Hypocrisy

Hypocrisy. Yes, that is an especially huge issue that I have with the Judaic world. I could probably write pages upon pages on this subject, but quite frankly, it is just not worth my time. However, I will point out some of the things that really got my panties in a bunch.

So I wasn’t born into the Orthodox world. Yes, both my parents are Jewish, but they did not observe the laws. My paternal grandparents were quite observant, though, and they wanted heir son to marry someone who was, too. However, that did not work out that way. So a year after they were married, I was born.

I remember turning the TV on on the Shabbos, picking up the phone, making calls, turning on lights, cooking, etc. I even started out in a laid back Jewish nursery classroom filled with both boys and girls. Somewhere after that, I know not why, my parents decided to send me to a yeshiva. And not just ANY yeshiva… a Bais Yaakov yeshiva. (insert roll of eye here)

It was such a struggle for me. Me, coming from a very non-religious home, one that does not observe the very common laws, was put in a fish bowl filled with fish that had a very strange way of life. I remember the first time I was given a Sidur. I didn’t know what everyone was saying, where they were following in the Siddur. I looked over to a classmate to my right and tried to peek at her Siddur but she got very offended and hid her Siddur from me. I was scared. I felt alone, I felt unwanted and I felt very out of place.

So why was I sent to such a school?? Because my parents were trying to be good Jews and well, quite frankly, what other alternative was there? Public school was out of the question for them.

So anyway, back to my experience in grade school. I was called names, “goy” was one of them. My mother did not cover her hair appropriately and the kids saw this when she came to pick me up. It was hard feeling anything but being an outsider. An unwelcome outsider. Instead of bringing me closer, the whole Kiruv-schtik, I was feeling pushed away for being different.

They spoke of, in school, how the very first thing you do when you wake up in the morning is wash your hands six times… how to put your shoe on the right foot first, how to say Modeh Ani, etc. Things that were so common to all, having been brought up in a truly observant home, were to difficult for me to grasp and do the same. I so wanted to be a good Jewish girl. I soaked in everything I was taught, I tried to implement those things in my home, but it’s rather hard when you see the exact opposite occur in your home. One example of hypocrisy.

So my family slowly started to observer some of the laws. We built a succah for the first time, my father started going to Shul. We kept kosher (the K was still eaten, so it wasn’t completely orthodox –yet). I saw the transition occur but it was slow and I remember it all very clearly. We stopped watching TV. Now that was hard! But there were books. We still used the phone, we still turned on the lights, showered, somewhat cooked, etc. Like I said, slow transition.

Then my brother was born. About three years after I. I honestly believe that was the turning point in my family. The marking of their firstborn son. Of course, he was sent to yeshiva, too.

And for many years, we seemed to remain where we were. We lived a travesty; observing the Shabbos our way. Went to Shul on all the holidays, Shabbotim, kept kosher even more firmly so, but we still turned on lights, turned on and off the AC, occasionally made phone calls on the Shabbos, carried tissues, keys, snacks on the Shabbos. By travesty, let me explain. I rarely
invited friends over because I was embarrassed. We didn’t wear fancy robes on shabbos. I wore a denim skirt, t-shirt, sometimes sweatpants, we had a TV in the house that was not hidden (so I guess it’s OK to have a TV in the house as long as it’s hidden and no one SEES it. What you don’t see blatantly doesn’t exist? Funny that… I don’t SEE God, so why does he exist to the Jews? Ok, so I digress..) I remember getting caught by a friend who unexpectedly stopped by for a visit on the Shabbos. I was so embarrassed. I was in a denim skirt, my dad was lounged in shorts and a t-shirt on the couch reading a book. Mortified was more like it! I didn’t have large bookcases in the house filled with Sefarrim, I had a large TV staring blankly at all who walked in the house. I still feel my face burning with the shame I felt back then when I recall this memory today.

If memory serves me, it was around Bar Mitzva time for my brother when I started seeing more change. At which point I had a little sister and another sibling on the way.

I’ll skip to the things that made an impact on my life;

I didn’t get into the high school I wanted to go to because my father wore a wedding band and my mother did not cover her hair properly. She did start to wear a sheitel but only for Chaggim and Shul. My sister didn’t even believe me that my father had worn jewelry. Not until I pointed out photos in the family album that blatantly showed I was right. She still is in denial over this even with the evidence in front of her. Sucks being the youngest, blissfully unaware today of the things that occurred before she was born. That was a turning point for my father. He stopped wearing jewelry after that. I guess he was humiliated into subservience?

My brother told my mother she wasn’t allowed to go out dressed that way. And what’s worse, she actually obeyed him and changed. She would ask him if what she was wearing was ok. How degrading!

We stopped turning on lights on Shabbos. Got ‘Shabbos Clock’ (AKA timers) to turn them on, including the AC.

My brother started making remarks on how I was dressing. Nuh-uh. I did what I wanted when I was in college. Got into quite a tizzy over that with him, but that is for another time.

