The Tzniut Project 2.0: The Traditional Egal Approach

This is the second in the Women's Edition of a series called The Tzniut Project 2.0. For the Women's Edition, women from a variety of backgrounds with a variety of observances have volunteered to anonymously answer questions that I have written about their practices, people's assumptions, and more. For more information on origins the project, click here. 

Please continue to check back with The Tzniut Project to read more stories and comment abundantly! For the Men's Edition, pop over here.

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1. How do you affiliate Jewishly? Feel free to elaborate on the words people use to describe you and the words you use to describe yourself. If you feel comfortable letting the audience know the city/region where you live, please include that, too.

I “label” myself as Traditional Egalitarian. I tend to affiliate within the Conservative movement, but prefer to use "Traditional Egal" as my label more than one movement’s name. I live an area where most of my friends prefer to label themselves based on how they align versus a particular movement.

To me, traditional egalitarian means that I follow numerous Torah laws (kashrut, I am shomer Shabbat [guard Shabbat -- no tv, computer, use of money, etc]), but I also live in the modern world and believe that women can have an equal role in Judaism. So I wear a tallit at shul (services) and read Torah on a regular basis and think women can be rabbis, however I do not put on tefillin or wear a kippah daily like some women in my circle.

One reason I love my community of friends is that we each have our own way of affiliating and each have our own set of practices, but we really respect that and make each other comfortable.

2. I say modesty or tzniut … what does that mean to you? 

To me, tzniut means presenting oneself in a way that shows respect to yourself and others. This doesn’t just mean in how you dress, but how you speak and act and go about your life is also folded into tzniut.

3. Growing up, did your mother or grandmother (or any other female role models in your life) dress modestly in any way? Do you think modesty was something instilled in you by your family? Did you dress modestly growing up? 

I grew up with a mother who expected that we dress in a way that showed respect to our bodies and community. My mom and Bubbe wore pants/shorts/short sleeves/bathing suits. But as my mom would say, “It’s not how long your wear it, it’s how you wear it long.” So while some may say we did not dress modestly, for wearing pants/shorts/short sleeves, I do think we were modest dressers: no showing our stomachs, no short shorts, no super tight clothes, no low neck lines.

My mom also taught me context for how you dress. I once asked why I could wear a tankini at the pool, which showed my stomach, but if my shirt rode up reaching for something she would tell me I needed to pull it down, her response: “The beach is a place where it’s normal for that, you don’t show your midriff in the cereal aisle." There was many a disagreement in dressing rooms and if I bent over, even at home, and some skin showed from my shirt riding up I was told, “Shirt down, pants up!”

Sure, I rolled my eyes, but my mom taught me to respect myself in how I dress and that has for sure carried over into my adult life.

4. Are you married? How does your spouse feel about your choices for modest dress? Is it a dialogue or does your partner leave the mitzvah to you? 

I am not married, but when I look for a partner, I am looking for someone who respects how I define modesty and who also shows a sense of modesty for himself and for me.

5. What do you wear on a typical day? On Shabbat? If you dress differently on weekdays and Shabbat, why do you make this distinction and how? 

I teach at a modern Orthodox school, where all girls and women are required to wear knee-length (or longer) skirts and dresses. Having grown up going to a school that also required such dress, this is not hard to follow and it’s quite normal to put a skirt on each day. So, Monday through Friday, I wear skirts (and in winter I layer with leggings to keep warm); I love the knit skirts from Old Navy or the Gap since they make it easy to sit on the floor with my students. We can wear short sleeves shirts, and I tend to layer a tank top under skirts to keep my neck/chest line modest (my personal choice vs school dress code).

For Shabbat, when I go to shul, I have different skirts and tops. These are fancier and make me feel different from my weekly wardrobe and allow me to show kavod (honor) to Shabbat. Some of my shul skirts may fall above my knee. For me, I don’t see this as immodest, as it’s how I wear it (mind you it’s an inch above my knee), and I still feel respectable and appropriate. Sometimes I wear a nice dress to shul, since I don’t wear them to teach. For Shabbat, my goal is to dress up more then Monday to Friday so show the importance of the special day.

