Category: Women

Rav Avigdor Miller on Parshat Metzora

11/4/2019

As usual, Rav Miller's dvar Torah on Parshat Metzora: The Aristocratic Home (which, as always, could not come about without the efforts & permission of Toras Avigdor) is one long & vividly detailed list of gratitude -- this time, gratitude for the chessed of living in a house.

With vivid descriptions and bring-a-smile-to-your-face wit, Rav Miller brings house-appreciation to life: walls, roofs, indoor plumbing...it's all a wonderful gift!

Yet as always, Rav Miller remains balanced even within his gratitude (which is actually also a part of gratitude).

For example, upon caught in falling snow, Rav Miller's walking companion takes a gratitude-attitude toward the snow by declaring "Snow is like ice cream!"

It is. Add sugar and flavoring, and you've got a ready-made sno-cone.

Rav Miller approves of his companion's comment, yet makes the following observation:

“You are correct, that’s a wonderful idea - but ice cream in your ears is not comfortable.”

We appreciate the snow, but we appreciate umbrellas too! So we’ll stand on this side of the wall and we’ll enjoy the rain and snow and cold. Of course, we enjoy it; but we don’t have to dive into it.

Being caught unprepared in falling snow (especially if it's wet) has its positive aspects because everything Hashem does is for the best.

But we needn't lie to ourselves and pretend that something uncomfortable is comfortable.

And we can use that honest observation for even more gratitude:
Thank God we have a home to go to where we can enjoy the snow in a protected environment!

Home, Sweet Home!

And a shiur on the value of a home isn't complete without emphasizing that the home is the place where we should be on our best behavior, not our worst behavior.

(He presents the Telzer Rav's exemplary behavior at home as an example.)

And here's some practical advice to meet this lofty goal:

And therefore in a Jewish home it is of utmost importance to live up to the idea that we are bnei melachim [children of kings].

Before every move made in the home, they consult in their minds the model supplied by the awareness of their royalty; what they think royalty would do in such a case.

A man and woman in the home should always be thinking: “What are the royal manners and the aristocratic ideals that should reign in the Jewish home?”

Of course, we are all human beings and we can’t imagine that we will succeed in one fell swoop, but we have to always be aware of the perfection we are striving for.

And it is those homes where this is kept in mind always that will never have to be plagued by the warning and lessons of tzara’as.

He elaborates on this concept and how to fulfill this ideal at length, which gives me quite a lot of food for thought.

Raising Children to Love Judaism

But Rav Miller is always a realist.

He knows that the internalization of Jewish values doesn't happen in one go.

Chinuch is about a steady drip-drip-drip of Torah hashkafah against our hearts of stone.

Children don't respond as you'd wish.

But the seed of the idea has been planted.

As Rav Miller describes:

Sit down and talk for a couple of minutes about yomtiv [a Jewish holiday]; tell the children, “Let’s sing the song Atah Bichartanu, or a different niggun.”

And then say, suggest to them, “Kids, aren’t we having a good time, kinderlach?”

And they all chime in, “Yes. Now let’s go to the zoo!”

But that’s excellent - you accomplished your mission! Because those few minutes have laid a foundation.

Rav Miller went out of his way to make Jewish holidays and rituals exciting, not just for his own children, but for his grandchildren and even the neighbors' children.

Rav Miller's dvar Torah gives several examples, but my favorite is adding chocolate to the search for chametz Erev Pesach.

Tefillah: A Woman's True Tafkid

Rav Miller emphasizes the importance of women's prayers:

The home should be a place of tefillah and it is the mother who must present herself as the symbol of prayer, the model of tefilah for the Am Yisroel.

Now, she can’t stand and pray long prayers; she’s busy with a lot of things in the house.

But the mother must be a mother of prayer.

Our mothers always prayed a great deal; a Jewish mother should pray even more than a man prays...A Jewish mother in the home should be turning to Hashem all day long.

The old-time Jewish women had a handbook of prayers - prayers for everything, for every kind of eventuality. She would be praying for help in the home, that her supper should come out tasting delicious. Or for a child who is not well and for a child who is not going exactly on the straight path.

Today too, a mother prays constantly that the washing machine shouldn’t break down, that her husband should earn a livelihood, that he should find favor in the eyes of his boss and get a raise.

So besides the fact that immediately, the first thing in the morning when the children wake up, they hear, “Abba is davening in shul; Abba’s learning.”

The children are always asking, “Did Totty come back from shul yet?”

And the mother tells them, “Totty is in shul talking to Hashem; he’ll be home soon.”

That’s how the Jewish home starts out every day, but besides for that, the mother spends the rest of the day absorbed in speaking to Hashem about everything.

And here's some lost but precious advice:

In the olden days the Jewish mother actually was a symbol of prayer even more than the husband; it’s something that’s forgotten today but that is one of the greatest achievements in a Jewish home.

A Jewish mother should always be praying and the children who grow up with that know that their house is a home where Hashem resides.

The aristocratic Jewish home actually became a Beis Hamikdash.

What is the Worst Thing a Parent or Spouse Can Do?

And here is a key warning:

Complaining is one of the forms of breaking down a home.

Even if there is no quarrel between husband and wife and even if the children are behaving and are loyal, if there is a complaining person in the house – if the mother or father complain frequently – then the morale in the house is broken.

You cannot have a successful home, even a non-Jewish home, if there is complaining.

This really spoke to me because I knew a family that looks wonderful and everyone comments on how aidel and refined the parents are, and the kids all went to respected Yiddish schools that turn out solid chassidish alumni, yet 2 kids seem mostly off-the-derech. The mother is very calm and consistent and lives by emuna.

The parents seem to get along just fine.

Yet one boy goes without his kippah & smokes pot while his sister smokes cigarettes and wears jeans downtown at night.

Everyone was mystified that this couple has 2 children acting out in this manner.

Yet quite by accident, I overheard their father kvetching in such a pathetic whiny way to his wife. His wife tried to respond with pleasant grace, but he insisted on whining and then she just fixed her face into a smile without responding further, except for a pleasant repetition of: "Hmm. Well, I don't know. Mm. I don't know."

I was shocked because what was the father complaining about? An acquaintance had given him a big compliment, a big thank-you and verbal gesture of appreciation and honor. And the father was dissecting it for negativity. "What did he mean by that? But what did he say it like THAT? I mean, was he thinking this-or-this? What was it? But what did he mean exactly? I don't get it."

In addition to verbally pummeling his wife in this manner (she couldn't reassure him enough and the husband irrationally refused to accept her logical and true interpretation of the complimentary words), it's intolerable to live with a person who cannot deal with even the most positive behavior without shredding it apart for negativity.

Such people can suck out any vitality or meaning to life.

Success Needs Planning

This isn't the end of the dvar Torah, but I'll just end the post with a final quote from Rav Miller:

But to be a success, needs planning.

And don’t think it’s not going to repay you.

The happiness, the satisfaction of a successful day in the house is a reward without end.

It’s a reward in this world and it’s a reward forever and ever in Olam Haba.

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Surviving the Extreme Rollercoaster of the Feminine Journey: Knowing What's Normal Helps You Stay in Your Seat as You Zoom Around Upside-Down

26/3/2019

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Like all the other harmful “isms” over the past century, feminism zeroed in on & embellished the negatives in order to foment their social upheaval.

This was easy to do because the traditional women’s sphere of domestic chores provides a mixed experience for women:

highs & lows
great satisfaction & profound dissatisfaction
pride & humiliation
respite & exhaustion

...and so on.

(And a lot was exacerbated by Hollywood, which encouraged the oppression, dumbing-down, and abuse of women. Please see How Hollywood Corrupted America for more.)

A lot about a woman’s traditional roles and even her very biology play out like one very long rollercoaster ride:

The heights of pride & satisfaction in a clean, tidy, tasteful home vs. a descent into humiliation (even when it’s not her fault) & dissatisfaction when the home is grimy, messy, and generally not to her liking (due to illness, weakness, finances, family members, etc).

Mothers can also experience either the heights of nachat or the depths of embarrassment, depending on their children's behavior.

The energetic mother enjoying her children vs. a descent into an exhausted mother who can’t stand crying, whining, and being pulled at for even one more second.

The pretty presentable wife vs. a descent into a wife with dark circles under puffy eyes and spit-up or peanut butter across her navy skirt.

The sturdy, graceful woman vs. the waddling woman heavy with pregnancy.

The calm, focused woman vs. a descent into a woman suffering from hormone-induced depression, irritability, and physical pain.

Sometimes, a woman feels free as a bird, yet other times she is limited or even confined due to her monthly cycle, pregnancy, birth, nursing, or menopause.

There are other heights and descents, but these are just a few examples.

The Sweet Trap of "Salvation"

And despite cheery well-meaning claims to the opposite, you can’t completely avoid the descents.

Yes, intelligent efforts suited to your personal situation plus copious tefillah can both lessen the amount of descents in life, and soften the ones that do occur.

But they aren’t completely avoidable.

What feminism did was target and embellish the low periods of womanhood.

For example, most mothers can experience a real low with housework and childcare, even back in the times when stay-at-home moms were the expected norm.

Lows are a part of any role in life.

Even the most successful professional can be plagued with profound dissatisfaction, boredom, frustration, and exasperation—all the more so, a mother with such a physical, spiritually, and emotionally intense duty that never ends.

