Changing for the Better
This is the season of change. If popular media followed the Jewish calendar, we would be inundated with ads for planners, habit trackers, and guides on “10 Steps to a New You in 5786!” right now.
And yet, as most of us have learned the hard way, change is fun to plan but difficult to actually do. Research on public health shows that even when our very survival is at stake, changing our patterns or complying with new medication regiments is hard to implement. Criminal legal scholars spill significant ink discussing recidivism, or the likelihood of a perpetrator re-offending post-release. The results aren’t good, with significant percentages of those released from state prison being re-arrested or re-incarcerated within just a few years. The grim statistics on criminal recidivism highlight how difficult change is, even when our freedom is at stake—particularly because we do not live or change alone, and the environment around us can significantly influence our choices. Change, on the whole, is much easier said than done, especially because it’s not a solely individual pursuit.
I spend a fair amount of time wrestling with this issue because my job, in a lot of ways, is to create change—helping survivors of domestic abuse make the changes that are right for them, addressing gaps in the wider system that combats abuse, and thinking about how we, as a Jewish community, can change for the better in understanding and responding to abuse in families and relationships.
But if change is so difficult, such an uphill battle, is it actually possible? And if so, how do we do it?
In her book Better than Before: Mastering the Habits of Our Everyday Lives, Gretchen Rubin offers some suggestions for changing our everyday habits—ideas that can help us not only as we approach Yom Kippur, but as we think globally about how our community can become a healthier and safer place.
First things, first, we have to know ourselves—if we don’t see our own behavior clearly, we can’t begin to understand what we have to work on. Personally, I start my Yamim Noraim introspection the same way every year—figuring I’m a pretty good person, and then, as I read the Al-Cheits, realizing that actually, there’s something to look at here, and hmmmmm a few things there, and okay wow I need to do some real work over there. The teshuva process is designed to bring us closer to an honest understanding of who we are and how we are operating in the world, so that our “curriculum” for the year to come will be clearer. Communal change is very similar. While it might feel better to only note the wonderful aspects of frum culture (Just take a look at our bikur cholim rooms and gemachs for starters!) it’s only when we can see ourselves honestly—and understand where we are letting people down—that we can begin the road to positive change.
Second, Gretchen Rubin writes, once we’ve become more self-aware, we need to work on our foundational habits, ie. sleep, movement, etc. As we walk through the Yamim Noraim, we can think of these on a spiritual level, as well—are we making space to grow? Are we giving tzedakah? Are we creating opportunities to look beyond ourselves? Communally, I would ask—are we making space for those whose lives have not followed the standard trajectory of marriage, babies, grandkids? Are we building structures that can accommodate different kinds of stories, or only one? Are we willing to accept that there are those among us that are suffering, or do we close our eyes to this painful reality? Are we building foundations that can grow to meet the needs of our entire community?
And finally, are we taking the first step? Gretchen Rubin writes about how the hardest part of sticking to a new habit is just starting—putting on those gym clothes, sitting down at the computer to write your novel. It’s easy to put those things off, to assume that tomorrow, next week, next year will be a better, more ideal window to pursue this or that goal. “Now is an unpopular time to take a first step,” Rubin notes. And yet, if we want to accomplish something, there’s usually no time better than the present. Keeping our first step small and manageable is key, but let’s start now. As we consider our spiritual preparation for Yom Kippur, it’s easy to plan the grand, sweeping, changes we will make this year. But by sticking to one thing, something manageable, and starting now, we can really get somewhere. The same is true for our communities. Will we eradicate abuse in our communities, once and for all, by next year? Probably not. But can we take real and profound steps forward? Absolutely. Choose one small thing you want to do—and do it now.
As the saying goes, Rome wasn’t built in a day—and neither are safe and healthy communities. But by seeing ourselves honestly, setting a foundation, and starting today, we can create a community more effective and responsive to abuse in the future. Because we all deserve to belong, no matter what we are going through.
