A Light: My Tisha B'av Timeline

Photo taken and graphic made July 26, 2004.

Once upon a time, in 2004, I properly observed the no-food, no-drink fast of Tisha B'av that starts Monday night for the first time. The fast, in a nutshell, commemorates a variety of tragedies that have befallen the Jewish people, most notably the destruction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem in 70 C.E.

So what did I have to say on July 26, 2004?

Tonight begins Tisha B'av. If you don't know what that is, feel free to click here: Learn about Tisha B'av! It's a day of fasting, low-key activities, and reflecting on the destruction of the Second Temple. It's the first holy day of the yearlong cycle for me. I'm kind of excited to participate in my first fast of my path to Judaism. It sounds ridiculous, but I feel a part of something.

I'll admit that I did edit that a bit -- but only for the sake of capitalization and compound modifiers. Later, on July 27, 2004, around 6:30 p.m. I wrote this:

Ok, so fasting is hard. Especially when you promise to meet someone at THE COFFEE HOUSE and then remember you can't drink/eat in respect of the day. So I slept in as late as possible in order to not have to be awake and then went to the coffee house around 3 p.m. and there was Gregory. We sat for about 2-1/2 hours doing our respective tasks and talking in between about the holy grail, Christianity, Atlantis, people, Oasis, music, and everything else you can imagine. I absolutely love my time with Greg because he makes me laugh, a lot. Which I shouldn't have been doing on a day such as today, but I couldn't help but laugh. And now, now I'm here at the DN doing my normal thing. I'm starving though. For pancakes. Chicken tacos. Anything. Everything. Aghhh! Especially coffee. 

I found this quote from MARK TWAIN, which appeared in HARPER'S in SEPTEMBER 1899: "All things are mortal but the Jew; all other forces pass, but he remains." 

It made me brilliantly happy, it did. It makes sense, as well. It seems that although numbers of Jews have decreased, the continuity of the people is what stands and stands tall, might I add.

Ahh. I need to occupy myself for the next several hours. Agh. The sunset is scheduled for 8:47 p.m. folks. It will be a long two hours. Help? Maybe I'll go use my free ticket to see Cat Woman?

Did I go see Cat Woman? No way to tell. But I clearly wasn't doing anything remotely related to Tisha B'av other than fast. (Later that night, while watching the Democratic National Convention, I predicted that Barack Obama would someday be president -- albeit the prediction was for 2016.)

Tisha B'av in 2005 is a void -- I have no record, and I can't recall what I did or didn't do. Did I fast? Did I even get what fasting involved? I was in Denver, CO, interning at The Denver Post, so chances are I was busy sleeping and then working, and chances are I broke my fast by going to Subway for the Teriyaki Chicken sandwich. But that's just a prediction. Who knows what really happened. 

Then, in 2006, I wrote about my experience fasting on Tisha B'av and my frustration with one Jews approach to Tisha B'av for Secular Jews. I think I was the most reflective then. I was frustrated with the idea that Secular Jews don't need Tisha B'av because there's no need for a Temple, so why mourn something that was destroyed when it doesn't impact us today? Of course, at that time, I was a Reform Jew. And it still bothered me. Now, as an Orthodox Jew, it still bothers me. Back then, I wrote the following about the fast and day of observance:

It isn't just about religion, it's about the people and the history and the furthering of the existence of Jewishness.

I suggested that if everyone in the world spent a single day fasting and reflecting on destruction, drought, disease, war, famine, oppression, abuse, and inequality, perhaps we'd all be startled into action. But maybe it's a naive hope. After all, as I said then and I say now, What do I know? I'm just a Jew from Nebraska who grew up in the Ozarks.

In 2007 I wrote about my frustration with the sentiment that on this day we "mourn for a life we no longer want." I was wondering -- and still am -- whether if/when the Temple is rebuilt (G-d willing), will we still observe sacrifices in the same way? Or will the messiah come with some ethically evolved plan for sacrifice that is inline with how we observe things today. Finally, in 2008 (and last year) I wrote about how I felt distant from Tisha B'av, as if I were just going through the motions.

Will I sleep all day and wake up to check blog posts and see everyone else's meaningful and positive declarations of Tisha B'av observance on Tuesday? I don't know. What I do know is that I plan to read -- and read a lot -- on Sunday night and Monday in hopes of properly preparing myself for Tisha B'av. 

And, as the saddest day on the Jewish calendar, I think it's only proper to consider what it means to bring light into the world. To mourn a loss of light in our time, but to imagine a restored light. I suppose by emptying ourselves, literally, of food and drink, we have a chance to fill that place inside with light -- a light that can move outward through a fight for justice and peace. 

I hope that everyone who observes the fast to finds a unique meaning in it, and for those who don't observe the fast to still consider what it means to fill the darkness of the world with light. 

