I’m an out-of-the-box Jew.
While I call myself Orthodox, I don’t fit into any one type of Orthodox subset. I’m Modern Orthodox in practice, but Haredi in my head. Chabad is what inspired me to become religious, but I don’t think I could ever give up my kosher dairy, non-chalav yisrael treats. Carlebach services are uplifting and young professional minyans can be fun, but I also enjoy davening in quiet shuls and typically get along better with people twice my age.
I converted through an Orthodox beit din, but technically am 0.6% Ashkenazi, according to 23andMe. I enjoy Ashkenazi shuls because they are more accessible if you don’t read or speak Hebrew, but I prefer Sephardic tunes. I feel most alive in Israel and Morocco and know I must have lived in the Middle East in my past life.
Being an out-of-the-box Jew comes naturally to me because I’ve never fit into any groups throughout my entire life. In middle school, the popular girls made fun of me because I wasn’t cool, and I wasn’t nerdy enough to hang out with the geeks. I went through my rebellious teenage phase but still was a shy kid who loved to write in her online diary. When I was in college, most people around me spent their time partying; I stayed in my room, ate pizza and read The Onion.
As an out-of-the-box Jew who came from a completely secular background, I’m now able to interact with many different types of people. I can chat with an Orthodox rabbi from Lakewood about the joys of Shabbat one minute and catch up with a friend about what movies I recently watched the next.
The beauty of this is that I’ve made friends from all different parts of the Jewish community. On Sukkot, we sit in the beautiful sukkah my husband and I build and enjoy a nice holiday meal. For some people there, eating in our sukkah is the only Jewish thing they’ll do all year. Others are Orthodox like us, and for them, this is one of many Sukkots they’ve celebrated over the years.
While there are many wonderful Jewish communities around the world, I believe that Los Angeles has one of the best. LA is an out-of-the-box place. It’s a town where people come to follow their dreams. Most people I know are not from here – they are outsiders, just like me.
Every time my husband Daniel and I have parties, our friend, an Orthodox rabbi, remarks how we always have a great mix of people there. I take pride in the fact that we could walk into any synagogue in Pico-Robertson on a Shabbat and know at least one person there, since we’ve gone to all of them at this point.
Sometimes, I admit, I feel like I’m out of my comfort zone, though. If I’m at someone’s house and they don’t have a bencher with English translation, I feel embarrassed that I can’t say the entire grace after meals in Hebrew. Or, if I walk into a synagogue and I’m the only person wearing brightly colored clothing and kitschy earrings, I feel like I stand out. Usually, I’m the only blonde-haired, blue-eyed person in the room.
But then I think about how I felt when I celebrated my first Shabbat ever, back in 2010, when my husband took me to a Chabad for Friday night dinner. There were little kids, hipsters with torn jeans, a man wearing orange-rimmed glasses and two Hasidim in furry, round black hats. We all came together and had lovely conversations and an enjoyable meal. When I witnessed the love everyone had for each other, despite their differences, I was inspired to start my conversion process.
By calling on us to have our holiday meals inside these odd-looking frail huts, Sukkot is truly an out-of-the-box holiday. So, as I’m sitting in our sukkah this year celebrating with friends, I guess I’ll feel right at home.
By calling on us to have our holiday meals inside these odd-looking frail huts, Sukkot is truly an out-of-the-box holiday. So, as I’m sitting in our sukkah this year celebrating with friends, I guess I’ll feel right at home.
I would love to hear from you! Drop me a line at Kylieol@JewishJournal.com.
Kylie Ora Lobell is the Community Editor at the Jewish Journal.
