Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Jews with Disabilities

I would like to take a look into something that we did not cover in this course, yet I feel is very important to Judaism. In this blog I would like to throw around some of my thoughts on Jews with disabilities. Leviticus 21:17 states, “No man of your offspring throughout the ages who has a defect shall be qualified to offer the food of his God,” and the chapter continues to follow along the same ideology. With that said, we have seen how the three primary movements within Judaism have taken an active role in including Jews (and non-Jews) with disabilities into their lives. Although this verse sends the message that individuals with disabilities are not fully accepted into the Jewish community, modern American Jewish communities are not practicing their religion in accordance with this statement. Today it is evident that American Jewish communities have gone to great lengths to no longer ostracize children and parents of children with disabilities. An example to show how much times have changed in recent years is in a story that a friend of mine told me a couple months back. My friend’s mother discovered in 2000 that she had a 30-year-old brother with down syndrome. Her parents gave their son with this specific disability to another family who continue to raise him in their home. I believe that in accordance with today’s standards (in both a Jewish and secular sense) this would not happen.

I had personal experience last summer when I worked at a camp for Jewish families with children with autism. It’s very interesting to see how Jews with Autism Spectrum Disorder are viewed and accepted within Jewish communities. I googled Jews and Autism and discovered a school called Shema Kolainu – Hear Our Voices, the first Jewish (orthodox) school for children with autism in America. This year it is reaching its 10-year-anniversary and as we see the implementation of several inclusive religious school programs, summer camps, youth programs and life-skills programs, I think it’s outstanding that the American Jewish community is incorporating these children (and their families) into our daily lives.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Passover Woes

Tonight marks the second day of Passover and I can't help but make a distinct observation about the way I am watching other Jews observe the holiday this year. They way I see it, Passover is another way of "setting ourselves apart" from other religions and cultures. Even though the majority of American Jews who do not hold themselves to the strict Rabbinic laws of kashrut every day of the year, I am watching while several take on keeping kosher for Passover this week as a challenge to themselves. Abstaining from bread (among several other foods) this week makes people look at us differently, which in turn challenges us (the Jews) to look at ourselves in a different way. At this point in our lives, I am watching while many of my friends (and I) stop accept traditional practices as the "truth" and begin questioning them. At the seder I went to this evening, a few girls I was sitting by grew a bit pertrrbed when a ketchup was served to them without a passover hecture. On a whim I asked if anyone knew the reason behind why we were forbidden from eating corn syrup products. I received a ton of strange looks. Nobody knew! After we leave our parents homes, we are given the opportunity to take beliefs and practices we have engaged in throughout our lives and ask the big question - WHY. We are granted this liberty by the nature of the society we live in and this is unique to communities like that of Jewish America. Why then are so few numbers asking the question? Is it out of pure laziness or acceptance? No matter what the reason, this can lead to frightening results. If we accept everything we are told and don't challenge even the little things like the "corn syrup mandate," so that we can obtain a better and more nuanced understanding for ourselves, are we really learning anything?

With that said, I have decided to take on this challenge for myself this year and watch the ways in which my other Jewish friends who have not decided to "keep Passover" respond to my decision. I just find it interesting that as I get older, more and more of my friends lose their ties to Judaism. Last year they felt no need to fast on Yom Kippur, this year, they visited a friend out of town instead of going to seder. What will it be next year?

A public Hebrew day school?