So when one infamous feminist branded the average American suburban home of the Sixties a “comfortable concentration camp,” she was preying on the lowest lows of a woman’s rollercoaster ride.

In fact, feminists pathologized both the highs & lows of a normal woman's life.

Feeling content & fulfilled with your domestic life meant you were vapid & repressed while feeling miserable & trapped meant you were oppressed overall and in need of permanent escape and salvation.

Not respite. Not help. Not in need of a tweak to your situation.

But total escape and salvation.

And just like the yetzer hara offers suicide as escape and salvation, feminists offered feminism and women's "liberation."

Elated? Depressed? Normal!

In Laura Ingalls Wilder’s most autobiographical book of the Little House series, The First Four Years, 18-year-old Laura expresses great satisfaction with the little home built by her new husband, Almanzo Wilder.

Yet throughout the book, Laura also expresses negative feelings, even profoundly negative feelings about her domestic duties:

“But the windows must be washed…And how Laura did hate to wash windows!”
Regarding meal preparation: “But it was part of her job and she must do it, though she did hate the smell of hot lard, and the sight of so much fresh meat ruined her appetite for any of it.”
While pregnant: “…feel ill at the sight or smell of food…”
“One day…she was particularly blue and unhappy…”

Yet Almanzo surprised Laura by sending a hired girl to clean the windows instead and Laura enjoyed other kinds of food preparation, even stating that she’d gotten quite good at making light bread.

Furthermore, on the day she was "particularly blue and unhappy" during her second pregnancy, a neighbor stopped by to loan her a set of Sir Walter Scott’s Waverly novels:

“And now the four walls of the close, overheated house opened wide, and Laura wandered…through the enchanting pages of Sir Walter Scott’s novels…”

“When the books were all read and Laura came back to reality, she found herself feeling much better.”

(pgs. 107-108)

The thought of the stories also distracted her from the nausea induced by cooking-smells and she simply cooked faster to get it over with.

But going back to the first trimester of her first pregnancy, Laura felt so sick that initially, her hard-working farmer husband needed to get his own breakfast. (Not so simple when you need to first heat up coal for cooking and make some kind of bread from scratch.)

She fainted whenever she left her bed, yet she forced herself to do so anyway, describing herself as “creeping around the house” and going “so miserably about her work.”

Yet by the second trimester, Laura was feeling better and able to go out and enjoy the buggy rides she and her husband formerly enjoyed. In her third trimester, Almanzo built her a handsled and a harness for their large dog, with which Laura went sleighing up and down a snowy hill for the next month until the moment she went into labor.

At times, her home is “bright and cheerful,” yet at other times that same home grows “to look rather dingy for she couldn’t give it the care she always had” or the house feels "close and hot and she was miserable.”

And in contrast to her grim observation that her family “must be kept warm and fed. The work must go on, and she was the one who must do it,” she describes another phase of constant occupation with “cooking, baking, churning, sweeping, washing, ironing, and mending” as “a busy, happy time.”

Yes, she perceived that time as "happy" even though “The washing and ironing were hard for her to do.”

And also this:

“There was very little visiting for neighbors were far away…and the days were short. Still, Laura was never lonely. She loved her little house and the housework.”

(pg. 44)

This all occurred between the years 1888-1892 on the prairie of South Dakota—not exactly a bastion of feminist thought or women's "liberation."

Likewise, Laura had no manicured Hollywood housewives or magazines ads of smiling women mopping glossy floor in heels forced upon her as the feminine ideal.

Laura felt whatever she felt simply by virtue of her innate nature and situation.

Therefore, sometimes Laura loved her little home and her housework...and sometimes she absolutely couldn't bear it.

And that's exactly how it goes on the rollercoaster of womanhood.

In other words, that's NORMAL.

Welcome to the Old Normal

Laura’s times of dissatisfaction and misery with her domestic responsibilities weren’t a sign of feminism (or a need for overall “liberation”—although sometimes a break or respite was necessary, as shown above).

Nor did those times mean that anything is wrong with wifehood or motherhood.

Likewise, Laura’s times of perfect contentment and pleasure with those exact same responsibilities don’t brand her as a Stepford wife or a submissive brainwashed twit.

This kind of rollercoaster journey throughout a female life is NORMAL.

And it’s really important to know this so that these movements of despair can’t ever get a chokehold on you.

No need for despair or to throw it all away - this is completely normal!

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Peeling Off Esav's Mask of Deception

5/3/2019

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Ever since I learned of it, the concept of Esav as the blueprint for Edom (the Anglo cultures today) has fascinated me.

Essentially, the pig symbolizes Esav/Edom. Though a pig looks kosher on the outside with its cloven hoof, its non-cud-chewing interior establishes the pig as 100% treif.

And as has been written on this blog already, we see this conflicting Edomite duality in dozens of different ways.

Feminist Fascism

The feminist movement portrays itself as the best thing for women, girls — and thus, for the entire world.

Yet modern feminism perpetuated an assault on everything feminine, pressuring women to act like and dress like men.

No, correction.

Feminism pressures women to act like BAD men, not normal men: love-‘em-‘n’-leave-‘em rogues, bullies, cold-hearted snakes, ambitious climbers, power-obsessed magnates, foul-mouthed aggressors, faithless spouses & absent parents — these are what feminist hate about men, yet idealize when expressed in women.

Rebecca Walker suffered as a biracial child with no support from her black mother. Rebecca's father was Jewish, making her identity issues even thornier. Neither parent ever gave her support or empathy. In addition, Rebecca's world-famous feminist mother was just awful throughout Rebecca's childhood.

Then at one point, Rebecca's mother even publicly proclaimed her daughter’s birth to be “a calamity.”

The personal deprivation and then this public condemnation simply for existing understandably devastated Rebecca Walker.

Yet despite her mother’s psychopathic self-absorption (psychopaths think pain is only bad when it happens to them; they're fine when it happens to others), this feminist icon is still held up as a black feminist role model simply because she writes well, with both a novel & a movie based on that novel considered as some of the greatest in literature and film.

Ariel Leve's feminist-writer mother peaked before my time, so I never heard of her until I heard of Ariel.

But in her time, she was hoisted up on the pedestal of super-feminism simply for her poetry and novel-writing skills, then declared by magazines to be one of the most intelligent women and one of the most beautiful women.

Hosting parties in her elegant Manhattan penthouse for other literary elites, she gushed about Ariel being “my daughter, my best friend, my roommate!” while newspapers and magazines admired the way she filled Ariel's room with "books, stuffed toys" and "little poems her mother wrote to make table manners and other chores more palatable.” [People magazine, 1976]

How peachy!

But again, the truth was very different. Ariel recalls coming out of her bedroom in tears as she begged these artistic geniuses to turn down the music as it was a school night and she needed her sleep.

Not only did these literary social critics and social justice warriors ignore the pleas of the exhausted 12-year-old, they even entered her bedroom as an extension of the party and Ariel’s mother also burst in for spur-of-the-moment poetry readings.

A 2016 Guardian article quotes Ariel: “...works of art excused misconduct. Narcissism flourished. Bad behavior was indulged.”

Another prominent feminist friend of her mother offered Ariel a lit cigarette to smoke — when she was five. You’ve come a long way, baby!

Ariel has since described a childhood of physical and emotional abuse, gaslighting, and “games” invented by Sandra that were so bizarre and depraved, I’m flabbergasted how anyone would think up such a thing.

Moira Greyland's story is most disturbing. It's also corroborated by her brother, Patrick.

Though I was never a fantasy reader (except for Harry Potter and the Oz series, of course), I always saw their mother's name scrawled prominently across her novels in the promotional displays in every book store, in addition to seeing her books in many homes.

One of her fantasy series has remained a best-seller for decades and she created a popular fantasy magazine that gave many successful fantasy writers their start.

She was particularly encouraging of female writers in this formerly male-dominated genre.

She was also a feminist icon, plus attracted to her own gender to boot. Oddly, she married a man attracted to his own gender too.

Yet despite how outstanding she looked on paper, hints to her hidden monstrousness leaked out.

People who dealt with her personally sometimes found themselves on the receiving end of a verbal onslaught — including fans & novice writers who approached her at writing conventions.

Some readers found disturbingly sick elements in her oh-so popular series. "What kind of person would write something like that?" they wondered.

Finally, Moira worked up the courage to speak out. She also called the police on her father, whom she caught abusing another child.

Nauseatingly, both of Moira's parents also preyed on children.

And I won’t go any further than that, but their daughter has a truly heartbreaking story to tell of her upbringing (which included being trafficked by her own mother to other deplorables and a murder attempt by her mother).

Raised by utterly depraved soulless parents, Moira managed to escape her torment and is today a conservative Christian opera singer and harpist who is married and seems happy, though she says she struggles daily with PTSD.

Based on her experiences and those of others raised by depraved parents, Moira speaks out against the social push for toeva couples to raise children, occultism and paganism, and other immorality.

Many people do not know the real persona of their feminist icons, but even those who do often sputter incoherently about “the need to separate the artist from her art.”

Needless to say, despite the #metoo movement and society’s calls for justice and protecting children and exposing abusers, no one wants to hear what Rebecca Walker has to say and Moira Greyland has also met with resistance (despite court testimony and other evidence as corroboration). Ariel Leve's mother is no longer popular or iconic, so her exposé has found quite a charitable reception.

“Works of art excused misconduct.”

