Tag: leadership

Both the Orthodox Union and the Rabbinical Council of America position themselves as rabbinic leadership for (at least) the Orthodox community in the United States. Both maintain that a key component of the Orthodox community is “listening to the rabbis.” Both have condemned in no uncertain terms the concept of Orthodox women clergy, and both have emphasized the vital position and importance of Jewish women in the community.

It baffles me, therefore, that neither the OU nor the RCA has taken a stand against the damaging practice of removing Jewish women and girls from publications that is taking over Orthodox society.

This practice began in the most insular Orthodox communities over the past two decades, and has now become the dominant practice of Orthodox publications, to the great dismay of Orthodox women everywhere.

Entire magazines are devoid of women. There are children’s books, textbooks, comics, and advertisements in which no mothers and no daughters are represented. Beautifully illustrated Shabbat zemirot booklets have grandfathers, fathers and sons; there are no grandmothers, mothers, or daughters. I even have an illustrated Megillat Esther sans Esther.

Shabbat with no mother or daughters (Mefoar Judaica, via Shoshanna Keats Jaskoll)

It’s a bizarre and sad world in which Jewish women are considered immodest, no matter how modestly they dress and act…

Both the OU and the RCA use glowing terms to depict Jewish women in their statements on women clergy:

From the OU: “…female role models are, of course, absolutely critical for the spiritual growth of our community. Communities depend, and have always depended, upon women’s participation in a wide array of critical roles, both lay and professional, that are wholly consistent with Torah’s guidelines.”

From the RCA: “…the Rabbinical Council of America encourages a diversity of halakhically and communally appropriate professional opportunities for learned, committed women, in the service of our collective mission to preserve and transmit our heritage….

Given their recognition of the importance of women in the community at large and their stated respect for women, I found it shocking when, earlier this month, the Orthodox Union’s Jewish Action magazine praised and highlighted the very publications that censor images of Jewish women and girls. The multi-page spread paradoxically spotlighted the women who work for these same publications, while ignoring the fact none of these women — or any other one — can appear in their own publications.

Mishpacha is one of the most prominent publications to omit images of women and girls. When it recently profiled Mrs. Yehudis Jaffe, the article was accompanied by photographs of the educator’s husband and father.

An article on the life and death of Mrs. Yehudis Jaffe, with images of her husband and father, but not herself, in Mishpacha’s Family First (Shoshanna Keats Jaskoll).

Similarly, in these publications, advertisements show smiling male professionals — real estate agents or dentists, for example — yet their female colleagues are represented by flowers, shapeless icons, or simply a name. The uneven portrayal of men and women doing the same job looks ridiculous, but worse is the fact that, since photographs are worth a thousand words of marketing, the female business owners are at a competitive disadvantage with regard to their market share, with reduced chances for livelihood and clientele.

Advertisement for real estate agents. (Shoshanna Keats Jaskoll)

Tens of thousands of Orthodox women, who adhere to the publications’ values outside of this deeply painful and humiliating policy, find the approach disturbing and puzzling. There are Facebook groups dedicated to the sole effort of changing these policies. These women want visible role models for their daughters. They want to see people they identify with in the pages of magazines. They are hurt and confused at the notion that the very presence of a modestly dressed Jewish woman — or girl– is taboo.

Disturbing ad for children’s clothing with an adorable Jewish boy and a headless mannequin in place of a Jewish girl. (Shoshanna Keats Jaskoll)

From the women themselves (ironically enough, names have been changed for their protection):

On finding Jewish women inappropriate and removing positive role models:

“I find it extremely distressing that you refuse to print pictures of girls over 6[-years-old] or appropriately dressed women. In a world where we are constantly bombarded with images of what women ‘should’ look like to be the ‘most’ attractive, it is even more important that our girls can look to frum media for appropriate role models.” — Dina

From a father and rabbi:

