Do I know you?

A close friend once told me that sharing intimate details about her life had caused others to feel they knew her better than they really did. These individuals also used this knowledge about her as licence to offer commentary and unsolicited advice about her life choices. Sadly I was probably guilty of treating her this way until very recently as well.
Yesterday something happened which caused me to experience the above on the most amplified scale. Someone from my childhood posted two statuses, minutes apart expressing the deepest despair and what I felt was a cry for help. I knew from previous FB posts of this same individual that they had been through some really painful stuff that I hope nobody ever experiences and consequently felt very much alone in the world and both helpless and hopeless. I wouldn't have any connection to this childhood acquaintance except for FB, I wouldn't have any knowledge about these very intimate details of this person's life except for FB. Never-the-less, a cry for help is a cry for help. I knew I couldn't do very much half way across the world, but I wrote what I felt were words of encouragement under the status, tried to let this person know that they are worthwhile. When this was rebuffed, I tried private messaging the person to let them know that I was there to listen. They answered with a single sentence of one of the very sad and painful things that occurred in their life recently. I went on and wrote a paragraph of encouragement, some words of which I debated writing. I can't say I deeply regret any of what I wrote, but I then had the humbling experience. That is when I was put in my place. This individual politely reminded me that we don't really know each other anymore.
Facebook and other social media that has emerged in the last decade gives us access into the lives of people who may never have stayed connected with and often people who we never met. We can share the most intimate details of lives verbally and visually with the entire world in an instant. And we can offer support, advice and sometimes less pleasant interactions with people we may have not stayed in contact with or don't even know. But the question is, should we? Something to ponder.

Echo Chamber

Recently my husband and I decided over coffee that entitlement, validation and victimization are the greatest idolatry of the times we are living in. That's not to say that people's feelings and experiences aren't legitimate, but rather while we spend all this time talking about "naratives" and "the dialogue", all we are really interested in is the "soliloquy" or "monologue". We don't really listen to eachother, we are constantly thinking of our next commentary. We create echo chambers for ourselves both on and off the internet and further abuse the internet as our own personal soapbox.
Take for example three different scenarios. The first, a well known rabbi and creator of an institution makes a Tisha B'Av speech in response to a viral FB video about abuse in the Jewish community. The said video was powerful and was simply put out there to create awareness and open the dialogue for change and improvement of a destructive situation in our community. It was made by a young man who was a survivor of abuse.   For those not familiar, Tisha B'Av speeches are by definition strong and a call to self examination. A young woman who unfortunately was a victim....no wait let me rephrase that a survivor of abuse, a warrior and  a spokesperson for child victims of abuse took the rabbi's words personally and.....out of context. Let's be honest, she  and many others are just not in that place. And the rabbis message while well intentioned, was possibly not worded and expressed with that best judgement and sensitivity. This young woman then went on to make a FB post on Jewish Community Watch. The sole purpose of this group is to expose abusers and provide an outlet for survivors of abuse. In her post she dissects what she sees as the faults of 3 minutes of an hour long speech. The 100s of responses from many people who have never even heard of this rabbi spiraled so out of control that by the end of this thread this rabbi was suddenly an abuser himself and hiding something?! Needless to say, his response which was supposed to be an apology came off as defensive and a list of his merits in helping victims of abuse. I realize that humility is a virtue but what would you do?
The second example, a young woman is new to a country and got caught doing something she didn't realize was illegal. There are a lot of details to this story such as that she didn't realize what she did was illegal (she didn't know she was supposed to validate a monthly bus pass each time she enters the bus or train. She was caught and subsequently fined), she felt that she was a first time offender and should have had warning, she felt her so called crime wasn't really a crime as she had already paid for her monthly pass and THATS IT and now she is refusing to pay the fine and willing to pay up to 10x the fine to a lawyer ON PRINCIPLE, TO PROVE A POINT. She posted on a FB group seeking sympathy. Ok I think she really wanted to know what the consequences of her not paying the fine were, but when people told her the consequences and nicely tried to explain the transport system and that maybe she should just pay the fine and move on.....she cursed each and every one of them out in the most vile, furious manner. This post led to other posts etc. If you don't really want advice, why pretend to seek it on the internet?
The final scenario I am going to be a bit more vague on. I am in a FB group which is dedicated to things of more frivolous nature, yet necessary and healthy in theory to the wellbeing of many women. A woman in the group politely posted a question regarding whether something would be PC or rude to do. Many responded and likewise a friend of mine responded. My friends response was the opposite of everybody else, but was based with great sensitivity on her own life experiences and the life experiences of many others with whom she is friends or acquaintances. I want to add, my friend G-d bless her is not subtle, her actual vocal volume is quiet, but she expresses her self with strength and conviction. Many people chose to be offended and rather than listen, added there own barrage of commentary. The negative cycle that resulted was so sad. My friend if you are reading this, I am keeping this vague because I respect you and your privacy and because I am big enough to admit that I can never really known the depth of your experiences enough to write about them. And also in keeping this vague I am in no way trying to minimize what happened and its results.
People of the world, the internet is not our soapbox, we are not all dictators of our own little city states. It's wonderful to express your opinions and it's wonderful to push for change, but if somebody doesn't agree it's an opportunity for growth, an opportunity for listening, an opportunity for dialogue. DIALOGUE!
Typed words can hurt and destroy. Choose them carefully. Life is precious, people created B'tzelem Elokim (in G-d's image) are precious. Love to the possibly 5 people who read my blog, 4 whom might be family.