Couldn’t have said it better.

Note: What's chilling about the soullessness of literary superstars is that they have had and continue to have such a profound influence on culture and mentality.

Yes, the way we think is also shaped by movies & TV (some of which are based on these books).

But who can remain unaffected by the insidious influence permeating all the compelling articles & books written by volatile depraved narcissists who wish to both validate & promote their own depravity & self-indulgence?

Amish Angst

Who doesn’t adore the Amish?

Wholesome and appealing as shoofly pie and homemade ice cream, the Amish represent the nostalgic America of the 19th Century.

One of my favorite non-fiction books is written by a midwife who worked extensively with the Amish in Pennsylvania. Published in 1983, A Midwife's Story presents a compelling portrayal of her Amish neighbors and clients.

She presents the good and the bad, but she mostly views the Amish in a positive light.

Sure, I did wonder about the seemingly high rate of mentally disabling rare genetic diseases mentioned in the book (“Of the thirty-six children on the roll call, three quarters were named Stoltzfus” was my first clue as to why) and I also wondered why they went off the derech at such a high rate if Amish life was so heavenly. (Over 20% of Amish were leaving the fold at the time of the book’s writing.)

Over time, more ex-Amish started speaking up. For example, what the book described as “Amish women dearly loved news of others families” is described as oppressive gossiping and tale-bearing by those who’ve left.

The Amish tradition of Rumspringa (“running around”) kicks in at the age of sixteen and allows Amish youth to experience non-Amish life to enable them the free choice to decide whether to get baptized and join their church.

In 1983, Rumspringa consisted of Amish teens getting together in gangs with names like “Antiques” and “Luckies” and singing in somebody’s barn.

Girls wore a decorative stitch on the cuffs of their sleeves and the boys “might wear wristwatches, drink beer and — in extreme and serious cases — find musicians with plug-in guitars.”

Some Amish boys even managed to buy cars, which they kept in neighboring non-Amish towns.

Yet today’s Amish Rumspringa often consists of girls in heavy makeup and jeans with boys in rapper clothing and all of them completely inebriated and holding smartphones.

(Also, as a frum Jew, it surprised me to read of the total lack of shomer negiah in what looks like a very religious community.)

And despite the portrayal of the Amish has close to nature and respectful of animals, reports show the Amish working their animals to death and perpetuating puppy mills in miserable conditions.

Despite the impression of deep faith, many Amish orders discourage their constituents from studying the Bible (a superficial reading is okay, but actually studying it is not—although many orders also forbid reading an English translation at all and instead permit only Martin Luther’s 400-year-old High German translation, which lacks accuracy and is not understood by most Amish, who speak Pennsylvania Dutch).

The Amish belief system also discourages a personal relationship with God. The church elders tell them what God wants from them and for them.

Those who know the Amish report that suicide is double that of the general American rate, but the suicides are often reported as accidents — even when a suicide note is left behind.

Needless to say, not all Amish run amok during Rumspringa nor do they all abuse animals or suffer depression or abuse each other.

And even the ex-Amish express fondness over certain aspects of their Amish upbringing.

However, abuse runs rampant in Amish families and churches.

And when the former Amish leave and look for the support and validation so enthusiastically promoted in the secular world, they face rejection.

Accused of being “bitter” and their testimonies nitpicked for inconsistencies, the ex-Amish quickly learn that most people don’t want to hear the truth about a culture idealized in the American mind as gentle, charmingly quaint, and enviously wholesome.

This resistance even extends to the police, social services, shelters, and American justice system, making it even harder for Amish victims to get help and put Amish perps where they belong (in prison).

Handmade furniture, organic food, sweet bonnets, and gentle religiosity…please don’t wake us up from our Amish fantasy!

Note: It’s interesting that frum Jews are castigated for exactly what the Amish are romanticized: being ruled by their religious leaders, cleaving to traditions, rejecting the modern world, rejecting aspects of technology, wary of secular education (Amish schooling only lasts until 8th grade) and isolating their communities from outsiders.

That's all totally awesome when you're Amish, but inexcusable if you're Jewish?

Hmm...

The Secret Darkness of Facebook

The more layers you peel away from Facebook, the worse it gets.

Most people know that there are human moderators behind Facebook’s moderation policies.

What most people don’t know is that these human moderators must look at some truly disturbing stuff in order to block it.

Hour by hour & day by day, they read posts full of hatred and venom, along with watching murders and other horrors.

Not surprisingly, these moderators have a high turnover rate. Most people can’t last long in the job and those who leave often suffer severe PTSD afterwards.

Those who stick it out find themselves negatively influenced by their viewing material.

Some moderators have become Holocaust-deniers while racist “humor” becomes popular at work. Some moderators smoke marijuana on their breaks (it’s legal in Arizona now) and then moderate the posts while stoned.

For reasons I wasn’t able to understand, many current moderators fear their ex-colleagues, claiming that these former moderators could return and harm or even kill the current moderators. Why? I'm really not sure. But one moderator even carries a gun to work to protect himself from this possibility.

Facebook offers little support or counseling to protect their moderators’ mental health. (Although I’m not sure how any kind of counseling can help a person who consistently watches someone screaming as they are murdered on a video uploaded by a drug cartel.)

Moderators receive low salaries with few perks. There’s also a definite “Big Brother” environment, with their every move tracked and moderators asked not to use the bathroom (outside of designated bathroom breaks) or pray on their breaks.

It's not so social, this social media, is it?

No Such Thing as a Kosher Pig

So there you have it.

"I'm sooooo kosher," says the pig. "I mean, FABULOUSLY kosher. Just look at my perfectly split hoof! And I've got lots of meat at a great price! What do you need beef or lamb for?"

But inside? Treif, treif, treif. (Not to mention all the garbage they eat.)

"Be connected. Be discovered. Be on Facebook."

Be traumatized. Be suicidal. Become a psychopath!

*

And a lifestyle romanticized as pure, wholesome, innocent, gentle, and healthy actually isn't.

And that which promised females rights & freedoms has done more to violate, abuse, and even kill females.

Oink, oink.

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Who is the "Intelligent Woman" described in Pele Yoetz?

24/2/2019

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In Rav Eliezer Papo’s masterpiece, Pele Yoetz, a chapter called Love between a Man & a Woman discusses different kinds of spouses and how to deal with them.

Toward the beginning of this chapter, Rav Papo mentions the ishah maskelet– the intelligent wife. At that point, he starts waxing lyrical about the great fortune of he who marries an ishah maskelet:

“…he who has an ishah maskelet from Hashem and has found a good wife because a thread of loving-kindness has certainly been draped over her and she is cherished by her husband.”

Because Rav Papo could have used the term ishah chachamah – a wise wife (as is common in Chazal), it seemed that an ishah maskelet is educated in addition to being wise.

And because Rav Papo spoke with such certainty of the pricelessness of an ishah maskelet and the profound love she engenders within her husband, it seemed like Rav Papo also spoke from personal experience.

Then Hashem led me to a great shiur by Rabbi Noach Isaac Oelbaum (Pele Yoetz: Part 5 - Fundamental Guidelines for Chinuch) in which he confirms that Rabbanit Papo was indeed an ishah maskelet who was treasured by both her husband and children – as described within the introduction to the book Chessed L'Elefim.

Chessed L’Elefim was also written by Rav Papo (I didn’t know that!) and its introduction was written by Rav Papo’s son, wherein he states the following:

“ …a good woman full of daat and yirat Hashem [fear of God], famous for chassidut [piety], she was perfect in all the good character traits and honest behaviors, and her hatmadah [diligence] in the reading of sifrei mussar [ethics books] in a non-Hebrew language, and she and my master, my father the rav, spoke together in yirat Hashem all day long. And he merited an assistant who was a helpmate to him and facilitated everything connected to holiness, a man and a woman who both merited as one to be good and bonded to holiness and purity and pure yirat Hashem – and they did not benefit at all from This World."

So there’s the ishah maskelet for ya, and now we know why Rav Papo was so excited on behalf of a man who managed to find an ishah maskelet. (And this also helps me understand even more why Rav Papo was so strongly in favor of female literacy - look at what his wife did with her ability to read!)

Note: If anyone is intimidated by the generous amount of yeshivish English at the beginning of Rabbi Oelbaum's shiur, please know that the rabbi switches to more standard English after the first 15 minutes. It’s a great shiur given over with great energy and Rabbi Oelbaum has already covered quite a few chapters of the Pele Yoetz, for anyone who’s interested in learning the Pele Yoetz via these classes.

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My Challah-Making Challenge: Aim for Halacha & Enjoyment, Not "Perfection"

20/2/2019

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I always wanted to be one of those women who make challahs every week for Shabbat, but it always seemed like a huge investment of time and fiddling.

Furthermore, like a lot of other people, I wanted wholewheat challahs with an airy texture. So getting that wholewheat pastry flour (70-80% wholewheat flour), then doing all the tips and tricks of more than one rising time and rolling out then rolling up each strand before braiding it (for an airier dough) and so on.

And whether for wholewheat or white, other challah-makers gave recommendations like kneading in big upward swoops for an airier dough, kneading on your knees on the floor, kneading by hand for 20 minutes, and so on.

These are all good ideas, by the way.

But because of all that, I often felt too overwhelmed to make challah on a regular basis.

