The Outsider

“Larena, are they brainwashing you? Why aren’t you eating the delicious pelmeni that Babula made?”

My grandfather asked me this question almost every week. I shook my head and respectfully responded, “No Deda, they aren’t brainwashing me, no one is. I’m just not hungry, I just ate.” The truth is I was starving, but I wasn’t going to say that. I couldn’t eat the pelmeni that my grandmother made because she used non-kosher meat. But believe me when I say it was difficult to deny the steaming hot plate of mini Russian-style dumplings coming my way. Instead, I looked down at my plate filled the with the salad I made at home. I tried to tell myself that it was enough, which it probably was, but I felt as though I was about to eat a minimally appetizing pile of leaves. I love to eat, so one might think that out of all the laws of Judaism, keeping kosher for a foodie like me would be one of the more difficult rules to hold. I wish this were close to the truth. There are many obligations, including daily prayers, dressing modestly, treating others fairly, and keeping the laws of Shabbat, just to name a few that are harder than keeping kosher. However, none of these compare to dealing with the rejection I face from my family.

“What is the point of all of this? Stop limiting yourself. Do whatever you want.” Or, “Why do you make everything so complicated for yourself? These rules do not make any sense.” I don’t want to be disrespectful, but I want to tell them that they make total sense to me. I love Jewish law even though it is challenging to uphold at times. But my family isn’t open to learning about how my faith shapes my life.
I studied at a Jewish high school, so naturally, my family thinks that my ‘abnormal’ behavior stems from teachers that are brainwashing me to do “cult-like rituals.” A couple examples of said cult rituals include reciting a small prayer after eating a meal or listening to a lecture on the importance of modesty. Their comments and pointed silences emphasize the misunderstanding between us. In response, I try to make my religious practices as inconspicuous as possible. I recite morning prayers before anyone wakes up and listen to lectures with my earbuds. However, these tactics don’t work effectively on family trips.

On a trip to the Bahamas we went on recently, it became increasingly difficult to keep up with my family. Friday to Saturday night, I couldn’t join my family on festive activities, like boat tours or swimming with dolphins, because I want to observe Shabbat. When my family goes out for dinner to exotic restaurants, I am only a spectator in the event. My parents enjoy flavorful fish kabobs, my siblings devour a colorful dessert, and I swirl my water around my cup and look the matching clean plate in front of me. My father asks, “Seriously, Loren… what’s wrong with fish? It’s just fish.” The rest of my family nods in agreement. Nothing is wrong with fish, I think to myself, I just can’t eat it unless it is kosher.

There is nothing in the world that means more to me than my family. My love for my parents and my two younger siblings is unparalleled. When we all eat dinner at home together on Friday nights, we talk about our lives and reconnect to each other; the conversations we share enable me to take on the rest of my week. The five of us support each other through anything and everything, with my religious commitments and aspirations being the only exception. It feels strange to hide my religious identity from them even if they too are biologically Jewish. I cannot help but wonder, who will accept this significant part of my life if not my own flesh and blood? I don’t want to constantly prove myself to my family or conceal myself from them. In an ideal world, I would want them to embrace my religious identity, or at the very least be indifferent toward it. Although I have been learning to practice Judaism quietly so that I belong. However, it makes me feel distant from both my family and my religion to live with these differences. In the future, I hope to build a bridge between these two essential parts of my life so that I can close the chasm.

September 16, 2019