“…there is a stark difference between my reading experience and that of my wife and daughters, because whereas the main magazine contains pictures of male role models to whom I aspire, the Family First and Mishpacha Junior magazine don’t have pictures of female role models to whom my wife and daughters wish to aspire, and while ‘a picture tells a thousand words,’ it seems for women, they just have to settle with words. …Tzniut is a positive value, not a negative one, and by failing to publish pictures of tzanua women in your publication, the implied message is that no matter how appropriately dressed a woman is, she is still somehow doing something wrong. As someone who teaches young women in seminary, I assure you that whether this is your intended message, it is the message being received by young women — and even not so young women. The level of anxiousness about tzniut observance today, especially among young women, is unhealthily high, and there are many young women whose self-value and self-esteem is suffering for lack of confidence that they appear as they should, because they lack the examples and role models of what that actually means.” — Rabbi Solinsky

On feeling erased and having nothing to relate to:

“Your family magazine is positioned to show my daughters — and their future zivugim [marriage partners] — what Jewish women can be and should be, within the bounds of halacha. I wish that when my girls look in your magazine and see the amazing people and complex issues of the frum world, that they can begin to see themselves — their tafkid [purpose] — their unique path to avodas Hashem [service of God]. They should not grow up feeling like “strangers” in a world that simply erases them…Role models in Tanach [the Bible] exist, and are revered, but is that relatable? For my daughters, where are their people?” — Sarah

On the lack of halachic basis for censoring Jewish women:

“I do not see how you can justify this practice. To the best of my knowledge, it has no halachic basis and I challenge you to prove otherwise. Just as it was only a few generations ago that men and women sat together at wedding dinners but now are separated, so too, photos of “tzniusdik [modest] Jewish women are as hidden as — lehavdil, Muslim women under burkas. Before you roll your eyes at this, ask yourselves: to what further extent will Jewish women be hidden as they are? What will stop this trend toward narrower and narrower parameters?” — Bracha

On the objectification of Jewish women and girls:

“One of the things that pulled me towards Yiddishkeit [Judaism] from my secular life was what I was told about the status of women: how we were special, different but equal in importance, and how we would not be judged by our bodies but by our shining souls and personalities. It is something I hope to share with my children someday…

When you refuse to print pictures of women in your magazine, it goes against what I was taught. Instead, it shows that women are too dangerous to be seen, that we must be hidden away. This is judging women by their bodies, just as the secular culture I left does. It does not display that women are in any way equal… Not only are you putting women down, you are also doing the same to men. While not displaying pornographic images is clearly commendable, not displaying pictures of women at all implies that any sight of a woman is dangerous to a man, that he is totally incapable of controlling himself when confronted with an image of a properly dressed woman or girl. That too says that women are being judged. Being judged as dangerous..”– Chana

(Shoshanna Keats Jaskoll)

By the hundreds, frum women have contacted the publications to request a change in policy. The responses range from polite “thank you for your feedback” notes to the clear revelation that the feelings of the women for whom the magazines are designed are not important, and neither is halacha or hashkafa.

One example: The annual auction brochure published by Oorah, an organization designed to bring families and children opportunities to connect with their Jewish heritage, contains no images of women. Many, many women emailed the organization to express their dismay, and their intent not to contribute to the cause until pictures of females are returned to the publication. The formal response, received by many, according to their comments on one of those Facebook groups:

Thank you for contacting us. We struggle with this question every year. While we may not agree with it hashkafically, we recognize that, from a fundraising standpoint, it would turn off much of our donor base … we are following the decision of mainstream frum publications who have made this the standard in frum publications.”

Who created this particular standard? Donors? Advertisers? Who then needs rabbinic leadership, if economics drives Jewish policy?

The OU and RCA came out strongly against women clergy of any kind. Their numerous statements and 17-page paper on the matter make their position clear, even as the same documents praise Jewish women and proclaim that they are to be valued. Yet the concerns of the Orthodox women who look to the OU and RCA for rabbinic leadership — women who value Torah and tzniut and truth — are not even on the radar of these organizations. How else to explain their silence on this issue of censorship and objectification that matters so much to so many?

