The Timeline Shifts: When Did I Know?

At the beginning of 2011, I started analyzing my journey to Judaism in this post, trying to figure out exactly when I knew. People ask me that all the time: How did you know? When did you know? As if you can pinpoint a moment in time when it suddenly arrived: My neshama is Jewish!

Alas, it isn't that easy. It's steady, gradual, and after years, it becomes a haze of memory. I always feel like it was Spring semester of 2003 that I began my foray into Judaism, with an Intro to Judaism course, but clearly it came before that. How do I know? I just found this in a journal from 2003:

Weird, right? Super weird. January 2, 2003, I knew something. Clearly, the talk I remember having with my friend that made me go out and buy Anita Diamant's "Choosing a Jewish Life" must have happened in Fall semester 2002.

Can you pinpoint the moment you knew?

The Tzniut Project 19: Keeping My Thoughts Modest

This is the nineteenth 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 origins 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.

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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.

Most of my family is Conservative and Orthodox, but I was brought up Reform. However, I have been attending Conservative and Orthodox shuls for about three years now, and based on my observance and beliefs, most would probably say I’m Conservadox. I feel like I have all of the major Jewish affiliations somewhere in my beliefs: I love the progressiveness of Reform, the Torah interpretation of Conservative, and the traditions of Orthodox. I’m also very interested in Kabbalah, but I wouldn’t identify myself as Kabbalistic.

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?
I suppose I’m still “growing up” -- I’m only 18. My immediate family never put a huge emphasis on modesty for religious purposes. My mother dresses extremely immodest by any standards, especially for her age. I think that has had an influence on me to dress even more modest. I have extended family who dress very traditionally Jewish modest: no pants, hair coverings, no collarbones, etc.

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 not married. I plan to cover my hair when I get married. I haven’t been in a relationship where I’ve been pressured to dress more modestly; in fact, it has been quite the opposite!

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 do not live in a very Jewish area, I actually live in what they call the “Bible Belt” of my state. My shul is an hour-and-a-half away, and although there are many Jewish areas around there, I live in what is essentially a farm town, and I attended a Catholic high school up until recently. This definitely has influenced what I wear day-to-day.

To school, I would usually wear our uniform polos and a knee-length skirt. Where I live it gets extremely cold in the winter, and because we weren’t allowed to wear leggings under our skirts, I’d wear slacks or harem pants in the winter to school. I would wear a cardigan over my polo at school. At home, I usually wear a t-shirt and comfortable (loose-fitting) pants. There are no men present in my household so it gives my mom, sisters and I some more choices. Outside of the home, on weekends, I usually wear dresses (I love them!) that are knee-length and if they aren’t elbow length, I wear a cardigan. In the winter, I wear loose-fitting jeans or harem pants or leggings under my dress/skirt. My job doesn’t allow us to wear skirts or dresses (I work in retail, and our uniform is a certain color top with khaki or black pants), but I can usually get away with harem pants or very loose pants. My employers don’t really understand my modesty beliefs, but I have to put up with it for the time being in order to pay for college next year.

On Shabbos, I definitely love to dress up! I feel since that Shabbos is such a holy day, we should honor it as such. I don’t think it’s vital to dress up for Shabbos, since some people do not have the means to do so, and Shabbos is really all about G-d when it comes down to it. But given the chance, I take it! I usually wear a skirt, a nice blouse and a cardigan. I absolutely love fashion, so putting together a nice outfit for Shabbos is actually one of the highlights of my week! :)

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?”)
People who don’t know that I’m Jewish have probably given me the most judgment (i.e., “You’re crazy for wearing such long sleeves in the summer!”). Like I said, the area I live in is far from Jewish, but aside from long sleeves and high necklines, I don’t think I stick out too much. My town is very Christian, so most people here dress pretty conservatively anyways. The hardest thing has probably been during summer when I go swimming or tanning with friends. I normally wear a swimdress that exposes zero cleavage and is just about mid-thigh. Since my non-Jewish friends (and even many of my Jewish friends) usually wear skimpy bikinis, I have gotten some weird looks from people. My best friend is a non-Jewish boy, and for the longest time he just didn’t understand why I wouldn’t want to wear jeans, or why I didn’t wear low-cut tops like all of my peers. However, most people that know me, just know that I dress modestly.

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?
My mother does not dress/act tznius in the least, and I think that sometimes I surprise her with the modesty of my own clothing and actions.

7. When you see someone who observes tzniut differently than you, what are your initial thoughts? How do you deal with them?
All people judge. I do my best not to :) Going to a non-Jewish, or even non-secular, high school and having family members who do not dress modestly has made me never really take a second glance at someone dressed immodestly. Of course, when people are baring all with cleavage, midriffs, and legs, don’t we all judge a little? When I see someone that observes tznius more traditionally than I, it inspires me to further my observance and practice of tznius.

8. I say modesty or tzniut … what does that mean to you?
Tzniut is more than just covering your body parts. I practice tzniut in my everyday actions and words. A quote that really helps me remember my tznius values is: “Watch your thoughts, for they become words. Watch your words, for they become actions. Watch your actions, for they become habits. Watch your habits, for they become character. Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny.” Long story short, I feel that if I keep my thoughts modest, my character and destiny will keep modest. Modest actions and words to me mean following The Golden Rule, remembering “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all,” and realizing how lucky I am to have everything that I do, and taking none of it for granted.

9. Anything else you’d like to add about your choices, experiences, and more!
As with the halacha in general, I think that tznius, not just in dress but in words and actions, is part of G-d’s mission for us to live in His image. I believe that tznius should also be a person’s choice: find what calls to you. That isn’t to say that if you find/like an outfit that bares all to wear it, but if a woman finds that she doesn’t like the way covering her hair makes her feel, then I think she should forgo the hair covering. I wish that everyone got to experience the great blessings I have received from dressing and acting modestly.

The Tzniut Project 18: "Refined Character Clothed Accordingly"

This is the eighteenth 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 origins 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. I did include a comment, if only for posterity's sake!

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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.
Traditional Orthodox. If forced to pinpoint it further, Litvish/Yeshivish.

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 mother grew up Conservative and dressed modestly to a degree while married to my father who grew up orthodox. When they divorced, her adherence to the laws of modesty pretty much went out the window. I went to Jewish day school and always dressed modestly, but I would wear a bikini at the beach. This is why it's important for parents to be on the same page. It's confusing for the kids. I have two brothers who are also religious and our mother looks at it as the ultimate in rebellion.

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 and my current husband has a stricter standard for modest dress than my former one. I knew this when we met based on where he's from. My ex-husband is more a Yeshiva University (modern orthodox) flavor and refused to let me cover my hair with a wig. He felt very strongly about this. Not wishing to rock the boat of shalom bayis, I went along but was never comfortable with it. I'd approach the topic occasionally, but he never relented. That's not why we divorced, but it didn't help much. When I started looking for a shidduch again, I knew the standard I'd want to keep. I live in a very yeshivish environment so there have been some adjustments to my dress since I got here. Out-of-town tznius is not the same as in-town tznius.

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? 

