I Still Cannot Believe This is Happening

It'a like not being able to wake up from a nightmare!

 

Racism Within the Jewish Community

By Elishva Rishon

This important article from Nashim Magazine speaks for itself. There is nothing for me to add. It follows in its entirety.

I will start my story by saying that what you are about to read is not an attempt to demonize an entire community. The Orthodox Jewish community has the amazing potential to practice true Ahavat Yisrael and to grow. The keyword here is “potential”. The Baal Shem Tov understood this, and he spent his life trying to show Jews that they are supposed to be responsible for each other and to show each other love. The concept of Ahavat Yisrael is deeply imbedded in Judaism, yet, in my experience, as a Black Jewish woman, it is a concept not always properly embraced.

I grew up in the Orthodox Jewish communities of Crown Heights and Flatbush. As a child, I only saw myself as Jewish and equal to everyone else. I loved singing Adon Olam at the top of my lungs. I loved going over to the men’s side for the Kohanim’s blessing, and I smiled as I felt the warmth of Hashem’s love underneath my Abba’s tallit. I loved saying “Shabbat shalom” to people, even though they never said it back to me. But in spite of my enthusiasm at being a Jew, I learned at a very young age that some members of the Jewish community did not share this enthusiasm.

I will never forget my earliest memory of being introduced to racism in my community. This earth-shattering moment occurred when I was about 8 or 9 years old, in a shul in Crown Heights. On Shabbat, during the Torah reading, a group of kids would always go out to play in the courtyard, and being shy, I never knew how to ask them if I could play with them. Finally, one day, I gathered up the courage and approached these girls, who were playing with a ball, and asked them if I could play. The girls made faces and said, “No, you can’t play with us—you’re black and dirty!”

I didn’t understand.

I checked my hands and showed them that they were clean. They laughed. I insisted to them that I had just washed my hands in the bathroom. They told me the “dirt” was all over my body, and then made a reference to the word “black” again before running away, laughing.

I was still confused.

That Shabbat, I went home and looked in the mirror at myself for hours until I saw that I was black. Once I saw it, I then understood that being black made me “bad” and “dirty”. Until then, I only thought I was Jewish.

The pain of this discrimination got even worse after I was introduced to the concept of colorism (prejudice based on shades of skin tone).

The shul girls would never play with me or my younger sister once they established that we were “black”, “bad” and “dirty”. However, once a year, this rule was relaxed, when most of the other kids went away to summer camp upstate.

With fewer kids to play with, the ones who were still around felt it was “ok” to play with us—the black kids, the leftovers.

In this instance, I was standing side by side with my younger sister, and the girls were deciding whether or not to play with us. I remember them saying they would play with my sister but not me, because she was the “lighter shvartze”, and “better” because she was “less dirty”.

When my younger sister went off to play with them, I ran to the bathroom—the bad, smelly one that no one went into—to cry. I stayed there until I heard davening conclude with the kids singing my favorite song, Adon Olam.

The girls repeated this selection process over and over again throughout the summer. Now exposed to colorism, I secretly began to resent my sister, who was shades lighter than me.

I also began to resent my dark skin and would try to wish it away or scrub at it unnecessarily, in the hopes that it would make me lighter.

Looking back on it now, it was utterly ridiculous, yet to my young, developing mind, these negative interactions—followed by many, many more similar situations—were creating deep trauma in my psyche.

Coming into adulthood, my experiences of racism within Orthodox circles only became more complex and troubling. To be clear, not every racist situation I have had to endure was always done in such an obvious manner. Some racist interactions are absentminded ones. However, most racist exchanges are less apparent and very subtle—aka microaggressions. They are much more common than loud, screaming racism.

I have experienced these microaggressions in everyday situations, such as:
Walking into a Jewish store with Jewish friends and being the only one watched and followed by the store manager.

Being at a job interview with a Jewish employer who makes comments like, “I was expecting a Jewish girl from Brooklyn,” and when I say, “I am a Jewish girl from Brooklyn,” he looks at me with smug disbelief.

Being on a shidduch date, and having to tell the man to stop touching me since I am shomer negiah, and then he smirks and uses various words to insinuate that I must be immoral because, in his experience, someone who “looks” like me doesn’t act appropriately.

