Sins as White as Snow
A.M. Yehuda2010[Fiction]
“My name is Baila Rothman, I’m from Ohio, I’m sixteen, I’m new here,” I said to each of my roommates when they wandered in to the dorm that night. Deborah Lee had the bed to my right. She was from Birmingham, England. Between her lisp and her accent I deciphered that her father was a reform Rabbi, that she wanted to be closer, much closer to God, like her Grandpoppa was and that I was not to touch anything in her cabinet and never ever lay a finger on her teddy bear. Melanie had the bed to my left. She didn’t tell me where she was from, just looked me up and down with one arched eyebrow and a hand on her narrow hip, before flipping her long sheet of hair over her shoulder and walking out of our bedroom.
Yom Kippur came five weeks after I moved out of my oldest sister Goldy’s apartment and into the dorms, eleven weeks after I stepped off that plane in Tel Aviv. The morning before the holiday, a warm Thursday in October, seminary was closed. I gathered the monthly allowance my mother had sent to me through Goldy and took the bus downtown. I walked passed the shops, eyeing the clothing and souvenirs in the windows. The strange sounds and sights of Jerusalem had become familiar to me in the weeks since I had first landed in this overheated, loud country that I had learned so much about as a child. I knew my way around the uneven streets and my Hebrew had improved enough for me to express what I needed to say.
I stopped in front of Zava, a store with big windows and black glossy walls. It looked like the stores from back home in Ohio. Not that I ever bought clothes at home—my five brothers and four sisters and I only wore hand-me-downs. But I had money in my pocket now. A bell tinkled on the door and the store embraced me in a rush of cold air.
I pushed through the racks of sweaters and dresses, fingering the soft materials with one hand, clutching my balled up cash with the other.
A single mannequin stood in middle of the store on a raised platform, encased in a dome of glass, like a dead bird stuffed up in a display. She wore a pair of black pants and a white sweater stretched over her hard plastic curves. A white butterfly the size of a kite perched on the curve of her wrist, its wings outstretched, a moment from flight.
“Can I help you?” a saleslady asked, peering at me over cat-eye glasses. Her black hair was pulled tightly off her brown face and secured to her scalp with gel, each frozen strand glistening in the store’s lights.
“That sweater,” I said in my broken Hebrew. I pointed to what the mannequin wore. “Can I try it on?”
“Of course, of course,” she said, “follow me.” She flicked through a rack at the back of the store, lifted up a sweater, the same as the mannequin’s and ushered me into the changing room.
Alone with myself and my reflection, behind the curtain, I pulled off my blouse. My body looked like a composite of two different people’s skin – my hands and face deeply browned by the sun, the rest of my body, always covered with modest clothes, a pale pink. My dark hair had grown long and fell to the middle of my back. Behind my dirty glasses my eyes looked changed. My face was leaking more emotion than I thought it did. I didn’t look like I was sixteen years old anymore.
I slipped the sweater off the hanger and put it on, the thin cotton soft on my skin. The cuffs ended in intricate lace patterns and the neck had a band of the same lace. The bright white shone against the tanned skin of my face and hands.
“How is it?” the saleswoman asked beyond the curtain. I stepped out.
“What do you think?” I asked, turning in a circle.
She took a step back and put a hand up to her mouth.
“It should be illegal!” she said, shaking her head at me.
“I’m sorry, what’s that?”
“You look so good, so sexy, it should be illegal.”
I grinned.
“If I pay for it now, do I have to take it off, change out of it?” I asked, catching my reflection in the mirror behind me, smiling at myself.
“No, no, no problem,” she said.
I scooped up my old blouse with its sweat-stained armpits and followed her to the counter, counting out all of the money I had, all the money that my parents had sent me to pay for my shampoo, and bus fare and meals on the weekends when the school kitchen was closed, for the rest of the month.
Theoretically, the sweater conformed to all the laws of modesty. The sleeves came down to my wrists, the neck covered my collarbone and my stomach didn’t show. But it hugged every curve of my hourglass figure.
I walked over to my sister Goldy’s apartment, rubbing the fine threads of the lace cuffs between my fingertips, feeling the hug of the cloth on my skin. The usual brash Israeli catcalls seemed louder. The sweater caught men’s eyes like a sticky flytrap.
When Goldy opened the door for me, I couldn’t tell if her face was red from the heat of the apartment, or anger at what I wore.
”D’you like my new sweater?”
“Where did you get it from?” she asked turning into her small kitchen, pushing up her housecoat’s sleeves on her swollen forearms.
“Downtown,” I said, dropping my voice, suddenly afraid. My nephew Hudi cooed at me from his highchair. I kissed his cheek. He shook his head and hands, laughing, raining applesauce onto the kitchen floor and all over his blonde curls. I jumped back to protect my sweater.
“What are you making? It smells good.”
Goldy tucked a stray hair under her turban, sliding it down on her slippery forehead. She swiped at Hudi’s sticky fists with a rag, looking at me out of the corner of her eyes. What she saw seemed to embolden her.
“ Why did Mamme and Tatte make you leave Burnen Valley?” she asked, her voice unnatural loud. “Why did they send you here, to stay with me this summer, and now, to go to seminary here for the rest of the year? It was about a boy, wasn’t it? Was he good looking?” She turned to me. “Did you– love him?”
I shrugged.
“Do you love him now, still?” She leaned in when she asked me, her eyes looking more girlish and eager than disapproving.
“I don’t want to talk about it, ok?”
“Fine,” she said. “Here, have some apple kugel. Eat up before the fast starts. Yom Kippur is in just a few hours.” She put a piece of kugel on a paper plate, a shadow of juice spreading out around the noodles. “I’ve heard about girls who kiss boys, how they touch them, do immodest things.” She rushed her words, as if she was afraid that her baby would understand what she was saying. “What do they do? They say they’re in love, but it’s only because they look nice. Real life isn’t like that. I even heard other things, other sins that girls do, with other girls. I don’t even understand that, what they do. Do you know about it? Those sins?”