Mourning and Minhagim: How to Decide

Yes, I know what everyone is going to say: You should have figured this out before you got married! Come on!

But what do I know? As a convert married to (for all intents and purposes) a ba'al teshuva, I really didn't anticipate all of the issues with "do we do this? do we not do this?" that would come up in our marriage. Technically, before Tuvia and I got hitched, I could have adopted Sephardic customs (although, let's be honest, it would be hard to describe to anyone why I, a fair-skinned, dark-haired Jewess is eating rice on Passover). Likewise, because the customs that Tuvia inherited within his family are few and far between, with very few regarding kashrut or general family minhagim, he, too, could have chosen his path. In the end, we adopted a Yekki style of hand-washing before kiddush and motzi on Shabbos (what!? it streamlines the process!), but that's about it. (Yekki = Jew of German descent)

Right now, then, the question about customs to which I'm referring involve The Three Weeks -- those days weeks that started with the fast of the 17th of Tammuz (on Tuesday) and culminate with Tisha B'Av. There are a lot of customs, a lot of minhagim that many adhere to in public and private, others just in public, and some not at all.

For example, many will not shave, get a haircut, get married, or listen to music during The Three Weeks, and this is standard Ashkenazic custom. When the Nine Days arrive, leading up to Tisha B'Av, many Jews won't eat meat or do laundry, either.

Where does this come from? The first source for a special status of The Three Weeks as Bein ha'Metzarim is found in Eikhah Rabbati 1.29, which glosses Lamentations 1.3's "All Zion's pursuers overtook her between the straits" and understands "straits" as "days of distress." These days of distress are 17 Tammuz through 9 Av, as cited by Rabbi Isaac Tyrnau in his book Minhagim, a record of Austrian customs. His opinion was then cited as halacha by Moses Isserles in Rema on Shulchan Aruch.

And where does the seriously decreased happiness during The Nine Days come from? In Mishnah Ta'anit 4:6, "from the beginning of Av, happiness is decreased." Okay, that makes perfect sense. But what does that mean? I can decrease my happiness while still eating meat and listening to music, right? What if I only listen to Britney Spears, which makes me sad? And I overcook my steak? Well, many refrain from meat and wine, laundry, and warm baths. Sephardim tend to only observe these restrictions from the Sunday prior to 9 Av, and Yeminite Jews don't maintain any of these customs. (And don't we often cite the Yeminite community as being "the closest" thing to "authentic" old-school Judaism?)

Here's my take: Weeks of mourning tend to diminish the impact of an event itself. When something happens suddenly, your body, soul, and mind are assaulted by the event. I imagine that the Israelites of the First Century BCE didn't think it would really come down to the destruction of the Holy Temple, just as the Jews of Europe didn't think that Kristallnacht would lead to the destruction of 6 million Jews. The sudden impact of reality is what shatters the soul into complete mourning. 

Am I a tzaddik? Am I a rabbi? No. I suppose not. But for Tuvia and I to sit down and have a conversation about what we will and will not do during The Three Weeks and The Nine Days, well, I think that we have to be aware of community standards as well as our own expectations and understanding of the meaning of these times.

What do you observe? What don't you observe? Are there any special family minhagim for this period that you've adopted?

The Golden Age? Maybe Not.

I love it when book publishers and publicists send me books to review. Absolutely love it. Especially in the summer when I actually have time to sit down with a tome and give a little attention to a real-life, paper-style, bound book and not something on my iPad or Nook. I've revived the whole "going to the library" thing that I used and abused when I lived in Denver and Connecticut, because when I'm under the pressure of "return this in two weeks OR ELSE," I'm more likely to actually read the book.

But this is a book someone sent me, and because I do have the time to review books, I thought I should get to it. So, I sat down with The Golden Age of Jewish Achievement: The Compendium of a Culture, a People, and Their Stunning Performance:  by Steven Pease over Shabbat, excited to see exactly what this offer had to offer regarding the sometimes seemingly unbalanced representation of Jews in positions of achievement.

Unfortunately, I wasn't entirely jazzed with the book. The introduction made me wonder if at some point Pease said something and someone accused him of being an antiSemite so he felt like he needed to defend his position of his respect and admiration of Jews. He gives a laundry list of details about how he knows gobs of Jews, his favorite joke came from a Jewish friend, how he worked with Jews. You know, it's like that excuse, "Oh, I can tell this racist joke because my best friend is black."

Sigh.

In the wrong hands, this book could be seriously bad news. It offers a laundry list (hence "compendium" in the title) of Jews and their achievements, from champion chess players to Nobel prize winners and everything in between. The lists and details on athletics were particularly interesting, if only because Jews seem to be wired for owning teams rather than playing on them. (Insert stereotype here.)