Then a healthy-food friend of mine (who kneads on her knees and who makes a delicious moist wholewheat peach cake for Shabbat) revealed that she prepared white-flour challahs.

In response to the shocked look on my face, she smiled and said simply, "That's the tradition. Jews always tried to eat white-flour challahs for Shabbat."

And it's true. While nowadays wholewheat flour is more expensive, that's a recent reversal.

So that broke through my "I must make wholewheat challahs - and somehow get them as airy and yummy as white-flour challahs!" mindblock.

Then one of my family members bought self-rising white flour (kemach shemarim) when there was no other flour (that didn't need sifting) available.

I'd never used self-rising flour, but there was a recipe for challahs on its shiny plastic sack, so I decided to give it a shot - with the amount of sugar exchanged for honey and decreased for Sefardi halachic requirements. (If bread is too sweet, it automatically becomes mezonot rather than hamotzi for Sefardim.)

My family loves this challah.

It makes delicious, nice-colored challahs. It smells really good. I'm still not so great at braiding it, but oh well. Even making an array of balls in a circle or loaf pan (so you get that "bumpy" challah with automatic buns, if you know what I mean) is a challenge because it's hard to get the balls all the same size.

But for me, taste, texture, and smell are the main priorities.

Also, using this flour and recipe makes the whole process so much easier, faster, and worry-free. (Meaning, no more consternation that something's up with the yeast & the dough doesn't rise properly, using too little or too much yeast, "oops just ran out of yeast!", etc.)

So now I've got my little shiny orange sack of Osem's kemach shemarim every week (and I keep another sack of the same to add another cup to it so I'll have the minimal amount for making the challah-tithing blessing).

And by using this kind of short-cut, I can make challahs most weeks, say the bracha, daven for people, and so on.

And I'm happy doing this.

Also, one of my sons stops in to pick up a couple of rolls set aside just for him before going back to yeshivah (which forces me to get an early start on the challahs which is a good thing for a discipline-resistant person like myself), and doing this for him makes me feel like a deliciously old-fashioned & dedicated Yiddishe mama throwback to the shtetlach of yore.

I mean, it makes me feel like that for a few minutes, anyway.

But if life shifts (and it always does), I'll give making challahs the old-fashioned way or wholewheat challahs a try again.

But right now, I just can't do the whole yeasting-kneading-rolling thing at this point in my life.

And that's fine!

And if life shifts another way (as it always does) so that I can't make challahs at all and we need to go back to store-bought, then that's also fine!

It's like what we were talking about in a previous post (How to Do Chessed Right? Play Your Strengths!):
You do whatever mitzvot you can in whatever way you can.

And if you can't, so you can't.

(Hashem is the reason you can or can't, so no need for self-flagellation or other forms of self-recrimination - and no need for nose-in-the-air pridefulness either...just pleasure & joy!)

This is along the lines of Leah's comment in the above-mentioned previous post: You want to aim for fulfilling mitzvot according to halacha & the enjoyment of all concerned (including yourself).

And you don't worry if you're doing something in the "socially mandated" or "right" way, you just aim for doing it in the halachic way.

And there you go.

Bloom where you are planted.

4 Comments

The True Story of an Undercover Angel

12/2/2019

8 Comments

Like other only-in-Israel stories, I met a spectacular yet undercover baalat chessed on the city bus over 20 years ago.

(A ba'alat or ba'al chessed is a person who excels at acts of loving-kindness, compassion, and generosity.)

Let’s call this baalat chessed Malka.

Elegance with Chessed & Simple Living

Born & raised in Morocco, Malka made aliyah with her parents & siblings when she was 15 and was approaching her seventh decade of life when I met her. She sported a very modest short shaitel of honeyed brown with tasteful waves of blondish streaks. Her feminine suit of dark beige, light beige, and dusty rose was paired with dark beige pumps. She powdered her face and wore a lovely shade of rose lipstick.

Slightly stooped with age, she swayed elegantly on her Queen Anne heels as she made her way through the streets.

Neither of us knew she would end up shattering a bunch of my assumptions – one of which was that a big baalat chessed flits around at lightning speed in order to accomplish her many acts of kindness.

Not Malka. Always graceful and refined, Malka accomplished so much while never moving faster than a swan floating over a calm lake.

Her children then married with families of their own, Malka lived with her white-bearded husband in a cramped apartment in the city. It was as clean as you could make an old run-down place, with crocheted or embroidered doilies draped all over dark furniture.

Across one wall of the living room, a line of tall bookcases displayed photo albums and mammoth folders.

The albums not only held photos of her family, but photos of weddings she hosted in her small backyard.

That was my first surprise with Malka.

Matchmaker, Couples Counselor, Caterer...

The couples, many of whom were young Russian immigrants alone in Eretz Yisrael, could not afford a wedding. So Malka hosted the chuppah in her own yard.

Malka also provided the food.

She hosted a wedding anywhere from once a week to every couple of months, depending. Noting her age and her slow rhythm, I asked her how she managed to cater the weddings (from her rundown narrow kitchen).

“They aren’t big weddings,” she explained languidly. “Just the friends and whatever family is here.”

Yes, except that Malka wasn’t doing simple foods – meat-stuffed zucchinis, for example, take time and skill.

“When neighbors stop by,” she said, “they see what I’m doing and offer to help. Sometimes, I ask them if they wouldn’t mind helping me in the kitchen while we chat.”

“It doesn’t bother them?” I asked.

“No,” she said, her eyes widening slightly over her smile, “they’re happy to help.”

She also specialized in re-marrying divorced couples and took extra satisfaction in that. She described how she introduced them to mitzvah observance and gave them in her own brand of pre-marital counseling (though she didn’t call it that), explaining that there usually weren’t very serious problems, but that these couples divorced because they didn’t know what else to do.

They were decent people who simply didn’t know how to get along.

She also felt that a lack of Torah values was a serious problem in the marriage and that by getting couples to observe halacha and proper Jewish hashkafah, they could end up with a successful marriage.

“See this?” she said tapping long her rose-manicured fingernail on one kallah’s very low neckline. (The kallah’s face was covered in a veil so I couldn’t see her.) “I was concerned about this under the chuppah – especially with Rav Mordechai Eliyahu officiating.”

I frowned. Though still new to the frum scene in Eretz Yisrael, I’d already heard of Rav Mordechai Eliyahu and couldn’t imagine that such a big and important tzaddik was being mesader kiddushin for some impoverished barely-frum couple in someone’s untended backyard.

I still wonder if my memory is playing tricks on me. But I have clear memories of her referencing the rav several times in conversation and also seeing photos with him in front of the couple with his eyes glued to the page in front of him as he went through the Kiddushin.

Anyway…she continued, “But the rav said that I shouldn’t say one word!”

She made a stern face and slashed her finger through the air in recollection of his firmness about the issue.

“He reassured me that he would just keep his eyes down so not to see anything he shouldn’t and that I should continue to be mekarev them. Eventually, he said, the kallah would realize on her own.” Her eyes widened and her eyebrows arched as she looked at me. “And you know what? That’s exactly what happened! This kallah” – she tapped the low neckline again – “this kallah now wears her neckline up to here” – Malka indicated just under her chin – “and she covers her hair too. Just like the rav said would happen. So I never tell them anything. Patience. That’s what people need. Just be patient and keep working with them and they’ll get there on their own.”

In addition to making shiddichum, and hosting and catering weddings, Malka also provided these couples with furniture and a couple months of rent.

And not just for these couples either.

A One-Woman Gemach

Malka opened one of the mammoth folders to show them bursting with thank-you notes. Page after page from grateful recipients and social workers:

Thank you so much, Malka, for the 200 shekels! It really helped us out in a pinch.

Thank you, Malka, for providing the family with much-needed beds. (from a social worker)

Malka, thank you SO MUCH for the cart full of groceries! You literally saved us!

Money, groceries, beds – page after page showed that those were the items Malka provided most.

I scanned the shelves full of thick folders exactly like the one on my lap.

“Where do you get all that money to give all this to people?” I asked.

She gave a ladylike laugh and an elegant shrug. “Oh…just here and there…”

I never did find out how she was able to finance all this.

The Hidden Underground of Jerusalem

I found myself fascinated with her.

This dainty, elegant petite Moroccan lady with her Queen Anne heels and her unhurried pace and serene smile – tending to the emotional, spiritual, and financial needs of people who were desperate, lost, broken, living in miserable circumstances, or just needed a hand.

I shadowed her when I could, spending a couple of Shabbats with her and accompanying her on her rounds.

One time, she took me around to different hovels.

I had no idea there was this whole underground in Jerusalem. Old Arab hovels made of stones – and no plaster or paint on the inside either. Just an old stone edifice. They’re easy to miss because to access them, you need to turn off the sidewalk into a grassy, pebbly area until you reach a flight of stairs leading down to the door of the hovel.

From ground level, you just see the roof, which looks like a pile of stones or an abandoned hovel (which it is).

But one flight down into the ground stands the door.

Equipped with a basket of tea, food, and a thermos of hot water, we stood at one door as Malka knocked.

No answer.

But she kept knocking until Malka decided to open the door a crack and peeked in, telling the person who she was and that she’d brought a friend. I was scandalized by this breach of etiquette. What was Malka doing? She gestured for me to come in with her and whispered reassurance that this was definitely okay.

So I hesitantly followed her in.

I just remember slate gray stone all around when we entered into what seemed like a very narrow kitchen. The kitchen opened up into a narrow room with a bed upon which lay a person with an arm over the face.