On non-school days and non-shul days, I do wear jeans when out and about. I do not feel comfortable in skinny jeans, since they are too form fitting. Often I am home on the couch in yoga pants or the like. I never leave the house (aside for the gym) in yoga pants, as I do not feel modest in such tight clothes (I am ok with it at the gym, since it’s the proper place for that attire). I live in the community in which my school is located and do see students sometimes. I am ok with them seeing me in jeans, since many of my girls and their moms also wear pants (it’s a modern Orthodox community).

6. What do you think other people (Jewish and non-Jewish) infer from your clothing and hair covering choices? Has anyone ever said anything to you outright that expresses a judgment based on your appearance? (Ex: “You don’t cover your hair or wear skirts, so why do you keep kosher?”)

When I am out and about after work, people in my area may infer I am Orthodox (skirt with leggings in a frigid Northeast winter usually is a sign of being observant Jewishly). On a weekend when I go out in jeans, I just blend into the crowd. And blending in, to me, means I am being modest, by not drawing attention to myself. If I run into the kosher market to get some meat or a kosher restaurant for a bite with friends, I am ok in pants since there are so many types of Jews in Boston and some women wear pants but still keep kosher, etc.

7. Have you ever surprised someone by dressing more or less modestly and making them rethink their stereotypes about what it means to be an observant Jew? 

I don’t think so. At least not in a way that I have ever noticed.

8. When you see someone who observes tzniut differently than you, what are your initial thoughts? How do you deal with them? Is there any particular aspect of tzniut that you see other people observing or practicing that you struggle with? 

I was raised in a house that did teach me to accept everyone and their practices and not judge one person because they do something differently then me. I think the beauty of modern Judaism is that there are so many ways for people to observe the laws in ways that keep them engaged. Granted, I personally cannot imagine covering my arms down to my wrists all the time, or only wearing floor length skirts, or even covering my hair when I get married. But, that is how some people feel close to Hashem and I respect their choices to do so just as I hope the respect my level of tzniut as it is how I feel close to Hashem.

What Does Modern Orthodoxy Mean?

What. A. Shabbat.

I don't know what it was about this Shabbat, but it felt good. I felt uplifted and in-step with myself. Despite the noise of the random visitors there for simchas of people I've never met or seen at shul, despite the wind and a bit of rain, this Shabbat was a bright spot on my Shabbatot here in Denver. I got invited out for lunch (mad props to Mr. and Mrs. L who also are of the vegetarian variety) and got to listen to the illustrious and hilarious Rabbi Dani Rapp talk.

If you've never experienced Rabbi Rapp, he's in the NY area and you need to find some time to go and listen to him. He provides humor with depth, and during his time here in Colorado for the YU Summer of Learning, I've found myself waking up more and more.

Tonight, for example, at seudat shlishit (third meal), he was discussing Modern Orthodoxy (subtitled "The Final Frontier"). He used three classic biblical narratives to give depth and understanding to what exactly it means to be Modern and Orthodox, the Tower of Babel and Yosef and his brothers among them. (I know, I should remember the third, but it's escaping me.)

Regarding the Tower of Babel, I heard a take on the narrative that -- despite my vast education on the topic both religiously and academically -- I hadn't considered. Rabbi Rapp cited Nehama Leibowitz when saying that we sometimes need to learn Torah like Rashi did -- without Rashi. (*giggle snarfle giggle*) The common narrative that we know isn't what's really in the text. That being said, Rabbi Rapp told a story of a people who built a tower as high as the sky in order to watch over the community -- to make sure no one left. This people gathered in a valley, speaking one language, and realized that they had a good thing going: homogeneity. They decided it was a good way of life, so they built the tower to keep people in, to keep them in line. HaShem said, whoa, folks, this isn't how the world was meant to work! Spread to the corners of the earth, inhabit my creation! Thus, bavel -- confusion, multiple languages, and a people spread out. A people living among other people.