The apple kugel was sweet, the soft noodles layered with cinnamon and crispy at the top.
“Can I have another piece?” I asked, ignoring her question, her judgment tempered by my pride that I knew something she didn’t, that I knew, at least vaguely and in some way, what boys and girls could feel about each other in their sins.
Prayer services that night were held in the school’s synagogue. The women’s section was crowded by the time I had brushed my hair, changed my skirt, put on my heels and made my way across campus. I picked up a leather-bound prayer book and found a place to stand at the back.
The air was thick with hushed conversations as the women waited for the cantor to begin beyond the wooden partition. Student’s faces ran shiny with sweat as they leaned into each other exchanging quick whispers.
“Shhhhh!” “Shhhhhh!” Air pushed out between tense teeth quieted the room, as the prayers began. I closed my eyes to block out everyone else, to be alone with Hashem, as the cantor, invisible to me from the women’s section, started the Kol Nidre prayer with a mournful sighing that raised goosebumps on my flesh.
“Ohy yoy yoy yoy, Ohyoy yoy yoy yoy.” His chanting, so soft, so heartfelt, brought tears to my eyes. I swayed my head from side to side and brought my prayer book up to cover my face.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, “I’m so sorry Hashem, I know I’m messing up, I know I have done so many wrong things. I’m so sorry.”
The next morning, I woke up with my sheets wet from sweat and my stomach scraping with hunger. I would have to wait for nightfall for food or drink. It was a hot day, humid, too.
I splashed cold water on my face and got dressed in my new sweater and a long skirt. The Sanctuary seemed even more packed that the night before, the heat intensified in the closed space. I pulled a prayer book off the shelf and moved forward to grab one of the last empty seats. As I put my hand on the seat back a big girl sank into the chair, her thighs falling over its plastic edges. I turned and found a spot on the wall in the back of the room.
My toes were pinched by my shoes and my sweater stuck to my back, sweat gathering in my underarms and dripping down my sides. I put my prayer book down and gathered my hair up in my hands, twisting it into a knot that fell down my back as soon as it was released. The cantor droned on and on. I looked around. The women at my sides had their eyes closed, tears slipping down their cheeks. They held their prayer books to their faces and hearts, shaking their heads softly.
A mosquito buzzed around my ear and I shook my head violently, my glasses sliding down my slippery nose and flying to the ground. I grabbed them and shoved them back on, and my prayer book slipped out of my hands and tumbled to the floor. I picked it up, kissed the cover, and put it on the shelf behind me and slipped out the doors, making my way back to the dorms, swatting at the mosquito still dancing at the side of my face.
It was a long day. I twisted and turned on my bed, my hair sticking to my neck and face from the heat, the hours gummy and long, sleep catching me for brief moments then pushing me back into the never ending day. When night finally fell, it brought a cooling wind. I went back out and leaned against the outside wall of the Sanctuary with my eyes closed. I could hear the cantor chanting the final words of the final prayers. I held my breath, salivating with anticipation of the food that I could soon eat.
The doors burst open and the women streamed out of the Sanctuary, boisterous and loud in a hundred joyous and relieved conversations. I followed behind the crowd as they entered the cafeteria, avoiding people’s eyes, sure they could tell that I had missed most of services, that I had not been part of their cleansing process of prayer and communion.
“Baila Rothman! Call from America!” the shout went out the next day. I ran for the payphone that stood at the bottom of the stairs. I grabbed up the receiver swinging on the cord.
“Baila,” my mother said, her voice hard and steely. I held myself tight, held my breath in. “Your behavior has become unacceptable. We give you chance after chance and you keep on messing up and hurting people. Disappointing people.”
“What? What did I do now?” I cried.
“Do you hear yourself?” she demanded. “Do you hear your chutzpah?”
I swallowed over a hard rock that formed in my throat.
“Well,” she said, ”This isn’t acceptable anymore. We are not going to send you money to spend on immodest clothing. We’re not going to send you any more money at all. Do you think you are on an all-expense paid vacation to wallow in your sins? No more allowance. You better straighten yourself out. You are on your own now.”
I lifted the phone away from my face so she wouldn’t hear me crying.
“You better snap out of this behavior,” she said.
“Ok,” I whispered. She hung up the phone.
I replaced the receiver and walked out the building into the dark night. I walked, walked and walked like a blind woman, until I arrived in the Old City. I stumbled down the steps towards the Kosel, tears pouring down my face, hoping someone would ask me what was wrong. Nobody stopped me.
I got to the Kosel and pushed forward to put my hands on the stones. I touched my forehead to the ancient wall and cried in a barely audible scream:
“Hashem, Hashem, Hashem. Listen to me, Hashem!”
Someone touched me on my shoulder. Hashem! I whirled around, but there was no one there, only a group of big-eyed American teenagers, baseball caps on their heads, fluorescent fannypacks around their waists, staring up at the wall.
I looked at my shoulder. A white splotch dripped down my sleeve. One of the many birds that nested in the grassy crevices of the wall had pooped on my shoulder.
44 Responses
Wonderful piece.
This isn’t a work of fiction, is it?
The adolescent within me can relate in so many ways.
An auspicious sign! When my daughter was going for her college interview, she was late becasue she had to clean her shoulder from what the bird had done. The interviewer laughed, things went well and she was admitted to and graduated from one of the best secular schools.
I would label this article ‘Hasidic White Collar Crime’
A.M. Yehuda,
Such telling details; the new arrival must “never ever lay a finger on her [Deborah Lee’s] teddy bear.” What a great sketch of character. “The sweater caught men’s eyes like a sticky flytrap.” Such a vivid image!
