Best Future Father? Elijah Wood

Hands down, Elijah wood is going to be one of the best dads out there. I know this because of a favorite childhood memory I don't share often enough.

It’s about a gameboy. A gameboy, and Elijah Wood. Who, many women my age hope, is a boy with game.

Elijah at a more recent Disney release - Tron: Uprising

Ok, so now he is a man. A very attractive, successful, talented man. One we’ve been following since childhood. So, travel with me back to a time when we was indeed a boy, and he let me use his gameboy. It was late summer/early fall 1989. The gameboy had just been released on the market and though I would eventually get mine in the form of a chanukah gift that winter, I’d only seen commercials for this $99 pocket computer. But in those first few months between knowing about a gameboy and being able to play my own, it was a cultural status symbol and we were all obsessed with it.

I hadn’t yet played one as school was called into session that fall. In fact, I wasn’t in school, I was on set filming a “Disney educational film.” I don’t talk about that set very often. Realistically, there isn’t a lot that’s exciting about actually teaching people not to run with scissors when you don’t work in a classroom. But the set was filled with lots of cool kids, including a new friend playing a real-life pinocchio. His name was Elijah and our mothers sat together, bonding over their shared experiences. Being a stage-mom has a lot to bond over.

While they were swapping stories about their commutes to LA (Elijah’s was farther than my drives from Orange County. He’d started his career while still in Iowa), they connected, and I overheard that Elijah’s siblings had biblical names, like his.

The thing that stood out most to me, though, was when all the kids had down time in the trailer. There was a line of people who’d called dibs to play Mario Brothers on Elijah’s gameboy (do you remember a time when those graphics were impressive?). When it came to my turn, my very first turn playing on a gameboy ever, the other boys all said “why bother letting her play? She’s just going to lose anyway.”

Elijah defended the decision to let me have my turn. He may have literally, word for word, been repeating whatever his parent’s policies were on sharing toys, but there he went. It went something like: “Nope, it’s her turn, she waited in line and gets a turn too.”  I really appreciated the opportunity, in that moment, to play a video game like the line of boys before and after me. I’m far from a “gamer” but it let me know what having a brother would be like (4 years prior to becoming a sister) and, more importantly, what being a gentleman looks like.

So, to whoever gets to (eventually) have Elijah parent their kids, you’re lucky. This guy knows what it means to treat women well, to share, and to create space for people to fail. Because obviously, I killed off Mario in record time that day.

PS don’t run with scissors. And no, I don’t have a copy of the film. It’s in the "vault" somewhere and my friend who works at Disney hasn’t been able to locate it. Maybe Elijah ended up with a copy for his reel.

Cover to Cover

I wrote this piece for a spoken word presentation called a "sermon slam" that was held over shavuot, the holiday that celebrates the Jews receiving the ten commandments at Sinai. The topic had to relate to "Torah" in some way.  

I don't know if you remember the first book of Torah that you read in your native tongue. If you remember that first chunk of Tanach you sat and read cover to cover, start to end. Instructed only to understand the grace of the language or story before you.My first cover to cover story was Job.Job.An English assignment given my senior year in my public high school. By the way, the first I’d read in Hebrew (the language I did not yet comprehend, with moments of translation, only glanced) was Eicha. Good luck to me and my theology.The Job assignment was on adaptation and was followed by a reading of the play JB by Archibald Macliesh (I recommend it.) But before that, we dove deep into the Torah. When a day-school educated classmate attempted to read aloud the Hebrew of God's poem, the voice from within the whirlwind, I learned the complicated poetry of Torah and I also learned that Job of Ur was not a Jew.So I went through the rest of my life just knowing this.
Other parts of books of Torah I'd been taught as a child had been disproven, or rather reclassified as Midrash. But this text I knew intimately.

From Eicha to Job, the ancient Jewish literature I'd been exposed to outside of Shabbat morning services was gritty and complicated, like my dear Maya Angelou the poet, the author who'd inspired me for years. She was able to tell deeply personal stories. Dirty secrets and all.

God seemed to have spared no secrets from us, the Israelites in ancient times, which were carried to each of us. And so I was ready to engage with a God who kept no secrets from me. In fact, before I got intimate with Job I was intimate with Kabbalah. (I know, right?)

