Modestly Yours

Billboards verus Menorahs

Billboards. They are everywhere along the drive from my parents in Queens to my friends in New Jersey. Between the Lincoln and Midtown tunnels, women who are twenty feet tall twist into coy poses, presenting themselves as if they were carefully lacquered pieces of schnitzel on a platter. In my car below, I am and hoping that the other drivers can keep their eyes on the road despite the abounding nakedness.

It's no wonder that everyone in New York thinks I look so strange in my long sleeves and long skirt. My dentist told my accountant who told my mother that my clothes are a little odd. They've never seen anyone wearing long skirts before. One relative complimented me on my wool skirt, but explained that it would look better if it were shortened to a few inches above my knee. 

What does this all remind me of? Hanukah!

Hanukah celebrates the triumpth of internality over externality, of purity over vulgarity. The Miracle of the Lights coincided with the Jewish people's resistance against the Hellenistic culture that sought to dominate them. This clash of cultures, between modesty and display, is very much alive today. The billboards that we see today are the cultural inheritance of the ancient Greeks. My long skirt is the cultural inheritance of so many great-great-great grandmothers.

As I struggle to explain my long skirts to my family (and my accountant, and my dentist) it's inspiring to know that this clash can be overcome. Dear readers, what do you think of this tension between the internal and the external?

What's So Threatening About Long Sleeves?

The word has gotten out back home that I'm cultivating a modest lifestyle. A family friend called me up to find out just how far I had gone. He asked, "Does that mean that you're like, wearing long sleeves and stuff?" He sounded worried.

Temptation got the better of me and I gave the deadpan answer, "Yes, it's winter and it's cold. Yes, I'm wearing long sleeves."

This was followed by a long silence from my friend. That wasn't the answer that he was hoping to hear.

Nex time, I hope to answer this question in a more direct way. Maybe even sweetly. But that wasn't why he didn't like my response. He doesn't want me to cover up. That raises the question: What's so threatening about long sleeves?

Dear readers, what are your thoughts?

The Flaming Approach

I am learning the difference between 'Nice to Know' news and 'Need to Know' news. The weather report predicts a 30 % chance of light rain showers--that's nice to know. The police commissioner predicts a highest probability of violent incidents in highly trafficked areas of Jerusalem--that's need to know.

There is a parade scheduled to run down the main street of Jerusalem on Friday (i.e., tomorrow). According to WorldPride's website, "Jerusalem WorldPride 2006 will bring a new focus to an ancient city through a massive demonstration of LGBT dignity, pride, and boundary-crossing celebration." Personally, I feel  it is a sign of our crazy times that we throw parades on behalf of something as private as sexuality.

But of even greater concern to me is the response by those who claim to walk the decent path. Some protesters are using tactics like burning garbage and rolling burning tires into the street to block traffic. That is no more civilized than the public display of sexuality that they protest. We cannot teach about appropriate behaviors by acting like animals.

Gentle readers, if the parade does run what do you think is an appropriate way to respond?

Introductions and Re-Introductions

Dear  Readers,

This entry is an introduction for those of you who don't yet know me, and a re-introduction for everybody else. At least one of our other bloggers was in my freshman year dorm at Williams, so there's at least one reader out there who remembers me by my English name (Elissa) and previous  craziness. (Hi Erin!)

I'm writing from atop a mountain (it's really a big hill but the locals call it a Har which means mountain) at a women's Yeshiva in Jerusalem. I think that I'm practicing shomer negiah (a spiritual practice involving not touching men) but I can't know for sure because there are no men to avoid touching on this mountaintop seminary. How did I get here?

I happen to be at the same seminary that Wendy Shalit attended. I also attended Williams College after her, so I'm following in Wendy's footsteps in a very unintentional way. But it took me a long time to get here, and that's the little story for today:

I met Wendy in 2001. She was covered from head to toe, in a loose fitting black garment. I'd never seen anything like it. Modesty is an acquired taste, like coffee or caviar. She talked about how we were precious. She talked about respecting ourselves. It made no sense. I thought that I did respect myself. I was sure of it. It's almost impossible to hold in one's mind the thought that you don't respect yourself.

Besides that, I did respect myself! I respected myself as a very clever fox. But the distinction that Wendy made was between respecting ourselves as very intelligent animals and respecting ourselves as holy. Once I understood this difference, I needed a new blog space.

Many thanks to David Sacks for (re)introducing me to Wendy, and many thanks to Wendy and Modestly Yours for holding this space.

Dear readers, I look forward to hearing from you.

Modestly Yours,

Batya S.