Being at a singles shabbaton in a hotel, dressed in fancy Shabbat clothes, wearing a Magen David necklace, and still, several fellow Jewish attendees throughout the event approach me to ask me when their dinner will be served or why I am there.

When someone refuses to believe that I am Jewish or was born a Jew and says, “You don’t look Jewish.”

These microaggressions don’t go away with time or when “people get to know you”, as some in the community love to claim. No—they are persistent to this very day, because this behavior is generally tolerated in Orthodox Jewish culture. It is inescapable. And it is something that eats away at my neshama, hurting it, every day.

Another awful aspect of going through these experiences is telling my friends in the community what is happening, and then being told 1 of 3 things, or even all 3 things at once:
1. “I don’t believe you. Prove it.”
2. “Stop being so sensitive. Everyone has a tikkun—yours is being black. Deal with it.”
3. “Stop being so negative. If you were more positive, people would not be racist toward you. Also, stop making a Chillul Hashem by talking about bad things other Jews do to you.”

It is so frustrating to hear these responses repeatedly throughout your entire life. It makes you feel helpless, as you are being victimized again. It makes you feel like you are being a bad Jew by discussing being treated poorly, differently or both, just because of your skin color. It makes you feel anger and humiliation, as no one wants to make a change and would rather label you as the problem.
It also places a huge burden on you to handle this constant behavior on your own—something which directly goes against the concept of communal responsibility associated with Ahavat Yisrael.

I hope that I have brought some awareness to the community by writing this article. I would like to ask the members of the Orthodox Jewish world to be more mindful of other Jews and what they teach their children, and to listen to Black Jewish people and believe Black Jewish people when we tell you we are dealing with situations of discrimination. We can’t fight these battles on our own—we can only work on this together as a community.
 

A Major Kiddush HaShem

Darchei Torah Honoree, Everett Fortune (Mishpacha)

If there was ever a major Kiddush HaShem, this one is it! From Mishpacha Magazine:

The short clip that went viral on frum social media last week depicted a scene as improbable as the story behind it.

Yeshivos are always looking for the surprise honoree to wow dinner guests, the next level keynote speaker who will keep donors coming back the following year. His last name aside, Yeshiva Darchei Torah did not honor Everett Fortune for the number of ads he could attract for the dinner journal. In fact, Fortune was not even aware he would be honored when he showed up Sunday night in a red-and-white-striped shirt, black jacket, and dashing Homburg, he told Mishpacha in an interview.

Everett Fortune is Darchei’s chief of security, a position he’s held for the past 30 years. He recently recovered from a years-long illness, and the yeshivah wanted to express its appreciation for his decades of work.

“He knows every single child, he knows every single parent,” said Rav Yaakov Bender, the rosh yeshivah, as he introduced Mr. Fortune to the dais.

Fortune was greeted with an extended standing ovation as he made his way up, embracing Rav Shlomo Avigdor Altusky, rosh yeshivah of Darchei’s Beis Medrash Heichal Dovid, and shaking hands along the way.

“I’m about to burst wide open over here,” said Fortune, tapping his heart as he searched for the right words. “You don’t know, ah, well…”

The applause resumed as two generations of students celebrated the man who greeted them as they got off the bus in the morning or who may have woken them up for Shacharis.

Woken them up for Shacharis?

Yes. Fortune lives near the yeshivah in Far Rockaway and is available for whatever the school needs, said Rabbi Moshe Benoliel, Darchei’s director of alumni affairs. Including pulling the hardest duty of all.

“I used to be the vekker,” Fortune said. “I used to go around to the dorms and get them out of bed. I loved it. I used to turn over mattresses so they would get out of bed and get to Shacharis on time. That was one of my most exciting [duties].”

Fortune grew up in Inwood, on Long Island, where he attended Lawrence High School in the late 1960s. It was there that he got his first close exposure to Jews.

“I grew up close to the Jewish neighborhood,” he said. “I learned about Jewish food through my mom, who used to be a cook for a family named Lichtman in Woodmere. My mom and dad always taught me to be friendly to everybody, so I was friendly to everybody.”

