A Monumental Waste of Time

The bearded men do it all the same.

They shuffle in nervously, survey their audience, and take a deep breath before delivering their pitch. They speak of the closeness to the students, of the freedom their institution so graciously grants, of the array of opportunities afforded.

Some try to be more persuasive by acknowledging the routine nature of these visits. They think they're clever when they skip the logistics and get down to "what really makes their Yeshiva unique." I appear involved, but what they don't know is that I'm carefully observing, almost studying, the wall behind them. It's not that they're entirely uninteresting, although some of them are dreadfully boring, but it's that the very essence of their institutions reminds me of what I've been robbed of.

I've been told that, in order to develop a connection strong enough to keep me in Judaism, I must go to Yeshiva for a year. I've been told that, in order to have the skills for lifelong learning, I must go to Yeshiva for a year. I've been told that, in order to really delve into the deep philosophical questions that perplex each and every Jew, no matter how devout, I must go to Yeshiva for a year.

Well, what the hell have I been doing for the past four years? Wasting my time, evidently. How saddening. Infuriating, really. It would have been so nice had my institution done enough to ensure a lifelong passion for Judaism in, you know, the twelve years I've been here. But, it's become abundantly clear that high school is merely a launching pad for something more.

What the hell have I been doing for the past four years.

The Coveted Daughter

Her parents had dedicated their lives to ensuring that one day she would be, but their efforts seemed futile. They had been wanderers, struggling to keep their heads afloat, doing all that they could to not live, but to survive. They had been good people, people dedicated to humanity, people dedicated to the ideals of Democracy, people dedicated to birthing something that would continue their legacy. But, no matter the immensity of their dedication, they were continually opposed, oppressed, and subjugated.

But they did not relent when confronted with opposition, with oppression. Though it was widely considered impossible, they refused to relinquish hope, for they were sure that God was with them. They had always been Godly people, though, as is the same for all Godly people, there were times in their lives when they struggled, when they sinned. Some transgressions were worse than others, and therefore warranted a greater punishment, but they always found their way back to His hands.

And, though their faith was unwavering, it was equally perplexing. It was exceedingly evident that they had little reason to harbor such reverence for a God who time and again allowed the jeopardization of their existence. They prayed and hoped and wished and longed for, but their genuine pleas were ignored. They were successful people, but, for as long as they were being ignored, there was a void in their lives. They had nothing to call their own; nothing to eternalize their existence.

But, one day, she was born in the midst of tragedy, a byproduct of guilt, and a gift of sympathy.

It seemed as though the stars had aligned for her parents, that they could finally be satisfied, feel fulfilled. However, just as soon as she was given life, it was nearly stripped of her. But she persevered. The unwavering persistence of her parents had created an innate element of hope, of courage, within her. She refused to let her life slip away.

Throughout her life, she was oppressed just as her parents once were. At every turn a new enemy was waiting, yearning to extinguish her hope. But, with the spirit of her ancestors rooted within her, she found the strength to elevate to greatness. She became a beacon of hope for her people. She became something tangible that they could connect to. She became our heritage.

In 1948, she, Israel, was born in the midst of tragedy, a byproduct of guilt, and a gift of sympathy. And now, at 65, she has exceeded expectations and become something great, something worthy of pride, something we should never fail to appreciate.

She is our home. She is our connection. She is worthy of our defense, of our undying support, and our passionate love.

עם ישראל חי

A Response to J-Street

An Op-Ed regarding J-Street was passed along to me recently, and I found it quite disturbing. Here is the link to the Op-Ed: http://dailyprincetonian.com/opinion/2013/11/how-anti-semitism-made-me-care-about-israel/.

I urge you to read it before examining my response.

One of my many criticisms of the J-Street movement was alluded to several times throughout this Op-Ed by AJ Sibley, a Sophomore at Princeton University. Sibley is calling for others to join him, "to rise up for peace and pressure our public officials (American officials) to continue to push for a final resolution to this conflict: a two-state solution." Peace is the goal, but to neglect the desires of the Israeli people and attempt to forcefully reform Israeli policies in order to push one's personal agenda, an agenda that is not in line with the views of Israeli citizenry, and is rooted in exceedingly dovish ideology, is, to me, both morally and ethically wrong, and is characteristic of a biased, wavering support of the Jewish homeland. 

