Grace VanderWaal- A True Rising Star

One year ago a 12-year-old stepped out on the stage to audition as a singer, songwriter, and ukulele player for America’s Got Talent. Wearing a navy blue top over a long white collared button-down, yellow tight-fitting jeans and flats, Grace VanderWaal wowed the crowd with her talent, earning her the golden buzzer. Just a few months later, Grace was crowned the winner of AGT, winning $1 million. Since then, the almost-14-year-old came out with an Extended Playlist, a full-length album, and has won multiple awards for her talent. Most recently she was seen on stage at Billboard's Women in Music 2017, winning the honor of Rising Star. At 13 ½, Grace is the youngest person to have received this award, among many others, including Radio Disney Music Awards and Teen Choice Award.

Those who know me, know that I am not a big celebrity follower- I once worked as a writer for a gossip column, but that was really my entry into the celebrity world, and probably my last exit when I left after a few months. Every now and then I will check in with the celebrity world and find a character I connect to, like Emma Watson, or Dakota Fanning, or a celebrity couple like Miranda Lambert and Blake Shelton (I was pretty upset when they broke it off).

So Grace- there is something about her that I connect to. I liked her instantly when I saw her first audition on America’s Got Talent. A pre-teen who wrote her own song, taught herself to play the ukulele, and- according to her music- would act as the person she was, rather than what people wanted her to be- and to share that with the world… that was admirable. Grace made it through to the live shows, and finally, won the million dollar prize.

The thing about Grace- she’s different than other rising stars- her voice is raspy. She has a very easygoing personality (as per interviews and live feeds with her fans). She is quite modest in her dress. And her songs are about life- about society, about bullying, about friends, about being your true self. I don’t find that with many other singers. Many artists sing about love and breakups. Every now and then a song will come on depicting other life struggles. But Grace, in her writing, is unique. She is admirable. And that’s why I am so proud. 

With Grace as a rising star, I feel like our world is changing- one doesn’t need the typical voice of an angel, or to wear particularly revealing clothing, or have a loud, outgoing personality to be loved by America. It seems our society is more open to different types of singers and personalities. And Grace’s openness and growing fame with her out-of-the-box personality and style- is what I believe makes Grace VanderWaal a true rising star.

Feeling Shabbat in Vermont

A few weeks ago I went to Vermont on a Shabbaton with a group of folks from Moishe House in Cambridge. I’ve been looking to get away for Shabbat, my weeks stressful not just from preschool but from co-workers with strong personalities, their years of experience clouding their vision for ideas that differ than theirs (more on that in another post).

When I saw the posting for the retreat, I inquired and found out we would be spending Shabbat at Big Bear’s Lodge in Dover, with a trip apple picking that Sunday. I didn’t know the level of Shabbat observance (although they had insisted the food would be Kosher), and realized that in order to make it I would need to leave at a time that would have me riding in a car after Shabbat began. As per previous posts, I’d become lax in my Shabbat observance, in lieu of getting out and connecting with others. Being in an area of Cambridge that is relatively far from synagogues and Jewish community, I was looking for a way to connect with others that would help de-stress from work and the week.

After arriving at the Moishe House and helping to load up the car, we were off. The ride was smooth, yet crowded. Upon arrival within a few short hours, we unloaded our belongings and set up for Shabbat. Some folks had already arrived, and the last group was due to arrive shortly.

The weekend was filled with activities ranging from playing games to taking walks to relaxing in the spa just out on the patio. It was luxurious. The 3-story house belonged to a lawyer who frequently rented his place to a group such as us- we were greeted with clean towels, a beautiful home with a foosball table and hot tub, and the sounds of crickets at night and birds in the morning.

In addition to Kiddush and Motzi, a couple of philosophical conversations created a more Shabbat atmosphere. Much of the time was spent by the non Shomer-Shabbat participating in more secular activities- spending time on their phones, schmoozing in the hot tub, taking selfies with the red, yellow, orange, and brown trees surrounding us, yet the Shabbat atmosphere- the feeling of calmness- was obvious and present.

