The Votes Are In!

Well, there's a clear winner in the Shavout teaching/learning query, and that winner is Rachav. Coming in at a close second is Qohelet, followed by Ima Shalom and then Tobit (Comedy Absurdum).

Really, no one is curious about Tobit and/or Tobit and Herman the Jew? Yes, I know Tobit isn't a canonical book for us Jews, but good lord is it a Jewish book. If you haven't read it lately, sit down and take a gander. Or email me and I'll send you a copy of either of the papers.

Thanks for voting, friends!

The Road Diverges, Where's Chavi Going?

I'm worried that I've lost hope in the future (or the present) of mankind. All it took was a small stack of exams given to me to grade, and I was scratching my head, shaking my head, opening my mouth in utter surprise. All I could think was, "This isn't rocket science, folks," as I marked down points that would make even a regular ole D student cry. I mean, these exams? They're bad. They're really bad. And as I scribbled notes into the margins -- the same idea about 20 times, that is -- I began to wonder, to really wonder, if I could handle being a professor, knowing that the words that I might speak on a daily basis would be sucked into ears, processed in some absolutely mindless filter, only to be regurgitated out on paper like this.

Ever since I returned from Middlebury, I've been thinking, reconsidering, where I'm going. My desire to teach hasn't changed, don't get me wrong, but I am trying to figure out what's practical and possible for me at this point in my academic journey. I started out thinking modern, after all, my big-time term paper in my undergrad was on Ulysses S. Grant and the Jews. I slowly moved backward, thinking about Rashi and his daughters, considering Medieval Jewry. I read books and more books and the text that discusses the rabbi who decreed that if you're yawning in shul you better cover your mouth had me delighted. And then I came here to Connecticut and I found myself drifting even further back, to the Talmud, the rabbis, and the Second Temple Period as we know it today. But as the past year showed me, I'm so far behind it might take me years to catch up. In a perfect world, I'd be reading-fluent in Aramaic, Greek, French, German, and of course Biblical Hebrew. I'd read the texts in their originals, because that's what a scholar does. I vowed after realizing that the author of Rashi's Daughters didn't do any of her own legwork that I wouldn't be like that -- I'd work from scratch forward. But the reality? It might take me years.

I keep telling myself that I have all the time in the world. Tuvia has granted me that time, knowing that I want to follow my heart and really throw myself into that which I am passionate about. He's patient and kind like that. And in reality, I could probably toil away at school for the rest of my life studying those languages and working the texts until I'm blue in the face. Even if I don't pursue academic Talmudic work or what have you, I'll still do that in the outside world -- after all, my inquiring mind doesn't let me sit still on the sidelines when it comes to my Orthodox Judaism. I seek, read, and learn.

But the reality of the situation is that I'm reconsidering my situation. Life is a series of reconsiderations, you know. And after Middlebury, and even before, I was considering a future in Hebrew language. My time in Middlebury allowed me to gain a fluency I couldn't have dreamed of. But it was just a start, and much like my hungry neshama, my hungry brain wants more. Speaking Hebrew feeds my mind, my heart, and my soul. It's like I'm speaking in the voice of generations past and future. It empowers me and it makes me happy and excited.

And for all intents and purposes, it's practical and doable. At least, I think so.

So I sent an email off to my morah (teacher) from the summer, to see what she thinks and whether she has any advice. I would continue on with a PhD, but it would be in language -- Hebrew language. I'd rehash all the grammar rules I've forgotten (from English, that is; who can tell me what a past participle is!?). I hate to say it but although I've got mad editing skills, when it comes to the vocab and the nitty gritty, even the best editors are lacking. I want to perfect my language skills so that I can take what I know to a university or day school level and INSPIRE people. Inspire them to use and love the living language of the Jewish people. And furthermore, at least with a language, there are rules and measures and styles and words that mean exactly what they mean. I don't have to explain themes or devices to students. Language is like mathematics -- 99 percent of the time, there is really one right answer.

And maybe, once I've got that under wraps, I'll turn back to my dreams of being a Talmud chacham.

Of course, I want to be a mother, too. A mother, a wife, a community member, a shul member. A friend and a confidant. There are many things I want to be, and I find that as time goes on, my desires change along with my needs. What the soul needs to be comforted changes as new people come into our lives and also when we realize we need to reassess a situation. Unfortunately for Tuvia, being Morah Chavi the Hebrew teacher might not be exceedingly lucrative, but if there's one thing my father taught me, it's to do what makes me happy.