On a typical day I wear some sort of black skirt or dark denim with a modest top and or shell. Always tasteful, nothing really out there. I have special clothes to wear to honor the Shabbos -- suits, separates, shoes. During the week I wear my wedding rings and a watch. On Shabbos I add accessories. I will run errands in a tichel during the week. On Shabbos it's always a sheitel. It's not uncommon for women in these parts to have a sheitel just for Shabbos.

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 think my exterior adheres to the local standard but I'm sure I am very different from most of the women dressed like me. I am not from Brooklyn -- I would likely be more relaxed if not for the peer pressure and wanting to keep my son in good standing at his school. I also raised my level of tznius a notch to honor my husband. He finds me most attractive when I am totally tzniufied.

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? 

I bumped into someone I knew from my old neighborhood (out of town) who I have not seen since my remarriage. She had never seen me in a sheitel and did not recognize me at all.

7. When you see someone who observes tzniut differently than you, what are your initial thoughts? How do you deal with them? 

I come from a town where not everyone covers there hair, and there are members of my husband's family who fall into this category as well. I *try* not to judge a book by its cover. My only concern is sending a consistent message of what the standard is to our child. He has observed, "That person is a yid (Jew) but doesn't know the rules about ladies not wearing pants," which is an acceptable answer to me.

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

Refined character clothed accordingly. Honoring Hakadosh Baruch Hu by using proper speech and carrying myself as one who takes his laws seriously.

9. Anything else you’d like to add about your choices, experiences, and more!

N/A

The Tzniut Project 17: The Push-Pull of the Left and Frum Worlds

This is the seventeenth 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 origins 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. I did include a comment, if only for posterity's sake!

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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.

I consider myself centrist Orthodox. I disagree with certain aspects of the chareidi hashkafa, like the push for all men to learn in kollel and the suspicion of science and secular learning in general, so intellectually I identify with modern Orthodoxy. However, practically speaking, I don't feel that I fit in the modern Orthodox community because of what I'll call the Big Three Syndrome: there's a disproportionate emphasis on keeping Shabbos, kosher, and mikvah. I don't like the attitude that if you're keeping those mitzvos, you're all set. I'm also uncomfortable with the way many modern Orthodox folks compartmentalize their lives: over here I'm keeping Torah, and over here I'm working at my secular job, and over here I'm spending time with my family and friends ... To me, centrist Orthodoxy means acknowledging that we can learn from the secular world, while still being committed to full halachic observance at all times and in all places.

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 grandmothers both dress very modestly by secular standards (loose-fitting slacks, long sleeves, high necklines). My mother does not dress particularly modestly -- lower necklines, sleeveless tops -- but she was always adamant that I not wear miniskirts. I did not dress b'tznius growing up, but I dressed more modestly than my peers. No one told me to -- I was simply uncomfortable with revealing as much skin as was cool in my circles.

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 not yet married. I hope that my future husband will like to see me looking and acting tzanua, including covering my hair. I plan to cover my hair with a scarf or snood, partially since it seems the most true to the spirit of the halacha, and partially since it identifies me with my ideological community.

It's true that tznius of dress is more personal than some other mitzvos. For example, the standards of kashrus I maintain in my kitchen will affect my husband and children, but only I have to wear the clothes I pick out for myself. However, my observance of hilchos tznius is part of my overall spiritual identity, which can have a huge impact on my family. If my husband went without a kippa, I would feel that this affects me and that I am entitled to comment on it. Similarly, I feel that a husband is entitled to have a say in the tznius standards of his family members, including his wife.

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?
On a typical weekday, I wear a casual skirt below the knee (corduroy, khaki, denim) with a plain T-shirt (covering my collarbone) and a long-sleeve cardigan. I usually wear sneakers or clogs and wear my hair pulled back out of my face. I do not usually wear jewelry during the week (unless I'm going to a fancy event or a simcha). When we talk about tznius of dress, people think of skirt and sleeve length, but things like long, loose hair, big earrings, and even perfume are also discussed in halacha.

My Shabbos clothing is very different from my weekday clothing. On a typical Shabbos, I wear a dress or a fancy skirt and top with nice black flats. I wear my hair pulled back, but I try to make it slightly fancier than a regular weekday ponytail. I usually wear small pearl earrings and sometimes a pearl necklace. I try to dress for Shabbos like I would for a fancy event, because that is part of giving kavod to Shabbos. I also try to keep my Shabbos clothes special for Shabbos and not wear them for weekday activities, although I would wear them to a simcha on a weekday.

One subtle but significant difference between my weekday clothes and my Shabbos/Yom Tov clothes is that I always wear stockings or socks on Shabbos, while on weekdays I often don't, especially with ankle-length skirts. I wear stockings on Shabbos not because I want to be more tzanua on Shabbos, but because for me, wearing stockings is part of feeling dressed up. I agree with the opinion that the halacha regarding stockings varies from one community to another. B'ezras Hashem I'll be in Israel for a few months in the near future, and while I'm living in Jerusalem I plan to wear stockings or socks all the time, because that seems to be the minhag hamakom. Wearing stockings is something I'd like to take on full-time eventually, because I think it looks refined and classy, which is a big part of tznius for me.

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?”)
As someone who identifies with neither the left nor the right wing of Orthodoxy, it's funny (and sometimes frustrating) to see how people on either end of the spectrum make different assumptions about me based on my dress. I just graduated college, and on my campus, though there were quite a few Orthodox students, I was the only full-time skirt-wearer. In that environment, I seem a lot more right-wing than I really am, just by comparison. On the other hand, when I daven at the charedi shul in town, people assume I am more left-wing than I really am, probably because of how my tan stockings and colored tops stand out in that environment. In that setting, people are surprised that I really do keep Shabbos, that I really don't eat out dairy in treif restaurants, that I really do keep hilchos tznius...

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?
My standards of tznius don't exactly match my hashkafa in other areas. I think I keep more machmir standards of tznius than other women who are ideologically similar to me -- I don't wear "the uniform" but I do look more yeshivish than the other women in my modern, liberal shul. It seems that tznius has become optional in the more modern sectors of the Orthodox community. I know many women who are fully, deeply committed to keeping Shabbos, but who see no problem wearing pants or tank tops. I think this stems from the compartmentalization I mentioned above. When one sees Torah as a set of ritual and spiritual practices rather than as a comprehensive lifestyle, it's easier to disregard certain mitzvos as outdated or less important. I hope that by dressing according to halacha and simultaneously being open-minded and more modern, I can show that tznius is not just a mitzvah for chareidi women, but for all Jewish women.

7. When you see someone who observes tzniut differently than you, what are your initial thoughts? How do you deal with them?
This is a sensitive issue. I admit to judging other women based on the way they dress and act. It's not that I would see an otherwise frum woman in pants and think, "She's a bad Jew." I might, however, make assumptions about how she's keeping other mitzvos based on how she's keeping tznius. In one woman's response [here on The Tzniut Project], she noted that she doesn't think it's reasonable to judge someone's kashrus, for example, based on her tznius. I disagree with this, because I see halacha as a comprehensive system. That doesn't mean it's all or nothing -- no one is perfect, and keeping some halachos is certainly better than keeping no halachos. But when an otherwise frum woman who has been well educated in the Orthodox system decides that keeping hilchos tznius is not important, that says something about her overall commitment to halacha. Tznius is no less a halachic requirement than Shabbos or kashrus or mikvah. If a woman gives me a reason to doubt her commitment to halacha, then I may very well be uncomfortable eating in her house.