This weekend I was researching public-charter schools for another class I am in and came across a very interesting few articles on the Ben Gamla Charter School in Hollywood, Florida. Before I begin to look deeper into this particular school, I will copy and paste Merrian Webster's definition of a charter school: "a tax-supported school established by a charter between a granting body (as a school board) and an outside group (as of teachers and parents) which operates the school without most local and state educational regulations so as to achieve set goals." All in all, these are public schools, meaning any American student attend.
What makes Ben Gamla extremely interesting is that it is the first bi-lingual, Hebrew-English, charter school in the country. Interesting concept, isn't it? As stated in the NYT article, Ben Gamla "is run by an Orthodox rabbi, serves kosher lunches and concentrates on teaching Hebrew." This school opened its doors (amidst great debate) last August and while it drew 80% of its students from other Miami-Dade public schools, the remaining 20% came from Jewish day schools. The stats get more interesting from here. Because the school is public, and must maintain a strict distinction between CHURCH and STATE, the school cannot report on how many of its students are Jewish. However, 37% of parents said Hebrew was their first language, 17% Spanish, 5% Russian and 5% Russian.
So many questions arise from this institution but I will begin with wondering, what implications will this have on Jewish education. For those parents who pulled their children out of Jewish day school, where they were learning about Judaism for half of their school day and spending the other half studying secular studies, was Hebrew the only reason they felt a day-school education was important? What a statement.
I should also mention that this bi-lingual charter school model is not new to the Miami area, or to American public schools at all for that matter. Newspapers closely following the installation of this institution are also paying fairly close attention to Khalil Gibran International Academy, another charter school with a focus on Arabic language and culture. Several problems arise our government takes a laissez faire approach to governing our nation's schools, for example the blurring of lines between Church and State. (And this is something we Americans take great pride in.) At the same time, Ben Gamla is allowing Jewish AND non-Jewish students the opportunity to learn Hebrew for two hours a day, and this is costing parents nothing more than the check they write out each year around April 15.
I can't help but ask, what does this mean for Miami Jews? Before opening its doors, the principal decided that after dealing with the Church and State debate, not to write the Hebrew term for "Welcome" in the entrance hall because "Bruchim Ha'ba'im" has a literal translation that roots itself in a religious context. For these Jewish students attending Ben Gamla - will they grow up making a major distinction between the Hebrew language and Judaism? With the rising costs of Jewish Day Schools, could this become the new alternative form of "Jewish" education. I also cannot refrain from thinking about the larger implications this will have on public schools in general. First off, to what degree can a public institution honestly separate Hebrew, the language of the Jewish people, from Judaism? Sure you can teach a lesson in math using Hebrew words, but there's a deeper meaning when Hebrew is used as a common tongue and I would be shocked to find someone argue otherwise. The revival of the Hebrew langauge by men like Ben Yehuda is a recent game. Before a nation declared Hebrew their language sixty years ago, it was about as practical as Latin.
This institution has spurred great debate online and I have included a few interesting links to articles and blogs where people have commented on Ben Gamla. At the end of the day, if I was raising a family in Miami, I would choose to send them to this very school, even if I had all the money in the world to afford the "best" Jewish Day school. Public school is something we Americans should take a great deal of pride in, and this statement is coming from a mut (as half of my k-12 education was spent in day school and the other half in public). There's a lot more to say here, but I certainly plan on following the progression of the Ben Gamla and the other Hebrew-English charter schools who I believe will soon follow suit.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Darfur and the IU-Foundation...make them STOP... (please) ...




Ever since the IDS began printing the series of articles exposing the morally inept ways in which the IU Foundation allocates it's money, this sense of anger has been growing inside of me. Now I've known that the IUF has been investing $6 million in government-black-listed companies like Fidelity and PetroChina since the beginning of the school year. There was just something about reading the tainted words of the representatives of our public university (ie. President McRobbie) and listen to them in a weak attempt to justify their refusal to divest from these companies really rubbed me the wrong way.




One problem is that I'm not sure why I feel so strongly on this issue. Of course anyone could comment here on how my Jewish past relates me to the Holocaust so I feel a moral imperative to act now. And while this may be slightly true, I have only distant connections with family members and the Holocaust, so I just don't buy into that reasoning.