The weekend with Moishe House reminded me of a couple of years ago when I was in Detroit for a good friend’s wedding. Aside from the very different experience (the Detroit wedding consisting of mingling with the family and friends of the bride in a shomer Shabbat atmosphere, verses Vermont, with new friends in the Shabbat observance more relaxed), this weekend with Moishe House featured an array of activities for participants. However, at some points I decided I needed time for myself, to sleep instead of participating in the group discussion, to go on a walk on my own instead of with the group. And just as I did this without guilt in Detroit- the first time I truly accepted myself for needing this time and space- I allowed myself to do this here as well. My insistence on staying at the house instead of joining the others for a hike was met with confusion and concern, yet I assured this young woman who had invited me that I was doing something for me, not due to something that “happened.”

It was a beautiful weekend. At times I felt I was surrounded by a group of fast-paced folks with more of a desire to take selfies than live in the moment; to talk to fill up space rather than just *be;* and at times I did feel overwhelmed. But- without feeling guilty, I took care of myself while connecting with others when I was ready. And this made the weekend in Vermont wonderful. And perhaps allows for further connection with these folks in the future.

Inclusiveness- But To Whom?

Several months ago I read an article someone wrote, emphasizing that while people are fighting and protesting for inclusiveness of their favored racial and minority groups- such as the black community and Muslims- they are being exclusive of the “less” vulnerable groups who do not necessarily target these minorities.

During a Pride Parade this past February, Black Lives Matters stated they did not want police acting as protectors due to recent racial discrimination. But by excluding police officers from this parade- ones meant to protect the very people who would participate- what happens to the idea of our society becoming one that is inclusive to all races, genders and orientations?

I experience something similar as a Jewish individual who keeps Shabbat and Kosher at home (although wavering in the more recent past on an individual level, my home remains in “Shabbat mode” from sundown on Friday through nightfall on Saturday, and my kitchen remains Kosher because I believe this should be accessible to those more observant). The one time I attended a Moishe Kavod House Shabbat dinner in Jamaica Plan, I was unable to eat anything other than the tofu pot-luck item I brought and a small box of black-and-white cookies. Everything else was marked as “vegetarian” but not “hechshered" (an acceptable level of Kashrut accepted by Orthodox communities).

I felt the same way when I was invited to a recent Sukkot event open to everyone who had ever participated on an Adamah Fellowship or a season at Teva (two separate farming/ environmental educational programs at the Isabella Freeman in Connecticut). This was a pot-luck style meal where people were encouraged to bring their own dish. But in the email invitation there was no mention of hechshered” verses “non-hechshered” items. I decided not to go, based on my knowledge that, at least from my year on Adamah, most of the fellows were not shomer Shabbat and Kashrut, and therefore the dishes in which I can partake would be limited.

So when a community- such as Moishe Kavod and the Isabella Freedman- boasts about being inclusive, what does that really mean? Inclusive to whom? There seems to be a tendency in a pluralistic society or community to encourage folks to feel comfortable- whereas this really means not feeling pressured to comply with Shabbat or traditional laws, rather than not feeling pressured to comply with the non-traditional laws. So how do we become inclusive to the Orthodox individuals as well as the more secular-identified? How do we broaden the term “inclusiveness” to expand to the religious and non-religious? How do we make everyone feel comfortable, rather than just those who have fewer religious experiences?               
                                                                                           

              

                                

Finding Connection- Off the Derech

I’ve been here for just over a year. Connecting with others in the Jewish community hasn’t been easy. I’ve gone to Netivot dinners; ice cream socials for the 20’s and 30’s sponsored by the local Temple Beth Shalom synagogue; Shabbat Lunch and Learns at Harvard Hillel; I’ve both hosted and gone out to meals. But connections have gone no further than these events and activities, and often I end up asking people’s names and a recap of their occupation, and them mine. With perhaps some additional bits to the conversation, we part and if I see them again it’s the same cycle.