Without question, this policy of removing nearly all images of women and girls from Orthodox publications alienates Jewish women from those who represent Torah. To be clear: the same women that the OU and RCA respect for their place in tradition find themselves excluded by the extreme changes to that tradition, and cannot all remain committed to views that, in fact, are not tradition.

I urge the established Orthodox leadership, in the form of the venerable institutions of the OU and the RCA, to take a stand against this damaging practice of disappearing images of modest Jewish women from Orthodox publications, and stand up for the dignity of Jewish women.

I was going to be the Minister of the Environment. That’s the answer I gave my parents when they asked me my plans for moving from New Jersey to Israel at age 22.

I believed it. And why not? I had a degree in Environmental Studies and was accepted to an MA program at Hebrew University. Living in Israel was the dream; doing what I could to make it better was the plan.

As it happens, within a few weeks, I met my husband-to-be on the beach in Eilat (during a marine biology course!) and, well, five kids and three​ ​transatlantic moves later, I am not the Minister of the Environment.

What I have become is a product of my environment: a reluctant warrior, an accidental activist.

For the past ten years, I have lived on the front lines of religious extremism in Israel, and I have seen it slowly take over both communal and political institutions.

Had I moved to moshav in the Galilee, instead of Beit Shemesh, I’d likely be happily sipping coffee on my porch, watching the sunset, knowing nothing about women being erased from publications, girls relegated to the back of the bus, the struggles of women as they try to leave marriages, or the alarming health statistics of Haredi women.

“The Orthodox community is sliding towards extremism, and the first victims are women.”

 

But I didn’t, and I do. And having stood at the side of an aunt, as she slogged through the misery that is divorce through the Israeli religious court, fighting to be freed from the man who had left her and her children, and having cried and begged the court’s judges to do better, but instead seeing papers “lost,” promises broken, and apathy unhinged, I have become someone who knows too much to hold her tongue.

And so, I began to write. I wrote about agunot, women chained to failed marriages like my aunt, and about the failings of the system. I wrote about women’s images being censored, and about how girls in my neighborhood were being spit on. I wrote what I saw and how I felt and that we must do better.

At that time, I continued to seek help for my aunt. I turned to anyone I could find: lawyers, activists, MKs, rabbis, rabbaniot, legal advocates. Everyone I met introduced me to someone else.

The more I learned, the more I wrote, and the more I wrote, the more I understood.

In the end, I came to perceive a systemic problem in Judaism—the Orthodox community is sliding towards extremism, and the first victims are women.

The sign in the photo above is one of several similar signs in Ramat Beit Shemesh Bet, a neighborhood populated by some of the most extreme sects of Judaism.

It proclaims that all women who enter the area must be modestly dressed — and spells out what that means. The graffiti underneath it echos the sentiment.

“What is the big deal? It’s just a sign. Ignore it,” people say.

But it is not just as sign. It is a symbol of control. It is a rallying point. It is the justification for violent behavior. It is a designation of turf and power.

In this neighborhood, a self-designated “Committee for Purity” decides what images and words may be published. They, and others who follow their lead, levy threats against publications and businesses, and assault those who get in their way. The committee has intimidated local businesses so thoroughly that no locally produced publication depicts women of any age. The local health clinics and banks won’t portray women, making for some disturbing promotions of women’s health featuring only boys and men for whom the same services are irrelevant.

Modest women have been called “shiksa” and “prutza.” Some of us have been spit on as well. Teens walking to their volunteer Shabbat programs have been pelted with garbage, diapers, and even bottles. A teenager cut a woman’s head open with a rock because he didn’t like the way she was dressed.

“It is not just as sign. It is a symbol of control… It is a designation of turf and power.”

It may start with women, but it never ends there. IDF soldiers have been attacked by Haredi men and boys. Women and children call the Israeli police “Nazi,” and garbage bins and tires are burned in the streets.

If the extremism were simply a phenomenon of a small group, it might be possible to ignore. But it is not — how can it be, when it exists on the political level as well?