I don't know if you remember the first sermon you slammed, the first Jewish text you taught. But mine were the kabbalistic teachings of Isaac Luria who gives to us that when our endless God, (known as) Ein Sof created the world a shattering had to occur to make space for us and the world as we know it, and divine sparks spread across the land. Ein sof left these sparks, markers, for us to gather, to act in concert with God by committing an act of repair, of Tikkun Olam.

What is your Tikkun olam? Is it the Torah you teach or the Torah you practice? Is it the way you spread light in the world, or amongst your closest friends? No matter the reach, your Torah, you, have value and worth beyond measure. So share yourself. Bring the spark. Or perhaps, you can let the spark be brought to you.

Just four years after I'd first uncovered Job I sat where God often isn't. Summer school. In a theology course. There, we reapproached Job with a professor who said, "I learn from my students, and I teach what they say when I lecture across the country, but I've never been given reason to quote my undergraduates" I gave him a reason. He asked why Job has been included in our canon. My answer felt trite to me.

When he teaches Job, he teaches me. And it seems, whenever I learn, Job finds me. Just last week, I picked up the newest book written by my most revered teacher, Adin Steinsaltz. It's called "My Rebbe" about the lubuvitcher rebbe. Until just a few years ago the very thought of the rebbe made me shiver. When I was living across the country and he was Ill, I attended Lubavitch yeshiva. We were made to fast for him twice. I was in 5th grade. You can imagine that went over none too well.

But back to, My Rebbe. Not even a full page in, Steinsalz writes "The concept of holiness is not confined to traditional Jewish thought; nor are holy people only Jews. An entire book of the Bible tells the story of one such holy man who was not a Jew: Job.  His conversation, as presented in Scripture, speaks of the spiritual realm, about a connection beyond the everyday world."

And in the next chapter, he focuses on the idea of Tikkun Olam referencing first its mention in the Aleinu prayer. He explains: “The work is ours to do. None of us is exempt from this universal mission. The completion of the world, its elevation into holiness and the elimination of evil: these tasks belong to all of us. In this way, we achieve God’s purpose in creating humanity.” He goes on to say Chasidic thought here rests on an ancient mystical tradition: the world is imperfect because God is hidden. It is true that – whether revealed or hidden – the Almighty is everywhere. A godly spark resides within everything in creation.”

Somehow my Torah is Steinsaltz’s Torah, is his Rebbe’s Torah, is my Torah. Handed. Down. Unknowingly. Perhaps. We are all in line for this Torah.

But I ask you now: What is your Torah? What text circles its way back in to your life over and over and over again? What is holy to you? What is the Torah that can be taught in your name? Mine is simple. If faith in our Lord can be held by the downtrodden non-Jew, shouldn't it also be held by you? It should certainly be held by me.  A keepsake. If the Torah can be used as a tool to understand God, if it can be used as a tool to understand humanity, if it can be understood as a tool to understand holiness. I want to be immersed in Torah for the rest of my life.

That's all I'm asking as you sit or stand at Sinai. Each time you approach Torah or Torah approaches you. Make space. Make space in your heart make space in your life make space in your dreams. If you create room for Torah, however you define it, your path will be more clear, your heart more complete, your teachings spread amongst all who are here to listen.

May her memory be a blessing...

Today, a woman who was very influential in my life passed away. This is the piece I wrote about my memories of her in the middle of June, having heard she was sick. I wrote while recovering from my second surgery on my leg.

Thinking about dance after not having danced for six months made me extremely happy, if tearful... I'm not yet up to the kind of dance that would have impressed Fran, but I am back on two feet and working towards it.

My memories:
I remember the first day I met you, Fran. I was stretching outside the audition room, waiting for West Side Story dance auditions to start. I was a freshman and I’d only signed up for dance and acting auditions, I think. I didn’t yet have a strong enough voice to sing for Alan. At least, that was the impression I had from my mother’s high standard. Anyway, I hadn’t set foot in Theater South yet except to see the production of Our Town (and the One Acts). I was avoiding high school drama, by avoiding drama all together - because I held a Sag and Aftra card, and how would that go over w/typical teenagers who were dreaming of life on the stage?