I've attended a few of STAND's (the group fighting against the genocide in Darfur) meetings and have been aware for some time that Professor Weitzman (the director of the Jewish Studies Program at IU) is the faculty adviser for this group. Now this (I'm nearly positive) was not in Professor Weitzman's job description but I find his engagement with STAND and their fight for divestment extremely important. It makes me incredibly proud to see his name as the only faculty member quoted throughout the article and to see that a representative of the Jewish Studies Program has taken a direct role with this fight.




I live a busy life, just as everyone out there does, but this series of stories in the IDS has really made me stop and think. I have in my mind related this story and the "outing" of the IUF to all of my courses, from nonprofit management to Jewish Identity to a course on Democracy in Times of War. I keep talking about it with my roommates and friends all in hope that someone will be able to change the mind of the IUF so that we stop funding the genocide....and oh....so that our university can rid itself of this tainted reputation.




If you care even a bit about this, take a moment to sign this PETITION, demanding the IUF remove all resources from funding the genocide in Darfur.




Sunday, April 6, 2008

Jesus and Shneerson - two of a kind

I don’t know what to say. I discovered a video yesterday on Fifty Shekel’s website that I had intended on only watching a few minutes but couldn’t draw my eyes away for the full half an hour. In that time, I watched a Jewish boy raised in an Orthodox setting as he accepted Jesus as what he claims to be THE Jewish Messiah. I have already considered Messianic Jews a bit nutty. Without ever speaking with one, I drew a conclusion (and perhaps bought in to the stereotype) that they were confused individuals who couldn’t decide if they wanted to be Jewish or Christian.
This is what I was able to draw upon completing the assignments for tomorrow’s class: These people are born Jewish, meaning they have at least one Jewish parent. On the video “Sid Roth’s ‘It’s Supernatural!’” we learn that Aviad Cohen led what mainstream folk would consider a legitimate life. He was a religious boy who grew into a religious man. He went to Yeshiva in high school, he was living in New York and dedicated himself to the practices of Orthodox Judaism as he simultaneously developed his love and skills as a musician. Once the Orthodox lifestyle became too much and he lost trust in his rabbis as his mentors, he began searching for a Truth. He said, “I just wanted to be a nice Jewish boy.” For as long as he lived, he was taught that because he was a Jew, he was a chosen person. But he wanted a greater understanding; he wanted to know why he was taught to adopt this life of an observant Jew and accept that we were still waiting for the Messiah.
One day he watched the Passion of the Christ and when he was watching Jesus’ crucifixion, he felt as though his Messiah was sacrificing his life for his sins. From then on it took little convincing before Aviad Cohen took on a new identity – that of a Messianic Jew. He maintained practicing several traditional rituals which he grew up with, all the while accepting Jesus as the Messiah and the notion of the Holy Trinity.
Throughout the video, this young man looked “normal” and he didn’t even sound nutty. I began to wonder whether his combining of Jewish and Christian beliefs is that different from Chabad Jews who as far as I know believe their leader, Rabbi Shneerson will become the Jewish Messiah in another life. Last year during the Jewish holiday of Lag Ba’Omer, I visited Mount Meron in northern Israel. I wondered the streets as I watched these ultra-religious Jews essentially praise Shneerson as they danced near a photo of him about the size of Ballentine Hall. I still recall comparing all I was witnessing at that moment to the ways in which devout Christians praise Jesus. Now I wonder whether Messianic Jews’ practice of assigning the role of the messiah to Jesus is entirely different from those Jews who too believe R’ Shneerson will become their messiah.
Even if Cohen and Shneerson followers differ in their concrete belief systems, they share two basic commonalities. First, they both consider themselves Jews. Second, they both believe that the Messiah will bring redemption to the Jewish people.
Clearly the preceding thought is a bit far-fetched, but I believe I am on to something. I am very much anticipating tomorrow’s discussion in class. I am fairly confident that my fellow classmates will come into the lesson with a similar knowledge base as my own, but I wonder if they came away from the assigned text with similar perceptions.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Members of WHICH tribe

I loved watching the film clip in class about the “Jews of Color” synagogue. It was like watching traditions with which I am familiar as they were spoken in a foreign language. Men were chanting from the Torah wearing tallitot (prayer shawls). A synagogue was full of Jews who all were familiar with the melodies and liturgy that was being recited during this Torah service. Everyone seemed as though they were familiar not only with the rituals but also with one another. I loved that I was watching a Jewish community, in America, that seemed so familiar yet so foreign.