To place pressure on America, the country Israel so heavily leans on for economic and military support, in order to reform desired Israeli policies for the sake of actualizing one’s own ideal Israel not only opens up the possibility of implementing detrimental reforms, but it would quite possibly lead to an unprecedented contentious relationship between Israel and her strongest ally. The purpose of America’s allegiance with Israel is not to apply pressure on her government so to implement policies favorable in the eyes of American constituents; the purpose of America’s allegiance with Israel is to offer absolute support of the core policies of the Israeli government, especially those policies that keep the Israeli people safe. 

Though I understand the opposition to the “blindly supportive or bust” mentality of many extremist proponents of Israel, I find it disconcerting to push one's agenda on American officials by means of pressure, especially when one is pressuring for policies that are not in the best interest of the existence of the State of Israel. As advocates of Israel, we are not obligated to agree with all of her policies. In fact, there is benefit in being critical, for it leads to a deeper, more well-rounded understanding of the conflict. However, it is purely illogical to advocate for policy reforms that will jeopardize the existence of the Jewish state. Israel, entirely justified in its reluctance to wholeheartedly engage in negotiations with the Palestinians, has leaders who have the best interest of her people in mind. It is not the right of the American people to strong-arm the Israeli government through the generation of American political pressure. That type of approach fails to take into account the position of the majority of the Israeli population, and serves to solely push the leftist agenda on a government more concerned with protecting its people than creating foolishly dovish policies. 

The strongest proof to bring to this discussion is history. By examining various peace offers and rejections, you will find that negotiations with people who refuse to accept the very existence of the State of Israel is entirely futile. Perhaps my most significant criticism of J-Street is the fact that it inexplicably fails to acknowledge the fact that the Palestinian rejectionist attitude is at the core of failed peace negotiations.

Our reluctance and apprehension regarding negotiations is not baseless. In one of Israel's most recent attempts at negotiating peace, the 2000 Camp David Summit, she offered the Palestinian people all of the West Bank, 97% of Gaza, and 30 billion dollars to fund the housing and medical care of displaced Palestinian peoples. The Palestinians responded with the Second Intifada. Even more recently, after Israel’s unilateral withdrawal from Gaza, Israel was repaid with continuous rocket fire aimed at nearby Israeli settlements. Over the years, Israel has made many overtures, several that have risked the safety of her people, in order to attain peace. But those previous peace negotiations have not only failed, they have opened the door to further endangerment of the Israeli people. 

"Seeking a two-state solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is not idealistic —  it’s imperative." 

I couldn't agree more. The Israeli government couldn't agree more, though there is a debate regarding what the parameters of that solution should be. It is the right of Israel, and any sovereign nation, to devise a plan that satisfies widespread popular desire and protects its people. It is not, however, the right of the American people to interfere with that process because of a personal agenda.

Again, it is not only morally wrong to push one's agenda on Israel's biggest ally, an agenda that could eventually jeopardize the existence of the State of Israel, but it is foolish to so strongly pursue a two state solution that has proven itself impossible without the Palestinians doing something as simple as noting our right to exist as a sovereign nation. A two state solution is the goal, advocates from both J-Street and StandWithUs can agree on that, but there is an appropriate method of pursuing that peace, and a time to pursue it. Until we are dealing with a government that prioritizes independence and peace over violence and claims to the land, a resolution is merely a dream. 

Rooted beneath the misconception of being pro-Israel is an organization whose goal is to push its own liberal agenda on Israel and her people, despite the fact that Israel’s reluctant stance on negotiations is both justified and supported by its citizenry. This disagreement comes down to such a fundamental truth: We are Americans. It is our duty to defend the ideology of, and advocate for, the land of Israel. That being said, it is not our right to take advantage of Israel’s dependence on America by means of generating political pressure in order to push an undesired liberal agenda on the Israeli government. 

The Perfection of Being Imperfect

I am not perfect. I have wronged, I have lied, I have belittled, and I have cheated. I have done inexcusable things, committed unforgivable acts, and negatively affected a number of lives. You, believe it or not, are also not perfect. Odds are, you have lied, belittled, and cheated. We humans are inherently imperfect beings. Throughout the course of my life, I’ve developed an understanding of perfection as being unattainable. I’ve come to grips with the fact that imperfection is reality. That being said, I have come to believe that there is a certain sense of rightness that comes with being imperfect. That belief has given me the will to see good in life, has helped restore my faith in God, and has given me a reason to endlessly pursue self-actualization.

