Lacing up the Walking Shoes

Sunny Day in London

On Sunday, myself and a handful of others gathered ‘round for the first UK meeting of the US social justice organization I volunteer for, Uri L’Tzedek. It was a truly inspiring meeting, and I don’t doubt that the British Jewish community can accomplish an unbelievable amount for the purpose of justice, especially considering their unbelievable youth leadership and community cohesion. Over delicious pasta and snacks, we chatted about Judaism and Justice, and planned ahead.

I woke up quite early on Tuesday morning, and  I was feeling quite down for various reasons. On a whim, I decided to make the 3.5 mile trek to campus on foot. I felt that walking would make me feel better, and that it would get my heart pumping for the day. Because I got a bit lost, the walk was closer to four miles, and each step was exhilarating. With each breath of fresh air and each glimpse of a vibrant purple crocus, I was able to process and unpack the things that were on my mind. I walked with a silly grin on my face, and I let my feet really feel the pavement of the wide sidewalks. I passed many charitable organizations (the equivalent of Non-Profit Organizations in the States), and noticed that even the public housing areas were well kept, with lush green spaces and modern playgrounds for children. The route I was taking took me through the Bunhill Cemetary, and I just happened past William Blake’s grave. The street art that I saw was abundant and passionate, and really quite beautiful. Will try and get more photos to post of the street art in a future post. As I neared campus, I turned down Toynbee street, the historical site where the lines between activism and academia became blurred, where the architectures of the Welfare State came to study conditions of poverty in central London.

I got to class right on time, sat down and opened my laptop. As we talked about the implications of food and gender, I both engaged with the material but dreamily looked at the mirror-image reflection of whimsical flocks of pigeons fly by on my laptop screen.

The Professor put on a short clip from an ethnography about American eating habits. The clip showed a woman from Nebraska feeding her young son fast food and describing other non-communal, non-nutritious eating habits. Face in palm. When I raised my hand to make a comment about the clip, I made a disclaimer first that I was an American.

A bit later on in the class, the Professor showed a clip of Jewish Law as it relates to kosher food consumption. It involved a lot of bearded rabbis walking around restaurants, describing all of the meticulous attention that needed to be paid to the cooking process, among them checking strawberries for bugs and scanning eggs for bloodspots. Interspersed were scholar-rabbi-types who quoted sections from the Shulchan Aruch. I saw several people giggle during the film, and I almost understand why. I thought it seemed so meaningless as it was portrayed in the film (Though I have attached it here, and you can make your own deductions)! The Professor asked a number of questions: Where do these laws come from? Moses. Why do the Jews keep these laws? Big part of their tradition, purity. Translates ritual into everyday life. When the Professor asked what the students thought the implications of the clip were for gender, a woman raised her hand and stated that women were just not present at all. It seemed very patriarchal. I blushed, but then shot my hand up into the air.

I decided to come out.

“Yes?”

“Well, I know I don’t necessarily look like the people in the film, but I identify as an Orthodox Jew…”

I was then barraged with questions. A religious Muslim man posed a question about forgery of certification and related it to his Halal shop. Another student asked me how it was possible that non-Jews were cooking the food. The day before, another one of my classmates, who I’m pretty friendly with, was talking to me about her area, which is sharply segregated between Super-Brits and Orthodox Jews. She described the erection of the eruv around her town and how it was causing property values to rise. It seems that religious Jews are pretty rare at London Met, and it was intense and interesting to address all of the questions.

I was saddened to see that this was the video that was shown about Kosher dietary laws, and it definitely made my resolve to work on the Tav HaYosher (an initiative that seeks to reward kosher eating establishments for following local labor laws with the same stringency as the food restrictions) campaign even stronger.

During the seminar discussion, I had an amazing conversation with three girls, one a Muslim from Somalia (grew up in Britain), a Christian woman from Zimbabwe, and a woman that lived in London her whole life. We talked about eating habits and gender, and we found that regardless of our individual cultures (even the Brit’s “secular” culture), the women were generally assumed to be responsible to meal preparation. While the women in Zimbabwe laboriously cooked together in a communal pot, the men are the first ones who were served. The family of the girl from Somalia eats eclectic foods, but Dad always must be asked or provided an alternative if he doesn’t like it. The young lady from Britain usually cooks for her husband, though sometimes he does the shopping. In traditional Jewish culture, many of the cooking tasks have been consistently done by women (though there are some exceptions. In my family, for example, my Dad bakes the Challah) The discussion was SO interesting, and this is another reason why attending London Met is so great.

On my way out of the building, I ran into some students advertising for a big Rally coming up on Saturday called March for the Alternative: Jobs/Growth/Justice. Though it is on the Jewish Sabbath, I hope to plan to walk there on Shabbat afternoon and be a part of the rally. I mentioned to one of the organizers that I would be going straight from synagogue, and perhaps bringing some friends. She proceeded to ask me right away what me opinion was about Israel, and asked if she could have a few minutes of my time. I said sure, and I explained that I was both supportive yet critical of Israel. That my plan was hopefully one day to make a difference and work in social justice initiatives in the country. She then proceeded to fire statements and accusations about Israel at me. I tried to respond to some of them, and noticed myself getting emotional when she started talking about the Holocaust.

“Listen,” I said to her, “Do you hear what’s happening? We are throwing statements back and forth. We are getting nowhere. We’re just getting emotional.”

We continued to talk about this for another few moments, and I told her quite firmly that I was

“sick of debates. It’s time for dialogue, you know? Our generation has the potential to bring something really fresh and important to the conflict. “

It just seemed meaningless to wave flags in each other’s faces. Why not work towards something productive?  Anyway, after that discussion, I walked another two or three miles to Selfridge’s and bought myself a Kosher egg-salad sandwich. It was delicious.

Today, the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day, but my day was interrupted by the news of a bombing in central Jerusalem. A close friend of mine was there, and after I spoke to her, I almost wanted to scream. I looked on the Israeli news websites. Deaths on both sides of the borders. It felt so empty and sad.

So, tonight, our theatre class took us to War Horse, a beautiful production that took place during World War I. There were beautiful, grand puppets and the play was truly a spectacle, but I had to leave in the middle. Primarily a play aimed towards children, there was too much glory and heroism embodied in war for me to handle. Looking at the piles of actors posed as dead soldiers on stage was the last straw for me. I left, sobbing, at intermission, devastated that human beings are constantly killing one another. I wasn’t sure who to talk to, but I took a deep breath and stepped into the cool night air. I didn’t return to the theatre for the rest of the performance.

I hope I am not coming off as incredibly melodramatic—I guess these concerns just build up, and I’ve had a lot on my mind.

So, this week, I came out. I’ve come out before, as a Queer Ally. But now, I came out as a Jew, as an American. As a supporter of both Israel and of Social Justice.

With my appointment for training as a facilitator with the Three Faiths Forum coming up next week, I look forward to exploring some of these complicated elements of my identities.