Temple Beth Shalom in Cambridge

Perhaps I’m searching too deeply for something that doesn’t exist. Perhaps I should be satisfied with these interactions that can simply go no further than an every-now-and-then Shabbat meal. 

Someone close to me recently suggested that I allow myself to experience the superficiality of these conversations and accept the loneliness when the conversations end. But I don’t want to live a lonely life. People are not meant to be alone- and certainly not me.

So why is it taking so long to connect?

I mourned over the possibility of living with loneliness, and then something else came to mind. I remembered researching online Meetup events in the past and finding a bar that holds Queeraoke night once a week. The night following this conversation I got dressed and headed out to Midway Café in Jamaica Plain. I met some folks and ended up spending much of the night with a girl, dancing and hooking up. I felt connected and on a high.

The following week I joined a running group. We ran 3 miles, beginning from the Davis train station and up to Alewife Brook Parkway. The endorphins kicked in after the run and I went back the following week.

I’ve even taken the T on frequent Friday nights to ImprovBoston for a comedy lineup, a women’s night, a mainstage show. And I’ve genuinely enjoyed myself, interacting with the bartender, buying a cider, and feeling a general sense of relief and release.

Needless to say, I'm not feeling the spiritual calling that the Jewish New Year- coming up in just a couple of days- is supposed to bring- the desire for a connection to G-d, to our faith. Maybe keeping myself limited to the Jewish community was a mistake- I enjoy meeting people of other backgrounds and perhaps with more appearances at these runs, at Queeraoke night, at ImprovBoston I can establish more concrete relationships. Or at least enjoy myself, in the short term. At least for now.

Reflections As A Teacher- One Year Later

I’m coming up to my one year anniversary as a teacher at Alef Bet (and as a Boston resident). It is remarkable to see how much has changed, and how much the children have grown. There have been a lot of changes in the Bet class this year- we started out with 7 children, and now we have 9, though only 3 of whom were here since the very beginning. Some children left to go to a different school, some have moved up from the Alef class (aged 15 months- 2.8 years), and others have returned to their home country. Nonetheless, there has been an obvious amount of growth in all the children.

The other day, a child asked me if I knew who moved his shoes before rest-time. The children remove their shoes and place them on a cabinet in a line, usually focusing on where they put their shoes, whether it be in the middle, on the side, or next to a particular friend’s shoes. I told the child I didn’t know who moved his shoes. “I’m gonna go ask people who moved my shoes so I know who to be mad at.” I tried to hold in a chuckle while I responded to the child. “I’m sure whoever moved your shoes didn’t want to be mean, they were probably just looking for some space for their shoes.” But there were several steps of development that went into this comment. First was the recollection of where the child put his shoes. Second was the realization that someone had moved the shoes. Third was the speech that the child used- not only did he say he was going to ask who moved his shoes, but claimed he was going to be “mad” at the person who moved his shoes. He was aware of his emotional state and was able to articulate it.

Another child- a former Alef student- accidentally scratched another student on one occasion. When the affected student cried out, the one who scratched her asked, “Are you okay?” as per suggestions by the teachers to check in with a friend when they are hurt. When the child said no, the “scratcher” asked, “How many kisses?” As in, “How many kisses should I give your scratch so that it feels better?” This is something modeled by the teachers- actually something I myself learned from my coworker- that depending on how bad the injury was, the child can decide how many kisses it needs to make it feel better. The child who had done the scratching in the beginning of the year did not use to acknowledge her friends- I didn’t know know whether this was because she did not understand her responsibility in this act or whether she simply refused to do so. This same girl also did not articulate well and was often (and sometimes still is) difficult to understand. But I watched wide-eyed as she fully acknowledged her peer and offered kisses.

