The Real First Post

In honor of the beginning of CPI09 and having remembered that I actually wrote my first blogpost just about a year ago, I'm re-posting it here:

Day 7: Getting Ready for Camp

Monday, July 21st, 2008.

Today was our first real day in Yerucham – and boy was it a good one. Partially it was just so nice to finally be doing something, after what seemed like weeks and weeks of training and talking; we spent most of the day decorating the rooms in which we will be working with multinational decor, in the spirit of our Olympic-themed camp.

But while that was definitely a great group bonding experience and a great outlet for our creativity and enthusiasm, what really got me excited was just being here. After all we've heard about the development, the dirty streets, the dry heat and the despondent people, it was great to be here on my own and to be able to experience it for myself.

And let me tell you – there were some very gorgeous buildings and parks, beautiful sidewalks, manageable temperatures (including a soothing evening cool) and very friendly people (I've already had a number of people come up to me to ask me who I was and what I was doing here). The truth is, I think I've already fallen in love with this city and would like to invite anyone who doesn't believe me to come see it for themselves.

As I walked down the streets of this beautiful city, I thought about the point of coming here, and about how we're supposed to 'make a difference'. When I actually saw the people and realized that they wouldn't come running to our feet for words of wisdom, I began to wonder if it was even realistic to set such grand goals. How are we, a bunch of young college students, supposed to make a difference in a city of thousands?

As I was thinking about that, I saw some empty wrappers on the streets – not like in a slum, but like it is in any regular town or city. It was then that I realized that as much as we must dream big and set lofty goals of inspirations and impact, it all starts with the our own everyday, ordinary lives. So, after picking up those wrappers, I proceeded to clean the entire block, as well as the adjacent street, of all cigarette butts, popsicle sticks, broken glass, and any other such debris that dared defile my dreamy desert rose – Yerucham.

When we got back to the magnificent apartment in which some of us guys are staying, I also began to clean out the front yard. After about an hour, the pile of trash had transformed into the ultimate hangout area, decked out with two remodeled couches, a dozen chairs and some hanging artwork. It was in this little area that all of us ushered in the cool evening with a delicious barbecue and a spontaneous bout of singing.

Sitting back on one of the couches, breathing in the fresh air of Israel, and listening to a bunch of beautiful voices singing songs of hope and prayer, my spirit was revived and I once again am looking forward to another day of making a difference in Yerucham.

Epilogue: It truly was a summer (or, more accurately, 2.5 weeks) of making a difference. More on those experiences another time...
Also, in cleaning up that front porch, I found a old, dirty, broken Challah board which, with a little work, turned into a refined, beautiful (though still broken) Challah board. I brought it back to America with me and it has since graced the table of many a "Heart to Heart" Shabbat dinner, adding grandeur and regalia to our sanctified meals. Funny how these stories all connect...

Pesach: "shloshim yom lifenei hachag"

Pesach. What a holiday. It's got everything - history, theology, family, customs, commandments, emotions - no wonder it's the most celebrated Jewish event (2001-2002 National Jewish Population Study). What normally happens at Penn is that all 300+ Orthodox and most of the other affiliated students go home (or to friends' homes). Then, Seder night, hundreds of people show up at Hillel, people for whom this might be their first time in the building all year - or ever. Normally they have one huge (=impersonal), communal (=boring) Seder, for all these hundreds of people, led by the Hillel rabbi. Now as good as he may be, it's hard to have a meaningful, personal, and impacting Seder when it's 1-on-300. When that Seder fills up, Hillel would turn people away, giving them a Seder-to-go kit and telling them to do it on their own -- even worse than the first option. Can you believe that?! People come to Hillel looking for a meaningful, fun, Jewish experience and they get turned off/away, and likely turned off from Judaism! Chabad also runs Seders, and also for a mass of people led by one rabbi (with some help from some imported Chabad bochurim).

After I heard about the state of affairs at Penn for Pesach, I spoke to my parents: "Mommy, Tati-", I said, "I love you and I love Seders at home but this year I'm staying at Penn to lead Seders". And my wonderful and understanding parents lovingly gave their approval, saying that they'd miss me, but that they were proud of me. Then I began to speak to friends, people who cared, and/or people for whom going home wasn't a giving.

