A Public Etiquette Reminder to Marrieds and New Parents

Just a little public service announcement, to keep us all as thoughtful and sensitive as possible . . .

This has been said before by people better than I, but it bears repeating:

Never say anything to a single person that you wouldn't say to an infertile couple.

It's a pretty easy rule of thumb to follow, really.

If you wouldn't say "soon by you" (say, at a bris) to a couple who has been married for 8 years and hasn't had any children, then you may want to think twice before saying "soon by you" to a single person at an engagement party or a wedding. If you wouldn't say "may we hear happy news from you soon" to a woman who has been undergoing invasive fertility treatments, then avoid saying it to a person who has been dating for a long time.

Obviously, if you are tempted to say one of these phrases, then you mean really well and sincerely want this single person to be happy. But actually -- you may not realize this-- many, many singles find these phrases, if not outright painful, then annoying at best.

How about just saying "all the best to you" or "may Hashem bless you with only sweet things"? These are very kind, generic sentiments which, when said sincerely, mark you as a nice and friendly person, without drawing unfortunate and unwanted attention to the single person's state of singlehood.

In the interest of lifting us all up to higher levels of sensitivity, I would like to add an example that is not much discussed: the mass emailed birth story.

Let me explain what I'm not talking about.

Birth announcements are great. A formal card or an email which announces the birth is clearly something that you would send, even to people struggling with infertility (if they are close to you), because, after all, the fact that you had a baby is important news to anyone who cares about you.

For example, the following sort of text is, I would guess, always welcome:

"I'm pleased to announce that my wife Rachel gave birth on Monday night at 4:30 am to a beautiful little boy. All went well, thank God, and mother and baby are fine (if more than a little tired). Rachel and the baby are expected to come home this afternoon, and the naming will take place tomorrow morning at Congregation Shomea Tefilla. Details about the bris are forthcoming. May we all share happy occasions. All the best, Josh Cohen."

From this short email we know a lot of information, either stated or implied: that the baby has arrived, it is a boy, it is healthy, and that Rachel Cohen has had a normal birth -- that is, an extremely tiring and probably very painful experience which resulted, miraculously, in the emergence of a precious new human being. We know that the couple was up all night. We know that the father has survived the experience and is very happy and has lived to write this email. We know that Rachel and Avraham consider us to be close enough friends that they want to keep us informed of this very important event in their lives, and that they will continue to inform us of events that have communal import, such as the bris.

In other words, we know all that we really need to know, and perhaps then some. All the important points are included. Anything that is really our business, and which keeps us feeling emotionally close to the couple, is included in those five lines.

If, God forbid, something had gone wrong, I think it would be appropriate to indicate such, perhaps like this:

"The baby is doing fine. Unfortunately, Rachel had some complications and will remain in the hospital for a few more days, but we expect that we'll all be reunited at home next week. Her mom is in town helping out, so we're doing OK on the food end (thanks to everyone who offered to cook), but we could use some babysitting help for our older kids in the early afternoons if anyone is available."

This announcement is a good one because, in my opinion, it is safe to assume that those who care about the couple at any level will want to know how the mom is really doing and why she's not coming home yet, and how they can help. Those who are very, very close to the couple might feel comfortable calling to find out details about what happened . . . and those who are squeamish or not quite that close to the couple can send best wishes (or offer to help, without finding out details of what is going on).

The key is to share news, without making anyone feel that you are divulging Too Much Information . . .

. . . and without making any of your friends who are struggling to have children, or who are in their 30's or 40's and unmarried and therefore do not have a chance to have children, know that you are so incredibly happy about the new baby, floating so high in the mists of rapture and exhaustion and physical trauma and wonder and stress and complete disbelief that this tiny little person is your responsibility, and did I mention exhaustion? and awe? and stress? that you have forgotten that they are unable to experience those feelings themselves, and might be feeling sad about that.

Here is what I am talking about. I don't know why anyone writes mass emails such as the following, but when they do, I really, really hope they do not include infertile couples on their recipient list:

Mild contractions started on Saturday right after kiddush. My mom had arrived on Friday, just in time. The pains got stronger and slightly more frequent on Sunday, but I was feeling pretty good and we actually went shopping. Water broke and we decided to go to the hospital on Monday at 5 pm . . . this was the name of our nurse . . . and our midwife arrived at 6:30 . . . and I didn't get any drugs, though by midnight I was sorely tempted. . . hard labor lasted for 3 hours, I started pushing at 4 am . . . he came out slick and crying and beautiful and the midwife said it was the most peaceful birth she'd ever attended . . .

I have a therapist friend who encourages new mothers to write down their birth stories. It helps the mom process this profound event, and of course it is really nice, down the road, to have the details that otherwise one might forget over time. The story is a treasured and precious memory to write down, and to hold on to.

Giving birth is a big deal. Writing down the story is a healthy and helpful thing to do for the family, and perhaps for any extremely close friends who really want to hear the entire event from beginning to end.

And . . . if you are ever tempted to send this sort of text out in a mass email, please be very careful when creating the recipient list, and ask yourself "for whom is this too much information?"