Indoor Voice

I have tried a handful of times to teach my students in summer camp about "indoor/outdoor voices". It doesn't work and not just because it doesn't translate well into Hebrew but more importantly it doesn't translate well into the Israeli culture. There is one way to speak in this country and its at the top of your lungs!
Yesterday I experienced a proverbial electrical shortage where my anxiety and ADD ridden brain did not process the Israeli culture I am living in. My brain was also overloaded from a morning full of healthy, boisterous 10 year olds and my own personal stresses. My electrical circuit burst. I behaved and spoke in a way that was for me regrettable in a professional situation. While I am doing much better today, I still haven't fully forgiven myself.
The question arises in me, how do we balance the many facets of our life, mental health and make up, surrounding stresses whether they be personal, cultural, professional...our responsibilities to G-d, our family, our job, our world. And how do we forgive ourselves for being infinitely far away from perfection and getting it right.
I don't have an answer but maybe asking these questions is the first step.

Nothing

"Okay Morales, what do you feel?" And I said "Nothing, I'm feeling nothing".
My mother-in-law recently noticed I hadn't written a blog post for a while. Generally writing comes to me when I am in the heat of emotion. Lately I feel the most deadening nothing. The American election? Nothing. World terrorism? Nothing. The re-rise of anti-semitism? Nothing. The majority's indifference or denial of the re-rise of anti-semitism? Nothing. The rising cost of life? Nothing.
This afternoon, a mother of one of the children I am teaching came into my classroom demanding in Hebrew if her child was progressing in English. Let's skip over the irony for a moment. I am the teacher, the adult , the professional. But I sank and became, the subordinate, a frightened child and extremely unprofessional. Let me give you a frame of reference. The philosophy of my place of employment is teaching a language immersion style. This means only using the language you are teaching. They also pay very poorly, but I took the job. I have integrity even if my entire salary is funneling into child care and even if I feel that most of the kids don't really want to be there. Sometimes I feel like a glorified English speaking babysitter who is being forced to speak broken Hebrew to her little charges. Anyway, I fumbled and jumbled to this mother in Hebrew and scurried to assign some homework. Then I got called into my boss's office and she requested I speak to the mother. Between my English and my husbands Hebrew we proceeded to explain that her child is weak student and compensates for it by being a bully...
I don't know what happened afterward. I feel the most bottomless nothing.