I admire women who keep stricter standards of tznius than I do, although I don't think halacha requires it. One thing I do have a problem with is the new phenomenon of chareidi women covering their faces with a burka-like garment. There is a world of difference between trying in earnest to live a mehadrin life, and creating entirely new issurim. "Lo sosef alav, v'lo sigra mimenu" -- don't add onto the Torah, or take away from it (Devarim 13:1). There is such a thing as being too machmir.

8. I say modesty or tzniut … what does that mean to you?
At the pshat level, "tznius" refers to a set of halachos governing dress and behavior. The halachos cover, in no particular order, skirt length (or pants length, for men), sleeve length, appropriate necklines, stockings, clothing colors, clothing tightness, jewelry, hairstyles, perfume/cologne, public conduct, appropriate speech, behavior in mixed company...

On a deeper level, the concept of tznius comes from the pasuk in Micha (6:8), which says, "hatznea leches im Hashem Elokecha" -- walk modestly with Hashem your God. This is often taken out of context, though -- the whole pasuk actually says, "You have been told what's good, what Hashem demands of you -- asos mishpat (do justice), v'ahavas chesed (and love kindness), v'hatznea leches im Hashem Elokecha (and walk modestly with Hashem your God)." [Hey! This is exactly what I wrote in my post, too! Great minds think alike ... - Chaviva]


Tznius isn't just an outfit -- it's a midah, like justice or chesed. To me, tznius means striving to be the kind of person who walks with Hashem, and the clothes I wear are just one part of that -- it's also about being humble, speaking in a refined way, being sensitive to my own privacy and the privacy of others, and knowing the appropriate time and place for everything. It's about protecting my dignity as a daughter of the highest King.

9. Anything else you’d like to add about your choices, experiences, and more!
In the chareidi world, I've noticed the prevalence of the idea that just as Torah learning is the one central mitzvah for men, tznius is the one central mitzvah for women. I really disagree with this. The obsession with women's dress in some chareidi circles seems very unhealthy to me, especially since it's obvious that in the early sources, the subject of tznius didn't get nearly as much air time it gets today.

I think this is most likely an expression of the ever-widening gap between the frum world and the secular world. Until relatively recently, there wasn't so much difference between secular women's clothing and Jewish women's clothing. Now that the secular world is pushing further and further left, and very revealing clothing and undignified behavior has become acceptable, the frum world feels, perhaps subconsciously, that it needs to push further right to insulate and differentiate itself. The irony, of course, is that the harder they try NOT to be influenced by the secular world, by taking on more machmir standards and putting more and more emphasis on the importance of women's clothing, the more they are admitting that they HAVE been influenced by the secular world.

I think it's commendable if one individual wants to take on a chumra that's meaningful to her. What's problematic is making a chumra the baseline standard for an entire community.

I also want to add that some people argue that tznius is not "as required" as Shabbos or kashrus, for example, because the halacha is of a different nature -- it's mid'rabanan rather than mid'oraisa, or it's das yehudis rather than das Moshe, etc. I am certainly not an expert on this issue, so I'll just say that in my very humble opinion, according to what I was taught, distinctions like das yehudis/das Moshe speak only to the nature and the source of the halacha, not to the importance or required-ness of the content of the halacha. The label "das yehudis" does not mean, "this halacha is more optional than those explicitly mentioned in Chumash."

The Tzniut Project 16: It's a Very Personal Mitzvah

This is the sixteenth 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

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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.

I would label myself as left-wing yeshivish. I believe strongly in following halacha even when I don't always understand it or even like it. I agree with a lot of charedi concepts but ultimately there are some aspects of the charedi community that I can't agree with.

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?

I am a BT so there was no real standard. My mom and grandmothers wore pants, short sleeves, etc. My maternal grandmother always wears pants. Personally I always was more conservative in my choices. If I wore shorts they were loose. I never owned a tube top or short shorts. My skirts were always on the longer side. We were also taught the concept that there were times and places for different types of clothing.

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. Tznius is an ongoing conversation. When we were dating we were on the same page for the most part. There are small differences in taste and style but nothing major. He has encouraged
me to take on new things that I thought were harder then they actually were.

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?

Normal weekday clothes are either a black or denim skirt that covers my knees a shirt that covers my collarbone and elbows and some type of tights or socks depending on the weather. I love all hair coverings especially pretied tichels and snoods but there are days when my sheital is more appropriate. Pregnancy and nursing have also influenced my clothing choices in the past year.

On shabbos I have a bunch of comfy dresses that I love for Friday night and shabbos day is usually a dress or skirt and top. Shabbos is a holy day deserving of my best clothes. I think getting dressed in my
nicest clothes despite the fact that its often just my husband and me sets the tone for the day.

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 think I come off as being more modern then I actually am. I don't dress in a bais yaakov manner even though I have a lot of the same beliefs. I asked someone I'm friendly with about a specific book
about women in Judaisim that had come out recently and she strongly emphasized how intense it is. People are surprised that I don't use the eruv, don't have a TV, keep pas yisroel, and try to eat chalav
yisroel.

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?

No.

7. When you see someone who observes tzniut differently than you, what are your initial thoughts? How do you deal with them?

I'm human and sometimes I judge, but at the end of the day I know that it's a very personal mitzvah. If people are at the very least being sincere in trying to keep a normative standard of tznius in accordance with halacha then kol hakavod! If their tznius is not in keeping with normative halacha and they purport to be a Orthodox/frum person I get irritated sometimes because proper tznius (in dress and mind) is ultimately no less halachic than being shomer shabbos.

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

When it comes to tznius its as much of an attitude as it is a way of dress. I am a loud outgoing person so the little voice in the back of my head is always there reminding me to tone it down a little.

9. Anything else you’d like to add about your choices, experiences, and more!

Ultimately tznius is about being a bas melech (daughter of the King of Kings). Every day I ask myself how should I dress and how should I behave when continuously standing before our Creator (infinitely greater than any human king)! He set certain standards for us as Jews and we should do our utmost to adhere to them.

The Tzniut Project 15: "The Uniform"

This is the fifteenth 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. I have been waiting for a post from the Chasidic world, and here it is! Also, B"H = Baruch HaShem (essentially, blessed is G-d).

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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. 
I consider myself to be just plain Chareidi. We affiliate with Chabad so I guess that makes us Chabad or Lubavitch? I am not really sure. I know my family describe us as "ultra orthodox." Really we are just regular frum yidden.

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? 
Modesty was definitely not something I saw growing up, not by my mom and later on not even by my grandmother (albeit always in a very classy way B"H). When my family came to America they really assimilated into the culture. Growing up I did not so much dress modestly as much as I dressed very casually and sporty. I loved wearing jeans and T-shirts, sport suits, etc. But by the time I got to the middle of high school that all changed. That is when I really started my entry into the realm of short skirts, open tops, etc. This phase though only lasted two years. I started dressing tzniusly soon after I got to Stern College in New York.