But despite my attempts to avoid my TS fate, I became friends w/so many cast and crew members. I thought, perhaps, I would hone my craft. I’d already decided I wanted to commit my time to cultivating friendships rather than getting rejected by the casting agents William Morris sent me to. So, finally, a friend (Greg Stemkowski) who knew about my childhood acting (from catching the Disney movie I was in that played on channel 11), convinced me to get involved. Who could refuse a face like Greg’s?

So there I was, warming up right outside of the audition room. I was wearing a black bodysuit and what would probably pass as yoga pants these days. I’d only lived in Great Neck for just over a year, and very few people knew much about my life back in California. Some girl said, “hey, you dance for real, don’t you?” I’d been taking dance classes since I was 2 1/2.  “I’ve taken lessons,” I called back nonchalantly. Everyone had probably taken lessons, at least amongst the girls. That’s what moms do with their daughters, right? I had taken 3 kinds of dance, which eventually became 4, ballet, tap, jazz and ‘street funk’ — but you know all of that, Fran, because you recognized it too - immediately - and gave me a role in West Side Story that took my breath away with every high kick. There I was, a featured dancer, and I promise you, every part of my body thought that those moments on stage would become my college essay.

The rush of getting a routine perfectly right as the curtain closed on a pose impossible to hold for just one more second, that was one of the most exhilarating feelings I ever could have imagined having. I was a Shark. It didn’t matter that my pale complexion and red-hair would have told you otherwise. A lesson in bronzer ensued. And my expertise in eyeliner did not go to waste. In fact, it became my reputation so much so that I’d often do make-up for the guys in shows for the coming years. How I loved having that skill, and so what if it came from professional make-up artists, very few people would ever know that.

On stage without wardrobe malfunctions.

The following year we did Cabaret, so, of course, with my voice still inconsistent despite it’s years of training, I was dancing my sexiest heart out. On stage in Victoria’s Secret underwear, and a sequined Banana Republic vest that my New-York-City-living aunt had bought me. I have the picture and I’m not sure how my mother bought me those items w/out asking more questions! During previews, you remember, those times we would show a few scenes in an assembly with nearly the whole school in attendance? We did a big kit kat club number that, thanks to the structure of the preview ended with curtains down (and darkness). Lucky me, as I was laying with my back on the ground doing a full split in the air, when the vest, formerly snapped shut, bust wide open. That’s what I got for not letting you do my costuming, I guess.  But I don’t know if I ever told you. In fact, I told as few people as humanly possible. Instead of explaining the situation, I formed an internal lacing system with safety pins and, of things I had handy, glow in the dark elastic. It survived the shows, but I never could look at that vest again.  In fact, to this day when I’m asked my most embarrassing moment, that’s the first story that comes to mind.

So back to where I started, the first day dancing with you became many days, and to my good fortune, even when my priorities changed in high school, and I started observing shabbat my junior year, you found me in the halls and asked, “Sheridan, why didn’t you audition for the musical this year?” And I explained to you that I couldn’t imagine getting approval not to perform on a Friday night. “What?!” You said, aghast! “I would have built choreography for that! Of course I would. To not have you on stage is a real loss.” I couldn’t believe my ears, Fran. And thanks to that conversation, I did Music Man in my senior year. And while I couldn’t accept the singing solo Alan Schwartz offered because I’d be out Friday night, I could dance my heart out because you knew how to make that happen. Your choreography was a blessing, even when it was difficult. Even when we had to go over it again. It would always elicit a smile from yours truly.