"...imagine if there were some small, intimate, explanatory, engaging Seders where these hundreds of people can find that fun and meaningful part of Judaism that they're searching for. Imagine if these people could be given a positive Jewish experience and maybe change their perspective on Judaism for the rest of their lives.

Imagine if you can be that difference. Who better to provide this experience for them then fellow students, who can share their knowledge, passion and familiarity for Judaism in a relevant and friendly way? Who can better relate to them as peers, and as conduits into Judaism and a Jewish community? And what is Pesach anyway, other than a means of of connecting Jews, to our shared history, to our heritage, and to each other!

I know this is a lot to ask and everyone wants to be home/somewhere comfortable. Great. But imagine the difference you can be making in someone's life who doesn't have that warm, loving place to go to. You can go home for spring break, for the last days, or for any other day - but on Pesach, the Jews of Penn need you to be here for them..."

By the end, and without much further convincing necessary, there were 13 of us who decided to stay and a friend from Stern who volunteered to come as well. (This isn't to say that anyone who didn't stay didn't care, but these 13 people did show extraordinary and true devotion.)

The next step was preparing, even more than 30 days in advance. We had quite a formidable task - learning how to run interesting and enjoyable Seders that were also genuine and halachik for people who didn't know what halacha was and who might never have been to a Seder before, or at least not one they enjoyed. To assist us, we organized sessions with the aforementioned Hillel and Chabad rabbis, experts in running similarly oriented Seders. The Conservative Hillel rabbi gave a wonderful session, highlighting important ideas to keep in mind, good points to bring up in discussion, and strategies for facilitating meaningful conversations. One thing, however, that didn't sit as well with me was when he said that in order to provide unaffiliated students with a meaningful experience, we'd have to (and I quote) "throw halacha out the window". In whatever sense it was meant, the point was clear - the priority should be to engage students in meaningful discussion; the Seder was but an expendable means. I have a suspicion that the Chabad rabbi heard about this, because in his session the next week, his main and only point was to forget about meaning and just get the students to do the mitzvahs, for therein lies the only meaning. Forget about discussions and philosophy - just get them to drink 4 revi'is of wine and eat a k'zayit of matzah. There was a lot that we gained from the sessions, but that contrasting and explicit dichotomy was the most striking. Could one really not run a Seder for unaffiliated college students that both adheres to its requirements and contains meaningful content? We were going to try and find out... (As an aside: I find it incredibly amazing at the gap between existing models of outreach: you either have right-wing, ultra-Orthodox kiruv organizations or non-Orthodox, pluralisitc, fluffy, organizations. How come there's no modern religious groups/people doing this kind of stuff, people who are deeply rooted in Torah, Judaism, and devotion to God and are also full participants in the modern society around them? These people have the unique opportunity (and responsibility) to be ambassadors of Judaism to the people around them.)

We almost worked with NJOP's PAA but in the end we decided to run it by ourselves. Well not all by ourselves; we got help from Hillel's CCP grants, which sponsored "A Night to Remember" Haggadahs. The reason we chose those was not just because they had the traditional text and transliterations for the essential parts, but because they had incredible pictures, cartoons, stories, essays, and other reading material for all ages and interests. As it turns out, the author, Mishael Zion, was coming to Penn to give a talk about the Seder, so he gave us a fantastic private session afterward on how to run Seders with his Haggadahs. After acquiring all of these tools, tidbits, and ideas, we divided up into 5 groups of 3 (except one of 2) and set about preparing the actual Seders. It was also at this point that the Kentucky Shabbaton occurred, as did many midterms and group projects, but even with a lack of time to spare, everyone put in a lot of time and effort to ensure that our Seders would be ready, remarkable, and rewarding.

More on the actual Seders soon...

