New York – They’re dirty, they’re smelly, they’re ignorant, and they can’t speak English.
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Though I didn’t personally know any Orthodox Jews until my mid-teens or even so much as have a conversation with one of them until high school, my negative opinion was formed at an early age.
My father, a doctor, brought home disparaging impressions of the chassidim he treated as a resident at a Manhattan hospital. I watched movies like “Fiddler on the Roof” (old-fashioned Jews) and “A Stranger Among Us” (fanatical Jews). And during our monthly family trips to New York, I would see observant men and women from afar, in their wigs, long beards, hats, and outdated clothes, and think about how different we were. (Our predominantly Catholic town in the suburbs of Northern New Jersey certainly didn’t have any locals of that persuasion.)
I knew I was Jewish – but I was normal Jewish: American, balanced, part of society. My parents instilled in us a sense of great Jewish pride, and put the fear of God into us to not intermarry, but these Orthodox people clearly took the religion too far, I thought.
After my bat mitzvah, I superficially got to know a few of the Orthodox Jewish teachers at my local twice-a-week Hebrew high school. While they seemed nice enough, I still considered them very different from me, part of a world I knew very little about (and I was happy to leave things just as they were).
I didn’t confront religious Jews or Judaism in a personal way until my junior year of high school, when one of those Hebrew high teachers proved to be very useful in helping me deal with something that had been plaguing me since childhood.
I discovered at around the age of 8 that I didn’t know why I was alive, but to my surprise, no one else I encountered seemed to know either. After nearly eight years of off-and-on insomnia and panic attacks caused by this existential angst, I enrolled in a Hebrew high class called “Taoism and Pirkei Avos.”
My teacher was very warm and approachable and I distinctly remember how much better I would feel walking out of his class each week. It was the first time I grasped just how much wisdom Judaism had to offer, as I had been raised to believe the greatest Jewish contributions to the world consisted of food, funny Yiddish expressions, and academic excellence.
During the spring semester of that year my teacher invited me to spend Shabbos – my first real Shabbos ever – with his family. I was instantly drawn in by what I saw, but simultaneously frightened to venture down such a path.
The Shabbos, the learning, the lifestyle all seemed so beautiful, but how could I become one of them? They were backward and extreme. What would my family and friends think of me if I changed so drastically?
At first I tried to be more observant without officially “changing teams.” I became active in a Conservative Jewish youth group and searched for other teens who also wanted to be committed to Jewish law.
Despite my efforts, however, I quickly realized there weren’t many people in those circles who cared to observe as seriously as I did. I soon started calling myself Conservadox, then MODERN orthodox, and then finally, one day at the end of high school, I stopped worrying about labels and accepted myself as an Orthodox Jew.
* * *
Purely out of ignorance, I had spent my life missing out on the beauty of traditional Judaism. I knew many other Jews were doing the same. Rejecting Judaism based on knowledge is one thing, but the majority of Jews were rejecting their heritage blindly – and for that I wouldn’t stand. So from the moment I started observing Judaism myself, I did everything I could to educate other Jews about the depth of their heritage.
I started close to home. I got my family interested in learning – my parents and two sisters are all observant today. When I arrived at Columbia University, I became very active in Jewish outreach there. At any given time I had half a dozen girls I would study with and bring along to Jewish events. I became the student leader, and later national student coordinator, of a campus kiruv group called Stars of David (little known today, it was a precursor to the very popular and successful Maimonides campus program.)
In addition to my campus efforts, on the weekends I was an NCSY adviser and Hebrew high teacher at the very Hebrew high school where I first got my introduction to a Judaism that was exciting and relevant.
Upon graduating from college I began working at Partners in Torah, a Jewish outreach organization that facilitates telephone Torah study-partnerships. During my five-year stay there I interviewed more than 3,000 young, college-age Birthright alumni over the phone, as part of the “intake” process for new students.
I immediately noticed a certain trend in the interviews, but it wasn’t until several years later that I was able to draw a useful conclusion from what I saw: nearly every person I spoke with about observant Jews displayed a palpable dislike or distrust of – and a clear feeling of disassociation from – the Orthodox.
I’d start off the interview with a nice conversation, get into an interesting topic, but if at any point along the way I’d reveal that I was Orthodox (which I often did for fun), the interviewee almost always commented that he or she was shocked, because I seemed so nice and “normal.” I also noticed throughout these many conversations that there was a lot of misinformation about Orthodox Jews.