Malka spoke in a quiet neighborly way as the person tried to sit up, then fell back again, then sat up again. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman. The person had extremely cropped salt ‘n’ pepper hair and wore a T-shirt and sweat pants over a pudgy non-descript body. The voice could also belong to a high-pitched man or a low-pitched woman.

I tried to catch the person’s name when Malka made introductions, but it was also something ambiguous like “Yonah.”

Inwardly, I grimaced with discomfort.

Because Hebrew pronouns and verbs are either masculine or feminine with no gender-neutral form, I couldn’t say a word to this person for fear of getting the gender wrong and causing offense.

Malka seemed perfectly at home and offered tea, to which the person replied there was no electricity. With a smile, Malka held up the thermos and proceeded to make tea for all of us.

The person seemed very grateful for Malka’s visit and the tea, and as I strained to hear how Malka addressed the person, I realized it was a woman. A very butch-looking woman.

Having roused herself to sit up in the bed chair, she invited Malka to sit down and graciously invited me to take a seat in the only chair. Malka perched herself on end of the mattress.

Then Malka started chatting and the woman brightened up. She mentioned that she wasn’t well and Malka responded with sympathy. But our “hostess” included me in the conversation too and I wondered at the transformation from impoverished homeless neglected nebbuch to a hostess with guests and dignity.

Here we were, three ladies taking tea and making polite conversation – in an abandoned underground hovel with no electricity or indoor plumbing.

Removing My Rose-Colored Glasses

As a side note, when my husband found out I was accompanying Malka to these places during our first year of marriage, his eyes widened in horror and he started shaking. Growing up in one of Israel’s poor delinquent immigrant neighborhoods, he was bit more familiar with these types.

“These people are drug addicts!” he said. “How can you go to their homes? That’s so dangerous!”

That had never occurred to me. “I didn’t see any sign of drugs,” I protested.

“Well, their children then,” said my husband. “Even if those people are okay, their children could just show up.” He got shaky again.

Then he explained that in Israel, it was very odd to have an older person abandoned to living in a primitive hovel. There are family, friends, social services, and the like. Why can’t the person avail herself of these resources?

“Because they don’t have them,” said my husband. “Either their children want nothing to do with them after all they put them through or their children are addicts and criminals who don’t care about their parents – and if so, why did those children turn out so badly? Who let’s their mother or father live in such conditions?”

And regarding social services and health funds, etc., my husband pointed out that there must be a reason why these people to don't use these services. Maybe they want to stay under the radar? Maybe they have unsavory reasons?

Ohhhh….

(And now Malka’s confidence at entering uninvited made sense. The person indeed wanted her company and her goodies, but wasn’t able to rouse herself to respond.)

Yet everyone was so lovely and sympathetic as seen through Malka’s eyes!

Yet I had to admit that my husband’s points made a lot of sense.

Also, growing up in secular America, it’s perfectly natural to find older people neglected and ignored by their offspring, so I didn’t think anything of it.

While there are many dedicated adult offspring in the US, I’d noticed the vehemence with which many adult children wanted to rush their aging parents into a home. Yeah, of course it’s often necessary, but these adult children do so without much sympathy or compassion for what their aging parent is facing. And once shut away, some people rarely talk to or visit their parents.

Too many adult children seem all too ready to pull the plug on aging parents in hospitals under the faux compassion of not “wanting them to suffer.” And after the funeral, your sympathy is met with a blithe, “Well, it was just her time to go!” or a cheery “Well, she’d been deteriorating anyway, so it was better this way!” – with cheerful music blasting in the background.

So I didn’t realize that abandoned parents might be the sign of serious dysfunction in the parent or criminal activity on the part of the children.

The Secret to Real Chessed: Humility

It fascinated me how a classy lady like Malka put on no airs when she was with these people. They felt totally comfortable with her. Also, there was something about the way she related to them that gave them back their self-respect and human dignity.

But she didn’t view herself as better than these people, just luckier. And I think that’s the secret to being a truly humble baal chessed. It has to come from inside, that you don’t approach such people as a queen lowering herself to extend largess to the needy.

I’ve noticed that other baalei chessed are the same; they feel lucky not superior. They just feel like they could be in the same place as these people, except they were given better lives.

Yet how had Malka found these people?

She just noticed, she said. She’d see these hovels and go to investigate. Or people noticed and told her.

Nurturing Runaway Girls

As I got to know Malka, it became obvious the she was the address people turned to when they discovered deprivation of some sort. And not just regular people, but social workers and cops also turned to Malka.

In fact, several decades earlier when she was raising teenagers herself, she got calls from the police in the middle of the night:

“We found this Jewish girl wandering around the Muslim Quarter and she refuses to give her name or say where she lives. She doesn’t want to go home. Can we bring her to you?”

Malka always said yes.

(If a teenage Jewish girl in Israel prefers being among Arabs in the middle of the night, then her home is BAD.)

Malka and her family lived in a larger home back then and she set up chairs and sofas in an alcove off the main living area. When the cops dropped the girl off, Malka led her to the alcove, where the girl would huddle up with her head down and not speak or eat.

Fortunately (yet unfortunately), she wouldn’t be the only girl there.

Malka explained how she just let them sit there until they realized there were other girls around them in the same position. Slowly, they started talking to each other:

“Do you live here?”

“No. I was brought here by the police.”

“What? You were? So was I!”

“Really? What were you doing?”

“I was wandering around the streets in the middle of the night because I didn’t want to go home and I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Really? Me too.”

“Really? You too? I thought I was the only one who felt that way. Why didn’t you want to go home?”

And hesitantly, they started talking about what was going on at home.

“Really? That happened to you too? I thought it was just me!”

These girls teetered between their silent huddled positions and raising their heads to lean forward and whisper with their fellow traumatized girls.

After 3 or 4 days of this, they were able uncurl themselves and come out of their lethargy, at which point Malka could approach them.

Malka nurtured them into becoming frum. She taught them how to run a home by allowing them to become full participants in running her home. They stayed for 2-4 years, depending. Eventually, she found them shidduchim and married them off.

“How did you find husbands for them?” I wanted to know.

“They needed sensitive boys, of course,” Malka answered. “Understanding boys. But boys from a background like theirs, boys who also hadn’t grown up frum, but became religious later. So that’s who I found for them.”

“And these boys didn’t mind marrying girls from such a dysfunctional background?” I said, still perplexed because this flew in the face of what American society said and stereotypes about frum people.

Now Malka looked as stern as she was able. “It’s not the girls’ fault,” she stated. “These are very nice girls! It’s not their fault how their fathers were.”

“Of course it’s not their fault!” I rushed to defend myself against the misunderstanding. “And I’m really glad for them that they landed in your home and that you did so much for them.”

But then I needed to know if they became functional mothers and wives.

“Yes,” said Malka, cocking her head to one side and looking totally mystified by the question. “Why not?”

And she emphasized again how these were very good girls who just needed a leg up, girls who wanted to cultivate warm homes and loving families of their own. And were just fine once they were given the skills to do so.

“How many girls did you do this for?” I asked.

“Oh, I don’t remember exactly…” she said. “Ten? Twelve?”

“You had ten or twelve traumatized teenage girls living in your home?” I said.

“Well, not all at one time,” she said. “It was spread out over the years.”

“Okay, but still!” I said. “How did you do that?”

Her eyes widened at the question, then her face her lovely smile expanded over her face. “We had a large home,” she said.

“Okay…” I said.

But as we all know, a large home is not enough to explain chessed on this level.

You need so much patience, empathy, insight, and wisdom to nurture profoundly traumatized teenagers back into good emotional health.

So I kept probing to discover where she had the emotional and mental resources to do all this for so many girls for so many years, but she honestly did not understand my mystification.

So she just kept repeating the following:

“Well,” she said, “our sons didn’t live at home, so that wasn’t a problem. We sent them to learn in yeshivah abroad to avoid the draft…”

“They were basically good girls who just needed a good home and some nurturing.”

“It’s easy to understand them after all they suffered. I never judged them.”

“Hayah lanu bayit gadol – We had a large home.”

And her husband was okay with everything. Heck, he financed the whole thing!

The Making of a Baalat Chessed

Anyway, I finally came to the conclusion that she saw dysfunctional people not as dysfunctional, but as basically decent people who are down on their luck. They encountered difficult circumstances and some made mistakes (if you can call lifelong drug addiction a “mistake”), but that can all be remedied with a lot of time, patience, and gentle guidance.

And even if it can’t be remedied – like maybe the androgynous woman living in a hovel will never get her act together – it’s still important to be kind and compassionate.

Also, Malka wasn’t just empathetic, she was an empath.

She intuited what people needed, even people who were very different than herself. And while I think empathy can be cultivated, I also think that her special depth of perception is a gift. And she used it well!

Throughout all this, I imagined that Malka grew up with a very special mother. But when I asked her about her parents, she immediately denied that her mother was the source of influence and described their family life back in Morocco:

“My mother sat all day on silk cushions eating bon-bons,” she said. “Merchants came to the home to display different fabrics from which she could choose to have yet another dress made.”

