Hey Baby, Baby- It's a Wild World

Will I insult people along the way? Probably.
OK, but it's like that Billy Joel song I've had in my head for the last week, "My Life." (Lyrics from http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/My-Life-lyrics-Billy-Joel/C351330977A537C448256870001D54FB)

Got a call from an old friend
We used to be real close
Said he couldn't go on the American way
Closed the shop, sold the house
Bought a ticket to the West Coast
Now he gives them a stand-up routine in L.A.

I don't need you to worry for me cause I'm alright
I don't want you to tell me it's time to come home
I don't care what you say anymore, this is my life
Go ahead with your own life, and leave me alone

I never said you had to offer me a second chance (I never said you had to)
I never said I was a victim of circumstance(I never said)
I still belong, don't get me wrong
And you can speak your mind
But not on my time

They will tell you, you can't sleep alone in a strange place
Then they'll tell you, you can't sleep with somebody else
Ah, but sooner or later you sleep in your own space
Either way it's okay, you wake up with yourself

I don't need you to worry for me cause I'm alright
I don't want you to tell me it's time to come home
I don't care what you say anymore, this is my life
Go ahead with your own life, and leave me alone

I never said you had to offer me a second chance (I never said you had to)
I never said I was a victim of circumstance (Of circumstance)
I still belong, don't get me wrong
And you can speak your mind
But not on my time

I don't care what you say anymore, this is my life
Go ahead with your own life, and leave me alone (Keep it to yourself, it's my life.)

I went to what's called a "cholent party" last Thursday night at this shul in midtown Manhattan. The shul is on 6th Avenue between 38th and 39th streets. They house these gatherings for anyone, but they were originally started for the Williamsburg Jews who need a hangout. The group is incredibly diverse, and I was struck with the vastness of the "orthodox" Jewish community in America. Somehow, growing up in Teaneck, NJ, with a strong Jewish education, I had a set of expectations from the Jewish people who call themselves "Orthodox." I suppose that these expectations have not been met on many occasions, but for some reason, it never affected me in the same that it did last week. I suppose I wasn't ready for this sort of message to process.

The people who come to this gathering are a lot of ex-chassidim, people who are new to Jewish learning and practice, and a bunch of people on their own "journeys" along the way. I heard about the party from a musician friend of mine, who found at these cholent parties that he finally found a place where he could relate to other people, and they to him. I spent much of the time talking to a woman named "Leah," who grew up Satmar in Williamsburg, but moved to Bayswater-Far Rockaway in a step away from the community. She works in Boro Park, and she has a BA in Psychology from Touro, but is currently studying to be a physical trainer. She told me that she never learned how to read hebrew, which as I write those words, brings tears to my eyes. She is upset at the poor education she received, and wants desperately to catch up. I offered her to teach her to read hebrew, and gave her my phone number.

I spoke to a man who calls himself Schneur, and lives in the middle of Boro Park. Looking at him, I would have placed him closer to the neighborhood he comes from originally, which is the upper east side. He is infatuated with Yiddish. He studies it, speaks it, and works for a Yiddish Newspaper.

Every person at the gathering has a story that is absolutely unique. I felt strange, coming from a community where I'm mostly satisfied with what I've been given and with what I have. I was overwhelmed with the huge world of possibilities for Jewish people. I think if I a bunch of random people in a secular non-Jewish context, I would not be as taken aback, since I expect of people coming from different religions to come with different cultures and lifestyles. But when I meet someone Jewish, I have,until now, come in with false assumptions and expectations about beliefs about religion, and about people in general; about what is acceptable social decorum, what would be considers operative sanitary standards, etc. But you can't assume anything about anyone-- Jewish or not. I'm not saying that Leah didn't smell clean, not at all. The room was not clean, though, and the heat wasn't working, which made the facilities unfit for habitation this time of year and inadequate for the purposes for which it was being used. People were smoking drinking, and eating cholent, and it seemed that was all anyone could do to stay warm.

A candid impulse I felt during this party: turn around, run home. Go back to Teaneck, where things are safe and predictable. But the world of this party was also luring me in, and while I didn't feel entirely safe with all of the strange men who seemed to say, "you're clean, can I give you a kiss on the cheek?" I did honestly appreciate the openness and genuine accepting atmosphere that the environment created. Everyone is different, everyone might be considered weird outside of these walls, but 1. you're in Manhattan, so who isn't a little weird? and 2. Everyone here will accept you, despite your past story and your current situation. That culture is very appealing to me. It frees people from the shackles of the expectations that they imagine are upon them, and it allows them to be true to themselves.

Will such a culture produce stable members of society? I imagine some people will choose stability, after some time. In fact, I think that the reason the people at the cholent party are often unstable is correlated with the culture of acceptability, and not a direct result of it. I know unstable people who are not very tolerant of people who are not like them, and people who are both accepting and stable at the same time. The cholent party culture is only a profound and wonderful model for what communities need if they want 1. not to scare away people who won't like their cookie-cutter lifestyle, and 2. their member to explore their own capacities and potentials. Some people will find both of these values unimportant and frankly terrifying. But I think they are essential and under emphasised. But that's just me.

Schneur and I were suggesting communities Leah might want to try out. We suggested Riverdale, the Upper West Side, Washington Heights. She said to us, "I don't want to join a modern orthodox community!" "Oh," I thought. "I wonder why that is." Leah continued, "I just want to be able to do what I want!" I understood. She could leave the ghetto of Williamsburg and enter the ghetto of Teaneck, where the normative practices are not what they were in Williamsburg, but they are still restrictive of one's autonomy. Having come from such a community, I can understand why such an option would not appeal to someone trying to escape the conventional conformism of an insular community.

I wonder, though, if a serious religious community could exist that allowed its members complete autonomy in the way that Leah wants it. I don't know how much she wants as an individual, but I don't think that it's necessarily the answer to all of the world's problems. There have to be some boundaries sometimes. There ought to be norms of behavior and expectations, oughtn't there? Chaos and anarchy are not ideal models for a functioning society. And yet people need their autonomy. So we strive to find communities, and to build families that have a healthy balance.

Does anyone have any ideas about this? Thoughts on how to strike a balance? Whether any autonomy is appropriate? Any limitation of that autonomy?