Darchei opened in 1972 and purchased its current campus in 1990. “Everett was literally the second security guard hired, the first one was his brother, Elliot,” Rabbi Benoliel said. “Very quickly afterward they hired Everett. Elliott is retired and Everett is still here.”

The mother of the Fortune brothers passed away in 2004. She was a regular attendee at the annual Darchei dinners, her son said. Fortune said she would have had a lot of nachas from the plaque he received from the yeshivah, along with the warm appreciation.

Hundreds of others also had nachas watching.

“Oh, my gosh, I’ve had parents stopping in middle of the street, holding up traffic, just telling me how much they loved it and how much they love me,” Fortune said. “They told me it was a great honor, and you deserved it. Even the students came up to me, and they said, ‘We love you. You looked great.’ And they liked my Homburg hat. One mother told me, ‘I saw the video,’ and she just started crying.”

Over the years, Fortune evolved from being one of two security guards to overseeing a whole team of security, which includes what Rabbi Benoliel calls “measures seen and unseen to protect the students 24/7.”

“I just get my energy from these kids,” Fortune said. “I call them ‘my little kinderlas.’ I love them. The way they greet me when they get off the bus, it’s a great feeling all the way around. Also with the high school, with the bochurim.”

Former students who are parents take pride in pointing Fortune out to their children and saying, “Look, kids, he used to be my security guard when I was a kid.”

But things were not going so well four years ago. Fortune was diagnosed in 2016 with stage four colon cancer. He remembers the date of his diagnosis vividly — it was on his birthday, March 14.

Rabbi Boruch Ber Bender, a son of the rosh yeshivah and founder of Achiezer, the largest social services organization in Far Rockaway and the neighboring Five Towns, harnessed his organization on Fortune’s behalf, finding him a specialist at Mount Sinai Hospital. Fortune underwent multiple surgeries as the cancer spread to his liver.

“I had so many parents coming to visit me, students daven for me,” he recalled. “The office staff came and davened for me. It was unbelievable.”

One incident that “really got to me,” he said, was when a preschooler approached him during a rare return to the school during his illness and asked indignantly, “Where. Have. You. Been? I missed you.”

Rav Bender recalled at the dinner how the desk nurse at Mount Sinai, who was also African American, asked him who Fortune was. There were so many visitors, she figured he must be important.

“I explained that he is the person who cares most about the students in our school. He’s the chief of security,” said Rav Bender, his arm wrapped around Fortune’s shoulders. “She said that in all her years of her being in the hospital, she never saw as many visitors as she saw for Mr. Everett Fortune.”

It took a few years, but he got a clean bill of health in 2019. He attributes that to all the tefillos said on his behalf.

“I used to tell the kids, ‘Get upstairs for Shacharis, you have to daven,’ ” he said. “I went to the classroom, and I explained to them, ‘You put that tefillin on. It works. Daven! I’m standing in front of you now because you davened for me. I’m telling you.’ ”

“I have no problem with the kids going to Shacharis now,” he added with a laugh.

He also ascribes his good health to a small bracelet he wears on his hand.

“When I was in the hospital doing very bad, one of the bochurim from the high school put this on my wrist,” Fortune said. “He said, ‘Everett, you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m going to put this bracelet on you — it says Thank You, Hashem.’ I don’t leave home without it.”

If he had the chance to give his acceptance again, would it be any different?

“I had no idea that I was going to be honored,” Fortune said, still awed by the event four days later. “I had no idea whatsoever. I’m still numb. I’m in awe. I’m like, wow,” he said, breaking off into laughter. “My legs are still buckling. I’m overwhelmed. I still can’t believe it.

“There’s nothing like the Darchei family over here,” he added. “There’s just nothing like it.”

Big Wow!

Political Correctness at its Worst

Rabbi Avraham Elimelech Firer (JNS)

The following column in JNS by Ruthie Blum says it all:

The brouhaha surrounding a benefit concert whose proceeds were earmarked for the health-care NGO, Ezra Lemarpe—founded and directed by genius medical autodidact Rabbi Avraham Elimelech Firer—is a perfect example.