Then, the gist of it. You capture it well. Sixteen, the awakening of a force the adolescent herself doesn’t fully understand, the timid but steadfast hope one might look attractive to the opposite other sex—the hope demeaned, besmirched.
Reading your piece, I could feel the bewilderment of the sixteen-year-old, I could hear the glacial tone of the beloved parent.
In a world in which it is always the adolescent force for life that hurts and disappoints, the mother threatens: “You are on your own now.”
Yes, you capture it well: the threat to be abandoned, the threat that torments the inner life of ultra-orthodox children where a mother’s love, a father’s love must not be unconditional.
Thank you for a beautiful piece.
Hurting and disappointing people by buying a pretty sweater? A terrible slut because she knows that boys and girls can be attractive to each other while her married sister who presumably spends two weeks out of the month knocking boots can’t understand it?
Charedism doesn’t just want to be a lifestyle. It’s gunning for an entry in the DSM.
this is great. i love this piece. she is driven by tayvah, not saychel. Love it. she wants to look hot . So do we!!!! we know we are wrong but we just cant help ourselves.
even when the bird shits on us at the Kosel, we wont listen.
too much heat in the crotch to listen.
I am cool with being otd. just hate it when people pretend its for intellectual reasons. thats why Iove this piece. so real and true.
We just want to be hot, and free, even if we are wrong! it really is the koach of amalek. free, regardless of the consequences. free from truth and reality. free to have men look at my boobs through a jumper and finally feel good about myself. even if it mans i cant see my soul anymore.
ive talked for hundreds of hours with otders, from the dumb ones to the bright ones. everyone is just running and finding excuses. biblical criticism my ass. id love to see any of us last 2 hours with a serious rov. not a chance.
in fact, i wish someone would actually post a video of a real discussion between a qualified chuchem and an OTDer. i think it would be funny.
i guess im gonna get some shit thrown my way now!
Hey, you Mr. Spank – you might like this
לכבוד מיין חשובע שכנ’טע רעבעצען זארגער תליט”א מכתבך הגיענו, דיין בריוועל וואס די האסט געשיקט פאר מיין ווייב תחי’ איז אנגעקומען, און איך וואלט געוואלט צוריק שרייבן אפאר ווערטער, איך האף אז די וועסט פארשטיין אז איך שרייב נישט לקנתר חלילה (אזוי ווי איך פארשטיי אז די האסט אויך נישט געמיינט לקנתר, נאר די ביסט נעבעך אומוויסען’ט). די שרייבסט א גאנצען בריוו איבער מיין ווייב’ס צניעות, איר סקירט’ס זענען ליידער צו טייט, איר טאפ איז טייט און דורעך זיכטיג, איר טייטס און זאקען זענען צי דין וכו’ וכו’, דאס מאכט ליידער אז מענער זאלען קוקען אויף איר און נכשל ווערען בעוה”ר, און די ברענגסט א גאנצען לאנגען הסבר אויף אלע שטראפן וואס זי גייט באקומען, דאס איז און קורצען די תוכן הדברים. איי וועסטו פרעגן פון ווי איך ווייס אז די האסט עס געשיקט? די האסט דאך נישט אונטערגעשריבן, וועל איך דיר זאגען, איך געדענק נאך ווען מיין ווייב האט אויסגעטאן איר העט און אנגעטאן א בענד האסטו איר געגעבן א גאנצער מוסר דרשה, ס’פאסט נישט פאר דיר, די פארשעמסט דיין טאטען, די האלטסט אפ ביאת משיח וכו’, אזוי אויך האלטסטו און איין קריטיקירען מיין ווייב, דיין האלדז איז אפען, מען טאר נישט ארויס גיין מיט א לאנגען דאסטער וכו’, ממילא 1+1= די רעבעצען זארגער. יאפ, דיין בריוו און דיין כסדר’דיגע קריטיק טוט זייער שטארק וויי פאר מיין ווייב, קיינער האט נישט ליעב קיין קריטיק אפילו (בפרט) ווען מען טוט גארנישט שלעכט, אבער אויפטוהן טוט דיין קריטיק גארנישט אויף, זירא, זילטש, און איך פארשטיי אז די ווינדערסט דיך פארוואס, איז לאמיך דיר עפעס מסביר זיין וואס נישט אין סקול און נישט דיינע עלטערן האבען דיר מסביר געווען. מענער קוקען! דאס איז א פאקט, א מענטש איז נאר א מענטש, און מענער האבען ליעב שיינע ווייבער, ווען א מאן זעהט א שיינע פרוי וועט ער קוקען, איך פארשטיי, ס’באדערט דיך אז דיין מאן קוקט אויף מיין ווייב, אויף דעם איז דא צוויי עצות: איין עצה, טוען וואס די טוסט, טרייען מתקן זיין די גאנצע וועלט, משוגה מאכן אלע פרויען אז מזאל גיין אנגעטוהן אזוי ווי די טאליבאנער, אבער די עצה קען נישט מצליח זיין, גאנץ פשוט, לאמיר שוין זאגען אז אלע היימישע פרויען וועלען גיין אנגעטוהן מיט שפיצלעך דיקע שטרימפ, און א זאק פאר א קלייד, וואס וועט אבער זיין מיט אלע גויטעס? וועט נישט דיין מאן קוקען אויף זיי? די אנדערע עצה איז וואס מיין ווייב טוט, זי גייט קאמפאטישן מיט די אנדערע פרויען, יא, פראסט און פשוט, זי האלט זיך אין שעיפ, טוט זיך אן שיין, פירט זיך אויף ווי א אשת חיל, און מאכט זיכער אז איך בין סעטעספייד, דעטס איט, איטס סססססאאאאא איזי!