You are truly one of the reasons I am able to look back fondly at Great Neck South. For its uniqueness, its understanding, its ability to meet my needs as a student, learner and active participant in the community. I went on to get to BAs - one in English and one in Modern Jewish Studies (from Columbia and the Jewish Theological Seminary) and from there, my Master’s in Education, focusing in informal and communal Jewish education, also at JTS.  I worked with teenagers for the first three years after graduate school - first creating educational material for youth groups and then at the Sid Jacobson JCC, where I was encouraged many times to get involved in their musical. Then, I started working at my alma mater - Columbia University. Nearly five years later, I’m still here, serving as the Assistant Director of the Institute for Israel and Jewish Studies. I sometimes joke with my colleagues and the PhD students and faculty whom I oversee that my public high school was a lot like a yeshiva. I learned the book of Job, I took Hebrew, I was able to comfortably observe shabbat … remarkable, really. You were part of that experience, and I’m so grateful to say that’s so. While in college, I had the opportunity to see Cabaret on Broadway with Alan Cumming as the Emcee - it was extraordinary, to sit at the small tables so close to the performers and smile so big to keep myself from belting out the songs with the cast. From the obscene to the absurd and back again, or as they say in Cabaret; “every night we have the battle to keep the girls from taking off all of their clothing. So don’t go away, who knows? Tonight we may lose the battle!” Well, I wish you well with every battle you face, a complete healing as we say in hebrew, a refuah sheleima. Thank you for always being an inspiration in your dedication, understanding and commitment to excellence.

Love always, Sheridan Gayer GNSHS ’95-’99

P.S. I write this just days after having a very involved surgery to correct something that went wrong when I broke my leg in January. I have run a tour in Israel on crutches since then, but I have hobbled around with a cane since. Right now I’m in a cast for the second time in six months, and for the next two weeks I’m not to do anything but keep my leg elevated and use crutches when I go to the bathroom or get up for water. The less often I’m up, the happier the doctors are. That’s a long way of saying I haven’t walked normally in almost six months, and it has been a privilege to recall my days on stage with you during my own recovery.

Broad Strokes & Big Pictures: Moses, the Exodus and Israel Today

D'var Torah for Chai Minyan at Shaare Zedek, Jan 4, 2013
 
Here we are, at the start of Shemot, the second book of the Torah.  We're immediately concerned with the naming of the generations, the tribes, and their plentiful offspring, but our main focus is really Moses.  Moses has his fair share of difficulty with identity development and in his relationship with God, but eventually he gathers the Israelites for the culmination of Shemot's story--the act for which the Greek speaking Jews of Alexandria, Egypt named this book-- the Exodus Aigyptous.  Which generations of Jews have shortened to what we call Exodus.  

Ok- for those of you that missed it - there’s my crazy cool fact straight from Nahum Sarna - The name Exodus is derived from Jews whose vernacular was Greek. I like the notion that even the non-hebraicized name evolved from our people, who lived within Egypt at the time. And even though that leaves us considering two different types of Jews, in two different places, using different languages, I really want *us* to focus tonight on the broadest strokes we can imagine for Jews, no matter time or their location.

You see, recently I attended an event where David Ben Gurion’s grandson told stories of David’s experiences as the Prime Minister of Israel. In 1954, he traveled to the United States to meet with President Eisenhower and seek the help and support for difficult moments of the fledgling Israel. During that trip, in a meeting with the then State Secretary of Administration, John Foster Dulles, Ben Gurion was confronted with a high degree of arrogance:
Tell me, Prime Minister –  Dulles said - Who are the people you and your country really represent?” How is it that Jews are really the same? Being that they are Jews of Yemen, Poland, Romania, Morocco, Iraq, the Soviet Union or Brazil ”? After 2000 years of exile, can we really be talking about one nation, one culture, one legacy of Jewish tradition?

Now, for those of you knowledgeable about Israeli immigration waves and even current policies, you might be inclined to agree with Dulles at least to some extent.

But Ben-Gurion replied:
“See, Mr. Secretary, and only 200 years ago the ship Mayflower sailed from England with the first settlers who settled in what is now is the great democratic powers called the United States of America. Please, walk out on the streets and ask ten North American children the following:
What was the name captain of the ship? How long was the journey? What did the passengers eat during the Journey, and how did the sea behave? Probably , you will not get many accurate answers,” he surmised.
But “Please see now it’s been 3,000 years since the Jews left Egypt. I ask you that in one your travels around the world, try and meet ten Jewish children in different countries; asked them what was the travel called?
What was the name captain of the group?
How long was the journey?
What were the passengers eating during the journey, and finally ask how did the sea behave?
“When you have the answers, and wonder again about Israel, try to remember and appreciate the question you just asked me”.

