My new 'do!

Well, I finally took the plunge and shaved my head. I've been talking about doing this for a long time, though it's become much more urgent over the past several months. My hope is to begin blogging again. I'm hoping to keep a public record of my experience and to take a photo each week to document how my hair grows back. We'll see. But I know I was looking for a resource like this as I was debating about whether or not to do it.

Okay, so why did I shave my head? What I've told my friends, family and therapist is this: there has been a lot of change and transition lately in my life over which I've had no control. Primarily, this has been in the form of 3 of my best friends moving out of my house, Moishe House, and 3 new people (also wonderful individuals) moving in. Additionally, as my last post alludes, I feel a lot of anxiety and angst around staying in Chicago. Over a year later, I'm still wondering when I'll start going on the crazy adventures I dreamed up for myself when I was still in college after I'd had an incredible year in Senegal. Living in Chicago does not pose the same challenge to my comfort zone that living abroad did. And I fear I'll lose something if I don't keep challenging myself. What I'll lose, I'm not quite sure. I know most people seek the comfort and security I enjoy in my life. Anyway, I've been cutting my hair shorter and shorter over the past few months. It's change over which I have complete and total control. I also learned that short hair suits me. And while it requires no maintenance on a day-to-day basis, it requires a lot of upkeep in the form of frequent visits to the barber shop. I had no patience or discipline for this latter part. And in a vain effort to avoid going through the awkward grow out phase more than once, I decided that now was the right time to shave my head.

Some free flow thoughts: my hair is a huge part of my identity -- all my life, I've been a curly red head. Removing this part of my identity felt like a big challenge to me, to figure out a new identity, or rather allow other aspects of myself to come through. My hair is also a large part of my identity as a woman. I'm curious to see how society reacts to me. How it may challenge others for a woman to have such short hair, how it challenges the conceptions of 'what is feminine?'. I'm probably taking myself too seriously. But already, I've been the subject of many 'boy' jokes, which I find funny, but interesting all the same. Finally, in the past I've challenged my comfort zone the most by moving to a new place. Shaving my head allowed me to challenge my comfort zone without having to give up everything that I love about being in Chicago -- being near my family, an incredible group of friends, a boyfriend who is good to me, and a job that is meaningful and fulfilling.

We'll see how it goes. I'm interested to see if it affects my professional life at all. I'm nervous for the awkward growing in stages. For now my plan is to let it grow in, once and for all to my desired length, but I suspect I may end up keeping it buzzed for a while. Already, I notice my head feeling colder, so winter will be a challenge. Though I will say, wind feels very different and hot showers are divine on my scalp.

I hope to keep this blog updated. We'll see. Until the next time.

Chicago for another year

Today, I accepted my boss's offer to make my organizing position permanent. I told her I'd like to stay, potentially, for another year. Who woulda thunk it?! I left the office at 11pm tonight, having stayed late to prepare for our staff retreat tomorrow (and still not finished). Now I'm working on my lesson plan for my second to last class for the 8th graders at JRC. I question if this is really what I want to be doing. Yet the decision feels so right. It's exciting to be hired on without a short-term contract. I already have a different sense of legitimacy as an organizer.

I smiled, though, as I dismounted my bicycle thinking about my commitment to another year here because the poem by Langston Hughes, "Dream Deferred," popped into my head.

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?

While I had dreams of what to do with my time post-June, when I was originally going to end my tenure at LAC, for some reason each of those feels less urgent now. But I do wonder what will happen to them. If I'll ever leave Chicago... if I'll ever start to address my bucket list... if I'll ever start to live my 20s the way I dreamed of living them when I was in college. But alas, to look back and say that I learned and worked as a community organizer working on healthcare access issues for over 2.5 years, that ain't so bad. And after all, there's still plenty of time left in my 20s.

Update & Moishe House National Retreat

After a yearlong hiatus from blogging, I felt inspired to post the blog I wrote for the Moishe House (MH) blog here on my personal Chicago blog. Perhaps I will strike up this practice again. A short update, I finished Avodah: The Jewish Service Corps in August 2009. In September 2009, I began my stay at the Moishe House Chicago. MH is an international organization whose mission is to build and support communities for Jews in their 20s. There are houses in cities all around the world. I am still working at my job as a community organizer at the Lakeview Action Coalition (where I worked in Avodah, now I just have a bigger salary). I staff our healthcare campaign. I have also spent that last 8 months teaching a comparative religion course on Tuesday evenings for the 8th graders from Temple Beth Israel (TBI) and the Jewish Reconstructionist Congregation (JRC)at JRC, the synagogue where I grew up.