The concert, a tribute to the 50-year career of Israeli singer Shlomo Artzi ahead of his 70th birthday, was supposed to take place on Nov. 20. It was canceled on Monday by Firer, who was fed up and clearly hurt by the commotion that his religious beliefs were causing.

The carry-on began when it emerged that certain female singers would be on the program, along with the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra and other prominent performers. But the rabbi is a haredi (ultra-Orthodox) Jew who adheres to the modesty directive that men may not hear women singing, as their voices can be seductive.

This tenet of kol b’isha erva (“a woman’s voice is nakedness”) has been the subject of much controversy among Israelis who consider it a sexist affront. Two recent gender-segregated music festivals that were held in public spaces catapulted this issue back into the headlines. A nationwide argument erupted over the limits of religious freedom and practice in the public sphere, particularly when involving state-funded or municipal venues. One slogan that was slung around during the battle against those events was: “We’re not Saudi Arabia.”

It is thus that when the organizers of the gala honoring Artzi discovered and revealed that no female vocalists would be able to perform, incensed women artists made a stink, and their male counterparts began to announce that they couldn’t possibly appear on stage under such circumstances. You know, out of “solidarity” and in “principle.”

Which actually meant that they feared being accused of chauvinism.

Thankfully, a handful of stars, including women, came out on Firer’s side. They argued that fulfilling the rabbi’s wish would be a negligible price to pay for the millions of people, including women, whom he has served and whose lives he has saved.

The iconic Artzi, dubbed by some as “Israel’s Bruce Springsteen,” was not one of them. Instead, he said that he would “do everything he could” to persuade the rabbi to suspend kol isha just this once. It was both silly and an expression of utter ignorance. Indeed, he might as well have suggested that Firer dine on pork during the concert in order to smooth ruffled feathers.

If anything illustrates the danger of viewing individual issues through an inflexible ideological prism, this is it. Firer has proven himself to be a selfless and heroic figure, who has done nothing but use his eerie gift to help comfort and heal millions of people, without regard to their ethnic, religious or gender identities.

His almost mystical talent is a self-taught encyclopedic knowledge of diseases and cures; the ability to read and swiftly decipher complicated medical charts and scans; and the skill to diagnose rare conditions. He uses the above to refer each of the dozens of patients he sees daily—at no charge—to the appropriate doctors.

For his tireless efforts and the running of Ezra Lemarpe, he was awarded the Israel Prize in 1997, as well as honorary doctorates from the Weizmann Institute of Science and the University of Haifa in 2002 and 2008, respectively. Israelis from all walks of life have sought and received his advice and expertise. So well-known has his miraculous medical “matchmaking” become that he is as big a star as Artzi, but for a far more important reason.

The sanctity of life is but one of Firer’s religious principles. Another is refraining from listening to women sing. Allowing the latter to cancel out the former not only is intolerant and unjust, but exposes the kind of narrow-mindedness that feminists and fanatical secularists accuse the haredim of possessing. In this case, it also turned what would have been a blessed happening into an empty auditorium.

Trump 1999

Someone sent me this unbelievable 60 Minutes story about Donald Trump - who was interviewed by Dan Rather at the time. Trump's personality has not changed.

He considered running for President back then. Most of the people that saw that 60 Minutes segment probably laughed at the idea. One so called expert said it would never happen. One of the few things that are indeed actually impossible. And that Trump knows that. Kind of makes us all look foolish now.

Centrists, Charedim, and Open Orthodoxy

Rabbi Jonathan Muskat (Facebook)

Brilliant piece of writing in the Times of Israel by Rabbi Jonathan Muskat. It reflects my views completely. Only he said it much better than I ever could have. It follows:

Last week I authored a blog post where I suggested parameters for preventing a schism within Orthodoxy in general, and between the Modern Orthodox and Open Orthodox communities in particular. I received much feedback from this post, and one central question that intrigued me was why I, and for that matter other modern orthodox Rabbis, feel compelled to call out practices we disagree with on the left (for example, partnership minyanim) and not on the right (such as the erasure of women from publications).  I can’t speak for other modern orthodox Rabbis, but I can share with you my perspective on this matter.