Of the two Haredi political parties, neither allows women. Though they claim to represent the women of their community, no Haredi MK even attends the committee on women’s health (which is indeed relevant to the women of their community). The lack of representation and of listening to the needs of women has real-life consequences. Haredi women die 30% more of breast cancer than other women, and their life expectancy is 8th out of 10 lowest, compared to Haredi men’s 2nd place. I have been accused of hating Haredim because I have written about these statistics. But I’m speaking out on behalf of the Haredi women; with no Knesset presence, who will fight for their health if we don’t make the situation known?

In the Israeli religious courts, women seeking divorce are too often sent back to abusive husbands, with the judges’ reassurance that they won’t be beaten as long as they don’t ask for a divorce. Agunah cases wait endlessly on the docket, get extortion is not only allowed, but actively encouraged, as the easiest way to achieve a halachically acceptable divorce

“This is not Judaism and this is not Halacha.”

This is not Judaism and this is not Halacha. Anyone who tells you differently is at best ignorant. Much can be done to reverse these injustices without touching Halacha. Changing court practices — even how long it takes for a case to be heard — would eliminate much suffering. Get extortion should be outlawed. Evidence suggests that when women are brought into the process, as advocates, or even as administrators, divorce cases are resolved more quickly and more easily in than the current system.

The trend in Judaism is to circle the wagons, but no one notices those trampled under the wheels.

My conclusions, from all that I’ve seen, is that women have become afterthoughts. Women’s needs are considered after, and so long as they do not interfere with, those of men. Women’s perspectives are not sought out when it comes time to make decisions or establish policies, which means that, very often, women’s perspectives are not taken into consideration. The effects are devastating—on both women and men.

This is not the Judaism I know and love. My religion has been hijacked and I want to take it back. It is not easy. I have seen it repeatedly — how extremism gets worse when no one stands against it. But we must.

Until I move to that moshav in the Galilee, this is where I’ll be: working to get Judaism back on track. Writing, protesting, collaborating with others to resist policies that harm those the Torah is meant to protect. I invite you to join us.

 

 

About The Project
The Jewish Week and “The Layers Project” have collaborated to bring you the series, “Hidden Reflections, Revealed: A Communal Introspective on the Thresholds of Orthodox Femininity.” This is the fifth installment in the series that will contain images and essays that serve as a communal cheshbon hanefesh (accounting of the soul) on the topic of several women’s issues in Orthodoxy. Read the rest of the series here, and look out for the next installment on The Jewish Week. For more personal stories and ‘in-depth insights into the lives of Jewish women,’ check out “The Layers Project” on Facebook. Images created by Shira Lankin Sheps, founder of “The Layers Project.”

Regarding the article thing about woman [sic] and breast cancer, that’s a sobering statistic. Of course it has nothing to do with what I wrote.

In his Mishpacha article, Sruli Besser reflects on his experience on “the other side of the mechitza” during his daughter’s Bais Yaakov graduation. Among the many rebuttals of his piece, which praises Jewish women for being pious and suffering subpar conditions in silence, several people noted that Haredi society’s negligence of women’s needs leads, among other things, to higher rates of breast cancer deaths in the community. According to Israeli studies, Haredi women die 30% more often from breast cancer than women in the general population.

Besser insists this has nothing to do with his jolting experience of what it’s like to be on the women’s side of the mechitza.

But it has everything to do with it.

There is a systemic problem of ignoring women’s experience in Orthodox Judaism, and it has far more severe consequences than stale cookies and poor air conditioning.

In Judaism, those who make policy for the entire community are men. Men, by virtue of being men, don’t experience Judaism as women do. This is natural.

What is not natural, however, is not listening when women describe their experience and ask for change. Communal and rabbinic leaders simply do not consult with women. They don’t allow for serious input from them, and they don’t hear from them about the consequences of communal policy and priorities. Thus, women’s needs come after a long line of other considerations and as a result, policy doesn’t take them into consideration.

This is wholly unnecessary and wrong. Moreover, the failure of policy and priority to consider women leads directly to many of the issues we face in Judaism today.

