Ashkenormative

היום שלשה ימים בעמר
Today is three days of the omer
תפארת שבחסד
A day of compassion in a week of loving kindness

Road trips to LA, which I take every 3 months or so, have become opportunities for podcast marathons. WTF with Marc Maron is a favorite, Fresh Air is usually in the mix, and FiveThirtyEight Elections is the seasonal choice. I've also become a fan of Tablet Magazine's Unorthodox.

During an interview with Ladino singer/songwriter Sarah Aroeste, Deputy Editor Stephanie Butnick admitted to being, to her dismay, "Ashkenormative." What a great word, one that should be entered in Jewish-American dialogue.

In the US, the Ashkenazic Jewish culture, passed on from Eastern Europe, is what is seen as Jewish. Fiddler on the Roof has somehow become the source of all Jewish tradition, coming from Jews and non-Jews alike. It's become what defines the Jewish status quo. Any other Jewish cultural, ritual, and liturgical traditions are considered outside the norm. Everything is viewed through the Ashkenazic lens.

The recent ruling--and reaction to it--by the Rabbinical Assembly of the Conservative Movement in America to "allow" legumes, such as beans, and rice and other kitniyot for Ashkenazic Jews really proved the overwhelming Ashkenormative view of Judaism. It made big news in the Jewish world, and even without. I especially love this NPR story, written not by a Sephardi spouse of an Ashkenazi--some would define this as intermarriage :) -- but by a Latina who married into a Jewish family and could now have rice and beans during Pesach.

This brought to my mind that as Jews in this country, we can share the heritage of our ancestors, but we shouldn't be bound or, more accurately, set apart by those demarkations set so many centuries ago. In food, in music, in culture, we are American Jews. We can make our shared, diverse backgrounds the norm.

While not at the top of the issues facing American Jews right now, I think it's time to take off the Ashkenazic filter through which we see American Judaism. At the end of that podcast episode, Stephanie Butnick pledged to try to stop being so Ashkenormative. I join her in that, and I invite you to do the same. The more we open our world, the stronger we'll be going forward.

A Girl of Two Cities

היום ששה ימים בעמר
Today is six days of the omer
יסוד שבחסד
A day of foundation in a week of loving kindness

Today may be Passover, April's Fools, and the first full day of baseball, but for me, April 1st is the anniversary of the day I moved to San Francisco in 1986. I've lived in this city longer than I've lived in any other. My total New York years still outnumber those spent in California, although I will hit that tipping point in the not too distant future.

Even after 27 years in San Francisco, I'm still identified as a New Yorker. One of my 6th grade Sunday School students busted me on this the second time I taught the class--"Marilyn, are you from New York?" When I replied in the affirmative, he said, "I knew it--you sound just like my grandmother!" Okay, the grandmother reference gave me a jolt, but I do know what he means. While I'm not sure about having an accent, there's definitely an attitude, a very direct way of speaking that is an integral part of who I am.

I've tried different looks--even went platinum blond for a year or so. With that look, my family, including my mother, did not recognize me. My 90+ year old grandmother thought I looked very Californian. But as you may see in the photo to the right, my New York-ness still comes through.



I think of myself as a hybrid. I'll never shed my New York persona, nor do I want to. It's as much a part of me as my Ashkenazic Jewish soul. And the Californian part of me is pure San Franciscan, which brings its own set of chauvinistic characteristics. I would say that both places consider themselves food capitals, so I'm lucky to be able to claim them both.

So I stand with a foot on each coast, the sum somewhat greater than the whole. No matter which coast I'm associated with, I am definitely a city girl. In San Francisco that means I have acquired some keen parking skills, as demonstrated by the photo below. Yes, I maneuvered into that spot which as you can see, had little room to spare. And both front and back vehicles were still there when I returned. I will tell you that getting out was easier than getting in, but both were accomplished without too much back and forth :)

Two Threads of My Life....

היום ארבעה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות לעומר
Today is fourteen days, which is two weeks of the omer
מלכות שבגבורה
A day of majesty in a week of strength

My soul's ties to Judaism has two main threads that converge and join with modern influences to inform my practice and, in many ways, my life.

I definitely feel the call of the ancient. I can't remember a time when I couldn't read Hebrew or say the Shema--it was just a natural progression. On my road back to Jewish practice, as I chanted Torah and participated in Shabbat and weekday prayers along the way, the flow of the Hebrew language made a deep connection. And as I delve deeper and deeper into text study of the ancient scriptures, I also find a connection to those people, my people, my tribe. And from that tie also comes a link to the Middle East--a tie that, quite frankly, can bring pain right now. But as a Jew I do feel a tie to the culture of that region, with roots in the same ancient times as so many others.

In my mind, there's little doubt where my tribe ended up when forced out into the wider world. My ancestors did not go south, for I am Ashkenazic to the core--no DNA test necessary :) With Romanian on mom's side, there might be some gypsy influence, but the Galitziana in me from the Sniatyners on my dad's side is strong. Ken looks at family photos taken around 100 years ago, points at a little girl and says, "that could be you."

When it comes to the importance of Jewish ritual in my life--many rituals which stem from the Ashkenazic line--the tie gets complicated by my gender. For years I identified with the yeshiva buchers--boys. I wasn't happy with the identification, but it was the closest I could get. But as I've learned more Jewish history during the years, I have now found my place in those early years. I was in the women's section of the synagogue, leading them in prayer, sharing the Torah parsha with them.

Now, my identity as a New York Jew in San Francisco....well, that's the topic for another post :)