Life Matters

If I publish this I know I am committing cyber suicide and it will be as if I had a death wish. So be it. The news of the day has been about the violent murder of 32 year old Philando Castille, family man, school cafeteria manager and mentor to so many young by the hand of a police officer. And all this in my homestate of MN, the so called "land of the nice". I wasn't born under rock, I know this isn't the first thing of its kind and sadly in the world we live in, it may not be the last. The much viral #blacklivesmatter, I AGREE WITH IT. Yes, me orthodox hareidi Jew living in Israel, my claim to fame in my highschool yearbook was PRIDE Leadership ( a group supporting people of all cutlures, races, religions and sexual orientation), Mathletes, Best Buddies and National Honor Society. A popular jock I was not and a very nerdy albeit very large supporter of the underdog I was.
This isn't about all that. That was just a long winded introduction to get to my real point. ALL LIVES MATTER. Yes yes, I know what you're saying, white Jewish girl, what do you know?
I live in Israel. THAT already makes me a target, my family a target, oh in this oh so "PC, equal world as long as you're on MY side" it makes me very political. And while I see my Jewish brothers and sisters  fully supportive and ardently loud about #blacklivesmatter, and they should be, I see them mostly silent or even worse beat around the bush apologetic about Israel, our own people's sensless blood shed.....they refuse to call it murder, terrorism and instead politely stay silent or beat around the bush. Lives of boys peacefully trying to get home for shabbos, families peacefully driving to Shabbat Chattan (sabbath before or after a Jewish marriage), lives of men peacefully praying in the a synagogue, the life of a teenage girl peacefully sleeping in her own bed....ALL OF THESE LIVES MATTER!!! And please save all of your "your living in a political hotbed", this is a "Orthodox Jewish Problem", an "Israel Problem" comments. It's not. We who live here, we live here for you, for Jews all over the world, for our people who stood at Har Sinai, for our people who were murdered and exiled during the destruction of both Batei Mikdash (Holy Temples), for our people murdered and exiled in the Spanish Inquisition, murdered during various pogroms and still relatively close for the 6 million kedoshim taken from us during the Holocaust. We are here for all of you.
So I am begging you. Yes stand up, go protest for the life of Philando Castille, may his memory only be for a blessing and may his family find comfort andjustice. But with the same vigor please....Stand up for your Jewish brethren whose blood is still being shed here in Israel, be sad for them, be vocal. And G-d willing in this merit, maybe we can start to be the change in our time, for all lives senselessly snuffed out before their time. Have a good shabbos and a good weekend.

The Turn Around

This story should start in the middle with a very Israeli cashier at superpharm, but more on that later. We're all familiar with the well known children's story "The Little Engine that Could" of "I think I can" fame. That was not me this morning, or many mornings, or many days, weeks, months or years. I am forcing myself to say, Baruch Hashem that is my life. My life with its potpourri of difficulties and blessings.
Back to this morning. I dragged myself out of bed around 8ish wondering if maybe today I would be somewhat productive and contributing member of society. I washed nagel vasser (morning ritual hand washing with a cup for observant Jews) and padded into my sons room. That sunny little face is seriously a ray of all that is good and right and the world. Then come some less pleasant parts of my morning, we all have them. And finally we're all dressed and breakfasted and a student that my husband and I co-tutor for Bagrut (Israeli regents) came and went. And I felt like the worst garbage in the whole world, a deep sadness, worthlessness and failure.
So I headed out the the Malcha Mall in Jerusalem. We were both in desperate need of an outing and human contact. Our first stop was Superpharm which brings me back to the beginning.  I wanted to purchase a certain cosmetic item which I heard was on sale (it's fruitless to say don't tell my husband because he reads my blog). I was waiting in line with the cosmetic and my baby in one hand and pushing my stroller with the other hand. I wasn't sure how long I would be waiting in line as the cashier stepped away to help an older woman with sunglasses and the rest of Israel doesn't believe in lines. When the cashier returned I stepped up to pay smiling. She asked me in Hebrew what was so funny. So I replied the first thing that popped into my head, "everything with babies is stressful" to which my perfectly timed tot gave his most charming and ravishing smile. The cashier proceeded to tell me what a bracha (blessing) my little guy was and to talk nicely to me and give me blessings and on and on. She offered me water because it was so hot.
Did I really mean that my baby is stressful? Well aren't all of our children sometimes? The truth is I was smiling because it was better than crying and to use Brit speak I felt "rubbish". This cashier without realizing it made me feel good and like a worthy human being again. I went on to have some nice play time with my baby in the mall play area, have some broken Hebrew conversations with the other mommies and even survived my little routine screaming fit on the busride home. Thank you nice cashier lady the Malcha Mall Superpharm and sorry if any of you actually read this megilla (Yiddish for epic novel).