Then her face lit up as she said, “But my father…! My father was a wealthy man who kept two boxes by the back door. One was full of clothes and the other was full of money. We weren’t ever allowed to answer that door. When someone knocked, my father hurried to answer it. He opened it a crack and asked what the person needed. If they said clothes, he sank his arms into the box of clothes and heaved out a pile of clothes while closing his eyes tight and he thrust his armful of clothes through the slightly open door to give the person the clothes. If they needed money, he sank his arms into the box of money and passed handfuls of money through the opening. If they still needed more, then he gave them more.”

She paused. “He never saw to whom he was giving. He never knew who received the money and clothes.”

In this way, her father kept the dignity and privacy of the recipient, as per the laws of tzedakah.

Malka’s face glowed as she spoke of her father’s chessed.

When they came to Israel, Malka was fifteen and ended up being the oldest of 10 children. In severely reduced circumstances, her father did what he could to keep his wife as close as possible to the lifestyle to which she was accustomed. He toiled at more than one job, including that of a streetsweeper.

Malka balked at her respectable formerly successful father sweeping the streets. She even voiced her objection to him working so hard and at such menial jobs – only to keep her mother in the role of pampered princess.

“I prefer sweeping the streets of Yerushalayim to being a businessman in chutz l’Aretz,” he declared. Then he explained to Malka that he felt it was his duty to care for his wife in this way, explaining that the reduction in circumstances was a lot to ask of her.

“But you’ve made the adjustment!” Malka protested.

Yes, her father said. But he felt he was man enough to take it.

I think that also, without the servants they’d had in Morocco, a lot of the housework and childcare fell on Malka. Plus, if I remember correctly, the indulging of the mother came at some expense to the other family members.

Achieving Spiritual Perfection in an Imperfect Life

At seventeen, they married off Malka to a local Moroccan boy who’d fought in the Irgun and learned chevruta with another teenage boy who later became one of the Sefardi gedolei hador.

There weren’t many committed religious boys to choose from at that time and he seemed a good prospect. And indeed, Malka’s husband remained committed to Torah and mitzvot and raised their sons to become yeshivah bachurs, which was an impressive feat in those times. (Apparently, sending them to yeshivah abroad was indeed the saving of them.)

But he was never Malka’s equal in middot or wisdom and he never achieved much in Torah. When I knew him as an older man with a white beard, he clearly wasn’t a knowledgeable Jew either.

(If you’re wondering how that can be when he originally learned chevruta with a budding gadol hador, I can tell you that a more skilled partner can carry the chevruta. Meaning, one partner is doing most of the learning and explaining while the other listens – but doesn’t necessarily retain.)

And that was another remarkable thing about Malka: She went through life with a partner who was not close to her level and didn’t have much to give her spiritually, as ideally there should be within a Jewish marriage. But certainly, he deserves credit for financing Malka’s chessed activities and for hosting a dozen runaways in his home over the years.

Focusing on Spiritual Beauty

Needless to say, getting to know Malka had a tremendous impact on me. I’d like to discuss more about what I learned from her in a future post.

Also, there are more stories to tell. But this is enough for now.

But for now, I just wanted to share with you the knowledge of a real baalat chessed. There’s so much negative stuff in the world and the corrupted baddies always make it to the front page of the news, but it’s so important to look at the people who ARE doing things right.

People who sincerely internalize Torah values tend to operate under the radar, but really, we need to shine some light on their deeds to give us chizuk and hope, and to remind ourselves of the true exaltedness of a neshamah in action.

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New Equality? Or Women Just Doing What They've Always Done?

31/1/2019

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Today’s modern world insists on evening out traditionally male-dominated fields.

In some fields, like left-brained fields of technology and engineering, you’ll never see true equality just like you’ll never see a 50-50 ratio of male-to-female nannies or newborn nurses. (Although if you do see such tidy ratios, you’d better head out to another, saner society because enforced equality means lower quality.)

But women are not only saturating but excelling in other traditionally male-dominated fields.

Why is that?

Nature Still has the Edge over Nurture

While Leftists pundits will yap about social conditioning and constructs, the truth is that some traditionally male-dominated fields are actually quite conducive for feminine strengths and women didn't need much in encouragement to enter those fields in droves.

Such fields appeared male-dominated simply because women either lacked the opportunity (not necessarily because of society, but because of old-fashioned labor-intensive domestic duties) or they DID work in those fields, but not in an official capacity.

So what’s the difference between a traditionally male-dominated field that is actually conducive for a woman’s strengths and a traditionally male-dominated field less conducive?

Let’s take the example of medicine.

Female Doctors vs Male Doctors

The official profession and title of a doctor was predominantly male for centuries.

Yet the actual practice of medicine was carried out by both men and women – they just didn’t call the women “doctor.”

For example colonial American midwife Martha Ballard was the most highly regarded midwife in her area, but she did much more than deliver babies. She treated serious diseases and also lanced abscesses. She had a working relationship with one of the top doctors in that area, and it’s clear from her diary that the relationship included mutual trust and respect for each other’s medical skills. The doctor was perfectly content for Martha to treat his own ill family members in his absence and she felt the same toward him.

Furthermore, when local doctors happened on the opportunity to perform an autopsy, these male doctors invited Martha to attend – just as they would any professional colleague.

And yes, they thought to invite her. She didn’t hint or put herself forward in any way to attend. They sought her out simply based on her obvious qualifications and skill as a medical professional.

So women entering the medical profession is actually a natural continuation of a role women have filled since time immemorial.

And studies indicate that women make better doctors than men. They seem to make fewer mistakes and so on. (Please see: JAMA Journal.)

Of course, we’ve all encountered bad female doctors. I had one at my last birth. She did the actual medical procedure fine, but her bedside manner was heartless and hideous. Better she should cake plaster over her mouth and just get to work doing what she was trained to do.

And this also is not to say that men don’t make good doctors.

There are many fine male doctors. But certain aspects of the female personality are more conducive to good doctoring. And you may call me a female chauvinist, but I personally prefer female gynecologists and obstetricians to male ones - and not just for reasons of tsnius. And I REALLY prefer female pediatricians to male ones, especially those female doctors who are mothers themselves. All things considered, women tend to be better pediatricians overall than men.

I don’t mean any offense to all the excellent male ob/gyns and pediatricians out there, but my personal experience shows that females are just better all-around in these particular fields.

In other words, what these areas of medicine demand tend to be fulfilled much better by a female doctor than a male one.

Men tend to excel in other areas of medicine.

No offense!

Nothing REALLY New under the Sun

Business is another field in which women have always participated, whether on her own or, more commonly, with male family members.

As explained in a previous post, even the classic Eishet Chayil of Mishlei/Proverbs clearly discusses a woman who invests in real estate and field production – and does so with great success.

So, all things considered, it’s no surprise that women make up half of medical students in America and surpass men in other fields:

60% of pediatricians are women
51% of ob/gyns are women
60% of dermatology trainees are women
63% of those enrolled in journalism or mass communication are women

NOTE: Female enrollment in medical school occurred without affirmative action.

Another field considered female-dominated today, but was historically the realm of males, is teaching – particularly teachers of elementary school students.

For millennia, any official teaching was performed by a male.

Yet by 1850, the majority of school teachers in America were female.

And again, like with the above professions, women were drawn toward teaching because it plays feminine strengths and is something women have done throughout history in unofficial capacity.

Free to be You & Me

So in any field you find a majority of women, you’ll see it’s a field that:

A) draws on female strengths
B) was something that women have traditionally done anyway, albeit not necessarily in official or professional capacity

And so the problem with society today is that it seeks to enforce equal representation in all areas – including areas to which women aren't innately drawn and tend not to display innate aptitude.

So society attempts to enforce "equal" representation unequally because it only seeks to increase the ratio of women in male-dominated areas rather than also increase the ratio of men in female-dominated areas. (At least they aren't trying to enforce even ratios in female-dominated fields too.) It's all a disaster in the making.

But really, people should be allowed to excel where they wish and should be allowed to just be themselves – according to whatever self Hashem gave them.

"Previous post" mentioned above:
The True History of Women's Work

Related Post:
What Happens When Equality Demands Discrimination

Why aren't there more female window cleaners on high-rise buildings? I protest the dearth of females in this field! Clearly, women are being socially conditioned to avoid squeegees & soapy water at dizzying heights. How long will we let the glass ceiling of high-rise window-cleaning block us from achieving equality? I declare a Twitter attack against all these blatantly misogynist skyscraper owners! Join me at #SqueegToo!

#SqueegToo!

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What Happens When "Equality" Demands Discrimination

30/1/2019

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In recent times, American businesses face pressure to hire an equal number of female employees, even in areas which seriously lack qualified females.

For example, female students simply don’t enter certain fields in the same numbers as men. (And male students simply don't enter certain fields in the same number as women.)

In the US, only 18% of computer science degrees and engineering degrees are earned by women despite the fact that women earn 64% of undergraduate college degrees.

And while belly-button-ponderers like to drone on about the gender gap as a purely social construct, women certainly saturate university classes for other formerly male-dominated fields.

For example, women comprise half of business students and almost half of those majoring in biology, statistics, math, and physical sciences, while over half the students in journalism and communications are comprised of women.

So if, for example, you need an equal gender ratio of computer scientists or engineers, you simply won’t be able to find an equal number of female computer scientists or female engineers because they just don't exist in those numbers.

Alternatively, as has been happening already, you’ll need to take the less qualified female computer scientists or engineers in order to attempt to close the gender gap in your company.