The “research” I was unknowingly conducting didn’t come to a head until about three years ago when I was interviewed by a Catholic journalist for a Spanish newspaper. She had come to New York to cover a story, and while here she started noticing the Orthodox Jews in the Brooklyn neighborhood in which she was living. Having had very little exposure to religious Jews in her native Spain, she decided to find out more and write an article on the subject.
A colleague of mine saw her post online requesting an interview with a local Orthodox woman and suggested I e-mail her. I did, and she came over the next day. When she stepped inside our apartment, which is decorated in a very urban, contemporary manner, I could immediately see from the expression on her face that the stereotypes were breaking down. After a nearly three-hour interview, her perspective had completely changed.
It was at this point that all the pieces started coming together. I began to realize that not only were the negative beliefs toward religious Jews with which I was raised virtually universal among non-observant Jews and non-Jews, but that such negativity was preventing Jewish wisdom from getting out to the world. I recalled how even one of my most liberal, open-minded friends from college revealed to me months after we became friends that if she had known I was Orthodox when she met me, she never would have spoken to me in the first place.
* * *
If spreading the beauty and wisdom of Judaism was my ultimate goal, the system to do so seemed internally flawed. In my decade of outreach involvement, I’d spent several years recruiting for NCSY, Partners in Torah, and Moodus/Sinai Retreats. Getting people through the door was always a tremendous challenge – and actual arm-twisting was necessary in some cases. The programming itself was almost always terrific and inspiring – at times life changing. But none of that mattered if not enough people were there to get inspired.
Obviously there is more than one solution to the challenges of recruitment, but it occurred to me that would-be participants were rejecting programs simply due to their negative perception of Orthodox Jews. This meant that despite all the wonderful Jewish outreach going on around the world, the image of Orthodox Jews was a roadblock all too many Jews could not get past.
I decided I would try to launch a worldwide campaign to improve the public perception of Orthodox Jews. It seemed like a great idea – except, of course, for the fact that I had never actually launched a worldwide campaign before, and wasn’t exactly sure where to begin.
My first project: organize an anthology of the writings of the most prominent observant Jews in the world to correct the most common myths and misconceptions people have about Orthodox Jews. With the help of God and some hard work, I was able to contact leading figures in science, women’s issues, law and other subjects and arrange for contributions from many of them (with more to come, if all goes according to plan).
A few months after I started working on the book, I read an article about a very successful YouTube show called LonelyGirl15. This LonelyGirl15 brought viewers into her YouTube life and got millions of people to tune in and care. From this idea, I created my own YouTube show, based on my alter ego, a young, hip, Orthodox woman living in New York City.
The show and the character shared a name: “Jew in the City.” I dress up as different non-Orthodox Jewish characters (channeling the people I’d interviewed over the years), and ask Jew in the City a question; she then answers in a short, humorous way that leaves the viewer with something substantive about Judaism to think about.
A friend was kind enough to film and edit the first two episodes for free: one episode making sense of the seemingly strange practice of Orthodox women wearing wigs and the other using Jewish wisdom to overcome fear. Then, several months later, he and his wife moved across the country, and I had to figure out how to make videos without him.
* * *
While I tried to raise funds for future videos, I started writing a weekly blog under the Jew in the City name to keep my viewers connected (now hosted on my website, JewintheCity.com). The blog was styled much like the videos – short, funny entries always ending with something deeper to think about.
Posts include topics like why Orthodox men don’t wear wigs and how to make the perfect soy-chicken parmesan sub, as well as the inspirational lessons I glean from the items and experiences of everyday life (from can openers to tap shoes to the mysterious smell that was emanating from my pantry, just to name a few).
I was eager to devote more time and effort to the cause, so despite being the primary breadwinner of the family (my husband was in his last year of law school), I took the plunge, quit my job at Partners in Torah (thank God for student loans!), and made the Orthodox image make-over my main pursuit (outside, of course, of my full time job as a mother and wife).
I scraped together some funding and with the help of another friend filmed five more episodes (a total of seven have been released so far). The videos have been viewed more than 80,000 times on YouTube. I’ve been contacted directly by many viewers whose perceptions of Orthodox people, or of particular mitzvos, were changed by the videos.
An American woman living in Israel who acknowledged having had serious issues with Orthodox society, wrote, “I am a (very) secular Jew and I LOVED [the videos], I thought you were fabulous. I’m forwarding it to my girlfriends – frum and otherwise. Please keep making the videos for people like me to enjoy.”