It's so easy, when you have so much going on, to just choose all your friends from the address book and press "send" . . . and for very understandable reasons you are in a haze right now . . . and you are, indeed, safe in assuming that any normal person would be happy for you, because who wouldn't be? . . . so how impressive and amazing and gracious would it be if, in the most profound moment of your life, you take a moment to consider the feelings of others? No one expects this of you, but it would indeed be extremely gracious.

Remember, if you would not say it to an infertile couple, don't say it to a single person who is, oh, say, 35 years old and might seriously never have children unless something changes soon, and who might not feel comfortable knowing how many minutes you were pushing. (I'm just sayin'.)

Oh, and mazal tov on the new baby! May he/she quickly learn to sleep through the night, and may he/she grow up to Torah and good deeds . . . and chuppah, please God.

Peace.

Brother/Sister, can you spare some space in your suitcase?

If you live in the States, and are coming to Jerusalem in the next few weeks, and would kindly help a poor blogger by allowing me to have an order of catalogue clothing sent to you so you can bring me new clothes in your suitcase (it's 4 skirts and 4 shirts) please let me know in the comments or email me at chayyeisarah at yahoo dot com.

I'd of course come to you to pick them up at any Jerusalem location convenient for you.

Tizku l'mitzvot.

Sarah

The Muppets Take Rosh Hashanah *** NOW WITH UPDATE***



I can't catch all the lyrics, but I think they are a little, em, less appropriate than what is normally included in "Happy New Year" wishes. But, heck, they are in Hebrew, mostly, so they sound holy.

The point is, Shana tova. Mana mana.

Hee hee.

(Hat tip: Lisa A.)

***UPDATE***

OK, after watching this video waaaay too many times, here is a partial translation, the best I can do:

Shanah Tova ("Have a good year") x3

I wish you a year that is good and restful
You should merit to (live) another year
You should merit girls and eight something

Shanah Tova x3

something something girls
at least two
and with one of them I will go out to drink
uh-huh, yeah

Shana Tova x3

something something something
something something your sisters
that you should not go out into the street
two something hashish
something

Shana Tova x3

English rap verse

Shana Tova x3 and then to fadeout (or exit, in this case)

As you can see, my Hebrew is improving very slowly. Still, it's better than I could have done 4 years ago.

Shana tova. :-)

"Baruch Dayan HaEmet" and "Urgh"

For the last several years, I've been reading a fantasy epic by Robert Jordan called "The Wheel of Time." At 11 books and counting (not including the prequel or other complementary works), the story has thousands of characters, countless tiny subplots, and a rich world with multiple countries and cultures, several different kinds of wizards/witches with different codes, good guys who sometimes act bad, good guys who turn out to be bad guys, and good guys who seem to be acting for some crazy agenda of their own. The characters are drawn so richly that I swear I would recognize any of them if I passed them on the street.

For a long time, fans have been after the author to finish the story, as it truly was becoming too unwieldy (more than twice the length of the Harry Potter series) and it was coming time to wrap it up. Jordan promised that he'd finish in one more book, and millions of people around the world looked forward to the climactic battle between good and evil.

Then Jordan got sick. Very sick. He kept a blog letting fans know how he is doing, and in between the bad days when he could hardly function, he kept working on the book. He knew how important this series is to his fans, and it seemed that the task of finishing was helping to keep him alive.

Yesterday, he died.

I have to admit that I'm very impressed by the level of maturity among the commenters at his blog. His fans have expressed sadness at his death, admiration of his character, and sympathy for his wife and other family members.

This is all true and appropriate, and I share it. Jordan was an extraordinarily imaginative and talented man, and the way he approached his illness was inspiring.

And, also, I am really really upset that now we'll never know how the story ends. Yes, I know this is selfish and all, but I think that I speak for thousands of others -- who are more tactful than I am -- when I say that I am so, so, so upset that now there is no chance for a proper denoument. It's as if Return of the Jedi ended just at the scene when Luke leaves Endor to go meet up with Darth Vader, and then the credits roll. What a tease!

What makes it even worse is the idea -- nay, the surity -- that dozens or hundreds of fans will write mediocre "fan fiction" endings. Ooog. I can't bear it.

I'm thinking about lovingly wrapping up all my Wheel of Time books and putting them safely into storage, since just seeing them on my shelves raises feelings of frustration.

Rest in Peace, Robert Jordan. You were a good man.

And to anyone else who writes epic fantasies: Always write an outline and put it somewhere under lock and key, in case you die!

UPDATE: According to Jordan's blog, before he died he gave a 2 1/2 hour verbal account of the entire rest of the story to two of his family members. I hope this is true and that they took good notes.

My latest story

Rosh Hashanah, spent at the home of very special friends, was terrific.

Here's my latest story for the Israel Travel supplement of The Jewish Week.

Happy New Year!

Single on Rosh Hashanah

Wow.

Every. single. word of this essay resonated with me.

Wow.

"When Harry Meets Hebrew"

My latest feature story for the World Jewish Digest is finally online!

It is about the difficulties faced by Gili Bar-Hillel, whose job is to translate the Harry Potter books from English to Hebrew. The story includes examples of challenges created by differences in syntax, cultural and religious differences between Brits and Israelis, and challenges for translator generally.