I love the work that I do, but I sometimes question whether my role as a preschool teacher is easy and insignificant, compared to my peers’ line of work- my roommate who just finished an internship at an office that specializes in health care policy; a peer who works as a software developer at a high-tech company; a friend who works as a professor at MIT. But then I see the complex towers made in the block area; the many various letters created by children in the play dough area; or a child says or does something that represents a major breakthrough in their development. And that is a big deal, both in the eyes of us, their teachers, and their parents. I’ve been told on multiple occasions that a child comes home describing the things they have learned, or that we have done in class- a child who asks his mom for some coins to put in the tzedakah box (charity); a mom who comes in beaming, blown away by how much her daughter knows about the Passover story. Sometimes it takes some time to reflect on these comments. But it makes me proud to realize that indeed, my children have come very far, and this is much due to my efforts- often working through sweat and tears- as a teacher at Alef Bet.

Leggings- A Changed Perspective

"You aren’t going out like that, are you?” My mom asks me suspiciously, eyeing the black floral leggings I just bought that day. “No,” I said honestly, “But why not?” I wasn’t planning on wearing them out when we went out shopping that evening; however, there wasn’t any particular reason why- I was simply trying them on for a day that I would wear them.

I didn’t used to wear leggings out in public. I also scoffed at people who did- leggings weren’t meant to be worn out in the open, I thought. How disrespectful. But that was before I spent a summer at Eden Village Camp.

Among the policies at Eden Village is one known as “no body talk.” Body talk is the act of commenting on how a peer looks, whether it be about their clothing, hairstyle, or body type. I have on numerous occasions back home been called “skinny,” “small,” “bony,” even “tiny.” And I’ve felt self- conscious about my body, desperate to cover up that which made people point out my flaws.

Two summers ago at Eden Village Camp

But spending a summer at Eden Village- where, instead of focusing on physical appearances- campers and staff are encouraged to look within- my confidence soared. I realized that I can wear whatever makes me comfortable, even outside the Eden Village bubble. While my work attire consists of casual yet professional unprinted T-shirts and jeans, I will take the liberty on non-work days of wearing leggings with perhaps a tank top. Comments about my body may continue every once in a while, but my experiences at this point have shifted my behaviors and responses toward those comments. While I actually happen to think I look good in leggings, my perspective on clothing has changed. And recognizing the qualities beyond those leggings is something to celebrate.

Coming Out During Pretty Little Liars- Why Its Ending Will Be So Hard

I’m not a big watcher of television. But one show that I’ve been consistently keeping up with, almost since its inception is Pretty Little Liars. The show features five girlfriends in the small town of Rosewood. When one girl mysteriously disappears, her four friends begin receiving messages from a mysterious A, which also happens to be the initial of Alison, who disappeared. “A” seems to know everything about their histories and present lives. The series features romantic relationships, friendships, school bullies, family drama, and of course, the mysterious “A,” who sends the girls in a whirlwind of questions that makes them question their own innocence (and sometimes for good reason).

(L to R): Spencer, Aria, Emily, and Hannah

Pretty Little Liars is coming to a close this Tuesday. The character “A” has become a more complicated sophisticated figure, eventually becoming known as AD, manipulating its victims more than ever and testing their friendship among each other. AD is finally supposed to be revealed in this last episode, closing the 7 seasons, and 7 years of airing since 2010.

But the revelation of AD is not what will have impacted me most about this show.

Like I said, I don’t get hooked on television shows often. It certainly doesn’t affect me on an emotional level. But Pretty Little Liars became an experience, not just a show. It represents the tension and realities of teenage-hood, the horrors of betrayal, the sacrifices we make for love. Most of all, for me, it helped me in my coming out process- coming out as a lesbian. One of the characters, Emily Fields, realizes she’s gay after a few encounters with a new neighbor, who moves into Alison’s house after her disappearance. However, Emily lives in fear of her true identity becoming known, fearing judgment and rejection by her family and peers. She eventually becomes comfortable in her own skin, and realizes those closest to her love regardless of her identity. Emily experiences loss and betrayal by her significant others- seemingly more so than the loss and betrayal of the other young women.