Lately, the media has focused a lot on what separates one type of Jew from another. Whether it’s so called “Jewish garb,” economic standing, Israeli politics, women of the wall - or larger issues of gender segregation - color of skin, country of origin,  issues surrounding right of return,  or more complicated still, right to identify as a Jew, or marriage rights, it is so easy to get caught up in the disparate  and often disheartening reality. Sometimes, these are issues relevant to American society or global Jewish issues, sometimes Israel takes an American idea and translates it for it’s own cultural impact. This spring, for instance, a production of Hairspray will be performed with the Ethiopian cultural center in Jerusalem, in an effort to raise awareness about race relations in Israel. But for now, I’d like to set aside the dirty differences that may frustrate us. To acknowledge that “claims” on Torah are difficult, complicated, and understanding of Torah is ever evolving. I’d like to suggest that while this particular book of Torah emphasizes the difficult necessity of the Israelite journey from Egypt to Israel, this Parsha focuses on the hardship at home. It provides space for dissenting opinions. Moses is critical of himself and questioning of God. He doesn’t trust that he can convey God’s message to the “elders of Israel,” so much so he allows his brother to speak for him even after being given the rod that will allow him to conduct miracles to imbue the elders with faith. He’s run out of Egypt once and his confidence is shot.

I have to say - if the path of righteousness isn’t inherent or natural or even direct for the leader whom we give as the gold standard, all the moreso it doesn’t have to be for us. I am hoping we can all find more compassion where we differ from one another and when we approach the other, as well as when we approach Torah.

May we all be blessed to loosen our bounds on Torah, to listen to others understanding, reading, interpretation and incarnation. May we know a Torah that has endless life and endless meaning. May we not be limited by a search for proof, for evidence, for our own hand prints on the building bricks of the Egypt that remains today. But may we also build communities of Torah that reflect our values, our understanding, our interpretations, and may we learn to teach one another when we hear the voice of God and when we raise our voices in prayer.

(One final thought) Just over the holiday season there was a two part series entitled “Back to the Beginning” which was Christiane Amanpour’s search, along with her son, for the root of the three major monotheistic religions - in a scene where she was attempting to find where Noah’s Ark rests. One commentator, the author of Walking the Bible pointed out - We’re not going to find some lost voice of God, like a Beatles recording, that we can digitally remaster and put out for all to experience on the internet,” … many people believe that “if you can prove that one screw existed, you can prove that the entire machine existed” … 3000 years of our story and we’re still telling it in exciting, enlivening ways. We're gathering to hear it, to repeat it, to celebrate it. For me, that’s enough to prove the entire machine exists… although God as a Beatles album sure would be sweet.

Embracing the Irrational

This is just one of many techniques I used in order to heal well and feel well after tearing my cartilage just eleven weeks ago.

Undo, not to, aka my "ignore" list

My ignore list is not about a Facebook feature ... although, today Facebook was on it.

My ignore list is the thing I create when I have a few urgent priorities... and don't want any distractions. Today, I had a short work day due to doctor's appointments and the like. I left my phone in my purse, I had a mini lunch of yogurt and low fat granola. Kept things short and sweet.

On my way to work I compiled what I wouldn't do today for the hours I was in my office: No errands on campus, no break for lunch, no facebook unless it's work related (usually, I take a FB break during lunch and, occasionally a really short one during my 3 o'clock slump/tea break etc). Sometimes I cut personal email too, today, I did.

It's a great way to focus and even relax a bit ... When I left the office, I had that momentary "where's my phone?" lapse, because I couldn't imagine leaving it in my bag for 6 hours.

When you're over committed, give yourself permission to disconnect from a number of things that distract you along the way. It will keep you organized, and especially if "to do" lists make you cringe for any reason, this is another approach to help you out!

Do you have organizational strategies that keep you focused on a tough day? Do you cringe at to-do lists? What's your organizational dilemma, at work or home?

Bargaining (a Tactic for Children, and Children of God)

Oh, that tactical aspect of negotiation. I've heard a lot of it lately.
Maybe it's because I've been taking public transit while I recover (at break neck speeds thanks to my extraordinary physical therapist and support system!). Maybe it's the fact I have a handful of friends who are currently grieving. Perhaps it's just the appropriate time of year, so I'm attuned to it.