After all, it’s not rational to assume that every member of the 18% is a top-notch computer scientist. You’ll have some B-students in that slice, just like you have in every slice, no matter how big or small.

So this will actually hurt women because people will suspect that a female computer scientist or engineer is actually not so qualified and only hired because of her gender.

And because there always are less qualified in every field, female computer scientists and engineers will gain a reputation for lower quality work because companies are forced to hire females at any price - and regardless of actual skill or qualification.

So female computer scientists and engineers will still have to prove that they earned their place. They’ll still have to work twice as hard to be considered just as good.

And anyway, it's just not possible to create a 50% gender ratio with only 18%.

That’s just one example.

Reverse Discrimination

And this type of gender discrimination for the sake of "equality" is what led Dilbert creator, Scott Adams, to become a cartoonist.

After repeated blocks to promotions in favor of female candidate ONLY because of gender (even though his superiors – including a female superior – admitted that he was the more qualified candidate), Adams stopped trying and instead detoured into the creation one of the most popular comic strips (and one of my personal favorites).

Hashem doesn’t close one door without opening another, and the second door opened into cartoon fame for Scott Adams.

However, companies forced to hire less qualified and less talented individuals will produce lower quality.

So the world of comics gained, but Adams's former company lost.

Biological Differences in Real Life

In contrast, how would you feel about a hospital hiring male neonatal nurses for the newborns ONLY because they were male?

How would you feel about less qualified nurses caring for your tender newborn simply to even out the gender ratio?

And unlike the world of engineering and computer science, most people are willing to admit that there are very real gender differences regarding the care of babies and small children.

To give an example: A non-Jewish family member of mine put his child in the preschool of the local JCC. The head teacher was a male.

When the parents came to pick up their child one day, the male teacher said playfully to the child in front of the parents, “Mason, do you want to tell your parents what you did today?”

After some cheery prodding, Mason said, “I ate a worm.” (Yes. An actual worm.)

“And what did it taste like?” said the male teacher in that cooing voice people reserve for small children.

“Jelly,” came the reply.

The teacher grinned at the parents.

My family member and his wife found this all very funny.

Personally, I’m wasn't so enamored.

But think about it for a minute.

With a female caretaker, children really are less likely to eat worms or other forbidden substances. It’s not that such a thing would never happen with a female preschool teacher – it DOES happen! But women tend to me more attentive and conscientious.

Males tend to have a more, “Oh, it’ll probably be okay…” approach to children. Not all, but many. And sometimes they’re right in this approach, but sometimes not.

And just for knowing, my 3.5-year-old is in gan with 2 male melamdim and they’re fabulous. Very responsible, very warm and attentive. And the head melamed is a master educator.

And despite the fact that our school offers the option of either a female teacher or a male teacher, we chose to put our child with the melamed over the ganenet because 2 other sons learned by this melamed and had extremely positive experiences.

So our youngest is by this same melamed too.

Nonetheless, it cannot be denied that these melamdim are still a bit more laid-back than a female teacher is for that age. (But at least the children never eat worms...)

Secondly, in the JCC example, if that had been a female teacher, she never would’ve reported the event in such a frivolous manner.

Many male teachers wouldn't either, but male teachers -- especially younger ones -- are more likely respond with humor rather than horror to such a situation.

(Also, I found it interesting that the teacher reported it as something Mason did -- i.e., "tell your parents what you did today" -- rather than something that happened to Mason -- i.e., "tell your parents what happened to you today." Does that reflect a gender difference? I'm honestly not sure.)

But how could Mason’s male teacher present the whole thing as a minor and amusing episode? He didn’t feel bad or express any personal responsibility or remorse for his own lapse of diligence. How can he not even feel apologetic?

That boggles my feminine mind.

Not to mention the kashrus issue if you’re Jewish...

In contrast, your average female teacher would say something like, “Oh, I’m so embarrassed to have to tell you this, but today, we caught Mason eating a worm before we could stop him. We’re so sorry this happened and we checked him out to make sure he was okay and we’ve taken steps to ensure this WON'T happen again. We feel just terrible about this, but we wanted to make sure you knew so that if Mason doesn’t feel well later, you can have him checked out that the worm didn’t harm him or anything.”

She’ll probably also explain a bit about why they didn’t catch Mason in time, i.e, it’s not that they weren’t responsible or didn’t care, but unforeseen circumstances popped up, which gave Mason took the opportunity to sample the worm.

(Or she might decide not to reveal anything in order to avoid confrontation & other negative consequences.)

Right?

Enforced "Equality"?

Yes, these are all generalizations. On the flip side, we all know appallingly negligent women and very conscientious men.

But biological hard-wiring is why more women than men tend to be attracted to working with very small children, especially babies. And these same reasons make women better than men in these areas too...generally speaking.

There are always exceptions.

Likewise, biological hard-wiring seems to be why more women tend to be less interested in computer science and engineering just like less men seem to be interested in early childhood education, becoming a neonatal nurse or becoming a nanny.

If you read the studies of why fewer women enter computer science and engineering and why, once there, succeed less than men, you’ll notice that it’s a lot about their approach to these areas.

The innate feminine approach is less conducive to success in these left-brained fields.

Of course, all the pontificators drone on about social conditioning, but you’re not necessarily seeing that in other traditionally male-dominated areas.

Needless to say, men can be excellent nannies and nurses and women can be excellent computer scientists and engineers.

But not nearly as many of them can be or will be.

So just to be clear: The issue is NOT about traditionally male-dominated professions.

Women succeed in droves in some traditionally male-dominated professions because those professions (like doctors, for example) are conducive to the female strengths and in the case of doctors, women actually practiced medicine from time immemorial, but didn't do so officially or with a fancy title.

It’s about biological hard-wiring, which will give one gender the upper hand in specific fields and there is NO WAY to even that out.

And forcing equality where there isn't any produces unwanted consequences.

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The Feminine Path to Greatness

29/1/2019

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For the past few decades, women have been encouraged to compare themselves to men.

This fosters unhealthy competition, including within marriage.

Of course, this ends up infiltrating the frum world too.

But really, it’s like comparing apples to oranges.

Apples & Oranges

If you’re an apple, you should be interested in your appley potential and being the best apple you can be — according to whatever apple you are. There are many different kinds of apples and no 2 are the same.

But if you’re obsessed with how you compare to an orange, you end up holding yourself back.

For example, you may obsess over how your peel is fully edible – yet the orange’s peel can be used for flavoring in high-end desserts. “Orange zest” somehow sounds so much more prestigious than “apple peel.” Yet you’ll be missing the wonderful vitamins and taste experience inherent in your own peel.

Or you fret about how to add more orange to your color. But you’re a Green Delicious! Adding more orange will only downgrade your market appeal and inherent beauty. Customers seek you out davka because you’re a Green Delicious or a Pink Lady rather than a juicy Jaffa.

Self-denigrating apples also ignore the absolutely scrumptious & comforting pies they make and instead yearn to be part of a citrus fruit cocktail or mourn their lack of vitamin C and pre-formed sections.

Likewise, Hashem set up spiritual physics so that women can achieve what men can, albeit in a different way.

How to be a Gedolat Hador & a Mekubaless

I still remember the wonder I felt when reading Rav Yehudah Petiyah’s account of an old illiterate Jewish lady who worked at sifting wheat with her millstones. Upon finding a date among the wheat, she recited a bracha with all the kavanah she had, then ate it.

Upon dozing off, an old man suddenly appeared before her, praising and thanking her for freeing him from his suffering — “even though you did not rescue me completely" —
before vanishing into thin air.

When she consulted Rav Yehudah Petiyah, he informed her that the date contained the reincarnated soul of this old man and via her pure-hearted blessing, she succeeded in rectifying him 2 levels upward!

The astounding part is that she succeeded in doing so even though she recited the wrong blessing. She said borei pri ha’adamah rather than borei pri ha’etz.

Had she recited the proper blessing, this lost soul would have achieved complete rectification.

Yet as far as I've seen, in order for men to accomplish such a thing, they need to fortify themselves with lots of Torah study and learn the proper kavanot of the kabbalists. You hear stories of a soul trapped in a fruit achieving some kind of rectification when eaten by a righteous Torah scholar – not a well-intentioned am ha’aretz.

Think about this for a minute:

In all the stories of rectifying souls via blessings, have you ever heard of a regular yeshivah bachur achieving this? No. It’s always a learned tzaddik or even a mekubal. So how was this poor illiterate and somewhat ignorant (it’s not difficult to guess the correct blessing for a date, like it is for bananas) old lady able to achieve this?

And again, even with the wrong blessing, she managed to rectify this soul up 2 levels. Had she said the correct blessing, this soul would have achieved complete rectification — all because of her heart and mental focus, regardless of her actual knowledge. So she was able to achieve what only mekubalim can achieve. Amazing!

In a nutshell: Hashem set up the world so that women can achieve great things by taking a completely different path than men.

Upon being asked what a girl is taught in the womb by the angel, Rav Avigdor Miller explained she is taught “an endless Torah” of good middot, character refinement, emuna, and daat Hashem. He quotes the Vilna Gaon, who insisted that his daughters should learn all the mussar books. (The category of mussar books today includes but is not limited to: Duties of the Heart, Pathways of the Just, Ways of the Righteous, Pele Yoetz, Rav Eliyahu Dessler, etc.)

As Rav Miller emphasizes in tape from A Moment with Rav Avigdor Miller-Tape #459:

All the mussar seforim are available to girls.