For me this tension was initially exciting. This was all new to me. Not black Jews but black Jewish synagogues. And I do not use that terminology lightly. Rabbi Funnye (from the reading and the New York Times article that I had ironically read the day before this lecture) serves a Jewish community of around 200 Jews at Beth Shalom B’nai Zaken Ethiopian Hebrew Congregation in Chicago, Illinois. When I first learned the name of the congregation, I was taken back by the term “Ethiopian” in its title. There is an inherent discrepancy between the politically correct term “African American” and those “black” or “Jews of color” who belong to synagogues like Beth Shalom B’nai Zaken Ethopian Hebrew Congregation. To me this discrepancy is obvious – not all the Jews we saw in the film or read about in the Wolfson article come from Africa.

But this leads me to consider another point we discussed in class – that Jews consider themselves a homogenous group, all sharing a common history and image. Terms like MOT, or “member of the tribe” completely support this idea but only from the outsider’s perspective. But this issue, again, does not solely relate to the Jewish people. We Americans look to our nation’s motto “E Pluribus Unum,” or “Of many, [we are] one” as indicative of our cultural identity. Jews and Americans alike therefore have this force leading them to identify with a larger group of people of whom they may not necessary relate in terms of histories, traditions, images, etc. I seriously wonder why this is. Perhaps it is what has kept us going for so long. We tell ourselves that we have are a strong people because we believe in ourselves and our right to exist as liberal democratic Americans and modern monotheistic Jews. But as we saw in the film I referenced above, we are incredibly different! We may share a few basic values that we have come to term as “Jewish” but what then holds us together when we simultaneously strive to differentiate ourselves from one another.

Jewish Studies - what's the point?

Examining the Jewish studies program at Indiana University is something of which I am quite familiar. Before leaving for Israel my senior year of high school, I was somewhat set on attending the University of Missouri to acquire a degree in Journalism (as I was living in St. Louis at the time). Upon returning home from my first “study abroad” experience, I decided a degree in Jewish Studies would suit me more appropriately. And with that I began my freshman year in the Jewish Studies Freshman Interest Group on my way to acquiring the first of my double degree in liberal arts.

I came to college for two reasons: to acquire a better understanding of Judaism in relation to the world around me, and perhaps more importantly, to get a job. I have been job hunting now for the majority of this school year and have come to one conclusion – I am not prepared to enter the world of Jewish professionalism. If a degree in Jewish Studies, however, didn’t prepare me for this, what exactly did it do?

We were asked in class a while back to design our own Jewish Studies program for a university and this was an interesting task for many reasons. Despite Horowitz’ reasoning for not considering Jewish Studies an ethnic studies program, I believe students and departments of this nature would benefit from this. Studies of people come about, I believe, because they are a minority group (sometimes considered an ethnic, racial, or religious group) and those who associate with that group want to understand and tell the world about “their” story. This is why I will be acquiring a degree on this subject matter.

But how exactly does a degree in any area of ethnic studies or liberal arts prepare someone for life after an undergraduate degree? I am unsure whether ethnic studies and most liberal arts degrees can translate into something concrete – may that be a lesson learned or a job skill acquired. I believe that the questions we discussed in class that day do not solely relate to Jewish studies but to the field of liberal arts. Through my lenses, I am seeing this not only as a Jewish question but as one to ask university president or faculty members. If not to lead to graduate school or refined study programs, where will a degree in liberal arts take you?