old wounds
Nov. 15th, 2003 06:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gilanaI went to shul last night. It's really a minor miracle that I've been going almost every week, and enjoying it; it's been a long time since I've found a Jewish community I liked so much, and I've frankly never enjoyed going to shul much. There was a guest rabbi leading the services last night. There are points in the davening when everyone is praying aloud to themselves at their own pace, and he made a point of encouraging everyone to really pray aloud, not just in a mumble under the breath. He said that it creates a kind of a buzz where you're not really aware of what anyone else is saying, and don't feel self-conscious.
The first time we got to that point, I started trying to read the prayer -- and found tears suddenly pouring down my cheeks.
I'd never thought of it this way before, but I am illiterate in Hebrew. And like many illiterates, I've gotten very good at hiding it. Most of the prayers that are commonly said out loud together or sung, I know by heart. I have a good ear, and I can follow most songs a split-second behind everyone else. And I've mastered the Orthodox speed-mumbling, including enough of the real words to be convincing. I had to; at the Yeshiva I grew up in, I was punished for not praying well enough or loud enough. They didn't actually teach me how, just yelled at me when I didn't do it.
I do know the Hebrew letters, and I can sound words out. But reading unfamiliar words out loud, I sound like a first grader. And as someone who prides herself on her literacy and language skills, in addition to having a history as being the most religious Jew in most groups I've found myself -- well, it's painful and humiliating.
And yet... I had to stop once to go find tissues, and each time I got to one of those out-loud bits the tears started again, but somehow with the sound of other people all praying out loud, it did help. I stopped being aware of everyone around me, stopped caring what they might think to hear me sounding the words out one at a time, and did it.
No one gave me any funny looks during the service, and afterwards a friend came over and held me and listened and didn't seem to think any worse of me. (I hope you know how much that meant to me; thank you from the bottom of my heart.) And I got other hugs from other friends who didn't even need to know what was wrong, just that I needed a hug.
I'm furious at Torah Academy that it made me feel this way. I'm furious at myself for letting my shame keep me from something that matters so much to me. But... I'm hopeful. I've finally found a community that I really want to be a full part of. And I've met a bunch of wonderful Jews-by-choice in the past year, many of whom seem more fluent with the prayers and laws and Jewish minutia than I am. And they've learned it all as adults. That means if I stop putting my energy into pretending and start trying to actually learn, I know I can.
The first time we got to that point, I started trying to read the prayer -- and found tears suddenly pouring down my cheeks.
I'd never thought of it this way before, but I am illiterate in Hebrew. And like many illiterates, I've gotten very good at hiding it. Most of the prayers that are commonly said out loud together or sung, I know by heart. I have a good ear, and I can follow most songs a split-second behind everyone else. And I've mastered the Orthodox speed-mumbling, including enough of the real words to be convincing. I had to; at the Yeshiva I grew up in, I was punished for not praying well enough or loud enough. They didn't actually teach me how, just yelled at me when I didn't do it.
I do know the Hebrew letters, and I can sound words out. But reading unfamiliar words out loud, I sound like a first grader. And as someone who prides herself on her literacy and language skills, in addition to having a history as being the most religious Jew in most groups I've found myself -- well, it's painful and humiliating.
And yet... I had to stop once to go find tissues, and each time I got to one of those out-loud bits the tears started again, but somehow with the sound of other people all praying out loud, it did help. I stopped being aware of everyone around me, stopped caring what they might think to hear me sounding the words out one at a time, and did it.
No one gave me any funny looks during the service, and afterwards a friend came over and held me and listened and didn't seem to think any worse of me. (I hope you know how much that meant to me; thank you from the bottom of my heart.) And I got other hugs from other friends who didn't even need to know what was wrong, just that I needed a hug.
I'm furious at Torah Academy that it made me feel this way. I'm furious at myself for letting my shame keep me from something that matters so much to me. But... I'm hopeful. I've finally found a community that I really want to be a full part of. And I've met a bunch of wonderful Jews-by-choice in the past year, many of whom seem more fluent with the prayers and laws and Jewish minutia than I am. And they've learned it all as adults. That means if I stop putting my energy into pretending and start trying to actually learn, I know I can.
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yay
Date: 2003-11-16 07:52 pm (UTC)be proud of yourself for letting that fear and trepidation go, even for a few moments..
and you will overcome it, and learn enough to make yourself proud enough to sing out loud, and cry in joy, not shame..