If a girl learns all these things, then she is a gaon, she's considered the same as if she would be a gadol hador.

She has learned her Torah, she is a success.

This isn’t patronizing or being satisfied with "less."

Hashem set things up so that a woman who excels in her path really does become a success, a gadol hador, and can even accomplish miracles.

This is a truth that both men and women need to internalize and appreciate.

For the full account of Rav Petiyah and the millstone lady:
The Jewess Mystique: The Truth about Women & Mitzvot

To receive a weekly email with choice transcriptions of Rav Avigdor Miller's classes like the one above, please go to the sign-up page here: http://rmillerqa.com/

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UPDATED: Stripping Off Society's Big Cover-Up about Marriage & Motherhood

1/1/2019

5 Comments

UPDATE:
Either Weebly or my filter is not letting me comment on my own post (on other posts -- yes; on this one -- no), so I can't respond in the comment section. But all the comments so far are very inspiring and written from the heart (and much appreciated!).

This wasn't in the post, but based on the comments, I feel it's important to add that while getting pregnant later in life is often more difficult (as mentioned in the post), it's far from impossible. Two commenters had children from age 37 and onward. I've personally known women who got pregnant for the first time at age 39 and another at age 45 shortly after her first marriage -- no fertility treatments or even herbs, and no long wait!

So if this is your situation, please don't despair! And I wish all of you much bracha and hatzlacha.

(And thank you to all the commenters for sharing their stories & giving chizuk.)

Growing up in secular America, I always saw marriage & family portrayed as the end of one’s life.

My orthodontist cheerfully informed me that she waited until around age 37 to start a family. "I wanted to wait until I wouldn't feel resentful about not being able to go out to dinner," she said with a warm smile.

As if your own child isn't worth missing a couple of hours in a restaurant in the evening.

As if you can never go out to dinner again...

I secretly wanted marriage and children instead of a career (though I wanted to be a novelist on the side too), but couldn’t admit this—not even to myself.

You were supposed to push off marriage and children for as long as possible. Education, career, travel, living one’s dreams, sowing wild oats, and all that took precedence.

Marriage and children came only when you had lived your life and were either finished with everything else or were just sick of it.

Sadly, this has led a great many women into the dilemma of being at the height of her career just as her biological clock starts running out of time. Now she’s supposed to find a husband--or if she already has a husband, start trying to get pregnant and then deal with pregnancy and juggle a baby when her career is going full-force.

Furthermore, many women discover that it’s not as easy to get pregnant at 38 as it would have been at 22.

And while frum women continue to have children throughout their fertile years, a non-Jewish journalist pointed out that for other Western women who anyway only plan on 1-3 children, it makes more sense to build your family when you’re on the upside of fertility, when you’re young and can deal with sleepless nights (she makes the point that college students often throw themselves into all-nighters: study sessions, parties, discussions & heart-to-heart talks, etc), and are still at the beginning of their career.

Yes, building a career (if a woman wants) goes more slowly with young children, but it’s better to do things that way and hit your momentum when they are relatively self-sufficient teenagers rather than hit your momentum—and then need to slow down or stop to deal with birth, recovery, and a child who will be very dependent on you for the next few years.

The Best Feeling Ever

When I had my first child at the age of 24, one of my initial feelings—in addition to (and actually because of) new-baby ecstasy—was betrayal.

Not only did I realize I’d been lied to my whole life, but that I’d been lied to very badly.

And I felt so betrayed.

Having a baby was one of the best things to ever happen to me.

I felt so lucky and grateful. I felt like my baby was a treasure and that I somehow merited the great fortune of this special treasure being given to me.

Also, I felt a love that I’d never felt before.

But before I continue, it bears noting that every situation is different. Some people get the baby blues after birth, some people face emergencies, tragedies, or colicky babies, and some people don’t feel joy but feel heavy (albeit not unpleasant) responsibility instead. Varying amounts of anxiety are often part of the post-partum recovery too.

And that’s all in the realm of normal and nothing to feel guilty or defective about. If you do feel tremendous joy after birth, it’s a big chessed from Hashem and something for which to be grateful.

And I also faced difficulties. Just as 2 examples: The healing episiotomy hurt and was a nuisance to care for. The nursing went pretty badly and was excruciatingly painful for an entire month (despite following all the expert nursing advice), and it continued to be an unexpectedly stress-filled hassle until I got pregnant with the next child around 8 or 9 months later. Phew!

And despite the ups and downs of parenthood, the times when I wanted to run away, and the times when I feel like a big failure as a mother, I always feel like me kids are the best thing I’ve ever done in life. (And I didn’t even do it—it was Hashem! But still.)

But I was deeply in love with the baby himself. And that kind of love is a very pure love to experience because it’s so strong, intense, joyful—and selfless. A baby only takes and can’t give anything back (except smiles—but only after a few weeks). So you’re just rejoicing in the free gift of his very existence—pretty heady stuff.

And I had no idea I would feel that way until I did.

The Truth about Marriage & Motherhood

And I was just like, “Why, oh why did everyone always make this out to be so awful? Why is it considered so miserable and limiting that it needs to be pushed off until you’ve fully ‘lived life’ first?”

Why is the emphasis always on the hardships of motherhood and not the fulfillment or the rewards?

I felt like I’d only started living life with his birth! I realized that I didn’t have a life before I had my kids.

And I felt regret that I hadn’t gotten married and pregnant right out of high school instead of wasting my time. (It would’ve been kinder for my husband too, instead of him suffering through shidduchim until I finally got my act together.)

Yet when I told someone, “If only I’d known how great this would be, I’d have done this much earlier!”, she laughed and said, “But were you ready before now?”

“Well, no,” I said.

“That’s what everyone says,” she told me. “They all wish they’d done this earlier, but admit they weren’t ready before.”

She’s right—but she’s also wrong.

Her comment got me thinking…why wasn’t I ready until I married at 23?

Well, I needed to become frum first and to get myself solidly into the Torah life. But other than that?

An informal survey showed me that I wasn’t alone in feeling that any major inner growth came because of marriage and children, and not a result of work prior to marriage and children.

Many women feel that the experience of dealing with marriage and children increased their emotional maturity—maturity and inner growth that couldn’t come any other way.

Needless to say, marriage and children don’t guarantee peak emotional maturity. There are many immature and irresponsible parents walking around. Furthermore, some people are so dysfunctional, they really shouldn’t get married or have children yet because they simply will not be able to rise to the occasion.

The point is that whatever level of emotional maturity you found yourself on before you married and procreated, that level rises after marriage and procreation. Usually. Most people are better people after marriage and children—even if they feel like they’re not.

This is because even during parenthood’s most stressful, miserable, and despairing times, you’re still doing something meaningful.

You’re rectifying profound soul issues and changing the world.

You can’t say that about partying, making money, climbing the corporate ladder, performing, falling into yet another meaningless relationship with no future, drinking, touring Paris, or lying on the beach with the latest bestseller.

Nurturing Different Facets of Self

Also, mothers manage to nurture other facets of their personalities. Just in the frum community, there’s a wealth of shiurim and classes for dance, drama, art, music, sewing, fruit-carving, cake-decorating, pastry-making, healthy meals, and much more. (The variety depends where you live.)

Taking courses either online or a couple of times a week at available hours gives mothers degrees and skills for paying jobs.

It’s more of a juggle when you have kids, but it’s definitely doable—at least to a certain extent. And many if not most mothers participate in activities outside the domestic sphere, so it's obviously a realistic thing.

The Other Big Lie

The other big lie—and it’s a lie by omission—is that you can't push things off until later in life.

When is that option ever offered?

You CAN push things off until later in life. And it’s okay to do that.

Just like secular society encourages people to push off marriage and children until later in life, you can do that with other things too.

For example, I know so many women who made a career change, starting in their late forties. Their kids were older or out of the house and they started taking courses toward a new degree. Then they phased out their old career to start the new one around fifty.

What’s wrong with that?

NOTHING.

As a personal example, there are certain activities and classes I’d like to indulge in, but I don’t have the time or extra money right now. And that’s perfectly fine! I’m not tortured by their absence right now and it gives me something to look forward to in my fifties and sixties. Why not?

What is the big pressure to do everything (except child-bearing) before you’re 40?

It’s not a coincidence that youth-and-hedonism-worshiping Hollywood pushes this whole deception. Those degenerates portray the world as they honestly see it.

But it’s a big tragedy that so many people fall into it.

Related posts:
Breaking Out of the Big Lie about Motherhood

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Welcome to the Old Normal

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No Such Thing as a Kosher Pig

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A One-Woman Gemach

The Hidden Underground of Jerusalem

Removing My Rose-Colored Glasses

The Secret to Real Chessed: Humility

Nurturing Runaway Girls

The Making of a Baalat Chessed

Achieving Spiritual Perfection in an Imperfect Life

Focusing on Spiritual Beauty

Nature Still has the Edge over Nurture

Female Doctors vs Male Doctors

Nothing REALLY New under the Sun

Free to be You & Me

Reverse Discrimination

Biological Differences in Real Life

Enforced "Equality"?

Apples & Oranges

How to be a Gedolat Hador & a Mekubaless

The Best Feeling Ever

The Truth about Marriage & Motherhood

Nurturing Different Facets of Self

The Other Big Lie

Myrtle Rising

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