‘How Can I Practice Judaism?’ A Modern Woman Replies, ‘How Can I Not?’

I’ve heard it before. Usually from people who’ve never opened a Chumash, never sat at a Shabbat table, and never, not once, encountered a Jewish woman who was running the entire show with one eyebrow raised and a baby on her hip.

Let me answer plainly.

I Was the Only Woman in the Room.

I spent decades in a field dominated by men. Naval procurement law — not exactly a pink-collar profession. I was the one at the table who didn’t raise her voice, because I didn’t need to. I was the one who did the work twice as well, and so they came to me. I was the one who knew things they didn’t even know they didn’t know.

And I did it all as a Jew.

Not in spite of Judaism. Because of it.

Judaism taught me that to speak with clarity is to imitate the Divine. That to stand before power and argue with fire — as Sarah did, as Devorah did, as Bruriah did — is not unfeminine. It is holy.

Judaism Reveres Women More Than Any Modern Ethos Dares To

Let’s talk history.

While European women were still considered their husbands’ property under common law, Jewish women were inheriting land and managing businesses. The ketubah — a legally binding marriage contract protecting a woman’s rights — existed over 2,000 years before Western civilization caught up with the idea that women were not chattel.

The daughters of Tzelafchad stood before Moses and demanded their inheritance — and G-d affirmed them. Ruth, a convert and a woman, became the mother of kings. Devorah, a prophet and judge, led Israel to war. Yael slew the enemy with a tent peg and got a song written about her in the Bible.

Find me another ancient tradition where a woman could demand her place — and be heard by heaven.

The Ones Who Call Judaism Oppressive Have Never Met a Real Jewish Woman

Jewish women are ferocious. We have been running homes, businesses, nations, and communities since time immemorial. We have outlived empires. We have stood by Torah scrolls while armies burned synagogues. We have taught our children Aleph-Bet with our own blood when schools were banned.

And let’s be honest: half of the men in Jewish history wouldn’t have made it to the synagogue without a Jewish woman behind them saying, “Put your shoes on, the minyan won’t wait.”

You think that’s oppression? That’s infrastructure.

I Didn’t “Choose” Judaism Like I Chose a Career. It Chose Me.

When I put on my tallit of thought — when I sink into the texts, the rhythms, the questions that stretch from Sinai to me — I’m not being subjugated.

I’m entering the oldest conversation in human history.

Do I wrestle with some of the texts? Of course. Judaism commands wrestling. It named our people after the one who wouldn’t let go until he got a blessing. I don’t suspend my intellect at the synagogue door — I bring it in like a flaming torch.

But I also listen.

Because sometimes it is the text that is wrestling me.

Modern Doesn’t Mean Rootless. And Strong Doesn’t Mean Godless.

I do not need your pity, your raised eyebrows, or your well-meaning concern about how I can “endure” Judaism as a woman.

I don’t endure it. I live it.

I am built by it.

I am stronger because I stand within a tradition that has weathered every storm, sharpened every soul, and carved out a place for women not just as observers — but as keepers of the flame.

Final Word:

You want to talk patriarchy?

Talk to the gentile women who couldn’t inherit land in England until 1922. Who couldn’t open a bank account in their own name in America until the 1960s. Who couldn’t own their own wages or testify in court. Then talk to the Jewish women who were issuing halakhic rulings and building financial empires under the noses of Roman emperors.

We’re still here. Still learning. Still teaching. Still burning like the bush that was never consumed.

And no — I don’t need permission from you or anyone else to practice my Judaism.

I’ve got thousands of years of women behind me — and they don’t take shtuss from anybody.