My brother was enforcing and my parents were going along with it. He’d come home with a new list on kosher foods and those that were not allowed to eat for whatever dumb reason and my parents would agree to follow it.

He commented the kitchen wasn’t kosher enough and my mother obliged to correct this.

One time, I turned the light on in my room so I could read on Shabbos and got yelled at as if I had just murdered someone. When I reminded them that they have done so and nothing happened to them when they turned on a light or the AC, they ignored my reasoning and said something about them sending me to a school where I should know better and how dare I and some more stuff I have blanked out. I got grounded.

My brother stopped watching TV. TV will take you to hell. However, it is OK to listen to the TV as long as you weren’t watching it. Hypocrisy much?

My parents finally got that large entertainment cabinet with doors to HIDE the hellacious TV. My sister was so pleased, she invited her whole class for Shabbos. And as a side-note; she informed me that most all of them had a TV, too. Only her closest best friends talked to her about the shows they all watched. Hypocrisy at its best. And I had a friend whose mother was a
stay-at-home mother who stayed in her bedroom all the time. And I mean ALL the time. She was always laying down and resting. She wasn’t feeling well. But I heard the TV in the bedroom and I knew how well she was resting.

So let me get this straight; you are not allowed to watch TV, it will surely send you to hell, yet it’s OK to have one in the house as long as you maintain the appearance that there is no TV in the house. And the school I went to had the chutzpa to send out a form for us all to fill out if we had a TV in the house and if so, how many TV’s and where were they located. We had four. (snort)
We listed we had one. (snort again)

As times change, so does what is and isn’t allowed. TV isn’t the biggest issue anymore. My youngest brother’s yeshiva is now on top of the whole internet being the biggest hellbringer. All the schmutz and heaven forbid you use it for any homework, research, etc. Now it’s do you have a computer, if so, does it have internet access and is it the Jewish internet. Sheesh.

My senior year in high school brings about the million and one interrogations on what will you be doing after high school. The barrage of questions, the nosy rebbatzins. It’s enough to make anyone sick and feel like they are in the Gestapo!

I was going to college. I knew it, my parents knew it and I had their support. However, heaven forbid I mention this to anyone in the Bais Yaakov school. So.. I lied. I told them I was going to Israel to seminary. And that seemed to keep them off my back. On the meantime, I was studying for the SAT’s and doing all I could to ensure that I could get in to the college of my
choice.

During the whole of my last year in high school, we were called out to have special one-on-one talks with rebbetzins to see how we were doing, what we had planned to do after high school, etc. etc. It was disgusting! We even had to fill out a special form including where we will be after high school. It was filed away to keep tabs on you. Gestapo-much?

Like I said, I lied. I passed the SAT’s with flying colors and made it into the college of my choice. I was on my way to higher education and a better way of life for myself! I was incredibly scared but excited too. This was my way OUT! This was my chance and I was going to make sure no stink’n rebbetzin would stop me. Even when they refused to give me my high school diploma, I lied that I needed it for Israel, like TODAY, and they gave it to me. I wasn’t going to let them stop me. No sirreee!

So what, beside the hypocrisy in my family’s way of life, had me decide to go off the derech? Let me go back a bit to my high school years.

I started asking questions. Little’ol shy me raised her hand and asked some pointed questions. And in all honesty, they were questions I sincerely had because I wanted to understand. I was quite firm in my belief in Hashem and all that, at the time. My family aside, I really wanted to be a good Jewish girl and have a Jewish lifestyle. But I was met with looks, stares, whispers, teacher’s humiliating me for daring to ask. And those kind teachers who took the time, after class, to answer my questions never really did answer my questions. I appreciated that they asked their husbands for the answer but what they came back with was just more questions. In the end, I just had to believe that it made sense because it was the will of Hashem and made me feel like a total idget for daring to question Hashem’s way. So I felt degraded, humiliated and even more confused and started to find that there were so many fragments occurring in my belief.

Slowly but surely my belief was shattering into a million pieces. I would continuously try to find a way to hold onto it. I envied those that believed with such fervor that all would be OK in a time of crisis. But I never saw things the way they did. Just sit back and wait for things to fall into your lap because Hashem will help you. Or just make an effort and Hashem will push you the rest of the way through. Just believe. Believe, believe, believe. I was tired of believing blindly. I wanted to believe that I could do it because I was in control of my life and not be a blind man
stumbling along. I didn’t need any Hashem to do it for me, otherwise I’d be waiting for all of eternity. And this was hard. This was a VERY hard concept to come to. Seizing all those little bits of fragments, those pieces that shattered the very existence that I wanted to so badly to be a part of, I took these fragments and threw them in the ocean. I tossed it all out to sea and decided to be in charge of my life’s journey. I am in control. The destination does not matter as much as the journey. The experiences, the lessons one learns, the journey. That is what this life is all about for me. And I still travel with my head held high, regardless of what rumors are said about me. People will always talk. But actions speak louder than words and if they choose to do loshon hora, they aren’t very good Jews after all, now are they?