The World Class Gusher

The much amplified and high speed negativity engaged in by our generation through the miraculous power of the internet is a much discussed and sometimes over discussed topic. From internet bullying, to the need to instantly and violently verbally jump on any individual who doesn't share your views, to the need to tear to shreds human life through character slaughter is the insatiable need of our generation.
I don't really want to discuss that. I just really don't. But here's the thing, I find myself more and more pouring out compliments over social media. Don't get me wrong, I am sincere person. I am not fake, I am not a gusher, I am not a tushy kisser. But I find myself clicking that like and now love and wow, and ha ha button almost on auto pilot. I find myself complimenting in superlatives and italics and all that is EXTREME. But positive extreme. There is just to much negativity, too much violence and too much soul slaughter.
I am all in favor of activism and being passionate in what you believe in. I don't necessarily believe in being PC and polite all though I tend to be both being a child born in the 80s and raised in the 90s. But I do believe this. if you compliment one person every day, on the internet, or better yet in person; Someone you know or someone you don't know and you do it in the best way possible you are small drop of change that is much needed in the world now. Each small drop can eventually build an ocean of positivity.

Cycles

I have been getting a lot of pressure lately to place my son in gan (Israeli pre-school) in the fall. I was going to write about this. I was going to write about how my choice for my future 18 month old is financially dependent. I was going to write about how that is a cycle because my employment pre-child would not have even covered the cost of child care, therefore I left it and chose to be a stay -at-home-mom. And then came the search for employment from which I always stopped short. I am over qualified yet under qualified. I have an undergraduate degree in Biology and a plethora of entry level work experience, yet it feels I am barely qualified to bag groceries or flip burgers. I have been living in a country for 2+ years for which I understand the language and culture in my head, but am paralyzed when having to execute either field of knowledge.

And then there is my fear. Fear to send my child out into an uncertain world. A world where the newspaper reports monsters disguised at motherly day care professionals. Children shaken, neglected etc. But the worst part is another cycle. My child has inherited my fearful personality. And the threat that keeping him at home with me will only further nurture and foster this character trait lingers menacingly over my head. 

I wrote at the beginning "I was going to write". I wanted to write about something else.

Baby Talk

There is this commercial for Materna that has been circulating lately. Materna for those out of the loop is a brand of Israeli baby formula.

In the commercial two babies are standing in their diapers and like true Israelis are speaking emphatically to each other with exaggerated hand and body gestures. The catch is they are speaking baby gibberish with Hebrew subtitles.  
Now as a mother of a 14 month old whose attempts at speech become more pronounced in the height of emotion...ahh the chuckles. Right now as my little man is getting closer and closer to inteligible speech, walking and G-d willing tearing about my house I'm in awe, hopeful but also in need of the relief of therapeutic laughter. Now to get going with my Pesach cleaning:)

Come for Soup

I promised this wasn't going to be a cooking blog and it's not. BUT.....remember that fable Stone Soup from childhood?  Yes that one! The ultimate farce where selfish villagers are tricked into being hospitable, giving and kind with the promise of soup magically made from just stones!
Disclaimer: I don't make stone soup. I do however make lots of scrap broth.