A viewer in Texas e-mailed me to say my hair-covering video helped inspire her to begin covering her own hair, which snowballed into full mitzvah observance: Shabbos, kashrus, and taharas hamishpacha. An Orthodox woman wrote that it was challenging at times for her to cover her hair living in an out of town community, and seeing my video gave her “chizuk to continue.”
The blog has also taken on a life and a following of its own, reaching a crowd beyond the video viewers, with new subscribers being added every day.
I’ve received beautiful feedback from readers, one of whom wrote, “Very well written and touching. You really bring things down to a level that everyone can understand and learn from.”
Another wrote, “Laugh out loud funny! And a sharp, insightful commentary to boot!”
Still another: “Whew! You have really opened my eyes to a lot. I am actually going to start studying with my local rebbetzin. Much of that has to do with you.”
In addition to the videos and blog, Jewinthe-City.com hosts a Q&A section covering questions like “Can Orthodox Jews be friends with their non-Jewish neighbors?” and “Has Moshiach stood us up?”
I also answer e-mails from readers that are not posted on the site and I set aside time each week for free telephone appointments with people who have more in-depth questions.Many of these interactions have led to referrals to local outreach centers and Israel learning programs.
The reach of the Internet grows each day. On Jew in the City I have connected with Jews and non-Jews, religious and atheist, off-the-derech chassidim, fledging ba’alei teshuvah, secular humanists and feminists; with readers and viewers from Greece and Turkey and South Africa and Australia and Israel and all over North America – just about every one of them open to reconsidering preconceived notions of observant Jews and Judaism.
Every Jew has the right to know just how special his or her heritage is. By addressing the myths and stereotypes that turn people off to observance and by presenting Judaism in an accessible manner, I have tried to introduce people of all backgrounds to a traditional Judaism that doesn’t threaten, intimidate or alienate. The ultimate goal, of course, is to open the door to further Jewish education and observance.
If you’d like to help make this campaign succeed, please visit JewintheCity.com and drop me a line.
Allison Josephs is creator of JewintheCity.com and lives in New York City with her husband and three children.
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תכלית בריאת העולמות…לעשות לו דירה בתחתונים
It is time you start learning chasidus
as the Rambam begins: יסוד היסודות ועמוד החכמות לידע שיש ש…
note the rambam says לידע not למאמין
You discovered Judaism and realized that your father’s stereotypes against religious Jews were wrong. I try to teach Orthodox Jews that indoctrinating their children with stereotypes against other nations is also wrong. It’s a good thing that Balei Teshuva and Modern Orthodox Jews bring “normalcy” to the imagine of Orthodox Jewish enclaves.
The misconseptions about orthodox jews shows how narrow minded the so called enlightend world is. Keep up the good work alisson.
yes she does! our problem seems to stem from a chasooren in emunah stemning from everybody believing in emunah pshuta. now while blind faith is better then asking questions at all. asking questions and people with emunah pshuta not being able to answer is an even bigger problem. the right thing would be that people that do have questions realize that people with blind faith is just the wrong address for them.
Wow! I am so impressed by what Allison Josephs is accomplishing. Here is someone who doesn’t just “talk the talk” but “walks the walk.” I watched all seven videos produced to date…I’m duly impressed by the increasing professionalism of each production. A contribution to help the cause is being sent forthwith.
P.S. To commenter no. 1: if you have no idea what “avodas Hashem” is, then you clearly need an education.
everything is relative. for someone from a non observant background starts observing a few mitzvos it’s great. for someone from an observant background which kept all 613 mitzvos and now only keeps 3 mitzvos it’s not that great. so we have 2 ppl with seemingly the same level of observance- but they’re really miles apart. it’s all about which direction you are heading in.
with that said- assuming one keeps all the mitzvos it’s really not important whether one associates with any particular movement- such as black hat, yeshivish, yu, mizrachi, chassidish, lubavithc, breslov, carlebach, etc. i personally hate labels. when one travels on a long journey there are usually several routes to take. the beis hamikadosh had 12 gates (2nd one had 13). there are also in judaism differnt paths or routes to follow in the journey to g-d.
i wish everyone a safe journey!
After reading the first few sentences., I realized that the writer is Allison Joseph. Ms Joseph was a student of mine, at the very same Hebrew High School (although I never taught Taoism and Torah). She and her siblings, along with a number of other students, are the crowning achievements of our school.
Nonetheless, some of the stereotypes about Orthodoxy, are real, and must be worked on. Thirty or forty years ago, when I was a Yeshiva student, there was a great deal of movement, in the Orthodox world, towards achieving a balance between true Torah observance, and adapting to the modern world. There is no mitzva to wear black. There is no mitzva to shave once a week (if you choose to shave, shave every day, if you have a beard, keep it neat). There is no mitzva to speak English as a third language. Rudeness is inexcusable.