I’ve longed wondered why our God, a perfect God, would create a world riddled with crime, murder, and deceit. I’ve long wondered why our God would create a Jew whose nature prohibits him from living a perfect Torah life. I understand that we’ve been graced with free will, but that explanation doesn’t examine why God didn’t create the human race as being perfect beings in a world void of imperfection, thus giving us free will, but eliminating the possibility of making imperfect choices. Furthermore, Jews are taught that we have been created in the image of God, from which we can reasonably infer that being comparable to God is accompanied by God’s unequivocal perfection. But we know that is not the case.

I am no Torah scholar, of that I have no doubt. However, I am fortunate enough to be a member of a religion that allows one to explore, create, and favor various answers to complex questions such as this one. In my study of the works of Rabbi David Aaron, I have come to terms with being imperfect, and I have learned to see the value within being flawed.

To me, it is not at all heretical to question if God made a mistake during His creation of mankind. Not only would absolute perfection be easier for mortals, but it would make for an easier divine reign as well. This world, a world in which the good die young, the undeserving are unjustifiably punished, and awful things happen to righteous people, doesn’t appear to be a world created by the God that we all so revere. It’s difficult to concede that our God is perfect without examining why He created such an undeniably imperfect world.

In a perfect world, I would never have tried to lie my way out of an unfortunate situation in ninth grade. In a perfect world, my family would sit down together for dinner every night. In a perfect world, religion wouldn’t be so confusing and burdensome. There would be no war. There would be no sickness. There would be no bad. That may sound ideal, but without all of those imperfections, where is the opportunity to grow? Where is the opportunity to seek something greater than ourselves? Where is the opportunity to find meaning in this life?

The reason I view imperfection as being okay is because it gives me a reason to strive to better myself. I do lie, I have cheated, and I am oftentimes deceitful. And, as a way of trying to better myself, I’ve come to accept these negative traits, and subsequently vowed to correct them. Those flaws have given my life meaning. My imperfections have created goals, they’ve given me a reason to live.

I once struggled mightily with this question. At one point, it pushed me to the brink of giving up on God. But when I came to realize that imperfections are necessary to inspire meaning and goals, I saw the beauty within this chaotic world. Had I not lied in ninth grade, I would never have decided to transform myself as a student. If my family was perfect, I wouldn’t be close to the person I am today. If religion wasn’t so confusing, then how on earth could it be so exciting and thought provoking? Without imperfection, there would be no advancement. We would be a boring, stagnant people.

For those of you struggling with this very question, I am by no means suggesting that my answer is the correct one. There is no correct answer. But the beauty of Judaism is that you can find an answer that best suits you. This one best suits me.

I will continue to lead an imperfect life within this imperfect world that our perfect God has created. I will do so with a deeper appreciation for imperfections, for I now understand that God has given us the opportunity to find meaning in our lives. God has given us a reason to live. God has created imperfection so that those who genuinely desire a better world will emerge to change the course of history. So, if you’re not perfect, don’t fret. None of us are, and that’s perfectly okay.

We Shall Persevere

I have long held the belief that I am not ordinary. I see myself as a unique human being with unique passions, unique beliefs, and a unique story. However, Wednesday morning was the first time since I was a suffering child struggling to find my identity that I've felt entirely ordinary. The college application process has surfaced deep-rooted feelings of inadequacy that I was previously unaware of. The process has resiliently attempted to strip me of the distinctions that have long made me feel unique. But I shall persevere. I shall not let this viciously competitive process restrain me from feeling like the special person that I am.

Before this year, I had never doubted myself academically. I had never questioned my intelligence. But, considering I did not reach my goal of attaining a top tier ACT score, I've begun to question not only my standardized test taking ability, but my academic abilities as a whole. Though I know these doubts are merely the byproduct of a flawed system, I can't help but wonder if those standardized tests serve as legitimate evaluations of my intelligence. Before I get too consumed in the world of 1400's and 32's, I must stop to consider how capable I am in a traditional classroom setting. In terms of work ethic, reasoning ability, and quality of work, I consider myself to be college-ready. Despite that hard and cruel number that inevitably makes me doubt myself, I must look past it and recognize that I am more than capable in a traditional, year-long course. I will not let myself fail.