I've learned that, in life, you can't waste your time on the things that don't excite you. If it isn't one of the first things you think about when you wake up and when you go to sleep -- positively, with absolute excitement and eagerness -- then maybe you should reconsider where you are and where you're going. Life's to short to waste your time and energy. As Qohelet tells us,

So enjoy what you have. (Note: Many read Qohelet/Ecclesiastes as a text about the futility of life. I do not read it this way. I read Qohelet as an old man, full of wisdom, relating to us how to live one's life in order to gain the most from it. To seek happiness in all things and to not toil over that which is wasteful or futile. Rather, seek happiness in all that you do, here, in this life!)

Papers, Cards, and Wishes.

I've spent the past two days, hidden away in the Poconos, hammering out 30 pages of two papers -- one on the Golden Calf, the other on Qohelet. The calf paper has been turned out in 19 pages and I have at least five more to write. Qohelet isn't even halfway composed and it's already at 11 pages. I have about a week and a half to finish them, though in reality I only have about a week considering the next two days I'm going to be floating around New Jersey for Thanksgiving festivities and then comes Shabbat. I did, though, happen to get consoled by the falling snow this morning, which was a beautiful thing to wake up to in a little cabin-esque house in the woods of Pennsylvania. I'm pretty proud of my achieved compositions, not to mention the parve chocolate chip cookies I made and the dinner that's currently roasting in the oven. It has been a productive 48 hours.

The moment my papers are done, I'm going to settle in to composing Chanukah and Holiday cards. I know a lot of people don't send cards out anymore, but I do, because I firmly believe that people love real mail, especially this time of year. Yes, I tend to send out the form letter with the updates and news on my life (and this year there has been a LOT), but I also like to include plenty of personal notes on the card itself. So, if you would like to receive one of my dazzling Chanukah (if that's your flavor) or Holiday (if that's your other flavor) cards this holiday season, please e-mail me your mailing address! You can get to me by clicking on the "Contact" link at the top of the page, or by using chaviva at kvetchingeditor dot com.

In the meantime, if you're in the gift-giving mood, check out my Wish List on Amazon.com. Yes, it's all a bunch of Judaica books, but, you know, that's how I roll and books are my most favorite thing.




After papers, finals, and card-making are finalized, I head off to Israel on December 17 for 10 days of exciting trekking. I finally received the itinerary and cellphone rental information via email today, and it looks like there's going to be quite a bit of free time and independent dinner outings. I know at least one person on my bus, and I'm guessing (and hoping) that the rest of the people on the bus will be of the older persuasion (man I'm old and crotchety when it comes to college kids, heh). In fact, at this time next month, my trip will almost be over! My intent to stay an extra week won't come to fruition, as there are far too many external factors at work that just doesn't make it possible right now. Thus, I'm going to look into options for studying in Israel in the summer and see what I can pull up.

Be well, and Happy Thanksgiving!

Qohelet (a note to self)

Qohelet (Ecclesiastes) is an observatory lament of the absurdity of this life, promoting a resignation -- albeit not negatively -- to having no control over one's own existence or destiny and an enjoyment of the pleasures of life (which G-d and G-d alone is responsible for having provided) while steadfastly upholding and fulfilling the commandments of G-d. 

(Note: all work is futile, as G-d either will or will not provide, but enjoying that which G-d does provide is necessary and it seems all there is. Also, man's destiny is not in his own hands, but in those of G-d, whether man is wicked or foolish or full of wisdom, so dwelling is perhaps a folly, but rather we should live as simply as possible.)

It seems like a very Jewish thing to me -- live in the here and now, not to dwell on an afterlife which is essentially nameless and directionless (thinks of a girl in class today asking about the eternal soul/everlasting life; think: Christian concept). But the essential call to fulfill the commandments because that's all there is to do and G-d has already decided the fate of man, no matter his persuasion, seems a little ... frustrating.

Anyone who has done research/work/study whether religiously or academically on Qohelet, please feel free to let me know if you agree or disagree. But from just a few readings of the work, as well as a bit of reading by Michael V. Fox on his analysis of various theories, this is what I've gathered is the gist of Qohelet (contrary to popular theories that it is a gloom-and-doom expose on the tragedy of life and the welcoming of death).