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:)