Policy fails Jewish women.

In marriage and divorce:

Religious courts often ignore the needs and wants of Jewish women and do not use their power to protect them where they should. As a stark example, earlier this year, in Jerusalem, a woman seeking a divorce from the husband who beat her, was refused by the rabbinical court which said, “since he only beat you because you asked for a divorce, you should go back to him and not ask for a divorce and then you won’t be beaten.”

In religious courts, get extortion is encouraged and judges who seekhalachic solutions to terrible situations are punished.

In women’s Jewish life:

Haredi political parties control the Rabbinate, and the Rabbinate controls all Jewish ritual life. Though they purport to represent all those who practice Torah Judaism (including women), no women are on any committee or allowed onto any haredi political party list.

During a Knesset meeting to discuss a Supreme Court case brought by religious women to improve services and practices in the mikvaot, MK Moshe Gafni looked around the room, packed with religious women seeking change and said, “there are no problems in the mikvah!”

law passed only a few years ago placed women on the committee to elect religious court judges for the first time. It guarantees four out of the 11 spots to women. Haredi MKs who opposed the law when it was created are trying to reverse this decision to weaken women’s representation.

In women’s health:

In Israel, Haredi women rank 8th for life expectancy. Haredi men rank 2nd. The disparity is huge.

Yet, not one haredi MK has yet attended the committee on women’s health in the Knesset. The Minister of Health is himself haredi.

‘Kosher’ radio stations won’t say the words ‘breast cancer’ and events on fertility and women’s reproductive health are routinely held with no women presenters or women in the audience.

Haredi women develop breast cancer less often than the general population, yet they die 30% more often. This is a fact confirmed by three medical studies in Israel. The high morbidity rate can be attributed to a number of factors, from poor knowledge of the disease, to the fact that it is considered immodest to talk about, to the intense pressure the community has to appear healthy for marriage matches, to the refusal of many to allow for awareness raising. All of these communal issues add up to women dying.

In the obsession with ‘modesty’:

Women and girls are hurt, confused, and outraged at being blurred or photoshopped out of existence. Yet, when they speak out against the practice, their voices and protests are dismissed. Boys are taught that they cannot look at or see women. They are trained to not see or relate to them, and the balance of society is upended with Jewish women being portrayed as objects of sin to be avoided and shunned.

This leads, as we see in Bet Shemesh, to justifying verbal assault and even violence as men and boys scream ‘shikse’ and throw trash and rocks at girls and women who don’t look the way they think they should.

* * *

Besser says that Halacha is perfect.

This is not about changing Halacha.

This is about changing social policy and priorities towards a more just Jewish society.

When Bnot Zelafchad came to Moshe and all of the communal leaders to claim their portions of the Land of Israel, they said: “Our father died in the desert… has no son. Why should the name of our father be omitted from among his brothers because he had no son? Give us a portion among our father’s brothers.”

Moshe did not dismiss them saying, “The Torah is perfect, accept your lot.” He took their voices seriously, and the law was amended according to their logic and arguments.

For Judaism to thrive, we must end this culture of ignoring women’s experiences.

For Judaism to be healthy, we need to have women’s voices and images as a full part of Judaism.

For Judaism to be just, women must be a part of the process of policy and standardization.

Change on the ground starts with change in the conversation — and that conversation must include the Orthodox Jewish woman’s voice.

See the original article in The Times of Israel

There is nothing new about people sharing vitriol on the internet. Inflammatory language and free-range bigotry seem to be the order of the day, especially when it comes to such charged topics as gender, religion, race or politics. We roll our eyes and click onward.

But what do we do when the person making a particularly nasty display of prejudice holds a position of authority that enables him to directly affect the course of real people’s lives? What happens when words on the screen manifest as policies in real life? And what does it mean for the communities that look to him for leadership?

Recently, Rabbi Steven Pruzansky published a blogpost that was as horrifying as it was logically baffling. In the piece, he argues that rape culture — the ways in which society blames victims of sexual assault and normalizes male sexual violence — does not exist. Instead, he explains, women are simply romantically frustrated liars who invent rape allegations because they’re out of touch with “traditional morality.”