טראכט אריין, ווען דיין מאן גייט ארויס פון שטוב און ער זעהט מיין ווייב ווייסט וואס ער טראכט? הלואי זעהט מיין ווייב אזוי אויס. ווען איך גיי ארויס פון שטוב און איך זעה דיך ווייסט וואס איך טראכט? ב”ה מיין ווייב זעהט נישט אויס ווי דיר. אודאי איז עס אזוי, מיין ווייב איז 125 פונט, אנגעטוען צוזאם גענומען און שמעקעדיג, זעהט אויס צוזאם צוקישען, די אבער ביסט בערך 200 פונט אנגעטוען ווי אן אראבער אן עקל צוקוקען, אודאי וועט ער זיכען צו קוקען אויף מיין ווייב אסאך מער ווי אויף דיר (אויב ער איז בכלל אינטרעסירט צו קוקען אויף דיר, איך בין נישט!), בפרט ווען ער זיצט א גאנצען טאג מיט גויטעס הערליך אנגעטוען און ער קומט אהיים צו א וויב וואס גייט מיט א טורבאן און א עקעלדיגע דאסטער, וואס ווילסטו פון אים??? ממילא אז די ווילסט סטאפן דיין מאן פון קוקען הער אויס אן עצה פון א קלוגען איד, פאל אפ אפאר פונט, קויף דיר אפאר שיינע קליידער, שמיר דיך אן א ביסעל פורפיום, ווארף אוועק “אלע” דיינע דאסטערס און קויף אפאר שיינע נייע (יא ס’מעג זיין אביסל טייט, בפרט אז ס’איז פאר דיין הויז) און מעגסט דיר אפילו קויפן א שיינע לאנגע שייטל אנצוטוען אונדערהיים (וואאאאאאאס? כפירה!) פיר דיך אויף צו דיין מאן מיט רעספעקט, מאך זיכער ער איז צופרידען מיט זיין סעקס לייף (יא, ס’איז וויכטוג פאר מענער! און יא, ווען די וועסט אביסעל וויסען וואס דאס מיינט וועסטו זעהן אז ס’איז אויך וויכטוג פאר פרויען אינקלאדינג דיר אלייינס) און מעגסט אום אפילו געבען א קיש סתם אזוי! פלעין! סתם ווייל די האסט אים ליעב (ליעב? וואס איז דאס? ווען די וועסט מיך פאלגען וועסטו אליין געוואר ווערען, נ”ב ס’איז א גוטע זאך), גיי ארויס מיט אים (חלילה, נישט אויף טרייפענע פלעצער, אבער א סאפער און א כשר’ע רעסטראנט מיט א גוטע השגחה קען מאכען ווינדער) די וועסט פלוצלינג זעהן אז דיין מאן איז מער אונדערהיים, ער האט מער געדולד דיך אויסצוהערן, ער וועט פלוצלינג קענען פלאנדזשען דיין טוילעט (א בענעפיט פאר מיר, וועסט מיך שוין נישט דארפען דערפאר) אמת, ער וועט בלייבן א מאן און ער וועט ווייטער קוקען, אבער “די” וועסט זיין זיין טאפ פראיארעטי, נישט מיין ווייב. איך וויס, די האסט יעצט געהערט זאכען וואס זענען כפירה ומינות, זאכען וואס קיינער האט דיר קיינמאל נישט געזאגט, און איך ווייס אז די פארשטייסט ניטאמאל וואס איך רעד, אבער קיין אנדערע ברירה האסטו נישט ווייל מיין ווייב האלט זיך נישט ביים טוישען, זי האט ליעב ווי אזוי זי זעהט אויס און ווי אזוי זי טוט זיך אן. אויף להבא, דיין בריווען און קריטיק טוען ממילא גארנישט אויף, סא, אויב די האסט עפעס צוזאגען אדער האלט עס ביי דיר (דארפסט עס ניטאמאל זאגען פאר די אנדערע שכנות, יא, איך ווייס אז די האלטסט און איין קאמפלענען צו זיי וועגען מיין וויב, ווי אזוי ווייס איך? איך בין נישט קיין נבאי, ס’איז פשוט, זיי דערציילען פאר מיין ווייב ווען די ביסט נישט דארט! איי וועסטו פרעגן די האסט דאך זיי אנגעזאגט נישט צו זאגען פאר מיין ווייב, זאלסטו וויסען אז זיי פייפן דיך אן, זיי דערציילען, אבער נאך ווי, זיי האלטען זיך אונטער אויף דיין חשבון, פארשטייט זיך, קיינער וועט דיר עס נישט זאגען און פנים אריין -קיינער וויל נישט זיין און דיין שלעכטע בוק- אבער אונטער דיין רוקען ביסטו די משוגענע פון שטאט) אדער קום גראד צו מיר, מיר קענסטו זאגען וואס די ווילסט, ס’וועט מיך ניטאמאל באדערען. הצלחה משפחת פייפערמאן נ”ב, מילך, צוקער, אייער, פאטעטאס אד”ג קאסטען געלט, סא ווען די בארגסט פליז ברענג צוריק. ננ”ב, קאר סיטס האבען נישט קיין פוס, זיי קומען נישט אליין צוריק, איך איך בין א גרויסער מתנגד פון דיך דארפען אויף זיכען ווען איך דארף צוריק מיין קאר סיט, געווענדליך יאג איך מיך דעמאלטס זייער שטארק און די ביסט נישט אונדערהיים, ממליא ביטע ברענג מיך נאך היינט אפ מיין קאר סיט וואס די האסט געבארגט פאריגע וואך.
Hey Spanking,
You are as OTD as I am a reincarnation of Mother Teresa
Nice try though
brand spanking:
1. uhm. actually, some of us ARE Rabbis, or children of them.
2. The ones who just want sex, stay in the community, stay married, and go out prowling in their peyess and bekeshes.
3. Saychel is a subjective thing. It usually means conforming to what everyone arounds you things is is seycheldig. That certainly seems the case with this author.