Kentucky, part 4 – Forgotten Parts

First off, I can't believe I forgot to include this (oh right, other then the fact that it's incredibly embarrassing): When thinking of ways to spread the word and get people to come, and having the illustrious TSR with us, we figured what better technique to utilize than a funny video introducing us!...in a way people wouldn't forget! I give you - "PENN COMES TO KENTUCKY! JOIN US FOR SHABBAT DINNER!"

Back to that Friday night - I really can’t go into full detail regarding all of the night’s experiences (each person probably deserves their own post, but that’d be too much) but there were a few notable ones:

1) Towards the end of dinner, one of the men from the community came over to speak to me. As we started talking, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a bill of money, and slipped it into my breast pocket. “I want you to have this”, he said, as I awkwardly tried to dodge his hand, “to help defray your costs.” As I tried to protest, he insisted, explaining that he really “felt a debt of gratitude to ya’ll for coming all the way down here”. To have a cadre of lively, young and interesting Jewish college students go out and visit them in middle of Jewish American nowhere and share a beautiful Shabbat experience with them was something he couldn’t understand and for which he was so grateful. I tried to explain to him the appeal of this Shabbat for us as well and after speaking for a while, I think we both left appreciating each others appreciation. But wait, I still had a dollar bill in my pocket! I quickly ran into the kitchen and surreptitiously emptied my pocket into an open drawer, freeing myself from the onerous offering. When we came back after Shabbat to pick up our stuff, I checked the drawer and there sat the forlorn $20 bill I had rejected the night before. I happily picked it up and we in fact did use it to defray some of our personal costs.

2) At (what we thought was) the end of the evening, as the adults’ learning corner was winding down and the students were on their way out, we began closing up the room. One of the organizers pointed out that we couldn’t leave the candles lit, and she went over to blow them out. “No, no, it’s okay” we called after her, not wanting her to be mechalel Shabbat, “why don’t we just stay here until they go out on their own?” She agreed, and after bidding everyone goodbyes and ‘Shabbat Shalom’s we settled in to wait for the candles to go out, figuring ‘how bad could it be?’. Bad. We stayed there until close to 2 in the morning, as those candles burned dazzlingly and defiantly. So we used that time to finish davening ma’ariv, recap the evening’s excitements and breathe sighs of joyful relief. That’s when the cop arrived. Yep, the neighborhood security guard was doing his rounds and found a group of college students in some empty hall, sitting around a table of candles. We offered for him to join us and, pleased to get an interlude to his boring duties, he pulled up a chair and joined us.

Now this guy had a great story – he was getting trained in the Marines when he got thrown out for going to the bathroom without his boots. But it was all for the best, he said, since the dismal turnaround in his life led him to find God. And now he was studying to be a priest – while working as a security guard in his spare time to make some money. “Ah, a priest”, we exclaimed, leading to a whole discussion about religious education, Israel, his homosexual brother (for whom he fasted weekly to ‘save him from burning in hell’), and good ol’ Kentucky. After having spoken our fair share, and perhaps having touched on some touchy subjects, he remembered that he had assignments to resume and left us alone, once again watching the Shabbat candles.

3) And finally, C.H. First this guy (who taught at the University) showed up Friday night and brought us a (kosher+mevushal) bottle of wine! Then, he offered to show us around town the next day, and we planed to meet at the Conservative synagogue. (Side note: we decided that in keeping with our mission to connect to the Jews of Lexington, Kentucky, we'd visit the local Conservative synagogue, meet the people, etc. But not all of us felt so comfortable praying/eating there so we decided upon davening, making kiddush and eating lunch in our hotel rooms, then doing the 3.4 mile walk and getting there for the end of davening/luncheon.) At 9AM the next morning we were surprised with a knock on the door - it was C.H.! Inspired by the previous night's learning tidbit about hachnasat orchim, he figured he would walk us to synagogue as well - and told us we had to hurry, or we'd be "late for taking out the Torah". Being in the middle of shacharit, and not wanting him to know that we preferred davening/eating in the hotel, we told him we'd need some time to finish getting ready. So we finished davening, wolfed down a quick kiddush/lunch and went out to get him from his blue corvette, where he was waiting. It ended up being a lovely day - we made it to synagogue in time for moose-off, met some interesting people at kiddush, and got the scenic tour of campus and greater Lexington on the way back. After a good 8 miles of walking with C.H., we bid him farewell for the afternoon, and planned to meet up again for havdala. So after Shabbat ended, the 7 of us and C.H. joined together for a beautiful, musical, and spiritually uplifting havdala ceremony, with some kiddush levana thrown in for fun! While most stories I document happen on Shabbat/Y"T, we were lucky to catch this priceless one on film:

Without a doubt, that Shabbat was surely a memorable one, for us and likely for many others. Hopefully this won't be the last we hear of the Jewish community and our new friends in Lexington, Kentucky but until further updates, this will have to do for now. May we all merit to share the beauties of Shabbat in places and with people She has yet to embrace.

The Secret

Often, and especially in my recent travels, I am asked the question "What is your secret?” People want to know what secret program I run, or what magical dvar Torah I give, or what the trick is to "making people religious". And people tell me they think they have the answers - have a big Shabbat meal for 5,000 people or have some huge mega-event, or have them listen to this one rabbi – and that will do the trick...

In what would have been this week's haftorah, we have the second of Eliyahu Hanavi (Elijah the prophet)'s two legendary episodes. His first, and most famous, is of the happening at Har Carmel, where in the showdown with Achav and his false prophets of ba'al, Eliyahu emerges miraculously victorious. In what has become a rallying cry ever since, and the pinnacle of our prayers on Yom Kippur, the previously borderline people of Israel respond to his display of God's all-might with the fearful and awesome scream of "ה' הוא האלוקים, ה' הוא האלוקים" "God is the Almighty (2x)". As our would-be haftorah picks up the story, we are greeted with an unexpected turn of events - Eliyahu fins out that Achav and Izavel are still out to kill him and he runs away. Runs away?! Didn't he just achieve the magnificent and tide-turning victory over his enemies and win the hearts of the people? C'mon, only cowards people like Yonah run away, not public heroes like Eliyahu! Well, away he runs, into the deserted deserts of the Negev, where he retreats into himself. He then attempt to commit suicide, collapsing repeatedly and finally is brought by an angel to Har Horev, a.k.a. Har Sinai. There, like Moshe, he goes for 40 days and nights, camps out in a cave and speaks with God. The rabbis pick up on these similarities, but point out one big difference; while with Moshe, God said "עמוד פה עמדי", "stay here with Me", God accusatorily asks Eliyahu "מה לך פה אליהו?", "What are you doing here?". In justifying himself, Eliyahu starts explaining what happened, saying that he responded with zealousness since the people have abandoned God and wish to kill him. In reply, God showcases a series of meteorological events before Eliyahu. First, a great, earth-shattering wind blows by, but God was not there. Then came a thunderous earthquake, and then a blazing fire, but God was not in either of them. Then came forth a small, silent voice, which Eliyahu hears and from which God speaks to him. After going though the same questions and answers as previously, God tells him that his job as leader is over, save for appointing successors for himself and the other leaders of Israel.

What? What's happening here? At what does this have to do with what I started with?

The Malbim, in analyzing God's questioning of Eliyahu, explains a prophet's role as being with the people, advising them, guiding them, loving them, and leading them. Hence God's bewilderment and chastisement at Eliyahu's detached disappearance into the desert, instead of staying and dealing with the people of Israel. (In comparison, Moshe stayed at Har Sinai to selflessly fight for Israel’s continuity, even offering up his life for a people who would constantly disappoint him.) Eliyahu's response is that his zealousness and frustration at the people's lack of change have made him unfit for the job; he did God’s grand miracles for them, proved God’s existence at Har Carmel in front of the masses, and got all of the attendees to acknowledge God’s Divinity, only to have them turn a blind eye the next day. The Malbim then connects this to God's meteorological demonstration, explaining that God is showing Eliyahu that He is not necessarily found in big shows, or in over-the-top demonstrations - like Eliyahu carried out at Har Carmel. Even with all the lighting, miraculous rain, thunderous cries of belief, and Eliyahu's zealous fights, it was a failure, and Eliyahu ran away defeated. Defeated? But didn't it work? Didn't the people all say they believed in God? God's message was that there is another way - not of force and strength, but of the small, silent things. That is how God wants his leaders to lead His people to Him - with cords of love and soft words of understanding, and with the subtle sounds of silence. Thus, Eliyahu failed - for while the people said what they had to out of fear, the all-powerful and overbearing Truth failed to cause a lasting and deep-seated change in the hearts and souls of the people. Hence the continued persecution of Eliyahu, even after the mega event, and Eliyahu’s consequential frustration and self-imposed isolation. While God first yelled at him for being absent from his post, Eliyahu’s incompatibility with this role leads God to yell at him again and remove him from his post. Eliyahu is then replaced by Elisha, who we first see contrastingly following 12 oxen (hinting to the 12 tribes) and feeding the masses around him (the ideological forerunner of a rebbe’s shirayim).

