Where Do We Go From Here?

I know you're all waiting, waiting to hear about what happened to six years of blog content that used to be here, waiting to hear whether I'm going to continue blogging about Jewish topics that have made me the blogger and Yid that I am today.

The truth is, I don't know what I plan to do. The content still exists online, but it's all private, so good luck finding it. So far, two people have written very different posts about my situation and what came to pass last week. There's the post on Chicago Carless called "Orthodox Blogger Bullies" and there's another up on Mekubal called "Chaviva/Kvetching editor: My Response."

Now, I want to say up front that I didn't ask or encourage either of these posts to happen, but both of these men had kind, honest, and powerful things to say. If you haven't read them yet, I encourage you to do so. I think Mekubal's insight into who I am and what the Orthodox community did wrong when addressing my current life situation and choices is a lesson from which we all can learn.

I've received more than 100 emails and Facebook messages from people apologizing for what I've been through here on the blog and pleading with me to reconsider hiding and no longer sharing my story with the world. I was even surprised that my older brother -- who, I'll admit, I haven't always gotten along with -- spoke out on my Facebook wall about me giving in to the "haters." Coworkers counseled me, friends on ROI counseled me, and, most importantly, Taylor listened as I explained all that was happening and why exactly I was being treated the way I was.

Should I let a few people dictate my choices in life? Of course not. What if those people have the power to destroy me? Well, that shouldn't matter. The only thing I can control is how I react to a situation and how I allow myself to feel afterward.

There was something different about this particular instance of Chaviva-bashing, however. I can't explain what it was, but there was something that struck me as particularly painful. Even when I received a lot of criticism and painful comments back when unveiling that I was even dating a non-Jew, I handled it like I've handled every situation like this. But this time?

I broke.

Being told that you're everything that's wrong with conversion, that you're the poster child for why people don't want converts, being told you're the worst thing to happen to Judaism ... it's hard. It's beyond hard. Judaism saved me from myself, it saved me from a dark, dark place that I was in. Every time I discovered a new mitzvah or way to express myself Jewishly, it felt like crawling out of darkness.

After everything I went through over the past two years, I have struggled to find a way to express myself Jewishly in the way that I always have, to crawl out of the darkness that nearly drove me to suicide near the end of my marriage, and that process was criticized and shat upon by people I once considered friends.

And in that moment, in reading those words by Erik, Bethany, and Skylar, I felt myself drift back into that darkness. That place of loneliness and sadness that existed before I let my Jewish neshama shine through. I felt myself a stain on existence of Judaism. A harbinger of pain and suffering.

I never gave myself a position of power, and I never asked for it. That others give me that power says more about them, than me, I think. And it's something I've realized over the past few weeks. Yes, I understand that I'm in a position where individuals look up to me and seek me out with questions and curiosities -- I'm not your average convert to Judaism, and that story is what I've always committed to sharing. I make no money off this blog, I have no ads, I am committed to storytelling, largely for my own sake.

Meeting my heroes of the Stuff You Should Know podcast
gave me some peace of mind in Austin. 

In those moments of hateful speech, I wanted to disappear. I figured, if I just "go away" ... I won't have to break up with Taylor, who I adore, and I won't have to continue bringing harm onto the Jewish community. I was ready to let myself go.

Luckily, I left for Austin and re-entrenched myself in the world of technology and innovation. I found myself among people like me, people who see the power of technology and social interaction via the web. Between that, all of the emails, Facebook messages, blog posts, blog comments, texts, Tweets, and everything else, I felt perplexed. Private versus public, Chaviva versus Kvetching Editor, Amanda versus Chaviva ...

Listen: I don't know what I'm going to do with all of those posts. Yes, I could create an archive and turn off all comments, but I don't think there's a way to delete all the existing comments, and I don't necessarily want to delete them all anyway. But do I want those posts out there? Do I want six years of my life to be available for scrutiny or praise? Do I want to continue blogging about my Jewish experiences? I don't know. I almost feel like it's impossible to not blog about my Jewish experiences.

I am, after all, a Jew.

They can't be divided. Jew, Woman, Girlfriend, Blogger, Educator, Social Media Ninja ...

Just stay tuned, if you will, and we'll see where this goes. Won't you?

Ankletastrophe 2012!