As you can imagine, I had an incredibly good time researching this story. Bar-Hillel was very nice, and I had the good fortune of finding a graduate translation student who is writing her thesis on the Hebrew Harry Potter books! I love being a freelance writer and having the freedom to pitch stories about my hobbies!

The link is here.

Inspiring New Blog

My friend RivkA (accent on the "a") has cancer, and she is writing about her treatment, feelings, and hopes at her new blog, "Coffee and Chemo." Check it out.

Too Little, but not Too Late

At least a few months before the Israeli disengagement from Gaza, I read a newspaper report -- in Haaretz, I believe -- about a special government report which had been presented to the Knesset. Everyone was worried that a disengagement might lead to an Israeli civil war, and the report was basically tips to the government of how to do a disengagement the most peaceful way, if they were going to do it. I remember clearly that the number one most important point was that the settlers who were being moved should be treated as heroes, that political leaders from across the political spectrum should laud the settlers for their commitment to Israel, for their Zionist ideals, for having been willing to live in a harsh security situation because of their commitment to the land and to the State. The public message should be, the report said, that although the settler movement in Gaza was no longer deemed to be in Israel's best interests, the people themselves were heroes who had made great sacrifices for the country and should be acknowledged as such.

As anyone can tell, this message went unheeded by most of the Israeli left and the media outlets that represent them. But some of us were paying attention. Though I supported the disengagement as a political and military necessity, I always said that the 9,000 Jews who would be forced to move should be treated well and given generous compensation packages, that the government should work with them to ensure that they can find new places to live, or rebuild their communities elsewhere, as quickly as possible.

This, too, has not happened. Though I don't have the statistics at my fingertips, many of the settlers of Gush Katif are still unemployed, not because they don't wish to work but because the promises they received that they could start farming elsewhere have not been fulfilled. Many of them are still living in sub-par temporary housing and are being given the runaround by the government, who won't let them break ground on permanent homes.

One of these communities is that of Shirat Hayam. They had been promised by Ariel Sharon himself that they could all move, together, to a new location in the Jordan Valley called Maskiot. Now, I personally think it is ridiculous on the government's part to promise that they could move to another location over the Green Line, in the West Bank. However, if this is what they were promised, I think it's in everyone's best interests, especially that of the Left, to show that when the government promises something, they deliver. Instead, the government has been giving the community of Shirat Hayam/ Maskiot the runaround.

Two years after the disengagement, the people of Shirat Hayam are still living in caravans in a community called Chemdat, which is near Maskiot. I don't have any knowledge of the relationship between the Chemdat hosts and their Shirat Hayam guests, but a friend who is familiar with the community told me that the Chemdat infrastructure was built to support one small community of 30 families. And now, suddenly, the community doubled as Chemdat "absorbed" the displaced persons of Gush Katif.

The Jordan Vally is extremely hot, and this doubled community has been praying together every Saturday in a caravan, packed like sardines. Did I mention that the Jordan Valley is scorchingly hot?

My friend Aviva is raising money to purchase an additional caravan before Rosh Hashanah, so that the people of Shirat Hayam can say the High Holy Day prayers together as a community, with somewhat more comfort both for themselves and for the people of Chemdat. After the holidays, the caravan will be used as a community center, and it will be moved to Maskiot once the people are finally allowed to move there.

A caravan costs $33,000, way more than the people of Maskiot/Chemdat can afford, but not so much if a lot of people each give a little. I urge you to consider showing your support for the displaced community of Shirat Hayam. Even if, like me, you supported the disengagement, even if, like me, you think that the whole idea of moving Jews into Gush Katif was misguided from the beginning . . . well, these are good people who moved there in good faith, with the blessings of the State of Israel. They are Jews who have been bounced around by our own government, who were promised homes and are still living in caravans and praying in a shule that is too small for them by half. As the Day of Judgement approaches, the least we can do is help ease their suffering -- not to mention that of the community of Chemdat-- from the heat and from the impermanence of their living quarters.

If you would like to help purchase a caravan for them (or get information about helping to build other future infrastructure in Maskiot, such as a mikvah and a permanent synagogue building), click here.

From the States, you can send a (tax deductible) check, made out to AFNCI, to Rabbi M. Strasberg, 179-10 73rd Avenue, Flushing, New York 11366, including a note stating that the donations are to be allocated to Shirat-Hayam-Maskiot.

Or, call Avivah Harbater at 050-874-3484 (Israeli number) or 1-516-515-95-92 (American number; rings in Israel). Tell her Chayyei Sarah sent you!

Best wishes to everyone in finding a comfortable seat for the long Rosh Hashanah prayers, and may your own community's davening be meaningful and answered!

(hat tip: Jameel, Jameel guesblogging for Dov Bear, and Avivah Harbader)

Bagruyot Redux

I've got a new article out in the Jewish Week's Education supplement. It's an explanatory article about the Israeli matriculation exams known as "bagruyot." The purpose of the story is to help American Jews understand this Israeli rite of passage, and to provide introductory information to people who are considering aliyah. You can check it out here. Have fun.