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? 
We have been married for a year and usually my husband leaves the tznius dress up to me. Lately though he has been pretty picky about how I dress around the house (I blame it on our baby girl). When I get home I just want to let loose (i.e. walk around in pants under a skirt, maybe a shirt does not come up to my collar bone). He would not ever let me walk around our apartment with my hair uncovered or even in a short-sleeve shirt. I am pretty much okay with it and used to it ... I was dressing this way around the house before I got married anyways (except for the covering hair part).

I happen to be a lot more careful of how I dress to go out so he never mentions anything about that ... unless something is accidentally showing that should not be. It is definitely a dialogue for us. I think though that my husband's desire for me to be fully tznius in the house comes not only because of our daughter but also because that is what he saw at home. His mom is always fully tznius at home with her hair covered. His dad as well walks around in pants and a button down. My husband comes home and the only thing he does is change his pants, otherwise he stays in his tzitis and a button down shirt. My husband B"H takes his tznius of dress very seriously, he does not wear/own jeans and T-shirts, ever.

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? 
On a typical day I would wear a pleated skirt, some kind of top and a kiki riki/linda leal top underneath. Every single top I have in my closet gets worn with one of these shirts underneath. I, like my husband, dont wear/own any denim. I definitely try to make a distinction between my weekday dress and my Shabbos dress. I feel it is important to do so because Shabbos is all about honoring the King of Kings. We spend the whole day preparing a beautiful table in honor of Shabbos, have a nice becher [kiddush cup] and lichters [Shabbos candlesticks/lights], I think it is just as important to spend some time preparing ourselves as well!

Now we are home every Shabbos because we dont use the eruv, and even at home I make it a point to dress up for Shabbos. It also make me feel regal, I like it and so does my husband :) We rarely have an opportunity to pay a little extra attention to how we look, well for me Shabbos is that opportunity. I make that distinction by wearing my full sheitel instead of a tichel or my fall. I also make that distinction by wearing some kind of fancy top and wearing jewelry (since I don't usually wear it during the week). My skirts are all interchangeable from weekday to Shabbos.

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?”) 
At least in the community I live in people understand that I am frum/chareidi. I basically wear the "uniform": pleated skirt, some kind of top with a shirt underneath, the "chareidi" shoes, tights, sheitel/tichel. I think that my family infers that I am nuts! No one has ever said anything to me outright, and if they wanted to they kept it to themselves. I have to admit though that I am judgmental of people's appearances ... and perhaps that is why I choose to dress as I do, but don't get me wrong I enjoy my style.

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? 
I dont think that I have ... My style of tznius has been evolving ever since I made my choice about four years ago. I had many bumps in the road when I went from zero to sixty and then back again. By the time I left Israel in 2009 I had chosen the "chareidi" style, and I'm really happy with my choice. I think that is the challenge of a lot of Baalei Teshuva, finding a tznius zone that works both for the person and within the community. I know that for me, honestly, community (both in Israel and L.A.) had a lot to do with my choice. My family can make stupid and hurtful comments about the fact that I dress tzniusly, especially when we go shopping or they buy me something, but I stick my ground, and they will hopefully one day stop making unnecessary comments.

7. When you see someone who observes tzniut differently than you, what are your initial thoughts? How do you deal with them? 
None of your readers will like this, and trust me I realize that this is not the right thing to do. I categorize them. I categorize people's observance by how they dress. It has been an uphill battle to get rid of this habit, if any of your readers have advice on this topic I will gladly hear it. I try not to judge them as people based on how they dress. If we are talking then I will listen, I won't automatically dismiss them chas v'shalom ["G-d forbid"]. What can I say, I have got some serious work to do in this department.

8. I say modesty or tzniut … what does that mean to you? 
To me it means mode of dress, speech, and actions. Most of the time it comes up on reference to dress, but there have been times between my husband and I where it has come up in actions. I think that over the years as Yiddishkeit has evolved and changed there has been a far greater emphasis on tzniut as a mode of dress rather than on speech and actions.

9. Anything else you’d like to add about your choices, experiences, and more! 
My style and closet have changed quite often over the last four years. In the beginning of my frumkeit journey I was all over the place trying to figure out where in the frum spectrum I wanted to be. I really think, at least thats how its has been for me, that community (and niche, i.e. "chassiddish") have a large influence in the realm of tnius as a mode of dress. For me personally, the reason I chose and have stayed with my current style is due to

1. being way more comfortable in my own skin than I ever have before,
2. finally choosing a niche/community within the frum world, and
3. getting married and having a baby (since I want to be a good example for my children).

The Tzniut Project 14: A Boost to My Jewish Identity

This is the fourteenth 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. 

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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.
I'm hoping to convert to Orthodox Judaism as soon as I get the opportunity -- although like you, Chavi, I'm not fond of labels. I wish we could all be "just Jewish." However, Jews like to classify themselves into different categories in order to distinguish between their worldviews, so I guess I'd say I tend to lean more toward the Modern Orthodox/Religious Zionist philosophy on many issues -- but I wouldn't limit myself to it a priori. I'm still learning, and God willing, have a conversion and a lifetime of Judaism to look forward to. I want to be a Torah-observant Jew -- but what kind, or 'flavour,' of Judaism will appeal to me most some years down the line, I do not know.

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?
No -- although the women in my family have always had sort of a classic, lady-like style, and my mother never to my memory wore anything short, she did and still does wear low-cut tops. Now that I am choosing to cover up, my mother and grandmother are very alarmed by my choice of clothing and think it's very strange that somebody so young would want to dress like an "old lady." They keep telling me that if I dress like this now, by the time I reach their age I will wish to dress more provocatively and will want to feel attractive and have people look at me, but will no longer be able to afford it. We have endless arguments about this.

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 not, but when I do marry, I imagine I will want my husband to care about his wife dressing modestly but without trying to explicitly control what I do and don't wear.

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 wear skirts below the knee (or at least cover the middle of my knee), and I really like long maxi skirts in summer. On top I'd typically wear a shell with some nice sleeveless shirt over it. Sometimes I also wear shirts up to a tefach [hands-breadth] above my elbow -- to be honest I'd rather not, but I guess when I do this my mother, who I still live with, feels kind of reassured that I'm wearing 'normal' clothes again. I prefer shirts to cover my collarbone, but most often have trouble finding those in shops, so I go for the next best thing -- just below the collarbone.

At the moment I don't dress much differently on Shabbos, partly because I have noone to spend it with -- although I realise that's hardly an excuse; partly because the people at my shul are very secular and don't dress any differently on Shabbos either; and partly because most days I like to dress "smartly" anyway, so there wouldn't be much of a difference.

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?”)
Apart from my parents, I haven't heard anyone comment on what I wear so far, although I do often get the impression people think I'm weird. At my school girls my age wear jeans, miniskirts, T-shirts and sneakers, and whenever there is a formal school event, they wear short low-cut dresses -- so I do kind of stand out. On the other hand, I've heard people over the age of 40 and 50 comment that I dress "smart" and "fancy" -- which is sweet, although I'm not sure what to make of the age group factor!

As I said, the people at my shul are secular -- so I'm the only one there who dresses modestly, apart from another woman who has recently been making an effort, too. Sometimes I find myself worrying about what they think of me -- do they think I'm trying to be "more Jewish" than them, while not actually being Jewish? I constantly have to remind myself that I do what I do for myself, and not for anybody else, so I shouldn't care what other people, Jewish or non-Jewish, think.