I consider myself to be someone who takes on an exceptional number of extra-curriculars. But, it seems, my accomplishments pale in comparison to those who are working as professor's assistants, interning for Supreme Court justices, doing groundbreaking cancer research, or writing books about the flaws of America's current educational system. Being reasonable, I know that the vast majority of Americans are not boasting accomplishments comparable to these, but this is a competitive process. Those interns could potentially eliminate me from consideration at a top tier college. That authorship could be the deciding factor between me and a young woman from Michigan. But, what I must keep in mind is that I am entirely unique, and bring a great deal to the table in those activities that I do participate in. I must not pursue extra curricular for the sake of bolstering my resume. I must pursue my passions and participate in those activities that I both enjoy and see the long-term value in. I must not reach a point where I am willing to relinquish my values and interests for the sake of making myself appear more impressive on a piece of paper.

One of the most difficult aspects of this process has been writing my college essay. To perfectly capture the unique person I am, the story I have, and the passions and values that I hold is a daunting task. I went through a number of prompts and drafts, falling in love with none of them. Though I've finally decided on one, I cannot be entirely satisfied with it because I see it as impossible to convey the person I am and the things that I am capable of in 650 words or less. Though the essay is both enjoyable and beneficial in that it gives admissions officers the chance to see the person you are, it is still immensely difficult to put that person on paper. But I must do my best. I must work to find a way to articulate the person I am and the things that I've been through. And, though it may be from the perspective of my red power ranger, I feel I have almost perfectly captured my story after many, many tries.

Every senior has been warned of the hardship and pressure that comes with applying to college. But you never truly understand the pressure until you're immersed in it. What I've gathered from this process is that you have to persevere, you have to remain true to yourself, and you have to find a way to maintain that sense of uniqueness. Nobody in the world is you. Nobody can bring the same things to the table. Nobody can pursue the exact same passions and bring the same change. I am - you are - we are all entirely unique people, and we must never relinquish that sense of independence and self-pride, even when battling a system that seems to stop at nothing to strip us of what makes us feel special.

We shall persevere.

The Revolution

As we neared the entrance of the Old City, I made sure to observe her reaction. I had experienced the Old City in all of its beauty before, but she hadn’t. I had experienced that moment when the undeniable presence of God hits you like a freight train, but she hadn’t. I understood the history, the importance, and the holiness of this magnificent city and the Western Wall it surrounded, but she didn’t. I had experienced Friday night prayers, but she hadn’t. I was Orthodox, but she was Reform. But none of that mattered.

We rushed in, tiptoeing around the thousands of others making their way to the Kotel for Friday night prayers. We passed the various shops, full of meaningless items meant to attract deep-pocketed tourists, but that didn’t excite her. We made our way through what seemed like the most complex of mazes, but that didn’t interest her. Finally, after minutes of following the crowd full of Chassidim, Orthodox, tourists, and non-observant Jews, we were released just in front of the stairs that led down to the Kotel. And there it was, the reaction I was waiting for. She gazed out at the thousands of people, some Reform, some Conservative, some Orthodox, some Chassidish, and some merely tourists, and was noticeably taken aback by the inexplicably powerful gathering of Jews. Once we passed security, we headed down to the Kotel for Mincha. We were alone, but that didn’t discount our excitement.

I found myself comfortable within a group of flamboyant Yeshiva students. There were several moments when I would break from the singing and dancing to stare at the large Israeli flag waving behind the partition, soaking in the beautiful unity and undeniable glory of Israel and its inhabitants. When it came time for the Amidah, I maneuvered my way to the Kotel, reaching out to touch it as I prepared to pour my heart out to God. I found it difficult to push through the full-body gowns and streimels, but I eventually arrived at a spot that sufficed. As I began the Amidah, I felt numerous people surrounding me. I looked about and noticed that I was being brushed by a Chassid on one side, an Orthodox child from behind, and a tourist on the other side. I looked further right and saw two soldiers praying with their guns around their waists. To my left I saw an older man in jeans and a t-shirt, no yarmulka, slamming his right arm against the Kotel, immersed in such powerful prayer that he paid no mind to the pain he was bringing himself. When I finished, I turned around and took it all in. I recognized the beauty of the Jewish people like I never had before. I marveled at the fact that there were so many different sects praying together within one relatively miniscule area. I felt so proud to be a Jew. I felt as though my vision of having a religion united by the simple distinction of being Jewish was truly actualized and on full display.