Now the story of Yosef and his brothers also had a quirk that I hadn't noticed before. It goes something like this: Yosef had a dream. He wanted to go out, to be as he was but to show the world, to spread HaShem and their way of life around. To be a light unto the nations. His brothers, on the other hand, thought things were good, that Yosef was nuts, that the internal culture they had was solid. So they sold Yosef, bid him good luck in living in the "outside world" and maintaining who he was. And guess what? Yosef proved them so wrong. When the brothers come to Yosef, their shame is from knowing that his philosophy was right -- not that they'd sold him. Yosef knew something his brothers didn't: We're meant to be out in the world, living with other nations and growing in Yiddishkeit.

So what does this all mean? How did Rabbi Rapp amazingly tie it back into what Modern Orthodoxy means for us today? These narratives are two examples where HaShem was proving to the Israelites/Jewish people that we're meant to be a people among the nations. A light unto the nations, if you will. To that point, "Modern" in Modern Orthodoxy doesn't mean less or leniency or even that a Modern Orthodox Jew is living in the modern, outside world. No, it means MORE. Why? Because, like Yosef, when you are put in a position where the world is not homogenous, you must try harder and be more committed to living a Torah-observant life. It takes more strength to live among the nations and not to become one of them, but rather to hold your head high and serve as an example -- a light -- unto the nations of the world of what determination and commitment look like.

Wow. Right?

In the process of the day, Rabbi Rapp was able to make passing mentions of the ASIFA, Whole Foods, 14'ers, the Xbox, and so very much more. That's a talent -- engaging Torah with pop culture woven in. Some rabbis try really hard to make it happen. Rabbi Rapp did it, and it's left a lasting impact on me. After his shiur this evening I told him that he's very "Tweetable," so it's hard to listen to him on Shabbat. That's the sign of a good rabbi, folks.

If you're jonesing for a bit of learning, check out YU Torah and search for Rabbi Rapp there to hear some of his shiurim from his summer here in Denver -- many of which are on conversion, believe it or not. (Oh, did I mention he's an RCA Beth Din member?)

A Response: Conversion's a Racket

Okay. Let's try this again.

My last post created a huge ruckus in my community -- such is the drama of being a very public blogger in a new community. I don't blog anonymously, and I don't have any misconceptions about my Twitter feed and blog being accessible by anyone, anywhere. That's part of what I love about what I write, it's open access. So the blog post was commented on by a community member, then it made it to one rabbi, then another, then community members and so on. The offense taken, I think, regarded the tone of the blog post as well as the misunderstanding that I was calling out or bashing the Denver community in particular, which I wasn't.

I had wanted to wait to post on the topic until I felt like I was in a calm, even place where I would be eloquent (as I'm known) but also pointed and direct, saying "this is what's going on, and this is what needs to change." However, it didn't come out that way. Why? After speaking with a rabbi friend on Twitter very briefly about the problems in the community with conversion and what I consider (after all, this is my blog and it is full of my opinions) extortion, he said the following:

Well, you don't have to go through it!

That simple quote, which horrified me -- should I not care about those who do have to suffer financial loss or a lost neshama? -- paired with the constantly echoing in my mind words of Rav Tarfon

"It is not your responsibility to finish the work [of perfecting the world], but you are not free to desist from it either" (Pirkei Avot 2:16).

said one thing to me: you must speak now, it is your duty, it is your mission, it is your work. I get emails daily from people in-process, done with the process, leaving the process, and so on who have stories about acceptance, the process, and more that would make most people's skin crawl. An oft-said thing to me by born Jews is, "If I hadn't been born Jewish, I don't know if I would choose it." 

Because of the hoops you must jump through? The pressure? The issues of acceptance? The costs? The oppression? The bullying by other converts? 

My passion and fervor for this issue of extortion in conversion -- no matter what branch, no matter where you are geographically -- is my work. It's my responsibility when it comes to repairing the Jewish world. Someone has to stand up, someone has to say something, to do something. 