Never mind the reason. When, over the course of two days, I overhear three conversations where kids are bargaining with a parent, I know something particularly cosmic is going on. Young boys, in most of these instances, pleading for a dog, or a delayed bed time. Bargaining with a mom, it seems, is not entirely different than the rituals we participate in, bargaining for our own freedoms in the coming year with our ever present parent, God.

These sons' pleas reminded me of the promises we all make, to take care of something or someone outside of ourselves (with the likes of "I'll walk the dog!" and "can my younger brother stay up too?") , the type of promises we have to disavow ourselves of as we are seated at the table of "who shall live and who shall die" this Friday night.

What I most understood from the familiar banter, stereotypical though it seemed, "I will never ask for anything again" and a "please" that held enough extra vowels to fill all the seats on the M104, was that the negotiation between parent and child is one of unique compassion, patience and attentiveness. One mother allowed her child to go through the entire argument without interruption. She let him put all of his explanations out on the table. Another said no to each sentence. Our parent is one who does not always answer right away. One who's answer we don't always agree with or want to hear. Sometimes we find God silent for too long. Long enough to wonder whether God is an absence rather than a divine presence.

May we all come to prayer this holiday season knowing that God is everything or anything we need. God may even be what we don't know we need. Our strength is in knowing how to share ourselves, our motivations, our desires, our dreams. It helps to be aware that God may not answer us right away, or in the way that we'd hoped. Because while God may not have limitations, we all do. Like a child begging to stay up late, I cannot always see the ramifications my desires might have in tomorrow's light. I hope we can each break through walls that need to be broken and identify the patterns that no longer serve us, and most importantly, I hope that we learn to better serve one another in the coming year.

May you be inscribed in the book of life, and may we all help write our own books this year.

My Attitude of Gratitude: Cultivated in 2010

I’m not the kind of woman who seeks mentors. I have found a rare few in my life, a professor who I worked for in college and graduate school, a colleague or two. But typically, I’m a fiercely independent person. That’s why, in reflecting on what I’m so grateful for this past year, I’m surprised to say that the first thing that pops into my head after health, is one Sissy Block. A wonderful friend, I am feeling particularly grateful to her because she made me a generous offer this year. She suggested we become “writing partners” - she is the person with whom I meet weekly or bi-monthly to sit beside as we write our respective creative projects. Both are books. Very different, very fictionalized, but both very personal. Having someone beside you while you pour your guts onto a page (or computer screen) is unbelievably validating. What sometimes felt self indulgent now feels powerful, significant, important, occasionally even urgent.

Our “writing dates,” as I call them, alternate neighborhoods for convenience and optimal wifi (though it’s not on the whole time we write! Focus is key). Most days we get over the loud study group or bad date nearby. In fact, if it’s a bad date I usually use it for material for the book I’m working on. Showing up for a writing date is like a planned coffee with a best friend. If you’ve ever had the type of friend who you could pick up with whether it had been one week or one year, that’s the feeling I get when I walk into a room to write with Sissy. She and I don’t need to catch up, the book and I do, and because Sissy’s there, I can pick up exactly where I left off.

When I’m sick, but we meet anyway, I find that I actually do my best writing. My most insecure thoughts, my most off-limit topics, suddenly become easier to deal with than my stomach ache … and I just write - no holds barred. Some really beautiful things come from those moments.

When we take a break from writing to catch up on our personal lives, after all, Sissy and I know each other from volunteering together and get along quite nicely on our own, Sissy reminds me to “write it” to “use it” because it’s here, it’s real. “It” has become better and better thanks to her encouragement. The gratitude we have for one another, for the forward momentum we create by being together in our creative efforts is palpable most days.

Sometimes we laugh out loud at our writing. We share exciting moments of character development. Her project is farther along than mine - and I know that she’ll come to me one day and say she doesn’t need to meet any more... but having her beside me as I’ve taken my first steps on this journey of writing my first novel makes me feel like I’ve taken strides where I would have taken baby steps, and for that I am forever grateful.

Sissy Block and I both have full time jobs working within Jewish academia. We are both active volunteers for Limmud NY. In fact, we met at Limmud NY. You never know where you will be when someone wonderful impacts your life. I’m just lucky we found one another!