Fittingly, Eliyahu’s punishment is that he never dies; he is forced to wander the earth for all of time, amongst the people he failed to love and understand. He is thus a visitor at every Jewish brit milah, testifying that God’s people are keeping His covenant, attending every family Seder, bearing witness that the people of Israel are still on their long and winding path back to their Father in heaven, and visiting every motzei Shabbat, celebrating with and recording the merits of the children of Israel. In the end, Eliyahu’s final emancipation will be to finish the long and arduous progression of redemption, returning the hearts of parents to their children and the children’s hearts to their parents. This is not an instant mega-solution, but a slow, multigenerational, heart-to-heart process; only through those ordinary, silent, and genuine understandings will the Final Redemption come and reunite the people of Israel amongst themselves and with God.

So what’s my secret? I don’t really have one; just be a nice, friendly, and warm person. Connect people to each other, to God, and to the world of Judaism around them - and everyone in their own, personal, small ways. It is important to recognize and remember that each person is different and the path to each person’s heart is unique. For all the “things” that I do, it’s really all about the spontaneous, genuine, heart to heart conversations that I have with people, the silent smiles or the welcoming gestures. Even as this has grown in leaps and bounds, I still hold by that assertion, and I am beginning to understand why the movement is called “Heart to Heart”. May we live and work to see the fulfillment of "והשיב לב אבות (לב אבות) על בנים ולב בנים על אבותם"

p.s. I know I am offering solutions here, but I wouldn’t call them “tricks to making people religious”, merely open reminders for normal life.
p.p.s. Most of this came from Rav Elon's insights, which can be found here

Kentucky, part 3 - the Heart of the Matter

Now for the story of that memorable Shabbat in Lexington, Kentucky. Leaving Dickinson at midnight and behind schedule, we had to make a difficult decision. Calculating the remaining hours of driving and the time before Shabbat, we figured out that we either had time for Keeneland or a good night's sleep, but not both. On the one hand, having a good night's sleep is crucial, so you're awake, on your game, and excited when interacting with people. But c'mon, Keeneland! Besides for this being the greatest (and only) horse races I could have gone to (leaving aside future prospects of returning to UKY), I felt that going to the races would've given us an 'in' with the students there; that could have been our common factor (other than being Jews) and a great conversation starter. But the 7 of us voted and I was outvoted, and against my will we stopped for a good night's sleep in a motel. (In retrospect, it turned out okay not going - but next year I am predicating joining the trip on agreeing to go to Keeneland.)

We got to our destination an hour before the time we planned to start and everyone ran off to do errands - get the food ready, sign up another driver, work out the hotel rooms, etc. We opened the cooler with all of the food to find some of the nastiest looking chicken ever - and that was the main food for the dinner. In another 'Shabbat miracle', someone ran to the grocery store and after much searching, they found one lone jar of barbecue sauce with the seal of the kohen gadol OU on it. We drove to building where the event was planned, and quickly started getting things ready - saucing the chicken, making the salad, setting up the candles. In setting up the room for davening, we had decided that we would put up a mechitza - but use only a tablecloth-covered table between the men's and women's sections. As were were bringing over a table to put in the middle, one of the women who was organizing the event with us asked "Is that what I think it is?". Turns out she was a former Orthodox woman from Long Island, but when she moved out to the boondocks/got turned off by some conservative practices of Orthodox Judaism, she kind-of fell off the face of the religious-Jewish world. "Uh, well, we put this up because this is the way that we feel comfortable praying. Not elevating or demoting either gender, merely distinguishing the two and allowing for a space of more personal and comfortable prayer", we answered. Luckily, she actually liked the sound of that. By the time we started, people had been trickling in, mingling, and meeting - and by the time we started there was a big crowd of 14 Kentuckians + 7 Quakers = 21 people! And remember when people said we'd maybe get 5 people to stop by? This was incredible!