On the other hand, when we have Orthodox people visit our shul from elsewhere, I've noticed they automatically single me out due to the fact that I'm dressed like them, and they start talking to me -- while most of the other women in the community somehow don't speak to them, continuing to talk amongst themselves. I sometimes feel like a bridge between my community and the more religious visitors.

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?
Not really -- on the contrary, I've had secular Jews try to badmouth Orthodoxy to me, talking in a way as if they thought I knew nothing about it, even though I was sitting in front of them in a long skirt and long sleeves on a hot summer day.

7. When you see someone who observes tzniut differently than you, what are your initial thoughts? How do you deal with them?
When I see people wearing very revealing and tight-fitting clothing, honestly, I do sometimes judge, although I know I shouldn't. I try to keep in mind that many of them are dressed like that simply due to a genuine lack of awareness of the impact of the way we dress on the way people perceive us, on the opposite gender, and ultimately, on our spiritual wellbeing. Sometimes I'm on a bus and I see a girl enter in very skimpy shorts, and then I see the way all the men look her up and down while she's paying the fare. I think it's disgusting, and in this case I pity the girl rather than judge her.

When I see people dressed more modestly than myself, I sometimes feel a little inferior, and wonder if my own standards are too lax. Where I live there are a lot of African refugees, and the Muslim women from countries like Sudan, Eritrea, etc., only ever wear floor-length skirts, and I've noticed they wear tights or socks so their feet are always completely covered too. I find this admirable considering the boiling summer climate -- and often wonder whether when they see me they judge me the way I sometimes can't help but judge the girls in tiny miniskirts -- I hope not!

8. I say modesty or tzniut … what does that mean to you?
First and foremost dignity and self-respect, expressed through moderation in everything -- dress, speech, overall behaviour. The way we dress and our manners should reflect who we are on the inside, our inner beauty. Observing tzniut means allowing ourselves to be valued for who we are and what we do, rather than for outward appearances. I also think it's in the interests of every woman (and man, but I feel women are more endangered in this sense) not to be objectified.

Tzniut to me also includes what I watch on telly, which websites I browse, what I do in my free time. For instance, I'd never be caught dead in a pub or nightclub -- even though most of my peers love partying, I've always felt out of place in that kind of culture, for as long as I can remember.

9. Anything else you’d like to add about your choices, experiences, and more!
I feel tzniut has given a boost to my Jewish identity -- even though I'm not Jewish officially. When I look different and feel different from those around me, I am reminded of why I do it -- and although at times it can be tough feeling so out of place, at the end of the day I feel proud of who I am and what I do. The constant criticism from my parents and secular society and the fact that I am able to withstand it give me strength, courage and hope that one day I will be a Jew.

The Tzniut Project 13: "What's enough for G-d? What's enough for me?"

This is the thirteenth 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. 

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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.
I'm a "Jew by Dunk" (i.e., a convert) who went through a Conservative conversion almost three years ago. I tend to lean to the more traditional side of things and consider myself "Conservadox" in thought and am becoming more so in actions. I'm a member at a Conservative shul affiliated with the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism.

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?
I certainly don't think she or my grandma dressed in revealing cloths, but they also obviously weren't dressing with tzniut in mind (or maybe they were, but with a different label?). That being said, I remember my mom talking to me about our bodies being a gift from G-d and the importance of honoring that with appropriate dress and behavior. That, of course, didn't stop me from wearing some pretty scandalous outfits during my rebellious teen years -- it didn't help that lingerie as clothing was a popular trend as I entered high school ... But, Mom's words then have influenced my framework today -- sometimes it just takes a while to actually absorb the wisdom being passed on to you.

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'm engaged and will (G-d-willing) be getting married in November. My fiance is an Israeli from the FSU who grew up in a very secular household. Because we are, both in our own ways, trying to figure out what living an "observant" lifestyle looks like for us both now, and as we continue to grow in our observance, we have lots and lots and lots of conversations about this topic and others (kashrut, keeping Shabbat, etc.). He's expressed that he's pretty ok with whatever I choose is right for me, but that a sheitel is off limits. I suspect that we'll continue to have conversations and that we'll further define things as we move along.

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 work in a very casual office environment, so my dress is casual most days (jeans and knit shirts, etc.) but lately I've been putting more thought into what it might look like if I "went skirts and sleeves," so I've been trying that out every now and then. I've found that on the days that I consciously dress like I belong on the show Srugim (modest + fashionable = win), my behavior is just a wee bit more in line with my outfit. Let's just say that off-color vocab doesn't get used as much on those days ... Plus, I feel prettier and more feminine.

I definitely make an effort to wear something that is shul-appropriate (skirt to at least just below knees, a decently high neckline and shoulders covered) on Fridays so I can head straight to services or shabbat dinner with friends after work. And if I'm headed to services on Saturday morning, only my nicest skirts and shirts/sweaters make it out the door. For me, it's partially about honoring shabbat but probably just as much about making sure I'm dressed appropriately for shul and don't get funny looks. It's been a learning curve for me because some things that would fly in a church (e.g., a sleeveless dress) just aren't appropriate in a synagogue, so I err on the side of caution in both coverage and dressiness.

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 think people (including acquaintances and friends) are surprised to find out that I tend to have a more traditional viewpoint on things because I don't dress fully tznua most days. They assume that if I'm wearing flip flops, jeans, and a tank top, I'll take a more liberal view on things like women's role in the synagogue than I do.

Most of my friends were pretty surprised to find out that I'd really like to cover my hair when I'm married and have wondered how that would fit in with our community. One friend said "but that would mean you could never eat out with us!" because eating out (vegetarian) in a non-kosher restaurant with covered hair could send the wrong message. It was a point I hadn't thought about before, and I've been trying to figure it out -- it's as if I'm already anticipating judgment (expressed or not), and it's enough for me to strongly consider not covering my hair right after the wedding (I don't think either my fiance or I am ready for all kosher all the time. Yet.).

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?
I'm not sure that this question applies to me, because I don't think I've ever been considered observant (enough) by the people I would label "observant Jews" (although I'm certainly within the norms of my community).

7. When you see someone who observes tzniut differently than you, what are your initial thoughts? How do you deal with them?
I find myself in awe of the women who are able to mix modesty with fashion -- nothing too flashy of course (or too tight) -- and I'm finding myself more and more drawn to adopt "skirts (knee length) and sleeves (3/4)" full-time.

And I hate to say this, but I've gotten kind of judge-y when it comes to the opposite. Somehow I'm fine with a lack of clothes in the yoga studio or on the beach, but just keep noticing how much SKIN there is in public these days. It especially bothers me in shul to see a slightly too short skirt, and that's when the real judging begins. I try not to linger on those thoughts too long though, especially in shul where my thoughts and intentions should be directed to more important things.

8. I say modesty or tzniut … what does that mean to you?
Up until about two years ago, I would have only focused on the outside. Now (and probably because I'm trying to break a bad habit of using swear words too often), I focus just as much on words/actions as attire. For me, tzniut is about remembering that G-d created you and showing that you remember by your choice in words/actions/attire.