“Common sense: The accumulated prejudices of our first ?? years of life”
(-Einstein?)
He’s as OTD as my #2 case above, I think he’s the guy with the big beard who tried to hit on me last week.
cos you can only be otd if you have brilliant questions, right?
i have never met one otd person with questions that a good kiruv rabbi with 2 years experience cant deal with.
I am otd cos i didnt like my life. cos i didnt have the strength to change what i saw was bad in my community. cos NYC offered a soft option.
thats it.
attack me all you want, you bunch of hypocrites. you are just like a teacher in a school being rodef a girl for a short skirt.
hear me, hear my point, disagree if you must, but dont do the “she isnt one of us” bullshit. thats why we went off in the first place, no, cos of judgmental community, for fucks sake?
I agree to Spank here. One bad part I find by OTD people is the non welcoming new comers. It may as if they feel uncomfortable with that fact that another person had made the same choice as them. Well, if you believe its a right choice, why don’t you allow someone else to make it too? I wonder.sure Unpouis shouldn’t be the place where to ‘dislike’ the joiners…
thanks Bingo.
This is another reason that you can tell that most OTDers arent intellectuals (except for me).
they get so mad at anyone who disagrees with them. well, you can take the chossid out of judgmental, small minded williamsburg…….
SpankNS: I don’t often conversate or confront OTD people. I just hate to argue with them. Question is also who and when do you consider someone OTD. In any case, I think (if I’m right when assuming you come from the little NS Village) people from closed minded communities, who rebel or leave (however you feel more comfortable calling it) have a harder time getting them selves into another society. Certain ‘city’ rules, they just don’t know how to import. Well, I’m from there too, so I know exactly how the transaction may come through
thank you, you who have said kind things. Very much appreciated.
Hoezen T – no, this is not fiction.
HT,
You seem to understand what this brandspankinwhachamacallit’ is saying, can you translate for me? By the way, what language is it?
This is another reason that you can tell that most OTDers arent intellectuals (except for me).
You’re right. Leaving a community in order to be able to show off your boobs and have men look at them is a very intelligent reason to go OTD.
Kaf,
Its called verbal diarrhea
Spanking: The OTD community is fairly large with several overlapping circles of friends and acquaintances. I don’t think it’s fair to lump them all into one category.
As for questions and kiruv rabbis, etc. you seem intent on believeing what you do, so I wouldn’t attempt an argument. But for what it’s worth, I’ve been witness and been part of dozens and dozens of debates with kiruv rabbis. Accept it or not, but the kiruv rabbis don’t have the answers.
As for leaving because you just want to be free, I can’t say I completely relate to that, but I for one wouldn’t judge it either. Personally, I have no boobs to show off, so obviously that wasn’t my motivation…
Seriously though, I think your condemnation of all OTD’ers as being judgemental is hasty and certainly inaccurate. There are plenty that can relate to your feelings. Perhaps you just haven’t found them yet.
HT,
)
You never fail to make me laugh!
Spank, I am very much OTD. OCD too, but they have drugs for that now.
I can say with absolute confidence that it was for any reason a newly minted kiruv rabbi could have solved. If you know a good one in the Pacific Northwest, please give me his contact information. I’d be much obliged.
It had a lot more to do with my parents’ experience with Orthodox Jewish upbringings and reverence for the truth, even when it is unpleasant, over lies, even when they are comforting. Would I call myself an intellectual? Don’t know. What’s an intellectual? I’m well educated, inquisitive and read voraciously.
When you start stripping Orthodox Judaism to its foundations it looks just like Evangelical Christianity, normative Islam or any other revealed religion. It all comes down to “Comply or Die”. Believe what we tell you and do what we say or suffer at our hands in this life and the gods’ hands in the next. The “proofs” come down to sample bias, confirmation bias and forcibly shutting up anyone who can string two thoughts together and reaches an unacceptable conclusion.
Maya writes:
You’re right. Leaving a community in order to be able to show off your boobs and have men look at them is a very intelligent reason to go OTD.
Just to show off your boobs? That would be a bad reason. But it masks something very important. One of the criterion signs of a destructive cult is the degree of absolute control it exercises over the members’ sexuality.
Here Begins the Rant
If you’re On the Derech you sign up for a truly evil degree of sexual slavery. It’s not just a matter of with whom. Every act is highly prescribed. What isn’t compulsory is forbidden. When. Where. How. What positions. What variations. How you dress. What rituals you must engage in before and after.
You don’t even have the fundamental animal right of finding someone to whom you’re permitted to be attracted. The Community determines whom you may consider with dire penalties for you and your family if anyone within three degrees of consanguinity ever steps out of line in any matter.
A real courtship? Hardly. In the Charedist world it’s a high-stakes job interview. If two kids have more than seven or eight dates something’s wrong with them. If they show, let alone act on, any sort of physical attraction by hugging, holding hands, kissing or even being alone together for a moment a strict reading of the Law prescribes death. And at the end of it all you are forced to shell out hefty fees for the privilege of being denied the right to find someone to whom you are attracted as a spouse or lover.
And all of this is done at an age when the poor kids involved can’t support themselves, don’t know what they are or what they want to be. As soon as they’re bound together – and it’s damned near slavery for the woman because she has no right to leave no matter how miserable she might be – they are required to produce as many children as possible and to give up whatever period of mutual growth and bonding they might have experienced otherwise. Will-you, nil-you you will have as many children as The Community decides you should. If you want anything else you will have to get permission from a rabbi. You are never permitted to make an adult decision about the matter as an independent adult. It’s always as a supplicant and an incompetent child.
It goes even deeper. You don’t even have the comfort of your thoughts or the right to explore your desires in the privacy of your own soul. Sexual fantasies are assur. Everyone has to deny them in public. In private everyone has them. A normal human being with a functional set of gonads has them many times a day from puberty until advanced old age.
