Stepping into the light

If you’d prefer to get to my annual Hanukkah doughnut survey results immediately, turn to part 2 of this post. I hate to stand in the way of efficient dessert recommendations.

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The Transition

Last year, it was all I could do to show up.

Vertical was hard, and smiling was harder.

I strongly preferred to stay in my bed, covers drawn, kids and dogs with me at all times, door locked, gun loaded. 

Last Hanukkah, there were three shifts of volunteer guards on our moshav, including my husband, armed and watching from our roof and many roofs around us, 24/7. I was not in the mood for doughnuts, as everything after October 7th tasted like dirt. For a very long time.

Experiencing fear at this level did things to me. It stole my health, my sleep, my balance, and any sense of security I had built. It changed my decisions and my behavior. It rocked me at the most basic level and altered my landscape permanently. I couldn’t catch my breath for the better part of a year. I won’t bother describing the depths of the terror any further, as everyone here experienced this. You know. 

It was something even sufganiyot could not fix.

This summer, I could handle the darkness no longer. Going through the motions and making the shnitzel wasn’t cutting it. Boxing up the fear to the soundtrack of incessant war planes above, pretending things were OK and pasting a concrete smile on my face for my kids was not healing me, them, or the nation. Semi-paralyzed, I didn’t attend demonstrations, bake for soldiers, or join fights on LinkedIn. Instead, I doubled-down on my mentoring volunteerism and helped people sustain their incomes during the war, but felt that this level of service, in the environment at the time, was… lacking. 

I needed to do something bigger.

Louder. 

More impactful. 

I felt a non-refusable pull to contribute in an authentic, consistent way that was congruent with who I was becoming in this new post October 7th world. The events of that day, along with the PTSD aftermath which we’re all still living, forced me to “put up or shut up,” as my GenX counterparts would quip. Naturally, since I was raised by socialists and I was picketing on behalf of the teachers union by age 6, I had fully embraced the capitalism route in my adult life, as any child-of-hippies would. It had become time to reexamine that path and align my priorities and my commitments with the potential of what my nation and my culture could and should be. Twenty years in Israel and I had finally arrived at the point where I felt moved — and even obligated — to make the difference I needed to see in my world. 

I could no longer wait for the light to come to me. I was too hungry for it.

So I decided to embrace it. To become it.

The Search

My most effective coping method has always been to arm myself with information. I have a habit of interviewing people to the point of impudence. While these characteristics never went over well in the Midwest, they are tolerated (and even sometimes celebrated) in Israeli culture. Therefore, given that social norms permitted, I launched what I’d call a foaming-at-the-mouth-energetic, comprehensive-yet-wildly-unscientific (picture mad scientist, post-chemical reaction in the lab) research project to discover what was out there that might fit. I found marvelous endeavors, worthy causes, and hundreds of initiatives founded by dedicated visionaries advocating for a more inclusive, pluralistic Israel rooted in respect and democracy.

One is fighting my fight.

One embodies the vision, the leadership, the proof-of-concept, the culture, and the deployment that aligns with who I’ve become, how I work, and the change I want to empower. 

In visual terms, since I can’t not think visually, I’ve always belonged somewhere on the proverbial circus train. Culturally and halachically Jewish, yet staunchly secular and a self-proclaimed Zionist (including whatever that means today); passionate about challah-baking; socially liberal, yet fiscally conservative; semi-lingual in two languages (immigrants become this way instead of learning true bilingualism, unfortunately); raising Third Culture Kids… I’ve never fit into an “off-the-shelf box” anywhere I’ve ever lived. I’ve therefore cultivated my own flavor of cultural identity. 

That identity includes the vision for a Jewish nation that embraces religious freedom. 

Where I Found the Light

Chuppot, an Orthodox Israeli nonprofit which has made a profound impact in its six-year existence, is brought to you by the same folks from Hashgachat Pratit who broke the Chief Rabbinate’s monopoly on kashrut certification in 2018, via a grassroots movement which facilitated an unprecedented Supreme Court win. Immediately following their “exit” from private kashrut certification (they handed the reins to Tzohar after the judicial success), Rabbi Aaron Leibowitz and his gang of freedom fighters turned their attention to the next feasible break in the Chief Rabbinate’s monopoly on religious services: weddings. 

In the last six years, Chuppot and their cultivated network of 30+ Orthodox male and female rabbis have successfully wed over 3,000 Israelis within halacha (Jewish law) and outside the Chief Rabbinate. Behind Chuppot stands a team of dedicated social activists (I’m one of them!), coupled with recognized halachic authorities, who, together, give an impactful voice to our collective, visceral conviction surrounding the Chief Rabbinate’s legally acceptable culture of religious coercion. The Chuppot team advocates to establish an alternative to the legally mandated status quo on the monopoly of weddings in Israel, which refuses marriage eligibility to thousands of halachically Jewish Israelis every year. 

Israel is, in fact, outlandishly — the only country in the world that can and does refuse to marry Jewish couples, forcing them to either leave Israel for nuptials, or turn away from Orthodox traditions entirely. The irony of the situation: those in charge of delivering religious services to the Israeli public are, in fact, part of the same body that is actively driving Jews from Judaism. We at Chuppot find this irony not only perplexing, but untenable.

I’m now part of a team that fights religious extremism within my nation, while embracing (and advocating for!) halachic Jewish tradition. 

I’ve found the right car on my circus train.

I belong here.

None of these folks fit into a box. While the organization is Orthodox, they put their proverbial money where their mouths are and have hired a diverse staff. Some of us cover our hair and some of us don’t. Some of us take Mincha breaks (to pray the afternoon service) while others drive to Tel Aviv on Shabbat for brunch. Nobody here has ever asked me what flavor of observant I am, since they don’t care. Our shared vision and commitment to an inclusive, pluralistic Jewish nation is all we need in common. We might be deemed “troublemakers” from time to time by the establishment, but that is kind of the point. Strategic trouble can beget change. The rabble-rouser car is always where I’ve belonged.

I searched for the flickers of light in our suffocating darkness. Even when I didn’t believe they were there, I foraged for them and I moved slowly but consistently toward them. I have now stepped directly into the light, which is a beam so bright I’m almost blinded. I have an overabundance of light now — it is pouring out of my pores (which sounds like sweat, but is so much better), so this year, I’m able to not only bring it, but also share it. 

Admittedly, I came to advocacy work slower than the rest of my family. To be fair, I came to Zionism in a backwards manner altogether, making aliyah after marrying an Israeli Vin Diesel lookalike and sobbing on the Nefesh B’Nefesh plane on the way over.

The truth: a post October 7th world demands more from me. Israel is my nation — like the politics or not, respect the leadership or not — I’m raising my family here and if I need this nation to adapt and embrace change, I had better become, embody, and empower that change.

The light that I’ve found within Chuppot’s movement is my flavor of Zionism, finally showing its authentic face after many years of avoiding activism in a country where I felt I never belonged. 

October 7th was a collective experience which changed all of us. I’ve now found the light which inspires me, and armed with the best sufganiyot in Jerusalem (see part 2), I will work to position Israel as an inclusive Jewish nation embracing halacha in conjunction with equality, social responsibility, integrity and transparency. 

Chag Sameach, and enjoy the light! It’s on me!