My biggest beef with the Denver process is the cost. Plain and simple. Why fly in a rabbi from Queens and make the candidates foot that bill? Why not use a more local rabbi? Classes are necessary for studying and conversion to Orthodox Judaism, and I'll be honest -- I'm more than happy to devote two to three hours a week to teaching and training converts in the basics of Judaism and conversion; after all, I've been there, I've done that, and I can lay things out from a perspective of the convert and what you need to know before the formal process. I also think I can give something a book-learning class can't -- personal perspective, stories, passion, fervor, dedication, devotion. The heart of Judaism, not just the facts and the "you must be able to say and do this when you convert." But I'm not a rabbi. Does that change things? Can an Orthodox convert to Judaism properly train converts? I think so, yes. But when one system has a monopoly on the process, saying "you must do x, y, z, and you must do it with this person," that does not provide options, it provides a monopoly. 

Because I know, at the very depths of my soul, what Orthodox converts go through before, during, and after their conversions, I know that this is my place. I counsel, I help, I calm the fears of those who have no one else to turn to, and for that, I feel like HaShem has granted me great patience, understanding, and love. 

Converts are coming home. They're bringing their neshamot home, finally. They should be overwhelmed by the weight of the mitzvot, not the costs to let their neshamot onto the front stoop of Judaism. 

The Tzniut Project 11: It's a Lifestyle Choice

This is the eleventh in a multi-part series called The Tzniut Project. Women from a variety of backgrounds with a variety of observances have volunteered to anonymously answer questions that I have written about their practices, people's assumptions, and more. For more information on the project, click here. Please continue to check back with The Tzniut Project to read more stories and comment abundantly!

Note: This post is contributed by a reader. 


1. How do you affiliate Jewishly? Feel free to elaborate on the words people use to describe you and the words you use to describe yourself. 
I would define myself as modern orthodox. I grew up in a modern orthodox community where most women didn't cover their hair, and wore pants, and went to the community modern orthodox yeshivas and high school. I went to a secular, ivy league college. I actually cover my hair, but still wear pants, and T-shirts and at times dresses/skirts that are a little bit higher than my knees (definitely not mini though)

2. Growing up, did your mother or grandmother dress modestly in any way? Do you think modesty was something instilled in you by your family? Did you dress modestly growing up? 
My mom wears pants and T-shirts and does not cover her hair. She never dressed immodestly, although at times she can wear things that are a bit lower cut and definitely skirts above the knees. She also wears long "Bermuda" shorts in the summer. She was always cautious that I not dress "slutty," which meant, in her opinion, very revealing tight tops and very short skirts. However, growing up I did wear short shorts in camp and tank tops as well as sleeveless sundresses.

3. Are you married? How does your spouse feel about your choices for modest dress? Is it a dialogue or does your partner leave the mitzvah to you? 
I am married. My husband actually prefers women to dress modestly. His opinion isn't necessarily based in halachic principle, rather he cares more about me showing too much to other people, and prefers this only to be for him. He actually really dislikes that I wear pants, again, not because of any halachic reasoning, but because he doesn't like the way women look in pants and prefers me to wear skirts. Before we dated, I definitely wore things a lot more low cut, and I wore pants more often. Now that we are married I wear much higher tank tops under my clothes, as well as higher long-sleeve undershirts and try to buy clothes I know he will like. In terms of covering my hair, he always thought it was my choice and would support whatever decision I chose.

4.What would you wear on a typical day? On Shabbos? If you dress differently on weekdays and Shabbos, why do you make this distinction and how? 
I actually work at a religious institution so I wear skirts below my knees, and 3/4-length-sleeved shirts with a high neck everyday. I also have to wear socks or stockings with my shoes. On Shabbos, I tend to wear fancier outfits, also more indicative of my style, so a lot of them have short sleeves or v-necks where I can wear tank tops that don't cover my collarbone. Generally on Saturday nights and Sundays I wear pants or short dresses with tights/leggings underneath. If I didn't work at my current job, I would most likely wear pants more often during the week. My Shabbos clothes are always more fun than my weekday clothes, and I always try to dress up more than I do during the week, by putting on more makeup.