Masturbation, male and female, is so completely natural and normal that fetuses in the womb do it. But to the cultic mind it is worse than murder. Only clinically compulsive ritual incantations can “cleanse” you of being a biologically standard human being.
Let’s assume you jump through all the hoops and only have Tab A in Slot B missionary position coitus with the lights out, never experiencing the pleasure of looking at the glory of your Beloved’s naked body. Even then it’s not your choice. The Community’s authorities can force you to choose between physical love and ritual defilement by controlling access to purification. They can set up painful and humiliating rituals. “You haven’t scrubbed enough.” “I need to check inside your cooter to make sure it’s clean enough beforehand.” “Do not permit this woman to use the mikveh.” “Before you can even get purified you have to ram this cloth up inside yourself every day to make sure you aren’t Unclean.”
Is this too personal? Shall I back off for a moment?
Sexuality is one of the main tools a normal woman has to get her way in a world where men control most of the money and physical power. It doesn’t have to be overt or lewd. A smile, a gesture, what would be considered normal non-sexual touch in the real world, a tiny hint of affection or all of their opposites have been the prerogatives of every woman since before we even had fire and stone tools. A woman’s worth, even in the most “modest” societies is tied up with her fitness as breeding stock.
The frum world steals all of that from her. She is encased in clothes which are designed to take away all of that power. Anything which shows she is a woman and allows her to make some use of that power with which her Creator endowed her is forbidden. An Adornment for Life? Try the forcible extinguishing of life.
In just about every culture from ancient India to 20th century French villages forcibly cutting off a woman’s hair is considered a humiliating and deeply shaming, defeminizing act. What do the Chasidim recommend for a woman the moment she’s married and becomes a sexual being? Chop it off.
From time to time the Rabbis and “Great Old Ones”/gedolim modify these rules. But it’s never a matter of making life easier, freer or more pleasurable, especially for women. There are always more restrictions and harsher limits. Now in Israel the Black Hats beat, stone and throw acid on girls who have the temerity to even talk to boys.
That’s the sexual perversion which is Modern Neo-Cultic Torah Judaism.
It makes you see why the freedom to show off your tits, if you want to, to have a boyfriend or girlfriend, if you want to, to have an active fantasy life, if you want to, or to go a little wild and explore the limits of your own personal desire is worth abandoning the dead hand of the tyrannical past.
Here Endeth the Rant
And when I use the literal translation of Gedolim as Great Old Ones I mean it in the most respectfully Lovecraftian sense.
To Todd who wanted a Kiruv Rabbi in the Pacific Northwest here you are:
Rabbi Chanan Spivak
Director of Outreach
503-757-3567
rcs@portlandkollel.org
Thanks very much for the reference to the kiruv rabbi. It’s much appreciated. I really want to square Judaism with my fundamental ethical and moral beliefs. So far it’s been a bad fit.
Todd, I greatly enjoyed your “rant.” I love your take on “The Great Old Ones,” the Sages in Israel who took it upon themselves to rule their brethren and their brethren’s wives.
Spank, If you like to read and are not yet familiar with Bataille, Leiris, Gide, etc…, check them out. They wrote sublime, classical texts on transgression, excess, and freedom.
I happen to be a former kiruv activist myself. Kiruv people are actually among the LESS informed people about Judaism.
I do not reccommed you consult a Kiruv Rabbi if you are looking for accurate understanding of Judaism. Much of what they say, although somewhat more palatable, has very little basis in traditional sources.
Furthermore, a fair number of them rely on manipulative techniques and charisma rather than honest examination of sources. Some are aware of their deceitfulness and some are not.
I think the most informed people about Judaism are those who study it academically.
Some are frum, some are not. Your best bet is to talk to them.
BrandSpank… “i have never met one otd person with questions that a good kiruv rabbi with 2 years experience cant deal with…i didnt have the strength to change what i saw was bad in my community.”
First there’s a Talmudic rule of logic, “I’ve never met a ___” has no bearing as to whether there are___. If indeed you’ve never met… then I advise you to get around a bit more; seek and you’ll find. Also, pray tell, how did the great wise kiruv rabbis deal with what you “saw as bad in my community”?
Thank you A.M. for a beautiful and realistic story. Welcome to the real world! (cf. your two previous “fantastic” tales). Though the title of this story is from scripture, on a simple level a reference to the Day of Absolution, I take it as a critique of the sense of sin/virtue right n wrong common within fundamentalist communities. Hence, my minor question: Was your “splashing cold water on your face” on that hollowed morning a conscious disregard for Halacha, or, was it merely a literary embellishment?
Very thought provoking twas indeed, as it inspired some quite creative comments; Bingo, I love your heimesh Yiddish n very learned letter to your shoo’khentah yentah, thanks. Todd, please rant on, it would serve all involved much better than your wasted time with the “brightest” kiruv-pro.
BSnewsqueer, please brush up on your basic English skills. It seems like you may indeed have some interesting ideas, but, they’re utterly lost in translation.
Everyones experience is different, and the extent that they really tried to find truth is so subjective. As far as I know, the OTDers could be right,or the ones who stayed on could be right. Im not sure it really matters.
The bad in my community thang is pretty simple really. We chassidim, or used to be chassidim are educated in a community where minhugim become more important than ikkrim, and we, the dumb sheep that we are, believe that. So because we are sexually repressed by head shaving, lights off in the bedroom, chimrahkeit, we reject Judaism, which says nothing of the sort. Same goes for levush, schooling, shiduchim and all the stuff we did. None of it is the only way. the conclusion i reached about the bad in my community was, change it, or leave. But instead of leaving to a modern community and sticking with Judaism, I left to be frie.
The distinction between Judaism and being chassidisch is something i wish id known more about, before leaving altogether.
