So I'm already relatively failing at keeping this blog up, but at the encouragement/pushing of some people, it's time to blog again!
This past week has been orientation. It's been a while since I've been at one of these, and it was about 10 times more exhausting than I remembered. Luckily there was no book about poverty we were forced to discuss that no one had actually read (hey WashU 2010!), but between speakers, Q&A sessions, tfillah, setting expectations, walking tours and more, our days were packed! Overall, I really enjoyed the week - getting to know my classmates, learning more about the YII program and hearing from some of our future professors. Each person who spoke to us was incredibly passionate, excited and incredibly knowledgeable. The depth and insight about each detail, story and historical fact is truly remarkable. I cannot wait to learn from them!
While I continue to process what actually happened during orientation, I want to first write about two events from last week that are still on my mind. In this post, I'll write about my experience with Women of the Wall and later will blog about my Freedom Ride with IRAC. I knew about both of these opportunities before coming to Israel and was excited that both could occur within my first two weeks of being in Israel. Even though we had to be ready at an ungodly hour, nearly half of my class dragged themselves out of bed to participate in WOW. Unlike my experience with WOW last summer, we needed to arrive as one group due to increased security threats in recent months. With police escort, we bussed up to the kotel plaza where we could immediately hear screaming and booing. I was near the back of the group as we approached, and was surprised when we stopped in the first plaza beyond security. I couldn't even see the kotel. It eventually made its way through the crowd that thousands of orthodox girls had been recruited to fill the kotel plaza to block our entrance. While some were blowing whistles and participating in the shouting, from the photos and first-hand accounts, it seems that most of the girls were just standing there, talking, checking their cell phones and waiting. I can't help but wonder what was going through their minds at that time. What did they think of us? Did they wonder how it felt to be on the other side of the barrier? I know I tried to put myself in their shoes as I tried to process how they must feel so threatened as to attempt to drown out someone else's prayer. We are all Jews, we all want to pray at our holy site and yet we are suddenly divided. The police barrier became a symbol of all that divides us instead of the deep history and tradition that should unite us. It was honestly pretty depressing and challenging to find meaning in my prayers that morning.
However, about halfway through the service, a young girl was invited to the center to read from the chumash (women are still not allowed to bring a Torah scroll to the women's section) for her Bat Mitzvah. As this tiny young girl stood up on the chair and chanted, everyone had tears in their eyes. With her parents and grandparents right next to her, this girl took a step towards Jewish womanhood. While those noises of yelling and anger still rang in the background, I was totally focused on this momentous occasion I was privileged to be a part of. You can see the Bat Mitzvah (and me somewhere in the background... being a ginger in a Jewish crowd makes me pretty easy to spot) here! I hope that this girl grows up in a society where she is able to one day bring her own daughter to the Wall, where she will be allowed to read from a real Torah scroll without fear or hesitation.
As we exited the plaza, a man threw an egg towards the crowd. Instead of feeling scared, I was immediately uplifted to see several soldiers race up the staircase to catch the perpetrators. While things were certainly not perfect, it was affirming to see at least some of the police on our side and stopping abject hatred and rudeness in its tracks.
Even nearly a week later, I'm still processing what happened last Monday. Part of me is still saddened that prayer has placed Jew against Jew and made the kotel a hostile environment. I am also elated that I was finally able to pray at/near the kotel with my tallit that is painted with the skyline of Jerusalem. I also can understand that the haredim feel threatened by WOW's presence and worry their way of life and prayer is rapidly disappearing, but that does not forgive those in the plaza's vicious efforts to drown out prayer and be hostile. A pregnant rabbi from New York was hit with an egg - something is terribly wrong with that picture. I don't know what the solution will be, but I know that I will be there every Rosh Chodesh I am here (bearing unforseen situations) and hope that we continue to inch closer to the kotel we envision as a safe, pluralistic and holy place for all.
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