When I met back up with my friend, she told me that she had enjoyed a similar experience. Though she didn’t shed tears like me, she felt immensely connected to Judaism while immersed in that type of multi-sect setting. That night only reaffirmed my passion for building bridges between the Jewish youth in the Memphis Jewish community. Since I wrote my article about being open minded to inter-mingling with Jews of different sects, I’ve seen vast progress. I’ve introduced many of my Orthodox friends to my Reform and Conservative friends. I’ve supported and planned events that have allowed our community to get a glimpse into their community. And, most recently, I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying a wonderful Shabbat dinner with both my Orthodox and Reform and Conservative friends. I could bore you with the details about the dinner, but I’d rather focus in on the deeper meaning of this momentous event. Two years ago, I never would have imagined seeing my Orthodox peers sitting at a Shabbat table with members of BBYO. Though it may have been a vision, I never imagined it would actualize. But look at how far we’ve come. Look at how open minded we’ve become. Look at the misconceptions we’ve since resolved.

Reaching out to the other communities of Memphis is not only socially beneficial, but it’s religiously beneficial as well. By showing the Reform and Conservative Jews of Memphis how passionate we are about traditional Judaism, we may just influence them to pursue deeper knowledge of Orthodoxy. We are in a unique position to positively influence hundreds of teenagers that are more-or-less just like us. We can assist them in finding their connection to Judaism. This past weekend was about so much more than a simple dinner. It was a symbol of the current revolution the Jewish youth of Memphis are participating in. It was a symbol of Jewish unity.

Though the dining hall of Anshei is certainly not the Kotel, being there reminded me of that Friday night experience this summer. It reminded me of my time spent helping a Reform friend connect to Judaism in her own way. It reminded me of being surrounded by Jews of all different backgrounds and beliefs. It reminded me that, though there is still much tension and disagreement between the sects, there is hope for a brighter tomorrow. There is hope for a flag of unity blowing in the wind. There is reason to believe that we may one day be perfectly happy with being brushed by a Chassid, Conservative, Reform, tourist, or non-affiliated Jew. There is hope that one day we will unite as one nation - the chosen nation.

Find Your Voice

I keep telling myself I'll change. I keep examining what it is about me that makes me imperfect. I endlessly pursue a way to fill the voids within me. And the moment I stop doing these things is the moment I stop living.

This world has no room for perfection. With perfection comes normality, and with normality comes the end of uniqueness. The purpose of my being is to perpetually pursue a way to unmask the me I want to be. I will never attain self-actualization, but I refuse to stop trying.

Something that has helped me immensely in my process of introspection has been this blog. I've had the chance to have an outlet for my thoughts - thoughts I consider unique. When I first started writing, I expected a small number of people to take note. But when I publicized on social media, the reaction was overwhelming. So many people found my opinions to be so fascinating, and I couldn't quite understand why. After months of pondering this question, I think I've found my answer.

We all have a story. We all have opinions. We all have passions. But not all of us are open, or even able to express these things.

Since I wrote the piece about my best friend coming out of the closet, numerous people, many of whom are Orthodox homosexuals themselves, have reached out to me to compliment my courage.

What courage?

The courage to type a few words onto a computer screen? The courage to express opinions that I know will rile people up? The courage to share my thoughts?

My so-called courage pales in comparison to the courage of out homosexuals living in an often rejectionist Orthodox world. They've undergone introspection that I could never dream of. Their self-confidence is inexplicably superior to mine. They are the ones who deserve to be showered with praise, because they are the ones that motivate me to share these thoughts.

It's not only out homosexuals. It's all of those people who aren't fearful of expressing their beliefs. It's those people who have no shame in who they are and what ideals they stand by. We all have a story to tell, and maybe if each of us shared we'd appreciate what it means to be happy, to be fortunate, far more.

When we share, we have no idea how much of an impact it can have. We may be touching lives on the other side of the globe. By sharing our stories, we are not only letting others in, but we are taking significant strides toward picking apart what makes us, us.

I urge you all to find your voice. To express your opinions. To firmly defend your beliefs. To share your story. You don't know who it could touch. You don't know how many lives you could change.

Have I displayed a sense of courage? Relative to others, I suppose you could make that argument, although I'd likely disagree. But does my openness help me grow as a person? Absolutely.

I love sharing with you all. I love that you value my opinion, or at least care enough to see it. I love how much this blog has impacted some people. I can say without a shadow of a doubt that authoring this blog was one of the most beneficial things I've ever done - beneficial to me, and beneficial to those sufferers who found something they could relate to in my words.

The reason I write so strongly about expression now is because I am just on the heels of receiving my 10,000th view. I wouldn't write if I wasn't inspired to do so. I wouldn't share if I didn't believe in what I was preaching. And I wouldn't have an outlet had you all not given me a chance.

It's with immense excitement that I say thank you for making this endeavor a success. Thank you for hearing my voice, and please stop at nothing to find your own.