Im not sure it would have made any difference as I was pretty mad with everything Jewish at that time. Now, with a few years and some real experiences behind me, Im not sure how i would handle it if I had my time again.
I might have tried something more in the middle, like the MO world. they seem pretty normal and seem to have a relationship to God and Torah pretty much without hangups. At least what I can see.
nu nu.
You’re not dead yet. You still can. It just might be hard for you to find a chevre.
Viger – Thanks. And SpankingNS, can you explain yourself a bit better? You come in very wide, mixed attitude, and unsure stand on your ideas. And I wonder if this NS at the end of your Nick-Name indicates your Birth-town…
Lets be clear for everyone.
1. Generally Chassidim leave the fold for social, rather than intellectual reasons.
There is a negative reaction to experiences within the community.
This negative psychological backdrop opens the Chassid up to theological criticisms of Judaism and leaves him or her less able to sympathize with explanations and answers, if he/she ever tries to find any.
Todds rant is a great example of this. All good points. all fair points. all totally fuelled by cynicism that makes it hard for him to relate to the system positively.
2. Chassidim tend to reject Judaism entirely when reject chassidus. This again is a social reaction, not a philosophical one.
We could recognise that being chassidic is not the right way for us and that other paths within Judaism (modern, litvish, sefardic etc) would leave us socially and philosophically comfortable.
The leftover rejectionist hashkofah that we were raised in makes it hard for us to see Judaism as a bigger system that chassidus, so we throws the baby out with the bathwater.
In terms of my own experience, I think I made this last mistake.
hope this is clear.
And Mr Rebel, i think that your perspective, although much more eloquent than most, is totally about point one in my note. Your rejection of Judaism, as far as I have been able to tell from reading your stuff (which i love), is based in very outdated criticisms, DH etc. Im confidant that this is due to a bias towards rejection.
BSNS,
Can you elaborate on how the DH is outdated?
Simply put, it does not address any of the reasons that Yiddeshkeit sees itself as true. It states, “since the Torah is man made… who wrote it?”
the issue OTD people face is whether the Torah is from shomayim, not “once we know that it isnt, who wrote it.”
See, once again I can prove my point here –
I found that people OTD, are so stuck in their little life of so called research or intellectuality. They for days or months can be stuck over one topic, turning and spinning it to every way and direction. It so annoys me! Out of all the people who shouldn’t have a problem with god and the Torah we have, it’s the OTD people, and still, they’re sooo stuck and scrambled in it.
I always say to my friends who are in this stage – the difference between me and them, I enjoy politics, business, technology, international affairs and so – its fun, there is what to talk, and every day there is new excitement – above all, if someone doesn’t agree with you, rather than getting into an hateful argument (such as we too often see here…) it’s a cool and chilled out discussion.
Contrary to the OTD people, who when you disagree or try to bend their believe or ideology, go GaGa and mad over you.
One, why? And two, why do they even care? If God and religion doesn’t have a value to you, what do you care if to others it does have a value in some point? What if s/he won’t agree to you? Not the end of the world.
Just, they’re not sure themselves if they took the right step or approach, so they feel threatened by the disagree’r, that he may convince them otherwise, so they’ll have to fight and turn the other to their side. In the psychology world, there is a name to this, when someone is unsecured, he needs to be sure that people agree to him on that issue, otherwise he feels stupid and foolish
Sorry all out there, but this is how I feel. I’m still within the system, still VERY chassidish (?), join the club, but enjoy the life and writings here at the same time – point is, don’t get stuck…
Sorry, had to make my point
BSNS: Your initial comment seemed more like a rant than a thoughtful take on the issue, which is why a counter-argument seemed, well… not very worthwhile. In subsequent comments you show yourself to be more thoughtful, so I give you credit for that and will try a brief response.(Although obviously, you touch on very fundamental issues, and an in-depth discussion seems more appropriate. Not sure this particular thread is its rightful place. But alas, this is where we landed, so this is where we start riding.)
First, it is entirely incorrect that the DH is what fueled my rejection of Judaism. I don’t know where you got that from. I actually haven’t delved into my personal reasons for rejecting Judaism, either here or on my blog, for various reasons — but mostly because they often lead to fruitless arguments with believers, who operate from a different frame of reference (i.e. who has the burden of proof, etc.)
The DH holds a particular fascination for me as one of many fields of interest, with this one falling broadly into studies of the Ancient Near East. And it is as relevant as ever for those interested in analysis of ancient texts.
But you’re right that the DH presupposes human authorship, and as such, does not deliver a fatal blow to Judaism. I’ve actually said that quite clearly in the past. Nor do I think it’s entirely impossible to accept the DH while remaining a believer.
Also, I’d caution you to use such arguments as “outdated criticisms.” That tends to be the language of kiruv pros, with their tendencies to be merely dismissive without actually confronting the issue. (Only in response to Shtreimel’s inquiry did you elaborate on your point — and in the end, you said not a word on why it’s “outdated,” only about its relevance as a faith-shattering theory.) Like a kiruv rabbi once said to me, “It’s not a ‘chochma’ to doubt. It’s a ‘chochma’ to believe.” Brilliant. A statement in which nothing reasonable is said cannot be countered with a reasonable argument. So of course, the argument ends there. And he thinks that he won it. (!)
As for my own reasons for rejecting Judaism, if you really want to know, they have to do with the logic of accepting implausible and fanciful tales and the dogmatic embrace of cosmological and eschatological theories, which no thinking person should accept without serious challenge. And so far, I have seen no cogent arguments that make such notions plausible, let alone provide proof of their truth.
