I wish I could tell the story of someone who struggled to find their footing in the Jewish community. Of someone who was stuck to fight a battle between religion and popular belief; forced towards a subject they simply were not passionate about. But that, while it may seem a more dramatic plot— isn’t my story.
Growing up in a Jewish day school through sixth grade, my development as a child was fostered through a religious lens. While most children were fighting their parents in a bargain to avoid sunday school, I was begging mine to allow me to spend another day of my week at the home some called temple—and that was as a first grader. For as far back as my memory brings me, most of my advisors joked that I was a “90 year old Jewish woman stuck in the confines of a child’s body,” and not once did I ever dispute it. Somehow I felt different than my community of adolescents who were trying to rebel against everything that constituted religion—because instead of fighting it, I accepted it in a warm embrace of curiosity and fascination.
As a one-day-old infant, my parents remind me of a story of coming home from the hospital and stopping at Wilshire Boulevard Temple to pick up my sister from nursery school. As that “90 year old Jewish woman stuck in the confines of a child’s body,” my crying fits began as I exited the womb and have yet to stop. However, as my personal history books tell it, I pulled in through the gates of the temple and a strange calm passed over me: I knew I was safe, and I knew I was home.
To put it lightly, Judaism has played an integral role in the period of my 16 years of existence. I have studied diligently, listened intently, questioned thoughtfully and all the while have fostered a Jewish identity I am proud to call my own. It is a small area of a larger, more complicated life, where I can always return and seek refuge in knowing my opinion and differentiated perspective is valued and encouraged.
Through my time advancing and creeping into crevices that help mold my ever-evolving Jewish character, I have never been doubted or steered away from challenging questions..I have been taught that there is never an inappropriate time to fight for your beliefs, because that passion is what has carried forwards generations of people. I am fortunate enough to have been raised in a community that has never viewed me as an outcast for identifying with a strong spiritual presence, and as a Jew living in the 21st century I see it as my responsibility to never judge others based on our dissimilar views.
Existing during this modern age, wandering through the desert of Los Angeles, it is a privilege we are afforded to freely practice the religion of our choosing—and I have made the conscious effort to take advantage of that opportunity. It isn’t a right to call yourself Jewish—and still is certainly not a universal entitlement all are fortunate enough to observe. Hearing of women being killed, foreigners being captured and genocide occurring all around me, is a constant testament of my good fortune.
Being Jewish has offered me food, a community, a home, a family, food, hope, beliefs, morals, direction, food, passion, and tradition. Being Jewish, even though it seems an unpopular word in the teenage dictionary, is an important part of who I am and where I stand.
So many people have looked to my parents to ask how they did it? How they raised a child with that strong religious backbone so many hope to instill in their children. My answer to that question is simple. I found it myself. No parent, no teacher, no Rabbi, no course ever forced my beliefs on me. I willed it in myself to go out and seek the answers to the boundless questions I held—its been taught to me, that as a Jew, questioning flows through my blood, its an aspect of life I am supposed to practice.
It is all the moments added together that have slowly contributed to the respect I hold for my fellow Jews. On a temple organized trip to New Orleans during February of 2013, I found myself sitting in the oldest reform synagogue in America: Touro Synagogue. With Rabbi Alexis Berk standing at the pulpit during this Shabbat service, the intangible connection which attaches one Jew to another quickly became completely visible to me. Sitting in middle America alongside fellow temple members—I realized there truly is something visceral that ties me to Jews everywhere. It is a connection which must be honored and respected to exist, but it’s strong and well established.
In a similar moment of clarity which took place a couple miles east at the Western Wall on Brawerman Elementary School’s sixth grade twinning program, I placed my hands on a wall I had learned about for what seemed like forever. It all reached a point of intersection. So much of being Jewish takes place in thought, takes place in belief, takes place through intangible compositions of our religion. However, if you dig deep enough what you’ll find is incredibly isolated moments of momentary visibility. They occur in a flash, and don’t last too long—if they did, this whole Jewish thing would be all too easy. You have to squint really hard, and believe in it harder..but moments where it all comes together do exist.
Through this platform I hope to bring recognition to the fact that spiritual and devoted teenagers do exist. That, it’s okay to embrace your Jewish religion..It is important to ask the hard questions that may not have answers.. and that in fact, being Jewish is pretty cool.