Tomorrow, I will tell my boss that I'd like to accept her offer to make my position permanent. I think I will likely stay for another year, with the goal of doing Adamahnext May. I never thought I'd be in Chicago this year, let alone for another year. But for now it makes sense to stay here -- continue to build my skills as an organizer. I'd also like to dedicate the next year to be intentional about doing more Jewish learning and exploration of the faith and my spirituality. And of course, I want to continue building and developing my relationships here in Chicago -- with friends and family. Perhaps, I will bring back my blogging tradition.

With no further ado, my reflection on the Moishe House National Retreat in Austin, TX this past weekend...

Back at home in the MH Chicago, I am exhausted and yet more excited than ever about being a part of Moishe House. We've just returned from our first MH National Retreat, this year near Austin, TX. It was a great weekend, full of meaningful programming, reflection, ritual, schmoozing, and of course, lots of eating.

It was incredible to meet all the other residents of MHs across the country. It often feels like here in Chicago we operate in a vacuum, but this weekend afforded us all the opportunity to get to know one another. I realized that I am part of something much bigger than just the community we've built here in Chicago. It was exciting to hear models from other cities (a special shout out to MH Boston!!), talk about programs that work and those that don't, and also to commiserate together on striking the balance between work, personal life, family, other commitments, and Moishe House, not to mention other struggles many of us share.

I feel inspired to develop new lines of programming around Jewish learning and to bring more ritual to some of our events. I also would like to be more intentional about reaching out to other Jews in the Chicago area and building our community. I think a first goal for our house will be to develop a strong sense of mission and purpose.

Before I close, I want to reiterate what we acknowledged at the retreat. First a big thanks to Jeremy and Aviva, the regional managers, for putting together a great schedule. The sessions were all meaningful, I felt our input was valued, and it created lots of great prompts and opportunities for us to share with each other. I also want to give a huge thanks to David Cygielman, the founder and executive director, for all of his sessions with us, but especially the session going through the MH budget, and of course his incredible dedication to the organization and his vision. It is rare and incredible to be a part of such an open and honest organization. I feel that, we, the residents, are truly valued and respected as major stakeholders and partners in the organization, in a way that I've never felt with any other organization.

To close, I feel grateful and humbled to be part of such an incredible organization. It really is a privilege to live in a Moishe House. We have the responsibility and the opportunity to make Judaism meaningful and pertinent for other Jews our age. And we are given incredible resources to build a strong community.

An Inspiring and Just Weekend

It's always hard to know how to start these entries. I can't fully explain the emotions attached to this weekend.

Friday night I went back to Evanston for our Shabbat Group dinner. It is so wonderful to be in the city and close to my family and our friends. I love listening to and engaging in their political discussions and liberal ideologies. They have all committed their lives to fighting for justice and it's wonderful to hear about it. Especially now that I've taken my first steps into the working world and am working specifically on health care. I finally have a much greater understanding of, and appreciation for, the work they do. I feel lucky to have grown up with such engaged, progressive people. They are all truly role models for me.

Saturday I volunteered at the Health and Medicine Policy Research Group benefit honoring Dr. Quentin Young. I don't even know the half of his story, but he is one of my heroes. He has dedicated his life fighting for justice in the health care system. He's one of the founders of HMPRG (happy to boast so was my father and our friend Lon). The organization is dedicated to creating innovative policy and project-based solutions to health issues affecting the under-served members of our society. I was asked the videotape the event, so I was lucky enough to be sitting feet away from Dr. Young, Rep. Danny Davis, and another hero of mine, Rep. John Conyers from Michigan -- sponsor of HR676, the single-payer bill. The room was filled with people who have dedicated their lives to fighting for a more just society. It was amazing to meet them and hear their stories and their tribute to Dr. Young and all the change he has helped create. It was a wonderful evening. I hope to follow in their path. I'm really starting to think Public Health is the route I want to take with my life.

Finally, tonight was Ta'anit Esther at JRC. We honored a modern-day Esther, a woman in our community fighting for justice. This year's recipient was Rep. Jan Schakowsky. She is a powerful woman in Congress and is very progressive. It was great to hear her speak about the fighting preventable diseases in the 'developing world' under the new administration. But perhaps one of the highlights of the evening for me was hearing Dr. Mardge Cohen speak. She is another hero of mine. A well-known Ob-Gyn doctor at Cook County Hospital; she has since moved to Boston. I first met her in Rwanda when we visited her clinic WE-ACTx. Here she is changing the lives of countless women and families by running a clinic that provides women with HIV/AIDS access to ARVs, therapy and other services. Visiting the clinic and its partner programs, it was evident the change she has made in thousands of peoples' lives. So incredible. Mardge was honored last year as our Modern Esther. This year she returned to give an update on WE-ACTx. It was great to see and hear her again. This summer I dedicated an entry to her and I'd like to include the link here so others can share my admiration for her and the work she does.