Agh! I'm back in Colorado, but man what it took to get here ...

The last night of SXSW Interactive, we were on the prowl for food when the Austin sidewalks attacked me, my left ankle rolled under me, my right knee hit the pavement, and the searing pain began. And then? Well, then I got really queasy and felt like I was going to pass out. And THEN? Well, I started shaking.

Luckily, I had the ROI Community crew with me and people went into the bar I collapsed in front of, got ice, a first-aid kid, and a cold, wet towel. In no time, our driver was there, and two of the burly fellows (thank you Micah and David!) lifted me up off the sidewalk, deposited me in the car, and I was off with Jen (our fearless leader, the unicorn) to the Emergency Room.

You know, I'd thought -- my entire life -- that I'd never end up in an ER, and if I did, it would be because of my 80-year-old man knees. When I started physical therapy for my knees years ago, the PT commented on how strong my ankles were, so this took me as a surprise, of course.

Luckily, the South Austin Hospital ER was pretty slow, so I got in and out in two hours. The verdict? A badly sprained ankle. "But, there could be a hairline fracture, it's hard to say," said the Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure-style doctor. (Seriously, he didn't really help me feel confident about what was happening with my swollen, pained ankle.

I got a brace and was sent on my way; crutches would have cost extra and the entire thing was Out of Network ... so ... expenses? No thanks. I might have to take up a collection, so, prepare your wallets.

The only nice thing about the entire experience was getting to spend some awesome bonding time with Jen and getting to zip through security and nab a bulk-head seat on the plane. Yes, I hopped into a wheelchair and Jen wheeled me around the airport until her plane took off (seriously, thank you Jen). Then, I was on my own. I now know why wheelchair-using folks have such big guns -- it hurts, badly, to roll around in a wheelchair.

Luckily, I had a doctor's visit already scheduled today and during that visit I asked my new doc what she thought of the ankle situation. Her response shocked me: Stop limping around, put on a shoe with good support, and start moving around on it. Why? So that my muscles don't seize up and not heal right. I still need to ice and elevate when I'm resting, however.

Sigh.

This is good for the impatient side of me, but for the fear-of-medical-stuff side of me, it makes me super nervous.

Have you had a bad sprain? What was your treatment like?

I did like what Jen had to say about the entire experience. In a nutshell, she said that perhaps this was a sign from HaShem that I need to slow down. I'll admit, the past two years of my life have been a whirlwind of exhaustion emotionally and physically, recent events included. Maybe I do need to chill out, take a break, and stop rushing.

Now, if only I could fund a one-month trip to the mountains of Colorado to work on a book and really chill out, right?

Austin, Austin, Texas!

Oh baby, it's cold outside! And inside. In Austin, Texas, no less.

I've been here since early yesterday afternoon, and I've spent a measly couple of hours at SXSW Interactive so far. Why? Shabbat, of course! Luckily, tomorrow I fully intend on being the very first person in line at registration -- coffee in tow!

There are three solid days of the festival left, and I plan on doing as much schmoozing, drinking, partying, connecting, and schwag-grabbing as possible. If you're here at SXSW Interactive, let me know, just tweet me @TheChaviva -- if you're lucky I'll buy you a coffee.

Also: Mad thanks to @ROICommunity for putting all of us up in a beautiful house in the hills of Austin and for helping those of us who are here be here. 

SXSW 2011: Vote!

CLICK AND VOTE FOR MY PANEL!

Okay folks, I called upon you last year to help vote-in my friend's panel for SXSW Interactive -- a gigantic tech and social media festival held over five days in March in Austin, Texas, leading up to the actual and original SXSW Music festival. This year, I've submitted a panel because I saw how successful and powerful our being at SXSW Interactive was, and I want to develop our ideas more succinctly this year. Thus, I submitted the following and I really really really need you guys to log in to the site and vote for the panel:

Jewish Synergy: Social Media and the New Community

In the 21st century, religion has found its way to the internet via social media platforms like Twitter and Facebook, making the ability to discover new avenues of belief, observance, and involvement in entirely new ways. The question is: Why are some more successful than others in embracing and executing this form of digitizing an ages-old religion full of individuals, organizations, associations, events, synagogues, schools and more? How does one convince reluctant groups and individuals to embrace Social Media? And, perhaps most importantly, how can those who hail Social Media develop and grow this new global Jewish community that exists almost exclusively online? This panel will extend efforts made on the Judaism 2.0 panel from 2010, and it will focus on the benefit of Social Media in synergizing the broad Jewish and Israeli communities through the wires and waves of the internet!

