A Judaica Update from Session 2 Week 2

We had a great week in Judaica.  In between the Color War and Village Days we managed to squeeze a couple of excellent Judaic programs.  Oldest Seneca and Mohawk battled out Jewish eco-dilemmas, and Tusc watched Promises, an award-winning film about seven kids who all live in and around Jerusalem but on all different sides of key political issues.  Seneca and Cayuga led our Shabbat services, and did an absolutely beautiful job.  The Seneca ladies, led by great, initiative-taking staff, performed two songs and a dance, while Cayugan boys created the longest paper chain ever to grace the CSL Dining Hall ceiling.  The weather was cool, but our services couldn't have felt more warm and welcoming. 

Discussion periods were also a great success.  Youngest Onondaga and Cayuga did paper bag skits, Middle Onondag and Cayuga engaged in ethical debates about various Jewish issues, and Oldest Onondag and Cayuga did Shabbat-themed sand art.  Youngest Seneca and Mohawk learned about the importance of repairing man as a precursor to repairing the world, and discussed what it means to "repair the world" in a Jewish context.  Middle Seneca and Mohawk did program about kibbutzim, community design, and identity, while Oldest Seneca and Mohawk did a program about Jewish values in a modern context.  Tusc wrote ethical wills, and Oneida learned about our theme of the week, initiative, and how it relates to their program.  We all look forward to a meaningful and memorable third week, and of course, Tusc Shabbat.

Please see below for a copy of my Dvar.

:-)

~Joy~

Dvar – Friday night – Session 2, Week 2

Theme: Initiative

I’ve always loved to dance.  I particularly enjoy “adult” Israeli dance.  I say “adult” Israeli dance because they aren’t like the line dances we sometimes do in Judaica.  These dances are both circle and partner, and are the same all over the world.  There are thousands and thousands of dances, and you can walk into a dance program in Israel, Spain, or Hong Kong and be able to participate.  As a teen I did a tremendous amount of Israeli dance.  My partner and I did twirls and lifts and dips and, like swimming, created an incredible, unparalleled feeling of grace and weightlessness. 

When I came to college I hoped to become involved in the University of Rochester’s Israeli dance performance group.  Unfortunately, by the time I entered college as a freshman, the group has disbanded.  At various points throughout my freshman and sophomore year I thought about starting a group, but something always got in the way.  By junior year I realized that if this was something I wanted, I’d have to take the initiative.  I pulled together a sizeable group, and reserved a slot in the annual dance review.  Then, one by one, my dancers bailed.  By the performance in late April I had two couples.  Despite our low numbers, the performance was absolutely beautiful.  The lifts and dips allowed me to fly through the air and again capture that feeling of total weightlessness, as though my entire body had become one with the music, and nothing else mattered.

Although the group and I hoped to repeat the performance that fall, for me, it wasn’t meant to be.  In late August I severely injured my lower spine.  I had emergency spinal surgery, but there was extensive nerve damage, and I was told that it was unlikely I would ever regain full use of my left leg.  I took a semester off from school, and instead of dancing spent hours upon hours literally relearning how to walk.  I had to relearn how to get in and out of a car with a leg that couldn’t lift itself off the ground.  I had to relearn how to take a shower and not slip on water my left foot couldn’t feel. 

I was incredibly lucky.  I still have the cane, but I rarely use it.  I can’t run far, but I can run.  I can’t hike steep cliffs, but I can walk up short hills.  I can swim, I can jump, I can do an occasional CSL double clap, and I can dance.  But I’ll never dance like I did before the injury.  It’s hard to be graceful when one leg doesn’t always move exactly how you wish.  It’s hard to do lifts or twirls or dips when you’re never 100% sure if one leg will be strong enough to support you when you land.  As much as my limitations frustrate me, whenever I get down, I think of that night in college, and I thank God that I created an opportunity to dance like I’ll never dance again.

This week’s parasha, Shofetim, is all about action.  Shofetim means “judges,” and the parasha outlines how we should structure and judge our society.  We are told that we must establish a court of laws in which the judges are fair and impartial.  We are told that the judges must work in the best interests of the community and not accept favors or bribes that would benefit the wealthy over the poor.  We are told that if we want we may establish a monarchy, but within very specific guidelines.  For example, the king should not acquire great wealth.  He should use Jewish traditions and laws as a moral guide, and be an Israelite, ie: someone who is part of the community and not outside of it. 

I’m not a world leader.  I’m not even a local leader.  I’m a graduate student, who spends a most of her time reading, writing, thinking, and teaching.  And waitressing.  In that sense, perhaps Shofetim doesn’t relate to me.  I’m not a judge, and I’m certainly not a king.  Yet when looked at in a different light, Shofetim absolutely relates to me.  From this parasha we learn not only about leadership, but about personal initiative.  Shofetim teaches us that things don’t just happen – whether fair courts, new roads, or college performances – but that rather it is people who make things happen.  We learn that we can’t wait around for people to give us the lives we want, but rather that it is our job to take initiative and build the life we want.  We learn to not let opportunities to do great (or small) things pass us by, for ourselves or someone else, because life is short, and you just never know when it might be your last dance.  Shabbat Shalom.