One of my favorite quotes is: "Be ashamed to die before you have won some battle for humanity." -- Horace Mann.

I wonder how I will come close to leaving a legacy comparable to those of all the individuals I met and heard this weekend. I am proud to be organizing for healthcare this year. I am invested in the community organizing model as a way to create change. It's too early to tell if this is a path I'll follow forever, but for the time being I am grateful for the opportunity to do this work and to be learning how to organize. But I am forever indebted to my parents for exposing me to such incredible people and for leading by example. I was raised in a house in which being an engaged citizen and fighting for justice was the norm. This has had an impact on me beyond measure. I hope I can go on to do with my life what so many people from this weekend have done with theirs.

Peace.

Ash Wednesday

Today, I decided to attend an Ash Wednesday service at a local Lutheran church. The pastor is one of our health care leaders, so I decided to go see what this somber day is all about. It's all part of my spiritual exploration this year. The program began with "Tonight in Worship, we hear a painful promise: Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return. Ash on our face forces us to face our mortality and sin, the limits of our reality. The ash, however, comes in the shape of the cross, tracing also our baptismal identity in the one who took on our shape and our shame to bring us, at last, to glory with God."

I compared Ash Wednesday to Yom Kippur, a day of atonement.

The service evoked a few thoughts.
1) I am uncomfortable with the assumption that we are all born sinners -- at least that's what I thought I heard them saying. I don't believe this is a tenet of Judaism. It's important to acknowledge and repent for your sins, but I don't believe we are all inherently bad. Instead I prefer to believe in every person's good will.
2) I was surprised to see the words "O Lord, open my lips and my mouth shall declare your praise" in one of the psalms they sang. I recognize this prayer in Hebrew "Adonai, sifo-tai tif tach, ufi yagid tehilatechah." I believe this is the opening prayer to the Amidah. Nice to see some parallels.
3) I was uncomfortable when they referred to the "hypocrites that pray in synagogue." Not sure what that means, I don't want to assume they were calling all Jews hypocrites. I am meeting with the pastor in the morning though, so maybe I'll inquire.
4) During the 'Greeting of Peace,' suddenly the woman in front of me turned around to shake my hand and said, "May peace be with you." I smiled and replied timidly, "You too." ! I believe the proper response here is, "And also with you." To the second person that said this to me I smiled and nodded. Whoops.
5) Pastor Brian's sermon focused on the concept of "from dust you come and to dust you shall return." It's an intriguing concept; after all, the only thing we know for sure is that one day we will die. But I certainly don't think of this often. Death, for me, is a "head concept" -- something I know but don't really understand. For others, Pastor Brian remarked, death may seem like a welcome reprieve from the difficulties they face here on earth. I appreciated taking an evening to remember that I am mortal and to step back and consider how I live my life each day.
The end.

Happy Birthday Trees!

Tonight began the Jewish holiday of Tu B'shvat -- the 15th of Shvat.

I haven't celebrated this holiday since I was in Hebrew School. Tonight, I went to a Renewal seder and here are some of the takeaways.

1. I was reminded to celebrate trees -- for what they produce, for their roots, their age, their beauty ... the reasons are endless.
2. We did an eating meditation with each fruit we ate. I was grateful for the reminder to be conscious about what I consume, just
wish I made time to appreciate my meals more often. I often take my food for granted and forget about the process it requires to get to my plate. So it's nice to have a holiday that reminds you to celebrate.
3. The rabbi mentioned that when Jews talk about what happens after death -- or maybe Jews don't really talk about it, I forget what the belief is on this -- but in any event, it doesn't really matter because what's important is the life you lead while you're here on earth. And even though we don't believe in judgment after death, it's said that we'll be turned away if we didn't enjoy every opportunity we had to be happy. I like this idea.

Other than that, things are going well here in Chicago. The warm weather we had this weekend was a welcome reprieve from the brutal winter we've been experiencing. Work is busier than ever. It's exhausting, but so much better than being bored.