I was raised in an environment that combined Torah and a secular education. I attended a slightly right of center Yeshiva, where we were expected to return to night seder after returning from night college. We often wore hats and jackets, but they were not always (if ever) black.If you wear a jacket and a hat, shouldn’t you also wear a tie (matching)?
Use of “oi” in place of a cholom, does not make you “frummer”. If you are a Galitzianer, then you would use an “oi”, as well as a different kamatz, a different kubuts, and shuruk. If you aren’t a Galitzianer (or a Hungarian), you would either use an “oh” an “Ay” or the soft “oh” that the Sfaradim use.
If we are to reunite our brethren under the banners of Torah, shouldn’t (at least some of us) present a face that is not outlandish?
your father was correct…..smell the roses.
I don’t agree. In prewar Germany, even the ones that were totally reform and assimilated, still went around with a feeling of being aloof and non-caring, for any Umos Ho’olom. Who do you thing sang the songs of [A Yiddishe Mamma, or A Yiddishe Haartz, or A Yiddishe Kop], the Reforms.
It was this Non-caring, for a fellow Human Being,that caused Middoh Kneged Middoh.
Hopefully, the other Treif in the City won’t bother her about copying their themes.
I think the offended readers are misreading Ms. Josephs message. She is not criticizing orthodox Jews instead she is trying to present the openness of traditional orthodoxy. Orthodox communities have changed drastically throughout the millennium but with a common thread of a devotion to Hashem and mitzvah observance. That should be the unifying factor to those of us who hold these values; it’s not yiddish, it’s not the black hat, and it’s not the stringency of hashgacha. The sad reality is that the vast majority of the Jewish world is not observant and very much assimilated, and it is very important for these people to feel comfortable in moving towards a more observant lifestyle without having to feel like they need to totally abandon their past. It is also very important that those who grew up in an observant community to feel comfortable with integrating with the rest of society and to not be suffocated within the “ghetto walls.” Many of the current “modesty” rules were adopted long ago (post-Moshe misinai) by adhering to the standards of society at large back then but haven’t changed with the rapid change of society that has occurred in the past 100 years or so
Bravo to Chief Doofis and Shmulik. I am the proud mother of Allison AND Heather And Melanie…all fine human beings and all who are ba’alei t’shuva, just like me and the daddy, who, by the way, now learns in yeshiva in the mornings in Passaic, NJ. And, for your information, we were all wonderful secular Jews in our previous lives who were caring, honest, inclusive and the pillars of the community. I often say that we just took something good (great marriage and great kids!) and made it better with Torah!!! These two wise gentlemen, Chief Doofis and Shmulik, have hit the nail on the head. Please refrain from the stereotypical “if you have two Jews, you have ten opinions.” Look at the bigger picture that Allison is trying to accomplish and stop the petty arguments as to who’s more frum and who’s more machmir! My bubbe and zeide imparted to me without words…since they didn’t speak much English and I only understood Yiddish…and not that well…a love and joy for living the life of Yidden and observing Hashem’s Laws. This pure simple joy that I observed in them is what every single frum Yid has to show the rest of the non-frum world. And the best way to do this, is NOT by preaching or preening who’s better, but by being honest, caring, respectful, loving and inclusive. I understand that some sects of Chassidim have closed communities and I also understand why they do this (I received my MSW at Wurzweiler and took many courses on this subject, did much research and wrote many papers), but the rest of us who are not in these closed communties have to learn how to open our minds and our hearts to others. This is the wonderful way in which to bring Moshiach…by attempting to bring the secular Jews to Torah with love and understanding…as my mother would say “mit geetins”.
I stumbled upon allison’s website earlier this year. She is wonderful and a real credit to her family and school. Allison does not, I repeat, does not, try to tell orthodox people to be less orthodox or more like the goyim. She enables non-yet-frum jews and non-jews to see what we all know- that we are normal people with personalities, senses of humor and interest in various subjects, just like anyone else.
For those of us in kiruv, we have encountered this stereotype all too often. I was asked once “Why do you wear a black hat, your such a normal guy?” I answered that it identifies me as part of a group of like minded people. SO essentially, I want people to see my hat and assume that I am similar to other guys with hats. But, I certainly hope that they can also so me as an individual who may have different interests that and better vocabulary and more knowledge of the world around me than some of the other people who wear the hat.