9. Anything else you’d like to add about your choices, experiences, and more!
Some of the others have said that observing tzniut has been a process for them, and it has/will be for me too. Right now, I'm really struggling with how much I want to adopt a more tzniut-friendly approach to dressing but get hung up questions like "can I do skirts/sleeves and still go to yoga classes where I'll be in yoga pants and a shirt?" Lots of "what's enough for G-d, what's enough for me?" In the meantime, I've been working on the words/actions part of the equation.

The Tzniut Project 12: "Normal" Clothes

This is the twelfth 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. 

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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. I am currently trying to convert to Judaism through the RCA (Rabbinical Council of America, Orthodox).


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? No, no one in my family ever dressed modestly to the degree of modest I dress now. My family always was respectful, but never long skirts or long sleeves all the time. I in no way shape or form dress modestly growing up, I wore mini skirts/shorts and shirts where my chest was always exposed.

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 not married, but I am dating, and my boyfriend has a HUGE impact on how I dress. At first (before my decision to convert), he never cared what I wore, or what I looked like, but now that I am dressing Tznius, he is always concerned, and constantly questions me. I am trying to find my own way around tznius instead of just wearing shells and skirts, so sometimes things always dont look the best.

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? Normally I will wear a shirt, a shell underneath, and a black long skirt. I dont really differentiate how I dress on Shabbos and every other day because I dont have Shabbos at my house, and it gets difficult to lug so many different options around. Currently I am wearing a shirt, with no shell underneath (long sleeve, up to the neck) and a long black skirt. I have been trying to look for shirts that don't require shells.

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?”) Everyone comments on my dress of choice. Especially my mother. She always says that I look like an old lady with the skirts I wear or that I am not dressing my age. I got used to it. Some people at work also state how I should wear "normal" clothes again, and how they like looking at my Facebook to remember me when I dressed "normal."

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? No.

7. When you see someone who observes tzniut differently than you, what are your initial thoughts? How do you deal with them? Since I am still learning, I take into consideration how different people observe Tzniut, but I know what I like to wear, and how I like to wear certain clothing. If I like a style, I will definitely adopt it, but otherwise, I keep it my way.

8. I say modesty or tzniut … what does that mean to you?Elbows covered, Chest Covered, Knees Covered, Hair Covered, covered everywhere! =]

9. Anything else you’d like to add about your choices, experiences, and more! No, but please let me know if you have any other quesitons!!! =]

The Tzniut Project 10: "What, are you frum?"

This is the tenth 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. It's a twist on the other posts in this series, and I think you'll find out why as your read. Keep an open mind, and please let me know what you think.

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 am a proud product of the Reform movement. However, my personal praxis causes confusion to folks on both sides of the aisle. My parents raised us with the understanding that Reform Judaism is not an excuse to do nothing. Rather, they taught us that Reform theology and philosophy demands of us a Jewish behavior that is refracted through a modern lens. For example, did we drive on Shabbos? Yes. To shul. And as we grew older, we were able to participate in select activities after Shabbos dinner with the family. Unfortunately, most Reform Jews are not schooled in the core principles of Reform Judaism and opt out of nearly all rituals. But since my general outlook is progressive and egalitarian, I don’t really fit in communities to the right. As a result, I continuously feel out-of-step.

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?
I do not believe that my Grandmother, z"l, EVER wore slacks to shul. She would wear them out of the house, but never any immodest style. Though there are certain boundaries as far as what she would at shul, most of her daily clothing choices are not ones that I would make and often make me uncomfortable. I've always dressed more on the conservative side. In the past few years, it has become more important for me to dress modestly. I have often been envious of others whose clothing identifies them religiously.

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?
Not much of a dialogue. My husband, quite honestly, would prefer me to dress less modestly. His family is far less observant than mine and he has had to make a lot of adjustments these past fifteen years. Most of them, he has made quite readily. Like most American men, however, he has what I see as a superficial notion of beauty. Less is more. Though I don’t have necklines up to my collarbone, I do believe that more is more. As for head covering, I’d do it in a heartbeat! But for the sake of shalom bayit [peace at home, domestic peace], kissui rosh [head covering] continues to be a “not-yet” mitzvah.

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?
Last August, I stopped wearing pants. I didn’t make a big deal about it. No announcement or proclamation. I cannot even say that it was as a result of anything other than I’d been thinking about it for a long time and just did it. I’ve gotten a lot of inspiration and support from some bloggers.

Interestingly, no one has noticed the absence of pants. So skirts are my weekday wear and either dresses or skirt suits for Shabbos.

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?”)
The few times I’ve covered my hair with a cute hat, I’ve received some comments from congregants. Definitely judgemental. “What, are you frum?” I just smile and remind them that Reform ideology allows for a wide range of practices. Which makes it particularly frustrating those times that I have had to defend my choice to some close-minded rabbinic colleagues who think dressing modestly is incongruous with Reform Judaism.

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?
I think that by dressing modestly, I most definitely make folks rethink their stereotypes about what it means to be a liberal observant Jew. I’m a constant surprise.

7. When you see someone who observes tzniut differently than you, what are your initial thoughts? How do you deal with them?
I have yet to find anyone in my community who observes any level of tzniut. As a matter of course, I discuss issues of modesty with the girls in our seventh grade class as well as those in our 10th grade Confirmation class. Mostly in reaction to some of the shockingly short skirts they’ve been wearing.

8. I say modesty or tzniut … what does that mean to you?
It’s more than a simple choice in clothing. Tzniut dictates appearance, actions, and speech. An individual who expresses devotion to God by dressing and behaving in a way that brings honour to our people.

9. Anything else you’d like to add about your choices, experiences, and more!
Though this is not my impetus for dressing modestly, I have discovered that I feel more feminine when having to think about what and why I am wearing certain things.

Reliving the Bible Slap

I posted last week, not to mention in late 2010/early 2011, about this search I'm having for who I am and how I got here. This is another installment, sort of a follow-up to that post, as well as a pairing to go with my Don't Forget to Review the Conversion Manual post, that got a lot of mixed reactions. That post, of a little old man bringing into question my Jewishness, came about in December of 2007, whereas this post came about a year after my conversion in April 2007. From this post below to the one in December, I think I'd been through a lot. The pairing here is that in my Conversion Manual post, it is a Jew that challenges me. In this post, it is a Christian who challenges me (although without knowing that I am a convert). 

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Date: April 6, 2007

Post title: A Challenge 

I'm sitting in Argo Tea near Michigan Avenue in Chicago. Just by Water Tower place. I'm at a table among tables crowded with people, headphones in, listening to Explosions in the Sky (my Torah music). My Etz Hayim is open to Ezekiel 37:1-14, reading between talking via GChat ...

An older man with bad teeth appears over my shoulder, and with a thick British accent says, "Greek?"

I pull off my headphones and show him the cover, "No, it's Hebrew ... Torah."

He responds very quickly, as if waiting to quiz someone -- anyone -- with, "Ahh, how many Sabbath days in Passover!?"

I, taken aback at his random quizzing because it doesn't appear as a friendly exchange, but rather a challenge of "what do you know there little Hebrew girl?," respond with, "Well, the first two and last two days are treated as holidays." I, being Reform and in the Diaspora, know there are differences in the traditions. But this is the first thing I say, of course.