I believe that both the Charedi and open orthodox leadership, like the modern orthodox leadership, are sincerely motivated to engage Jews to connect with God in a meaningful way.  Nonetheless, as I noted last week, there are circumstances that I believe compel me as an Orthodox Rabbi to speak out. Despite my greatest wishes for unity, there are issues that put the integrity of Orthodoxy at stake and it is insufficient to remain silent or even “agree to disagree.”  The question is, of course, what are those issues? When must we draw a line in the sand and say, “this is not Orthodox Judaism?”

Regarding my relationship with the Charedi community, much of the Torah that the Charedi world produces has nothing to do with controversial hashkafic issues and I want to benefit from their Torah.  The Charedi or more insular world is hundreds of years old, if not more, from Ashkenazi Jews in the Middle Ages to the Eastern European communities, and there is a tremendous amount that we can learn from them.   Even in areas where I disagree with them, I am often able to understand the sources they rely upon for their approach.  

I recall reading an article by Rav Aharon Lichtenstein where he pointed out that whereas he supported the Hesder Yeshiva movement, nevertheless, the “non-Hesder/Torah-only” movement is backed by Torah leaders, also has a religious tradition, and is also legitimate.  He wrote that “hesder is at least as legitimate a path as any other.  It is to my mind, a good deal more; but surely not less.”  His disagreement with other Torah leaders about the Hesder Yeshiva movement essentially became a classic debate similar to the debates between Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel.  On this issue and others, I have no problem expressing to my community where my approach differs from the Charedi approach, while recognizing that they have Gedolim who support their positions as well.

That being said, I do not identify with many hashkafic positions held widely within the Charedi community.  In addition to their reluctance to send their boys in Israel to serve in the Israeli defense forces, I disagree with their approach regarding the Kollel movement as well as their lack of higher Jewish education in the area of Torah She’ba’al Peh for women, just to name a few issues.

What do I do about all this?  For the most part, as a Rabbi in the modern orthodox community, I address issues facing my community and not issues facing the Charedi community.  Just as I would not want the Charedi community to impose their view on my community, I allow them to deal with their issues to the extent that those issues generally only affect their community.  However, I will speak out if I feel that their position may impact the modern orthodox community.  And of course, I espouse the modern orthodox approach in my shul, from advocating for high level of Torah She’ba’al Peh study for women, to celebrating Israeli soldiers in our community, to clearly stating, when necessary, that I believe in the “learner-earner” model for the vast majority of our community.

Recently, a new issue has emerged where the Charedi and modern orthodox communities diverge.  That is, the elimination of pictures of women from Charedi publications, some of which are purchased by modern orthodox Jews.  In the past, I have expressed my opposition to this practice.  This practice does not reflect our Jewish value of modesty, and I have noted that in modern orthodox publications and websites (like the OU and RCA), pictures of women are featured.  Rav Hershel Schachter himself called this practice silly. However, the publications that have removed women’s pictures are Charedi publications run by Charedi leadership.  The fact that many modern orthodox Jews purchase those publications perhaps suggests that our community should respond by producing our own quality weekly Torah publications where pictures of women are featured, as they always have been.

Regarding the open orthodox movement today, the issues at hand are often of a different nature.  By definition, some are schismatic issues that are more challenging to simply “agree to disagree.”  The last Mishnah in the first chapter of Yevamot describes two schismatic issues: different standards of permitted food and different standards of whom one may marry.  If I can’t eat at your home or I can’t marry your child, then that is considered schismatic according to the Mishna, for obvious reasons. Additionally, more recently, another schismatic issue came up – can I daven in your shul?  Once Rav Moshe Feinstein and Rav Soloveitchik forbade orthodox Jews from praying in a non-mechitza minyan, that effectively severed the orthodox community from the conservative community.  A central component of a religious community is communal prayer and if I can’t pray in your synagogue then I cannot be part of your community.

Some of the divergent issues between the modern and open orthodox communities today relate to standards of freeing agunot, standards of conversion, and partnership minyanim.  Each of these issues alone has the potential to be schismatic. If our divergent practices mean that a modern orthodox Jew cannot marry an open orthodox convert or an agunah freed according to open orthodox practice, or if he cannot pray in an open orthodox minyan, a schism will likely occur.

