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Where Should We Focus?
Jewish leaders around the country weigh in with toughts about whether there is, in fact, a boy-crisis in Judaism right now.
By Kimberly Winston
Is there a boy crisis in American Judaism? Last January, Rabbi Rona Shapiro, a senior associate at Ma’yan: The Jewish Women’s Project, took a stab at the question in The Forward and came up with a resounding “no.” The link between male enrollment in rabbinical studies and Jewish women in temple pulpits and presidencies was too tenuous to draw real conclusions. Curious as to how other leaders in the Jewish community feel about the idea, I began to ask around.
I started with Rabbi Heather Altman, a Conservative rabbi and spiritual director in Chicago, who had this to say: “There is something important to study about the crisis in the quality of Jewish boys. How are we raising our Jewish boys? . . . In addition to teaching our girls about feminism, we need to transparently share the values of egalitarianism and support new models of relationship, respect and honoring one another.”
Vanessa Ochs, a professor of Jewish studies at the University of Virginia, says liberal Judaism may be coddling boys where it should be challenging them. “Orthodox Judaism doesn't seem to have a problem with loss of males, but I don't think it has anything to do with the gender of their leadership,” she says. “It's hard to be an Orthodox guy - tough to wake up early and daven, hard to study Torah for long hours. In piety and study, you can compete, be tough, be successful. If you're up to the task, you can think well of yourself. Maybe liberal forms of Judaism don't set their bars high enough so that boys and young men feel there is enough challenge for them to enter or stay in the competition.”
Says Rabbi Michelle Pearlman, a rabbi at the reform Temple Shalom in Newton, Mass. says that while she tries to engage both boys and girls in Jewish life, she realizes there is a limit to how far she can mentor the boys. She has been inspired by her male counterparts who have had great success in guiding boys into Jewish life, and wishes more men would join their ranks. “Men still outnumber women in the upper echelons of leadership in Jewish life,” she says. “The pool of potential male mentors is absolutely astounding. Rather than blame women for this predicament, why not empower leaders, male and female, to take up the cause and develop the kinds of programs and specialized individual outreach that will bring in young people of both genders?”
Histroy repeats itself. . .
Several leaders that I spoke with pointed out that the idea of men and boys abandoning Jewish life is nothing new – and understanding this can help put the current “crisis” in perspective.
Pamela Nadell, director of the Jewish studies program at American University and author of Women Who Would Be Rabbis: A History of Women's Ordination, 1889-1985 (Beacon Press, 1998), says 19th century Jewish rabbis--at least the non-Orthodox ones--lamented that only women filled their pews. “The historian in me says I’ve heard this before,” Nadell says. “It was more than a century ago and American Judaism went forward with American men and women participating pretty well for the last century, and I’m not particularly worried now.”
It must also be noted, according to Nadell, that one has to look outside of institutional life to see whether Jewish males (and females) are engaged in Judaism. There is an encouraging amount of engagement outside traditional Jewish structures, she says, in Jewish books, cooking, storytelling and music. She cites the singer Matisyahu, a young Orthodox man who prays after his concerts, which are packed with college and high school girls and boys. “There is so much going on outside the mainstream institutions that is really exciting,” she says. “We can’t quantify it, but it is there and it is really exciting.”
Karla Goldman the director of the Jewish Women’s Archive and author of Beyond the Synagogue Gallery: Finding a Place for Women in American Judaism (Harvard University Press, 2000), traces the anxiety expressed by 19th century rabbis into the 20th century, especially as American Judaism moved into the suburbs, leaving much of congregational life to be directed by stay-at-home Jewish women. “Now, too, we see the rise of leadership training programs, intended to identify and nurture an often male elite that can be turned to ensure the continuity of our community,” she wrote in an email message.
“The plethora of strategic planning conferences about the future of the Jewish community which have either completely excluded women or included them in the most marginal of ways, should give us a clearer idea of how the Jewish community continues to organize itself even if, at lower levels, these shifting numbers indicate that, as in the past, women are taking on many of the responsibilities of public Jewish citizenship.”
Overall, I was definitely left with a sense of optimism about where Judaism is heading after talking to these leaders. I leave you with the words of Rabbi Altman: "Perhaps finding passion, growth and innovation in Judaism can be uncomfortable. But that sort of nudging is just what we need to create a Jewish world that is compelling, inspiring and dynamic enough to represent the creative, compassionate and wise tradition that has survived for thousands of years.”
As I dove in, it became immediately clear that my fantasy was wrong. What I found in Rebecca Walker's story was a tale of divorce and conflict over divided identities that eerily reminded me of my own, despite my very different background. Rebecca was a child of the civil rights movement born to a Jewish civil rights attorney, Mel Leventhal, and a mother who was, in 1969, more of an activist than a writer. She was born in a moment of hope, a time where belief in the disintegration of racial barriers still seemed possible.
What do you think? Post your comment.
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