July 29, 2011

Another Bear Jew Read More »

Reblogged from Diverge: www.idiverge.wordpress.com

Two things to know about me: 1. My parents are divorced. 2. My mother and grandmother raised me. One thing you might not know: I didn’t think growing up in a house without men was weird, until people told me it was. My family just was what it was, and that was fine. Parents got divorced. Sometimes grandmothers moved in, and sometimes parents got remarried. People died. These were facts. Everybody had different ones.

Based on my facts, and how uncomfortable or confused they make other people, there’s an impulse to try to figure me out, especially when it comes to my politics. Two classics are: “The reason you don’t want to get married is because your parents’ marriage broke up,” and “You don’t want to have kids because your mother died and you’re afraid you’ll get sick and die too.”

Of course, the impulse to understand someone who’s not like you is natural-one could argue that as a fiction writer, I do it everyday. Part of me thinks these attempts to shrink me are hilarious, but most of me is outraged. Our experiences, the textures of our lives, contribute to making us who we are. I could have reacted differently to what’s happened in my life. Instead of opting out of marriage and children, I could be grasping for them-desperate to create the traditional structure that I didn’t have.

Here’s the thing about me, though-the way I’ve responded to my experiences is to be honest about what I want. The reason I want those things, or don’t want them, may in fact be influenced by my upbringing, but that’s why the phrase “the personal is political” is so important and relevant. Being a feminist, or radical character of any sort, means actively rejecting and/or analyzing what crosses my path everyday, things I’m expected to accept and conform to as a woman. Since I make different choices, since I challenge structures and threaten what people consider normal, this leaves me vulnerable for the attack, or the analysis of others.

The overarching theme in my decision-making is that I believe in being truthful with myself about what I think and feel will make the best life for me, where I can build a space in which I can access my potential to work for justice and create. As a person who benefits from white skinned, educated privilege, I can make these decisions in relative safety and security.

The bottom line is this: We pathologize people who make choices that place them outside of normative structures. We might believe our efforts are benign – after all, we’re just trying to understand each other. We read other’s experiences through our individual lenses, but then we use the most nefarious of systems-sexism, racism, heteronormativity, etc- to process them, because we’ve learned to associate normalcy with morality and truth. That’s the most insipid part of all of this-the fact that we really believe that we’re the safest when everyone else is just like us.

My daughter, Roxy and I boarded a plane to New York June 24th, returning to Los Angeles a little over a week ago …  and it’s nice to be back on blog.  This was our fifth, summer Daddy/Daughter Back East Excursion, visiting some favorite places in my hometown area of Phoenixville, Pa. and also the Mennonite country in and around Allentown, Pa. where we attended the Kutztown Folk Festival and splashed around at the famous Dorney Waterpark.  (I went to college at Franklin and Marshall, which is in Lancaster County, the heart of the Amish country.) Compared to the incredible handy men and women who bring their unique crafts to the Kutztown Folk Festival every year, I am but a mere amateur.  We met a couple of men who have been recycling large tin cans for over thirty years, shaping and cutting out areas of the tin using an acetylene torch and other very individualized tools; then coloring the metal with various shades of polyurethane. The lanterns, planters and other handsome items they create are remarkable. At another booth, we met a woman who has spent the better part of her life hand-building high quality dolls which are truly made in America and much superior to the more ubiquitous American girl dolls which, by the way are made in China. 

NEW YORK: The highlight of our journey was visiting the Eldridge Street Synagogue and Museum in what is now Chinatown, New York City.  Until tourists learn about the history of this “breathtaking, historic National Landmark, “ the big question is usually, “Why did they build such a beautiful synagogue in the middle of Chinatown?”  Of course, when the synagogue was built in 1887, there were few Chinese immigrants living in the area. You’ll read on the home page of the website:

The Eldridge Street Synagogue opened its doors at 12 Eldridge Street on September 4 1887, just in time for the Jewish High Holidays. Hundreds of newly arrived immigrants from Russia and Poland gathered here to pray, socialize and build a community. It was the first time in America the Jews of Eastern Europe had built a synagogue from the ground up.”  Copy and paste to learn all about the history of the synagogue and about the multi-million dollar restoration that began in 1983: http://www.eldridgestreet.org/

My own personal experience could not possibly be reflected in their website.  I was acutely aware of the craftsmanship that went into the original building.  The architecture is predominantly Moorish in style, complemented by Gothic and Romanesque elements especially on the exterior.  Inside, I noticed how bits of the old knob and tube electrical system still remained as part of the “museum.”  Our tour guide pointed out that the magnificent chandeliers in the sanctuary that originally contained countless individual oil lamps were now turned upside down to house chandelier bulbs.  The floors in the main sanctuary are original.  What were those deep, convex bevels in areas behind the pews?  Turns out, it was from decades of shuckling as the men davened three times a day, Shabbat and Yom Tov.
How I wanted to sing in this sanctuary.  The hazzan’s amud is right in front of and facing the Aron Kodesh.  This from elsewhere on the website: “In the late 19th century, a Cantor Craze spread like wildfire through the tenements of the Lower East Side. In an effort to pack the house, the congregation hired Cantor Pinhas Minkowsky, the “Sweet Singer of Israel,” stealing him away from his perch in Odessa, Ukraine.”  I stood where the great Minkowsky must have stood, and slowly began Zilbert’s Birkat Hachodesh.  The acoustics were amazing.  I then sang the Shema.  It was enough.  It made my day… my week!  A small Orthodox congregation, descended from the original kahal, still davens at the Eldridge Synagogue, downstairs in what was originally the Beit Midrash..

I loved this synagogue so much, I inquired if they had interest in hiring a hazzan (me) for the High Holy Days.  I left a message for someone who never returned my call.  It’s not my fault my last name isn’t Minkowsky!  Shortly after Roxy and I returned from our trip, I received the good news that I will be the Hazzan for the High Holy Days at The New Shul for the Conejo in Agoura Hills.  Here’s a link to their High Holy Days information: http://www.tnsconejo.org/content/tns-high-holiday-schedule.  We’ll be adding some Handy Hazzan vocal clips.  Give a listen early August and come join us at The New Shul!  I’ll be sharing the bimah with Rabbi Gershon Weissman, as well as my friend and colleague, Rabbi Michael Barclay.  The evening of August 19th I’ll be guest hazzan for Shabbat services.  Check the website for details!

AND NOW FOR OUR DO-IT-YOURSELF LESSON…
There’s one tool that hasn’t changed much since the creation of the Eldridge Street Synagogue … the block plane.  This is a very handy tool that can connect a person to the art of woodworking in a way that no power tool can.  Even if you’re not a custom “woodworker,” you may find situations around the house where a plane can be quite useful in performing simple repairs yourself.  A couple of years ago, a custom carpenter and friend named Augusto put together a large cabinet for the back wall of our carport.  I wanted something rustic to reflect the Craftsman period, and decided to use reclaimed (salvaged) wood.  I found some old boards from a 1906 late, Victorian house that had (unfortunately) been demolished.  It felt good to reclaim the wood, and it felt perfect for our needs.  Augusto created three individual cabinets, using dovetail joinery and gluing the boards together wherever necessary.  I found some suitable black, country hinges and matching handles, which I installed.  To bolt the doors to the boxes on the inside, I installed some old slide bolts I found in a salvation …oops … I mean salvage yard.  Finally, wherever there were holes or imperfections in the wood, I plugged them with wood filler.