Other issues that divide the modern orthodox and open orthodox communities may be less certain to lead to schism.  Both the modern orthodox and open orthodox communities are struggling with issues that relate to LGBTQ Jews in our communities, and time will tell how each community responds to this very theologically-challenging issue.  Any response that essentially states that a prohibition of “arayot,” a sin whose punishment is “karet” mentioned in the Torah, no longer applies, may further alienate the two communities.  Were our two communities to differ in our interpretation or reinterpretation of such a strong Torah verse, I do fear that the gap between us would grow significantly.

Additionally, aside from the particular issues upon which we disagree, I think that there is a foundational methodological difference in the way that the open orthodox and modern orthodox communities approach innovation.  That is, our deference to the opinions of the prominent Torah scholars of our generation on issues of major import.

In the modern orthodox world, Poskim who are well-versed and are clearly recognized Torah leaders of our community in all areas of halacha, not just the “hot button topics,” are the ones who collectively provide guidance on both new and challenging issues.   It doesn’t mean that they are experts in medicine or politics or psychology or that they have powers of prophecy, but it means that in significant areas that affect the future of our community, we look to them for guidance.  And after they have adequately reviewed the critical facts in each case, often with the guidance of experts, such as doctors, politicians, or psychologists, as the case may be, we trust them to determine what the practice of our community should be.  Sometimes, they will tell us that we are in a position to make these determinations for ourselves. In fact, often community Rabbis are told that they know the issues involved and are best suited to decide for themselves and their communities. However, our deference to our Gedolim means that we consult with the acknowledged Poskim for critical contemporary issues.  Sometimes they will say “yes,” sometimes they will say “no,” and sometimes they will say, “you decide.”

I don’t think that this approach is shared by the open orthodox community.  Within the open orthodox community, it is my understanding that Rabbis feel more empowered to innovate even when there is no prominent Torah scholar described in the previous paragraph who supports a new practice. In fact, I believe that many of the differences between our two communities regarding the “hot button issues” of our day reflect this different methodological approach; where open orthodox leaders are more eager to respond to challenges with innovation, modern orthodox leaders will not accept a new practice without the approval of our greatest halachic decisors.

To be fair, within the modern orthodox community, the deferential approach I described is often met with resistance.  Indeed, I believe that many in the modern orthodox community have difficulty with this approach, as they believe that some decisions by the modern orthodox Poskim seem arbitrary and illogical.  

I think the reason for this is twofold.  First, maybe the modern orthodox Rabbinic leadership needs to spend more time addressing challenging issues and clarifying why they opt to innovate in some circumstances and not others.  This problem can be fixed with better communication and more access to the modern orthodox Rabbinic leadership.  The second problem is harder to solve.  That is, we live in a world today that has far less respect for institutions and experts than we did years ago.  

Contemporary culture tells us that we know better, and this philosophy has unfortunately crept into our Jewish communities.  As such, if a religious expert has weighed many different considerations in arriving at a conclusion to a “hot-button” issue, especially if that conclusion is  counter-cultural, some in our community would argue that even though they may not have the same halachic knowledge as the religious expert, they understand the issue and are in a position to offer a different ruling.  This presents a challenge for modern orthodox Rabbinic leadership, as deference to authority and respect for expertise is foundational to our practice.

In sum, though there is a divide between the modern and Charedi communities with respect to certain issues, those issues tend to be less foundational to our practice of halachic Judaism and less necessarily schismatic.  Still, we in the modern orthodox world should clearly advocate our position, especially when it affects our community, such as the issue of eliminating women’s pictures in publications or service in the Israeli army.

When it comes to the possibility of schism between the modern and open orthodox communities, I am more concerned.  With regard to the open orthodox community, some of our disagreements are on issues that by definition may be schismatic.  Issues that affect Jewish status and differences in communal prayer are two prime examples.  Additionally, our different approaches to innovation and leadership may, in the long run, simply push our communities farther apart.  I worry that in time, as each side becomes less comfortable with the other’s religious worldview, less interaction between the two communities will ultimately cause a schism that wholly separates the two.  It is my hope that we do retain the goal of living amongst each other and avoiding schism whenever possible.  Our community is stronger when we are unified, and I still do believe that there is much that currently unites us.