So please, please, please vote for this panel. I'm excited to have the opportunity to attend SXSW Interactive again, and I think that this very-focused approach can really help move some mountains for organizations and individuals in the Jewish community. If the panel gets picked, hopefully I can convince some daring souls to head up the panel and really make the conversation lively and awesome. 

If you didn't notice it up top there ... 

CLICK AND VOTE FOR MY PANEL!

A Pro-Convert, Pre-Shabbos Anecdote

Shabbat cometh, so I thought I'd share a cute little "yay convert!" anecdote with everyone. ready?

While in Austin, standing in line at the kosher grill at H-E-B, a little old man, who also is a professor at the university there, turned to me, looked at my SXSW Interactive nametag, and said, "Chaviva? Are you Israeli?"

I responded that I was not, and left it at that.

He replied, "Are your parents Israeli? Such a weird name to give an American girl!" I responded, hesitatingly, "Nope, I chose this name myself, actually." The little old man grinned broadly, saying, "Ahh! A convert! I love converts!"

At first I wasn't entirely sure how to react. It was funny to me how typically I anticipate people experiencing my "I'm a convert" moment through asking me where I'm from (Nebraska, there are Jews there?!) or where I was bat mitzvahed (no where). Never before, although perhaps it will become a more regular occurrence, has my name become the topic for my "coming out." Although, now that I think about it, Chaviva is a very Israeli name. In the U.S. the names Ahava and Aviva are much more popular to express the same idea.

So the little old man went on to tell me stories about the converts he knows, how he "adopted" their children, how authentic and genuine the converts he knows are. He was giddy with love for gerim! So I stood, smiled, nodded, and was pleased to experience the happier side of convert acceptance.

Later, as I sat eating with a friend and two Israelis we'd bumped into, the little old man came over and said something along the lines of, "It was good to meet you all. But it was especially good to meet her (pointing at me); SHE is something very special."

This left me glowing, feeling special, and the Israeli guests puzzled as to what was going on (they didn't know, of course, what the little old man was so excited about). Surrounded by Israelis and kosher food and friends, I felt utterly loved and, as the little old man said, special.

Shabbat shalom, friends!

Welcome to Austin, TX ... and Smoking Food!

Check out my delicious La Briute meal a'cookin! It's smokin!

UPDATE: Okay, so it tasted just like the Sizzlin Cuisines version. Listen, beggars can't be choosers, so I'm cool with this. It tasted pretty good after having eaten bagged chips all day. And the cookies that come with it? MAGNIFICENT! And now? I'm off!

If Jews Ruled the World ...

It occurred to me, just a few days ago, long after I booked my flight to SXSW Interactive, that big Music, Interactive, and Film festival in Austin, Texas every year around this time, that Daylight Savings is going to rain on my parade. My flight, at 6:45 a.m. on Sunday, will really be more like 5:45 a.m. on Sunday. This means that I'll have to be at the airport around 5 a.m., which is really more like 4 a.m. This means I'll probably, if I'm lucky, get something along the lines of four hours of sleep, before flying off to three days of interactive, social media awesomeness and geekatude in one of the nation's greatest (and most humid) cities.

Sigh. So much for planning well.

In a perfect world, with the time change, there would be more late motzei Shabbos flights. Then again, "if only Jews ruled the world!" Yeah, if we ruled the world there'd be late flights everywhere! Especially time zones behind the East Coast, because, well, they're behind us in time. Wait, don't Jews run the world? Isn't that the rumor/stereotype?

All I'm going to say is, if that rumor were true, I'd be flying to SXSW on Saturday night, not Sunday morning at the tush-crack of dawn.

For those of you planning to be at SXSWi, check out the Judaism 2.0 panel at 3:30 p.m. on Tuesday. Come and partake in the goodness hosted by myself and Mordechai, and meet the awesomest of attendees, including Leah Jones and others. Also, if you're in the Austin area but NOT attending SXSW, let me know and maybe we can do a meetup.