5.What do you think other people infer from your clothing and hair covering choices? Has anyone ever said anything to you outright that expresses a judgment based on your appearance? (Ex: “You don’t cover your hair or wear skirts, so why do you keep kosher?”) 
I'm not really sure what people think. Walking with my husband, while we are on vacation, I cover my hair and he wears a kippah but I always think people are confused when I wear pants. However, I actually have a lot of resentment from my mom about covering my hair since I chose to do something that she doesn't do. She often comments about the way my sheitels look (in her opinion bad) and asks me to uncover my hair the minute I walk into her home.

6. Have you ever surprised someone by dressing more or less modestly and making them rethink their stereotypes about what it means to be an observant Jew? 
When I was younger I was extremely active in NCSY, and I spent alot of time with Jewish non-affiliated kids who went to public school. I always wanted them to see me as a more religious version of themselves. A lot of times people can view tzniut as constricting or restricting, but tzniut is really in the eyes of the beholder. Just because you choose to dress more modestly does not mean you cant be trendy, and it doesn't mean your sleeves have to be past your wrists. So I think having me as a reference point was a little less scary to them as lets say someone who was completely covered up all the time.

7. When you see someone who observes tzniut differently than you, what are your initial thoughts? How do you deal with them? 
I try not to judge someone based on how they are dressed. I have many family members who are more religious than I am and appreciate the way that they dress, just as they appreciate the way I dress without judging me. I always feel bad for people who wear tights and long sleeves in the summer, it can get super hot! But I respect that they dress the way that they do and hope their shirts are the breezy kind so at least they aren't so uncomfortable.

8. I say modesty or tzniut … what does that mean to you? 
Tzniut to me is a lifestyle choice. It means being modest in appearance but also in personality. I was always taught not to be too loud, or outlandish, or even incredibly flirty with my personality because that isn't necessarily being a modest person. I really feel like if you let your inner modesty show, that even if you do wear pants you can be considered a modest or tzniut individual.

9. Anything else you’d like to add about your choices, experiences, and more! 
Personally, know that wearing pants and covering your hair are two completely separate mitzvahs within the tzniut realm. In terms of wearing pants, I tend to wear less tight fitting jeans or pants and prefer the baggier, or gaucho style believing that to be a bit more tzniut than the traditional tight jeans. After learning about hair covering in school I always felt a great urge to cover my hair and believed in the mitzvah. Many of my more religious family members were surprised that I wanted to do it, and my sisters, when I got married each bet how long I would cover it for (three months and six months respectively), and I definitely have surpassed those numbers being married for two years, and I still really appreciate and believe in the mitzvah.

The Tzniut Project

After hitting up several stores today for what I thought was called a "pencil skirt," I was corrected by some of my Twitter friends and realized what I really was looking for was a "straight skirt." All I know is that the straight skirts I have I have outgrown (even though I haven't lost weight) and they sag on me in weird areas (maybe I bought them thinking I was bigger than I was?). I love them, and I got them super cheap from Lands End, but I haven't had luck finding anything else like them. I suppose I could always get them tailored, but, wel, that costs money. (I know; I should learn how to use a sewing machine.)

Ahh to be a modestly dressed woman in search of light, summer-appropriate, tzniut skirts that won't break the bank and will withstand the hot temperatures of the U.S. and Israel. Woe, oh woe is me.

I posted something to Facebook a few days ago, and I received a surprising amount of emails and Facebook messages from women hoping to participate, so I'm stoked about what one responder called The Tzniut Project. What's this mean? I want to start a series of Q&A posts with Jewish women who observe tzniut (modesty) and the stereotypes they face, the experiences they have, and everything about what it means to dress one way and have people perceive you in their own way. You know, the classic frum (observant) woman who wears pants and short sleeves and doesn't cover her hair but would kill her kid for flipping the TV on on Shabbos or eating anything that bears a Triangle-K hechsher. We all have our preconceived notions about the way people dress and how it reflects who they are spiritually or religiously, and I want to start a dialogue about it. (This also plays to a post I wrote last week that got some questioning replies.)

Are you interested in participating? Shoot me an email and the questions will be on their way. There are about 10 questions and you can take your time answering them. This is going to be an ongoing series, and I will be doing minimal editing (only for my OCD grammar concerns) -- and most importantly, all posts will remain anonymous.

For all the posts, click here!