Wrong! He chides me, says "look it up! look it up!" and points me to Leviticus. There are TWO days, he says. And of course, in tradition, yes, there are. He then retrieves his Christian bible and reads the verses to me. I respond by mumbling the Hebrew translations and he continues to correct me when I say that the harvest was 'raised up' ... in the Christian bible it says it was waived about, I guess.

Then, almost as an insult he says, "You must be Reform, eh? Maybe someday you'll become Orthodox and really know your stuff!" He then talks about Easter and the crucifixion and blah blah blah. A barista approaches, mouthing "Are you okay?" The guy eventually shuts up and walks away.

It was like he was challenging me. Like he could see a sign above my head that says "Pick on me! I'm the Reform girl reading Torah in a tea shop! Please, quiz me!"

But it's bigger than that. He stood above me and I sat. I was below him. He reciting words from his Christian bible proving he knows better than I about the tradition. But I knew. Why didn't I just say "Listen man, this is the Diaspora, we do things differently. Not everything in the bible is word for word nowadays. It isn't the precision that matters, it's the passion." But I didn't. Why? I felt intimidated. Unprepared.

Why?

It's Good Friday. Beware one and all. These used to be the days when the Jews got nervous and skittish. Blood in matzo and all that. Mrph.

What a day. Chunks of meat in my ranch and getting lectured by the Christian on my own holiday. Slap! Slap! Slap!

Be Prepared to Review the Conversion Manual

December 25, 2007. I was living in Chicago, at a point of frustration with my Judaism. Unsatisfied with the Reform synagogue I was attending, I stopped attending. On December 25, 2007, I was in flux. I volunteered at the Spertus Jewish Museum for their family day because, well, what else do Jews do on Christmas? I was excited. I was eager. I was stoked to spend Christmas Day -- a day of alienation in the U.S. -- with gobs and gobs of other Jews, appreciating Jewish history and art. And then? Well, I'll let you read for yourself. I think that this day, and this post, was a huge turning point for me in my Jewish journey. If you've never been put in a situation like this, then you likely don't know how intense and soul-crushing the words of a single little old Jewish man can be. Even as strong and confident as I am in my Judaism today, this story continues to hurt. This, folks, is the reality of being a convert.

Warning: It's long, but I promise you, it's worth it. And if you do read it? You'll be touching my soul in a way you cannot possibly understand. 

Please read all instructions carefully. 

I read all the books. I made sure to read and reread all of the chapters and digressions into the plight of not converting Super-Mega-Ultra-Orthodox. I checked the little box that said "You realize that a lot of Jews won't think you're Jewish, right?" I joked with my Reform rabbi and my Reform friends and even made sure to read all of my mom's nonchalant e-mails about how "You know, you'll never REALLY be Jewish, right? Just look at what's his face, you know, Sammy Davis Jr.!" But a lot of the time, it doesn't matter. About, oh, I'd say, maybe 36 percent I guess. But then there's wanting to marry the perfect Jewish mate (did he have to go through this? or was he lucky enough to be born into?), or have kids, or go to Israel, or interact with other, well, Jews. And most of the time, I don't really think about who thinks I am or am not a Jew. It's irrelevant, because I know that I am a Jew. Yes, I went through the process, I dipped, I was presented, I had the bet din, I did the whole shibang. But I did it Reform, and to a lot of Jews, that isn't good enough. It isn't enough because those three Reform rabbis aren't *really* rabbis and the ceremony wasn't *really* halakhic, and my process definitely wasn't *really* halakhic.

And then this guy today had me back to that square one point, where all Jews by Choice end up at least every now and again, when something happens or someone says something. That point where you think, "If I was meant to be a Jew, then why the heck wasn't I born that way?" It's not a statement of denial of the present person, but rather a struggle to figure out why it's so much easier for everyone else, why the trials and tribulations for me? And as I write this, I recognize that it's quintessentially Jewish to run into these hurdles, these questions, these insecurities -- but for these things to be brought on by another Jew? Albeit, a Jew who thinks ("knows") he or she is a *real* Jew?

Listen. I volunteered today at the local Jewish museum. It's Christmas, and for Jews that means we need something to do that doesn't remind us that, ya, the rest of the world is ignoring their credit card debt while opening shiny new toys and noshing on ham. So I volunteered to hang out for three hours and make sure little kids didn't shmear their chocolaty fingers all over the new exhibit on the top floor of the brand spanking new building. The day was going along absolutely perfectly. I was so stoked to see Orthodox and Reform and the random passersby join together for some Kosher baked goodies and a giant inflatable caterpillar. It was this Jewish utopia where all Jews are created equal. I even ran into a coworker who is as excited about Judaic studies as I am (she's the Orthodox gal I work with). I was on top of the world, I was hanging out in the upper echelon of Jew excitement and happiness, and it seemed like it was only getting better when this stout elderly man in a newsboy cap started talking to me.

His name was Wolf. He was carrying a bag of something and had his pants pulled up in that old man way where they sit far above the waistline, which disappeared years ago. His little cap made him look like an overgrown child and when he asked me where all the food was, I thought, this is someone's grandfather! someone's father! and here he is asking me where to get a nosh. I explained that the treats had been gone long ago, swept up by hungry munchkins. I then told him he could go down to the cafe for some food if he was interested. We walked for a little bit and he struck up a conversation with me, poking fun as to why I hadn't managed to save him a brownie. After nearly two hours of silence and wandering around, I was excited to be talking to this little old Jewish man.

Then came the questions.

Is the cafe kosher? he asked. Yes, I answered. Do you keep kosher? he asked. I grinned, knowing where it was going. I made a motion with my hand to sort of say "so so" and said, To some extent, yes. He responded with, You're a good Jewish girl, no? You should keep kosher! I laughed a little and explained that I was working toward it, feeling almost guilty that I didn't, in fact, keep fully kosher. Old people have this way of making you feel guilty, and this guy, without even trying, was laying it on thick. What's your name? he asked. Amanda, I replied. What's your last name? he asked. I hesitated. This is that point where that whole "What's in a name?" thing comes out. Um ... Edwards, I replied. The look on his face made me anxious and nervous, so I blurted out, Not very Jewish, eh? He got a very stern look on his face. You are Jewish, yes? he asked. I quickly responded, (realizing that if I was volunteering there on Christmas I had to be Jewish, right?) Oh yes, of course I'm Jewish. He cocked his head a little, still looking fairly serious, children were buzzing around us, strollers and people muddling about the lower gallery. So what are you then? he asked. A convert? I got excited suddenly, with this jolt of convert pride flew up out of me, forcing me to respond, Yes, I am a convert ... by my own accord, too. He then started asking me why I converted and what led me to where I was and I gave him the brief version of how I ended up where I did. I explained Nebraska wasn't filled with Jews and that I'd spent about three years on the process.

So what are your parents? he asked. Christians? Jews? What? I never know how to answer that question, because they're more or less agnostic, I guess, but they believe in Jesus, so they're sort of Christians, but completely non-practicing. I explained this to him and he said, So are you sure they're not Jews? Are they definitely Christians? I didn't get what he was implying, though now that I think about it perhaps he wanted to know if there was any Jewish lineage in my past. I responded, Nope, they're Christians all right. I'm the only Jew -- so far as I know -- in my family tree.