Listen, I get what Pease was trying to do: List and explain why Jews are so darn great at just about everything -- really tipping the scales in inventions, Nobel prize-winning, Hollywood, and so on -- except for sports. But this isn't the kind of book you sit down and read. It's the kind of book you reference on occasion when someone says, "Oh come on, there's no way Jews are that good at chess!" But when I said that this could be bad news in the wrong hands, it's because I feel like this is the kind of list that an antiSemite is just looking for to prove the "Jews run the world" argument. After all, if we're so darn good at achieving in certain fields, clearly we're going at it in a sneaky, Jewish kind of way.

Should you go out and buy this book? Probably not. However, if you like stats and you like to know who the major players in various categories of Jewish public history, then this book definitely is for you. And it's only $14.95 on Amazon, so if you can get past the "oh I know lots of Jews, so it's all good" stuff, then perhaps you'll get your money's worth.

A Lesson in Anarcha-Feminism at Lush

Today, I said "yes" to three new gigs sort of kind of officially. One is with a Jewish school, one is with a Jewish author, and the other is with a really awesome Jewish project that I will blog more about later. In between all of that "yessing" I was running oodles of errands to fun places like Target and Whole Foods. I also happened to stop by Lush, one of my most favorite stores in the entire world. This isn't only because their products are amazing, but because to be honest, they have the best customer service and employees on the planet. Period. Moisturized hands down.

Oddly enough, while this trip to Lush -- where the amazing Sales Girl talked me into probably way more than I needed -- I had an educational experience. You see, I wear a lot of purple. It happened by chance that my MacBook cover is purple, my cellphone cover is purple, my favorite shoes and sandals are purple, and so on. In fact, I got rid of a purse that was purple because I felt like people thought I was nuts. But today I happened to be wearing a purple tichel from Israel, a shirt with black and purple headphones on it, and my purple sandals.

Oy.

Sales Girl: You like purple?
Me: Oh, geez ... yeah. I do. It's become my favorite color recently.
Sales Girl: It's my favorite color, too!
Me: Oh nice.
Sales Girl: Especially purple and black!
Me: I seem to wear a lot of that.
Sales Girl: You know those are the colors of Anarcha-Feminism, right?
Me: Oh, really.
Sales Girl: Do you know what that is?
Me: Um ... no.

The Sales Girl proceeded to explain the idea behind Anarcha-Feminism, which left me feeling a wee bit weird. Why? Well, the concept of Anarcha-Feminism basically marries anarchy and feminism (and that's sort of a pun, because A-Fs don't really believe in marriage). It differs (according to my Lush gal) in the fact that Feminism demands equality, and A-F calls for a reevaluation of the establishment of patriarchy. Here, how about this:

Anarcha-Feminism views patriarchy as a manifestation of involuntary hierarchy. Anarcha-feminists believe that the struggle against patriarchy is an essential part of class struggle, and the anarchist struggle against the state. In essence, the philosophy sees anarchist struggle as a necessary component of feminist struggle and vice-versa. 

Interesting. And there I was, in my head covering, married, being that stereotype of what A-Fs argue as the stifling of "individual growth." As I looked over the amazing Lush dry shampoos, I explained how covering my hair has affected my hair, and she responded with some ideas. But from the moment she was rubbing Dream Cream all over my hands and explaining Anarcha-Feminism to me, I felt, as I said, weird. I also started to wonder whether lots of people know about A-F and think my purple-black combo means something more than it actually does.

Oddly enough, A-F was really championed by Emma Goldman, an Orthodox-born Jew who helped establish the anarchist movement in North America. When she died in 1940, she was against the war with Hitler, which makes me wonder whether, with as politically active as she was, really knew what was happening. Anarchist or not, I think there comes a point when your values can be challenged by reality. [Read more about Goldman on JWA Online, too!]

Either way, weird or not, learning about Anarcha-Feminism was interesting, despite it being a philosophy I'd never personally consider or take on. 

Have you ever heard of A-F? Would you call yourself a Feminist? Is there a place for Feminism in Orthodox Judaism?

The Triangle Shirtwaist Fire: Our Jewish History

Friday marks the 100th anniversary of the worst industrial disaster in New York City history: The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire. The fire resulted in the fourth highest loss of life from an industrial accident in United States History.

Do you know about it? Did you know that most of the 146 victims were Jewish? Women? Did you know that the owners of the tenement factory also were Jewish? And that they got off scott free?

I'm guessing most of you said no. I'm writing about this because we spent an entire class period in one of my courses devoted to the fire and its role in Jewish education and whether it has a role in Jewish education.

I learned about the Triangle Fire way back when in history class during discussions on labor law and tenement factories and the immigrant experience, but it didn't have a Jewish angle (and it wouldn't have, me living in Nebraska at the time). But I'm surprised to meet so many Jews (my dear husband Tuvia included) who have never even heard of this horrible event in Jewish history.