I relate to Emily- I was afraid that my attraction to women would cause tension and rejection in my family and my community. I eventually accepted that I was gay; I experienced loss. Those closest to me were understanding and accepting of my identity. Emily was also a more quiet, introverted character, even after coming out, occasionally rising up to challenge others’ shallowness or ignorance. But she didn’t come out with rainbow flags, screaming for justice (not that I condone these behaviors, it’s just not something I relate to). Quiet strength is so powerful.

It was partly due to Emily’s character that I came to accept myself and become strong and confident as an introverted lesbian. This is why the ending of Pretty Little Liars will hit me so hard. It will be the end of a character who lifted me up in times of confusion, helped me feel supported in this new world I’ve discovered, of allowing me to be myself. Emily Fields and Pretty Little Liars are elements of my positive LGBTQ experiences I will never forget.

(L to R: Hannah, Emily, Alison, Aria, Spencer)

Life as a Biker

I bought myself a bike in April. My dad had given me a birthday present, a partial payment for the bicycle that I had been talking about getting for myself since the beginning of the year. Although the weather has been atypical compared to other years- global warming seems to be taking its toll- I knew riding wouldn’t happen until the spring. My dad had suggested “shopping around,” trying out different bikes until I decided on one I really liked. He had also recommended I look for used bikes off of Craigslist or through other means. But I was anxious to make a purchase for a brand new bicycle as a gift to myself. I went to a place almost right across the street from where I live. I tried out a few bikes and decided on a beautiful blue and red Monterey sports bicycle.

After acquiring a lock from a friend I started riding around the neighborhood, and then to work. It’s a 15-minute bike ride and adds adventure to my day. Most of Cambridge is bike-friendly and it feels good to be part of this experience with so many others. I am very wary about drivers- morning traffic is horrendous and cars sometimes seem to be coming from all directions. However, I wear a helmet, obey traffic signals, look around me, and try to bike away from cars parked on the street as much as possible, which may present a hazard if a door opens at any point. I sometimes find myself giving dirty looks to those who bike through red lights or ride without a helmet.

Biking gets my endorphins going; it takes less time than taking the T; and it gives me the feeling of being part of a greater community. I love biking and I’m really proud of the one that I bought. Aside from work, I’ve biked to Brighton once, which is about 45 minutes away, and on the other side of the river. I talk about biking experiences with other fellow bikers and even joined a Facebook Cambridge Biker group. 

Our building has no official storage area for bikes- the options are usage of a room in the basement, where bikes and folded strollers are inconveniently stacked against each other, or in a private individual storage cage on the main floor, where I have to weave my way in and out of the narrow walkway.

I look forward to making more frequent bike trips with friends and community members within Cambridge, to Brighton, and perhaps to Jamaica Plain at some point. Being a biker feels like I'm part of a new world. I'm so happy it finally happened.

Taking a Vacation... Back to Queens

I came back to Queens for the Shavuot holiday for the first time since I left 9 months ago. And man, does it seem different around here. Granted, it is Memorial Day weekend- I got here on Sunday, and Monday the town seemed empty. Some stores were closed, some people walking around, but it was very quiet. I’m staying by a friend whom I went to Queens College with several years ago. She lives with two other roommates in a basement apartment- I remember those days. 