Just then a lady he knew walked by, and I felt absolutely relieved. He went back into jovial-old-man mode and started showing pictures from his recent trip to Israel. He had pictures of him playing the violin for the rebbe (or at least this is what he said, I'm not sure about the status of the rebbe, so I could have been misunderstanding) in Israel. He was so proud of the pictures, and kept saying, Now those! Those are some serious Jews! Eventually the woman walked away and the old man named Wolf picked back up his questioning. This is when the situation got truly uncomfortable, and at the end, I was left feeling emotionally drained and as if I'd let down the world. As if I wasn't good enough. As if I'd failed on my mission to become who I was meant to be (Lech L'kha). So you converted? he said again. Yes, I replied, in April 2006. How did you convert? he asked. I stopped, dead in my tracks. It's times like this that I wish I could create lies on the spot, but I've never been good at that. I can't make up fake telephone numbers or random facts or anything. I'm just no good at lying, but I regret the truth so much because of how it made me feel, because of how it turned this nice little old man into the ultimate naysayer about who I really am. Well, I said with a slight tone of disappointment, I converted through the Reform movement.

He just stared at me. With these piercing eyes, like all of a sudden I was a stranger, I wasn't worth joking with and I wasn't really his kin, his anything. I laughed uncomfortably.

But, I said, you know, I have considered going through more serious (yes, I said serious, because I knew that was the right word for this man) conversion. I think about getting married or having kids, I said, and I wouldn't want them to be ... (I trailed off.). Then he finally spoke up. You know, he said, do you want to marry yourself a nice Jewish boy? I replied, Of course, of course. Then, he said, you know you're going to have to convert Orthodox, it's the only way, really. At this point I just listened. He started talking in this flurry of urgency that when I think about it almost sounds more like he was saying "You idiot, what were you thinking!? You have to be more serious! You have to go the whole nine yards! What a waste of time and flesh!"

But then came the real kicker.

You know, he said, I don't want to sound like I'm judging you, because I'm not, but you know, and I'm being serious here, that you're not really Jewish, right? You're not really Jewish Jewish. I felt like I was going to vomit. It was those words "You're not really Jewish Jewish" that echoed in my head from the point he walked away until just now. And those words will continue to echo from this point forward. Before, I'd read those words, from my mother and friends and people who didn't really believe what I was doing. But I'd just read them. On paper or the erasable tablet of the Internet. No one had ever said them to my face in a way that was so cutting, so vile, so personal ... and even now, as I write this, those words and this story -- what should have been a pleasant story -- brings me to tears.

Our conversation deteriorated after that. He repeated the "I'm not judging you" line, and continuously encouraged me again and again to convert Orthodox. He wanted me to understand the "reality" of it. He then started talking about wanting to hit up Lake Geneva and then wished me a good day and walked away. I was absolutely devastated. From that point on, I started noticing things. All the men with their yarmulkes and the Orthodox women with their caps and long skirts and the tzitzit and sidelocks and the quintessential "Jewish" nose. I went to the bathroom to escape it. I suddenly felt like I was on the outside looking in. I was outside the window, looking through the glass at this world that I so want to belong to, that at my very core I know I am a part of, yet at that moment I was so far away from it. I looked into the mirror, and thought to myself, At least you were born with hair as dark as night and skin as white as the snow. At least you look Eastern European, Amanda. At least you have something going for you.

I get that being Jewish isn't about looks or about perceptions. And 98 percent of the time I really get it. But this time, just this time, I stopped feeling Jewish and started feeling like someone who is trying so hard to be something that she wasn't born as. I looked at the kids and the teenagers and was reminded that I'll never go to Hebrew school or have the traditional bat mitzvah. I will never grow up learning the aleph-bet or see my little brother be circumcised in the tradition of our people that has survived thousands of years. I will never. And every time these thoughts crept back in, I reminded myself that when they came for the Jews, they didn't come for the Orthodox, they came for ALL Jews -- secular, converted, religious. They came for them all. And I hate that this is what it comes to, sometimes, when I'm reminded that I am not Jewish enough for the rest of the world.

I'm struggling right now to feel positive about where I am, and it's because of an old man named Wolf who just wanted a nosh, but the words from this old-school Jew who plays the violin and keeps kosher was enough to really tip me over and spin me around. I don't think my reaction to a similar conversation with a Jew my own age would have incited such panic and stress and emotion in me, but when an elderly Jew who has managed to retain the tradition his entirely life calls me out and questions my Jewish authority, I just feel the need to feel accepted. Maybe it's because I never connected with my own grandparents, or maybe it's because I admire the Jews of generations past who had to grow up with such different lifestyles than me, when assimilation and acculturation were so pressured upon new Jews in America. Now, I know I can't know where this Wolf comes from or how long he's lived here, but I do know that when he was a kid his family used to go to Lake Geneva. He had the slight hint of an accent, so maybe his parents were from the old country or maybe even he was born in the old country. Either way, I'm projecting this imagine of the traditional Jew who, despite all odds, managed to hold on to his tradition, his culture, his people-hood. And what am I to this old man?

A nothing. Schmutz. Someone who is trying, but hasn't tried hard enough, and who isn't Jewish Jewish. If you get my drift.

I'm not sure where to go from here. I have this mental image of what I want my life to be like, how observant I want to be, how observant I want my future husband to be, how I want to raise my children to be proud and involved in their Jewishness. And I know -- at this point I am completely conscious of this -- that my present state just isn't going to make those things happen. And then here comes Wolf, reminding me that I'm definitely not able to make those things happen, being Reform and all.

Listen. I'm happy with who I am, believe you me. I'm happy with my conversion, and it was right for me when it happened. I was my newly ordained rabbi's first convert, and for him and me that's something memorable. My conversion had a goof in it and caused me to dip in the mikvah twice. My rabbi took me for sushi afterwards and we talked about how I should enter the rabbinate (his idea, not mine). My conversion, the night of, that is, was the night of the final banquet for my college newspaper, and a few of my friends skipped the formal part to come watch my conversion ceremony at the temple. I then went to the party and got drunk, on what else, Manischewitz. The thing is, my conversion has a story, and there was a lot leading up to it that is emblazoned on my brain, and I wouldn't change any of it for the world. In 2006 when I converted, I truly became Chaviva bat Avraham v'Sarah.

But times like these, times like these I wonder if I shouldn't go further. If that Orthodox kid who I met at Starbucks in D.C. in summer 2006 -- ho said "So why are you Reform again?" when I explained my status, my beliefs, my observance -- had a point. I think, if anything, his point was more significant and dare I say it, thoughtful, than old man Wolf's thoughts on my situation. At any rate, if I convert more "seriously," it won't be because of Wolf or the Orthodox kid. It will be on my own terms, in my own time, and in my own efforts. And that will never change.

I just wish Wolf, and his posse of holier-than-thou Jews, would let me be, would let my mind be at ease, would allow me to be who I am, Jewish as I am. I get that I'm not Jewish enough for a lot of you, but I'm Jewish enough for me. I checked the little box, remember?