If there’s any psychological motivation in this entire discussion of belief vs. non-belief (which, I admit, there often is) it is more in the camp of the believer. It is the believer who sticks to the fantastic notion of a Great Being in Heaven who revealed Himself to mankind and told them what He desires of them. I maintain that the reason generally sane people buy into such insane notions is purely psychological — not sometimes, not occasionally, but always. Any intellectual discussion that attempts a logical basis for belief is always premised on the individual having something to gain out of that proof: either a fear of losing cherished and long-held values, the comforts provided by religion, and the like. Belief, by its very nature, does not start with intellect. If it did, it would be a scientific premise like any other.
Do some religious people leave the fold because of psychological reasons? Of course! But that is neither here nor there. Plenty of people don’t believe and still remain in the religious community, sometimes happily so. Are they too motivated by “social reasons” when their entire disbelief is often kept totally secret from even those closest to them? That would be a phenomenally unreasonable assertion.
Having said that, I don’t discount that a psychological backdrop might allow an opening for intellectual inquiry. In fact, I think that’s an astute observation. But it doesn’t make such intellectual inquiry less valid, or even less intellectual. A religious person has a lot to lose by discarding belief. He or she is therefore averse to even allow a shred of doubt to enter his or her mind, simply for fear that the entire house of cards will fall in on them and leave them buried. Sometimes one needs the psychological permission, so to speak, to even allow oneself to doubt. Negative experiences can provide such permission.
But to make such a sweeping generalization about the motivation for leaving is incorrect — not only because it is a result of faulty reasoning (which it is) but because I have personally met many for whom your assertions simply don’t hold true. Now, if you haven’t met such, I’ll take your word for it. But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.
As for your point that Chasidim don’t know the difference between an ‘ikkar’ and a ‘minhag’, that’s entirely false. It may be slightly more true for women than for men, but I don’t think there are too many who are so ignorant as to believe that wearing a shtreimel has the same importance as putting on tefilin. Your assertion is, to put it bluntly, absurd. And if you need a concrete example to prove it, here’s one: Chasidim, for all their fanaticism and adherence to a supremely restrictive lifestyle, wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to include an MO person in a minyan. Shabbos, kashrus, taharas hamishpacha, and the like, are seen as the basics. And in terms of dogma and doctrine, it’s the Rambam’s 13 principles that are generally the benchmark for a religious Jew (as historically unsound as they might be…) A Chasid who doesn’t know such things would be highly unusual.
Now, it does seem like you have personal issues with how far you’ve taken your rejection of Judaism. I think that speaks more to ‘your’ motivation for leaving than anything else’s. Since you left without a sufficient basis for rejecting it all, you now question whether you’ve gone too far. I can sympathize with such a notion, but your own “mistake” (as you called it), doesn’t make it a “mistake” for anyone else.
As for why we don’t see more Chasidim becoming MO, that, my dear friend, is for social reasons. The Chusid who does not reject the fundamentals of Judaism, even if he or she thinks the Chasidish lifestyle too restrictive, does not have sufficient reason to reject family, community, and social network if they are otherwise satisfying. But what you don’t realize is that plenty of Chasidim do become MO, they just don’t appear so. Does one have to throw away one’s shtremel and bekishe to watch movies, attend college, or allow women to drive? Certainly not in most cases. A chusid might be very happy with his $4000 shreimel, proud of it, feel comfortable with it, even while in principle not buying into the Chasidish restrictions. If he lives in W’burg he can move to BP, where his wife can drive and let her hair grow, while still maintaining ties to a community and culture in which he feels most at home. He can certainly still enjoy his daily hangout with friends in the mikva, the shul’s coffee room, or his local Thursday night cholent joint even if he doesn’t agree with a Chasidish lifestyle on a philosophical level. To give it all up would usually seem completely unnecessary. And the only reason to do so would be if his or her social network is unsatisfying in some way.
now is not the time, as you correctly put it, and im sorry for even having brought it up.
I think that you are right about me not knowing your reasons. I thought i had read about your journey off, and i just checked and it was someone else.
I thought about changing the word “outdated”, but didnt figure anyone would be that meduyak! i guess i forgot who i was writing too, huh
Im not going to comment on your points re how you rejected Yiddeshkeit. Its between you and Him, not you and me. Im sorry that I brought it up.
My rejection of Yiddeshkeit still hurts, and I do make the mistake of thinking everyone else is like me. Maybe its harder moving away when you are a women. It certainly as for me. I think we girls have a really strange journey off.
RE becoming modern, whereas I hear about BP, the movies and growing my hair and driving and i guess that is all within the range of the possible for me, I never figured out how to hang out with a bunch of men in a mikveh
take care
HR: How about you do detail out here the reason behind your move?
And to you BSNS: how about you do the same?
See, many of the audience here, are on the same path more-less. They’re not all on the same stage of the route, but all with the equal mindset of “something just doesn’t make sense there, and what they preached us” – See, reason behind this move isn’t always the questions. It’s more the landing which matters for now, and to many, this landing doesn’t happen, or happens very hard.
And again, I will elaborate – the notion of the OTD here arguing on their stands drives me nuts. Instead of using it as a panel of discussion and debate, its more as a hateful argument, where those who do not come in with the most educated and intellectual knowledge, get knocked off, many times for spelling or details something wrong.
I just don’t get it. for whom is this site, if not for people who grew up within the closed Chasidic community, who are now on the Fringe….
Vo’s Ken Mne shoin beaten fin zei?
Bingo, the reason non-believers get so riled up against semi-believers or believers, is because the latter usually come with outdated fanatic arguments with no basis of fact or any kernel of truth, as HR so eloquently pointed out. So yes, they get snide and acerbic, but you can’t blame educated people when “plotzing” when other people come with the same old exhausting shallow arguments.
Why do Chassids and Charedim reject Judaism entirely when they go OTD?
It’s very simple. Cultic Judaism is an all or nothing thing. If you don’t accept everything or immerse yourself completely in the lifestyle there is no place for you. If that is your view of Judaism there is no latitude.
I often have my doubts about things, but I thank G-d daily I wasn’t born a Chosid!