A mockup image of where the fire started.

What happened? In a nutshell, young girls were the most common figures in shirtwaist factories in the early 1900s. Many of these young girls were Italian and Jewish immigrants who were the first and only members of their family to come state-side. These girls would work in sweat shops, 14 hours a day or more, in order to save and send money back to bring the rest of their families to the states. So many of these girls were Jewish, because many of these tenement factories were in Lower Manhattan, near the Lower East Side, which was a hub of Jewish life in the early 1900s. Most of these girls left shtetls and traditional Jewish lifestyles and were forced to work on Shabbos. It was the great compromise of many Jewish immigrants, and it changed forever the landscape of religious Jewish identity.

The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory was located on what is now the NYU Campus in New York City at 29 Washington Place. The building still stands and it is the Chemistry Building currently, and there are three plaques on the building memorializing the event -- have you seen them? On Shabbos, March 25, 1911, the sweatshop was full of workers, someone dropped a cigarette into a pile of cloth, and a fire blew up on the upper floors of the building. The doors were locked, the fire ladders only reached the eighth floor, and 40 people ended up leaping from the building to their death (and a comparison was drawn on 9/11 to this very event). The death toll was 146, and most of them were Jewish young women.

After the event, there was a huge outcry from the Jewish community, and the labor community was changed forever -- labor laws were enacted, and the fire went down in history as a turning point in U.S. Labor Law. And then? Poof. We forgot it happened. We forgot it was a Jewish disaster, and we forgot that Jews helped shape labor law in the U.S. through a horrible loss of life.

There were stories reported in the Yiddish newspaper after the event that an adjacent floor had negotiated with their floor boss to leave at noon before Shabbos each week, and so they were saved from the fire. There was another story about one of the worker girls who felt like she was betraying her family back in the Old Country, so she skipped work and watched the building burn from the street, in horror. Miracles? Coincidence?

Seeing the pictures is horrifying, because I walk on that street, where those bodies fell, at least four days a week.

Here's my point: This event was huge and so important in American Jewish history. I think, too, that it is possible that it impacted the worldwide Jewish community in an untold way. Just think: More than 100 young Jewish girls, working to send money to their families in the Old Country, die in a fire. The flow of money stops. This means the families of a 100 or more girls do not make it to the U.S. as soon as they would have -- or, possible, ever. I wonder how many families perished in the Holocaust who would have made it to the U.S. otherwise? This hasn't been studied, at all, and I wish someone would look into the impact this event had on the worldwide community.

The owners, both Jewish, were acquitted. No one ever truly paid for the murders.

Here's my question: Did you learn about this in your Jewish education? Whether at Sunday School or Yeshiva or day School? Do you think this is relevant to the Jewish educational experience? Should this even be taught through a specifically Jewish lens? And, most importantly, do you think this event can be categorized as a uniquely Jewish event?

Food for Thought: Someone mentioned to me that because the fire happened while Jewish women were working on Shabbos, Yeshivot might not be willing to teach the topic. However, wouldn't the fact that so many were saved by making the choice not to work be a boon to teaching in an Orthodox, Shomer Shabbos environment? 


Also: The previously unknown names of six of the victims have been released. Several of them were engaged to be married. One of them was a man. 

A Historical Minute

The hat tip on this goes to my Uncle David, who sent this to me via email today. It's an interesting look at some important historical moments in Jewish history. Enjoy!

American Minute with Bill Federer
Ferdinand and Isabella sent Columbus on his voyage in 1492 after they liberated Spain from occupying Muslim forces.

Spain's policies then forced Jews to flee, first to Portugal, then to Amsterdam, where some sailed with Dutch merchants to South America.

When Spain attacked there, they fled again and 23 refugees, on the French ship Sainte Catherine, became the first Jews to arrive in New Amsterdam in 1654.

Governor Stuyvesant tried to evict them, not letting them worship outside their homes.

In 1664, New Amsterdam became New York, where the first synagogue was built in 1730.

Jewish population in colonial America grew to 2,000 in 7 synagogues from New York to Savannah.

Beginning in 1830, Ellis Island had 250,000 Jews immigrate from persecution in Bavaria.

Starting in 1881, over 2 million Jews fled Russia's pogroms to America.

By 2006, Jews comprised 2 percent of U.S. population.

President Woodrow Wilson wrote:

"Whereas in countries engaged in war there are 9 million Jews, the majority of whom are destitute of food, shelter, and clothing; driven from their homes without warning ... causing starvation, disease and untold suffering. Whereas the people of the U.S. have learned with sorrow of this terrible plight, I proclaim JANUARY 27, 1916, a day to make contributions for the aid of the stricken Jewish people to the American Red Cross."