From the Brook: Old Traditions in New Places

Something that my cohort at Glen Brook learned very quickly about me is that I am Jewish, and Judaism– in many forms– plays a significant role in my life. I grew up in a Reform Jewish community in Southern CA, and went to either Reform or pluralistic Jewish days schools from preschool through 12th grade. For those who are unfamiliar with Judaism, there are multiple denominations, or sects within the larger community. The four most prominent denominations in the U.S. are Reform, Reconstructionist, Conservative, and Orthodox Judaism. Anyway, I grew up in what I would call progressive Jewish communities in which people of all genders participate in religious services and rituals. We use Jewish law and text as a basis for our values, rather than a literal guidebook on how to live daily life. Because I spent much of my time growing up in Jewish environments, I did not have the experience that many of my fellow American Jews have of explaining our culture, practices, and community to other people all the time, and potentially facing backlash as a result. Glen Brook is the first non-Jewish affiliated institution I have spent this much time at in many years.

The first Friday evening of our semester together, we had just arrived at a campsite on our first backpacking trip to Mount Monadnock. At home, I typically celebrate Shabbat (the Jewish Sabbath) every Friday night with my family at my grandma’s home (pretty much all Jewish holidays– I am struggling to think of an exception– begin at sundown and end at sunset, the appropriate amount of days later. Shabbat begins at sundown every Friday night and traditionally ends 25 hours later, after the sun has set on Saturday night).

I had thought through how I would observe and celebrate the High Holidays** later in September, but I had not thought much about how, or if, I would do Shabbat while at Glen Brook. That first Friday night on the backpacking trip, we were sitting on various rocks and mats on the ground at our campsite, bowls of boiling water and ramen in our hands. I don’t exactly recall what prompted this, but I remember saying that this was a “Shechecheanu moment” (SHEH-CHEH-CHEE-AH-NU, the “ch” is not pronounced like “chalk.” I can’t demonstrate for you. It’s more like an “H” sound.) I explained that the blessing of Shechecheanu is traditionally recited when something happens for the first time, or on special holidays and occasions of gathering. In my family, we often say Shehecheyanu when we are gathered in a combination of people who haven’t been together in a long time, or when we are in a new place together. The Monadnock trip was my first backpacking experience, and it was our first night on our first Gap trip, so I felt the Shecheyeanu was appropriate. I am not sure what I expected, but I don’t think it was for everyone to encourage me to recite it to them and share more. I did, and then I also was reminded that it was Shabbat. When I mentioned that, Tori asked if I would like to do the Shabbat blessings as well. I looked around the circle for confirmation– did these people I just met four days ago want to be doing this? Were they uncomfortable with me performing my religion that they were unfamiliar with, and being welcomed to participate? Everyone said that they were curious and they wanted to experience Shabbat, though. So there at Spilltoir shelter, under the trees with the light fading slowly from the sky, I led the group through the recitation of the Shabbat blessings. We blessed sticks for candles, our water bottles as the wine/ grape juice, and our ramen bowls as our challah. I felt warm and touched inside, and also pleasantly surprised and confused that everyone was so willing to participate and seemed to find it meaningful to join in my traditions and learn about them. That feeling continued as I had more conversations with fellow gappers about Judaism and religion in the following days and weeks. It surprised me that they were so comfortable saying the Shabbat blessings with me. I was surprised by everyone’s interest in Jewish tradition and history, particularly the denominations and various Jewish ethnic groups. I have never had the opportunity to share my religion, culture, ancestry with others to this depth and extent. I had also never been in a position where I was this removed from an established Jewish community. 

After that first week, celebrating Shabbat became a weekly tradition for our cohort. The second Shabbat, I remember that I went to the field before dinner and cut flowers to bring back to the Nest for our Shabbat table. We ended up eating that dinner outside on the grassy hill, trying to absorb the last of the sun’s warmth as it set. A couple weeks later, Thea and I cooked a big Rosh Hashanah dinner for everyone. We made apple-cinnamon Challah, matzo ball soup, tofu, and veggies. I wrote out the transliteration of the blessings on two of the many small whiteboards we have in the common room of the Hill House, and everyone enthusiastically joined in. It meant a lot to me that everyone was supportive of me observing my holidays, and so excited to participate. After Rosh Hashanah, I decided that everyone’s interest and support of my Jewish life and contributions to our home was genuine and I stopped questioning whether or not they actually were comfortable and/or wanted to participate. 

Because living as a Jew in a non-Jewish place was a new experience for me as an adult, and because talking about Judaism to the general public (especially on the internet) feels so tricky, writing this piece has been a challenge. I want to end with expressing my gratitude to my fellow gappers: thank you for embracing me and wanting to know me, including my Judaism. As you all have come to know, Judaism is not compartmentalized in my life, it is woven into my values and stories and opinions and way of learning and thinking. Thank you for fostering an environment of curiosity and engaging with me and my Judaism. (As I write this, a voice in my head is saying, wow, I wish you didn’t need to be surprised and thank people for being interested. The other voice responds: Ya know what? No, this isn’t just because I have an internalized awareness of protecting myself from potential antisemitism. This thanks for everyone’s loving curiosity and welcome is also because this is something that they don’t relate to directly, and have made the effort to engage with because they are open minded and also care about me). So it is mostly for those things that I say thank you. Thank you for teaching me about your traditions and knowledge, and engaging with mine. 

- Tali

**The High Holidays refer to the sequence of Jewish holidays that typically happen in September or October every year. Judaism uses a Lunar calendar so the dates of our holidays differ in the U.S. calendar every year. These holidays include Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year; Yom Kippur, our day of reflection, atonement, and reckoning about ourselves and the world in the previous year as we enter the new one; Sukkot, the Jewish harvest festival that last 8 days and when we build a special hut called a “Sukkah” to gather in; Simchat Torah, the day on which we celebrate the completion of the Torah reading cycle for the year and begin the Torah from the beginning again.