It’s nice to be back and see my friend and- thus far- a family I was close to when I lived here last year. But I don’t miss Queens. In fact, it feels kind of lonely to be back. Most of my friends don’t live here anymore. People have moved on with their lives- friends have scattered- to Washington Heights, to Israel, to Cambridge. Some have gotten married and have kids; others are in law school, or just got their degrees. I certainly have that feeling of “I’ve moved on.” I’ve had positive and negative experiences in my seven years of living primarily in the Kew Gardens Hills area, and I’m happy I decided to make the move to Boston. While it’s convenient to have Main Street Bagels just a few blocks away, and other numerous Kosher restaurants and groceries just minutes away, I feel like- in terms of people- there’s nobody left… except for those who “made it” in the Yeshiva world and are now married with children.

I’m not sure why I decided to come back to Queens for Shavuos. I suppose I wanted a getaway from my busy life in Boston- I needed some level of vacation and decided that New York was close enough, familiar enough, and it would give me a week to re-energize before heading back to work, and beginning classes again towards my certificate in Early Childhood. There are not enough familiar faces in Washington Heights, the Upper West Side, or Brooklyn- to make it worth my spending Chag there. So Queens seemed like a good option. But all I can say is I definitely feel I've moved on. And while living in New York I never really felt there was a place I could call home, now in Boston, I’m feeling pretty happy and settled. And that's something I haven't felt in years.

Exhausted, But Life is Good

I’ve been here for 7 ½ months. It was around the last month or so that I started feeling settled- like I belong here, like I’ve lived here for awhile, and I could imagine living here for the foreseeable future. 

I’m exhausted. Work is keeping me on my toes- with the stress of finishing Haggadot (a creative children's version of the Passover story) with my 3-year-olds and making sure we run our activities on schedule. I’ve been up late nights preparing for work and taking notes for school- a Child Curriculum class that will eventually lead me towards getting my certificate in Early Childhood Education. Grocery shopping, laundry, paying bills- it all has to be done. My social life is minimal- for some reason there seems to be more to do nowadays, and therefore Skype sessions and phone calls with friends have been put on hold. I yearn for Shabbos, when I can relax, sleep, and detox from the week. Most important, I get to disconnect from technology- connect to myself, connect to G-d. 

Although a few months ago I was enthusiastic about starting an intentional community here- that would allow people to connect more through communal contribution of song, food, or help with Shabbat setup- that enthusiasm has faded. My focus has been on other things. I’ve since stepped down from the Netivot board- the LGBTQ organization I’ve been involved with. My heart wasn’t into it, I told them. There was also a level of disorganization that made me feel like I didn’t want to be a part of the board. I’m dating, but not much. I haven’t really set aside time for myself- to meditate, to reflect, to breathe. Usually by the time I get to bed I’m so tired, either I read a chapter of a book or just simply crash.

As I start to think about next year, I’m grateful for a life that provides me stability- I anticipate remaining in my apartment with (at least one of) the same roommates. I feel good about my work at Alef Bet- aside from some minor instances where the work became an overload or I had some negative encounters with my co-worker- and look forward to continuing my job there next year. I’ve even been asked to remain at the Sunday school where I teach about once a month.

I’m tired, but I feel good. And I’m so grateful.

Giving Thanks To My Roots

I have to express my HaKarat Hatov, my deepest gratitude to South Peninsula Hebrew Day School. I attended SPHDS for 12 years in Sunnyvale, CA and I believe it’s thanks to the Hebrew teachers there that I am bilingual, which became essential for my preschool job. Three students in my 2 and 3-year-old class came from Israel- two this year- and the fact that I am able to converse with them in their native language provides a comfortable setting for them. It also provides a bridge among the American and Israeli children, as Americans learn Hebrew words and Israelis learn English. 

“Chamesh Dakot! (5 minutes!)” I announce before clean-up time. “Yoni, Nazelet!” (Yoni, boogers!) I exclaim as I run to grab a tissue for the kid whose nose is constantly running. “Is there sheleg (snow) outside?” I asked, as snowflakes fill outside our windows.

I learn Hebrew too, as my 3-year-old teaches me the word for bending over (Lehitkofef). “Ani lo ben,” she says after I mistakenly refer to her in using masculine form of a word.