If only women would wait until marriage, stay away from alcohol and just have some self-discipline, he claims, they’d stop getting raped so much. Although, he points out, they’re not actually being raped, as evidenced by the fact that women still attend college. If campus rape statistics were true, he reasons, “no intelligent woman would want to attend college.” This is akin to saying that there cannot be domestic abuse within marriage, because if there were, no woman would be willing to get married. Putting aside the glaring logical fallacy, it seems that in order for Rabbi Pruzansky to take women’s testimony seriously, they should stop surviving so much. He goes on to call rape “unrequited love” and then mocks those who ask for consent as “taking the romance out of romance.”

Going line by line to take apart the absurdity of his arguments, while tempting, has been done and is not the point.

What matters is Rabbi Pruzansky’s position of authority, power, and influence in the Jewish community and how that dangerously takes his views from theoretical to practical. What makes him dangerous is not the misogyny he espouses, but his authority to turn that misogyny into policy, bolstered by the influence he wields with well-respected organizations.

The disclaimer on his blog reads, “The views expressed here are solely my own and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of family, friends, shul, organizations or any other affiliations.” However, Rabbi Pruzansky has written considerably about rabbinic authority and how it confers credibility and power to those who have it. He often cites it in the context of perceived threats to it by those he deems insufficiently authoritative to hold valid views on religious matters, as in the case of allowing women on administrative committees.

But Rabbi Pruzansky can’t have it both ways. He cannot claim that the unique power granted to his opinions by virtue of his position does not carry any responsibility to the institution he serves, or that it suddenly stops carrying weight when it’s inconvenient for him. He cannot enjoy the power — which he claims is highly significant, even in non-rabbinic roles, such as those administrative committees — without accepting responsibility for it.

So how far does that power reach? According to the “About” page on his blog, Rabbi Pruzansky is the rabbi of the largest synagogue in Teaneck NJ, boasting a congregation of about 800 families. He is a trustee of the Rabbinical Council of America (RCA), its former vice president and the chair of its convention; he sits on the board of the Beth Din of America; acts as a dayan (judge of a religious court) on the Beth Din itself; and is a member of the Rabbinical Alliance of America.

When the voice expressing bigotry on the internet belongs to a lawmaker and judge, and not just a random blogger, it goes far beyond hate speech. Dayanim and rabbis wield real control over those who are subject to their rulings and decisions. For example, a dayan’s views on domestic abuse can mean the difference between a woman receiving a chiyuv get (determining that she has the right to a divorce and ordering the husband to grant one) and not.

One of the first things a lawyer or to’enet rabbanit (religious court advocate in Israel) does when approaching a new Beit Din case is check the identities of the dayanim who will hear the case, because their views directly impact the way they rule. We must ensure that those who wield judiciary power in our community adhere to views that are within the range of the norm. A community must feel confident in its dayan’s approach, as it informs his decisions on their financial disputes, divorces, conversions, determining who is Jewish and other high-stakes personal cases.

The RCA is not a neutral structure; it is made up people who act as its agents and determine its character. Does the RCA believe that Rabbi Pruzansky’s views reinforce the kind of character they would like to perpetuate? Is his synagogue proud to have him as their religious and communal representative?

If not, then it’s time for the RCA, Beth Din of America, Rabbinical Alliance of America and his synagogue to look inward and consider ending their affiliation with him. It is time for the larger Jewish community to stop accepting avowed bigots as community leaders.

This is not the first time Rabbi Pruzansky has expressed sexism and hate speech, and it likely won’t be his last. But as long as the next time he voices this kind of drivel to the public, his role is that of private citizen, we’ll be able to — thankfully — roll our eyes and click onward.

*Decreed by Hillel the Elder, a pruzbol is an exercise of rabbinic authority that protects the ability of the poor to receive loans, without fearing that people would hold back due to the cancellation brought about by the sabbatical year.

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