Finally, it was my mom's 60th birthday this weekend. We threw her a surprise party. She was very surprised. Around 50 people came to help her celebrate this milestone. It was lovely. I was happy my dad, sister and I were able to pull this off as a small token of our appreciation for her -- as the good role model she serves for Moriah and me and for all the thankless work she does for our family and her community.

That's all for now. Take some time to appreciate the trees.

On Giving

I'm sorry I dropped the ball on this blog. Life got busier than I expected. But having heard from several people that they check in from time-to-time, I am inspired to continue writing. I have many thoughts to share. The last few months have been jam-packed with experiences, emotions, and stories. But today I want to focus on a particular exchange I shared with a man this past weekend.

My friend Megan was in town and we spent the two days downtown. I'm happy to report that Chicago is alive and well with the holiday spirit. Just walk down State Street and Michigan Avenue -- it's consumerism at its finest. You would never know our country is in a yearlong recession. But this shopping frenzy creates a sharp contrast with the high number of people asking for money on the streets. I suppose I don't see it on a daily basis as there are not many beggars in my neighborhood, and I rarely venture onto Belmont, despite working close to it. I was particularly affected by these folks on the street as it was a very cold weekend. It's hard to be in the Holiday spirit and know that it doesn't translate to everyone. It's also hard to see people spending so much money and yet passing by people in need without so much as acknowledging their existence as a human.

I was feeling badly all weekend that I hadn't even given out a dollar. Sunday I spent $10 on lunch (a lot more than I generally spend on food these days; having spent this much on myself, I was determined to at least give a dollar to someone). There was leftover pizza topped with spinach, mushrooms, onions and feta cheese. It was delicious and I was delighted by the prospect of bringing it to work for lunch on Monday.

However, walking down the sidewalk, we passed a man who asked if we could help him get something to eat. I smiled, and said, "Sorry, not today." But then we passed him again, and I realized I was carrying food! So I offered him my prized pizza. He said to me, "I get offered pizza 10-12 times a day." I smiled uncomfortably and raised my eyebrows; did he want it or not? "Is it thin or thick crust?" he inquired. "Thin," I responded thinking and it's topped with lots of veggies, quickly realizing that may not be something this man valued. He took the pizza, gave me a blessing, and as I headed into Walgreen's to ask for directions he called out, "Could you help a brother get a Pepsi and a cupcake too?" He was joking, but not. I laughed gently and said, "Probably not today." This exchange left me with a frustrated feeling.

Later with Megan, I jokingly said, "Man, I wish people offered me pizza 10-12 times a day." She reminded me that, no, I want to eat the warm meals I want when I want them, and not left overs from someone's plate. She was right. "But he asked if we could help him get something to eat, and I gave him something to eat," I responded indignantly. He probably wanted money, she suggested. I started to get upset, for I hate the argument that all homeless people blow their money on alcohol and drugs. But she went on to explain that asking for help to eat appeals to many people, but that he probably really needed money to buy a warmer winter coat, or pay for a warm place to spend the night, or buy medicine, or maybe cigarettes or alcohol to help him cope with his conditions.

And so I'm frustrated. He wasn't thrilled by the pizza, whereas I was very excited to eat it the next day. He probably would've preferred a dollar. This would've been a cheaper option for me, because since I didn't have leftovers, I had to buy a $6 jar of peanut butter so I could eat the next day. But there was no way to change the situation. In Avodah, we were talking about why people give to causes. Oftentimes, people give because it makes them feel good. And I didn't feel good after this exchange. And I'm even more upset with myself for being frustrated that he wasn't grateful for my 'donation.'

It was a messy situation. But generally, this is something with which I've been struggling this year. I'm on a very limited budget and the need is overwhelming -- especially when you're downtown. But when I think about it, I still have so much more than the people I pass asking for money. I get to come home to a lovely, warm apartment every night, I'm never hungry, I have a job, and a supportive network of friends and family. But I am certainly not in a position to give to every person that asks. It's hard, too, because the whole point of Avodah: The Jewish Service Corps is that we spend a year fighting poverty in American cities. I've learned that there are myriad social service agencies that are there to assist people in need, but I understand these are not always positive experiences for people and that I'm in no position to tell people how to live their lives. By participating in Avodah, I've dedicated a year (hopefully the first of many) of my life, trying to make the situation in our society better. But that doesn't change the difficulty of the situation when a person humbly asks for money and I have to say no.

So that's what's been on my mind most recently. I wish there was a clearcut solution to this problem, but obviously there is not, for it still exists. I guess I'll have to go on being grateful for and cognizant of what I have, giving what I can and channeling my time and energy into productive, community-based projects that help address the need at the structural level.

Peace.