Children pick up language so quickly. Although my Hebrew didn’t start until after kindergarten, I learned so much that helped me in later years. It’s wonderful to think that these kids will group up bilingual from such a young age from their experience at Alef Bet.

Perhaps Boredom is Not a Bad Thing

I was talking to my friend the other day, yet didn’t have much to say. “My life has gotten pretty boring, to tell you the truth,” I said to her. I had fallen into routine- I was working 35 hours per week, teaching 2 and (now mostly) 3-year-olds, alternated spending Shabbat with friends in Cambridge and family in Brighton, and went on occasional dates. 

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” my friend responded. After hanging up (and feeling slightly regretful that I didn’t have something more interesting to share), I thought about her comment. I’m pretty happy living with chill roommates and enjoy coming home to our large, spacious, and comfortable apartment. I feel fulfilled in my job and get along with my co-workers. It is very cold in Boston, but I feel needed and wanted all around. “Did you fast today?” My roommates ask me on the 10^th of the Hebrew month of Tevet, a “minor” fast day commemorating the siege of Jerusalem by ancient Babylonians. My roommates, though not observant, are in tune with my life and interested in my activities and my general well-being. That’s something I’d struggled with back in New York- finding roommates with whom I get along and have frequent disagreements.

So, I may have a boring life right now- and I hope to spice it up with the creation of an intentional community, with the beginning of a course this coming week that will eventually certify me as Head Teacher of my class, getting into a workout routine at a gym where I just paid membership. But after a few stressful months of moving and getting settled, maybe boring is what I need right now.

Shabbat was Not Made for Introverts

I hosted my second Shabbat meal this past weekend, after volunteering the space to hold the monthly Netivot dinner. Netivot is the local Orthodox LGBTQ organization in the Boston area catering to folks of all denominations- they sponsor these dinners every month, and hold other occasional events.

At 10 people, I’d say the meal went well; it was different than the last Shabbat lunch that included friends of my roommates, and guests of varying orientations, gathered around our 8-person table. I had spent much of the previous evening cooking for the meal and working on rearrangement and set- up of the living room area. I worked in excitement and with high energy, looking forward to Friday night. The dining room table was covered with a Chanukah-themed tablecloth, sprinkled with glittering stickers of dreidels, oil jugs, candles, and the symbolic Hebrew letters- Nun, Gimmel, Hey, and Shin- seen on the dreidels. Decorations hung from the walls, some extra shenanigans I borrowed from the preschool where I work that I thought would made a difference in the vibe and provide a warm, holiday energy.

Although Netivot meetings and gatherings promote a safe space, I sometimes question my comfort level in people-filled environments. While the first goal is to create a space where people of all denominations feel at home, the second part of that is engaging in trivial conversation- not an area of which I am particularly skillful. It was not unhelpful that, instead of being gathered around a table, we sat around an open space of the living room area, which seemed to provide some breathing room to those of us who are more anthropophobic  or claustrophobic. At 10 of us altogether, I’d like to think the meal- which included conversations about icebreakers, Jewish Taboo, and superhero names- was a success.

Sometimes it’s a relief to be hostess, where I’m not tied down to the group too long, where I’m constantly getting up to clear and get the next course, before I get too overwhelmed by eight different voices talking all at once. And, being in my own space, I know I can retreat to the couch, or to my room in order to re-energize, while knowing others are still being entertained.

And then there are those afternoons where- to my great relief- someone brings out a game, passing on the potential tension to hold conversation to a game that is perhaps a distraction. I suppose my question to myself is, how willing am I to continue hosting Shabbat meals, realizing I will sometimes have to experience the discomfort of extended conversations with guests, when my introverted self would prefer to engage in short conversation, and then retreating to my room for some personal space, and to re-energize? How do I reassure people that they are welcome to come over to our home on Shabbats and to hang out, while balance that with my need for small group settings, and/ or desire for personal space at my leisure?