Scrap Broth

The thing is we in the Kalish home love soup. It's economical, it's healthy, it's delicious. As any chef will tell you, every good soup starts with stock, a broth etc. In the good old US of A I was spoiled by Trader's Joes, Imagine and Tabatchnick boxed broths. These don't exist in Israel. What does exist is a huge variety of MSG powders in every color of the rainbow. Enter scrap broth, otherwise know as what Shulamit does with all those veg peels, tops, tails and otherwise less desirable/edible parts of vegetables instead of composting. Not that I'm opposed to composting. Composting is great. But for us in the concrete jungle of Jerusalem scrap broth just makes so much more sense. 

So come for soup, fennel soup, carrot dill soup, tomato roasted red pepper or mushroom red lentil. We're here!

The Best Mother

When my son was born, one of my sister-in-laws said "Remember, no matter what, YOU ARE A GOOD MOTHER!". I have to repeat this to myself every waking nano second of every day and some sleeping nano seconds besides.
Today for example, I sat for what seemed like the nth time, making my way home with my screaming one year old on the bus. Screaming ceaselessly because he hadn't had his afternoon nap in his crib, screaming because he had been in a stroller for too many hours, screaming because my poor little guy was just so past his limit. All I could do was sit and offer lullabies, cuddles and bottles for the duration of 40 minutes while he screamed and flailed.  I could feel the eyes of elderly grandmothers, young school girls and boys and middle aged working class men boaring into me and accusing me of ruining their ride and not being a better mother.
In reality I know this is only in my head. People are sympathetic even if overtired piercing screams are not on their checklist of a pleasant bus ride. People don't actually think I am bad mother. Heck they don't know me. Yet haven't we all had those moments. Forgoing the afternoon nap to get the grocery shopping done moments. Ice cream for dinner moments. Pajamas to the park moments. Floor that hasn't been mopped in a few weeks moments (you know, if you can't afford a cleaning lady....).  I just want to say this on behalf of us all. I am a good mother, you're a good mother. XOXO

So there is this Buzzfeed video going around (there is ALWAYS a Buzzfeed video going around), "Here are the types of Moms you meet". It's hysterical, but also sad. I am glad there is a sense of humor about the pervasive mommy culture that exists in our times, but really? It's like World War V being a woman and being a mother sometimes. There is a constant competition and judgement. How natural are you? How long did you breastfeed? Did you breastfeed? What Are your views on breastfeeding? YOU'RE BREASTFEEDING IN PUBLIC??? Ewww please cover up.....And that's just breastfeeding.... Don't get me started on which diapers you use, when you're child hit their milestones, are you enough of a helicopter mom, is everything you feed your child free range, organic, home cooked, sugar free, gluten free, nut free.....how about just free for those of us trying to make ends meet???
Why did I just write a huge run on paragraph with improper punctuation AND why can't we just support each other as women and mothers? Something to think about while we self righteously judge our fellow woman who vaccinates or does not vaccinate her child, while we self righteously proclaim our feeding, clothing and child rearing practices to be superior. Anyway, rant over for now.

I am the queen of starting projects and not finishing them, dreaming of enterprises and not acting on them, buying things with a purpose and then fearful of using and enjoying said things. This blog for example. My intention was to write a bit every day. Not a blog about anything specific because I am no expert or even amateur at things like cooking, DIY, saving money, fashion etc. Not a parenting blog, because as a first time mommy of one, I am hardly an expert at that either, in addition to the  fact that I am just not interested in contributing to current mommy culture. And what is current mommy culture? Well, that would be a topic for another post. In short though, I prefer not share my parenting practices and preferences. I've made this choice so as not contribute to a culture where we have become judgmental instead of supportive of our fellow women and our fellow people. As my MIL said to my several months ago, however you choose to mother and love your baby is the right way. I am not sure where this blog will go, but for now I'm signing off.