We saw/knew that we weren't getting a minyan and so we just started - first we let people know about candle lighting and one of the girls led a group of people in saying the blessings. Then we started davening - okay, so how do you run davening for people who might not know what davening is, and definitely not the one we're used to? We figured Carlebach + explanations was the way to go - if people don't know it, they can at least sing along, or at least get a sense of the feeling of kabbalat shabbat, the meaning, exhilaration, joy, etc. We gave out packets of transliterated and translated kabbalat shabbat, which we had prepared and began going through the sections, with people giving short explanations before different parts. The explanations were brief, just what was going on and some meaning that a specific prayer gave to them. And we sang a lot, slowly and loudly, going into "nay nay nays" after the words had finished. For 'lecha dodi', we did it to the tune of 'am yisrael chai', which I figured was our best shot at them knowing the song. And it was great- I saw/heard people following along; at one point during lecha dodi, I closed my ears, stopped singing, and heard a mass of people singing along behind me. It was really amazing - here we were in the middle of Kentucky with people who might never have had a Shabbat experience before, and definitely not one like this - singing songs of praise to God and greetings to the Shabbat.

After kabbalat Shabbat, we decided to cut straight to dinner - a smart move, as we would've lost these people during ma'ariv, and we would just do it on our own. So we sat down to eat - and what a Shabbat dinner it was! We explained a bit about the content as we went along (shalom aleichem, kiddush, hamotzi) and then we dug into the food. That chicken was probably the best chicken I'd ever had - maybe because I knew how it got there! The 7 of us split up and each person ended up engrossed in conversation with the two or three people around them. It was so nice getting to speak to these people, hearing their stories, what being Jewish was like in a place like Kentucky, what college life was like there, connections to Israel, what the cool things to do around town were, etc. These people had some crazy stories - like how their Christian friends yelled at them for being Jewish, one girl went on Birthright and now wants to live in Israel, one girl tried going to the reform Temple but never felt comfortable there. Dinner lasted for maybe two hours, and we tried a small discussion group on Jewish ethics, which some of the older people (Jewish faculty/community members who came) liked. But the kids (i.e. college students) really just wanted to hang out and talk. We had a feeling that would happen and didn't try and push it too much - it's hard to force too much content on people, especially when this already was their most Jewish experience in a long time. And especially college students, who might very well be more into partying/hanging out than serious religious discussions. But regardless of whether people sat down and read a text, I think it's fair to say that this was a worthwhile, content-filled Jewish experience for all. I mean, it was something, in a place that has nothing, and if it nothing more than to get there Jewish community together, it was worth it. The girl who previously didn't know any other Jewish students in Kentucky, left with a few new friends, one with whom she became pretty close with (I saw facebook pictures of them going shopping together for kosher for passover food). If just for that, I think it was all worth it - do you know what that means for someone stranded Jewishly in the middle of nowhere to be connected with other Jews her age? The new friend, who is slated to be the new 'Hillel president', also brought her along to the Hillel meeting (which consists of around 3 students)! Which also means that I singlehandedly added a quarter of their involved population! And there were more benefits - people said they loved the prayer services and really gained an appreciation for it in the brief taste; a few of the students said they wished they could have something like this more often, and if it was there, they'd for sure go every week. Fine, so there's no one to do this every week and they didn't feel comfortable/want to go to the local Temple, but at least this gave them a desire for more. Once again, we're back at the issue of follow-up - could there be a way to provide something more permanent and long-term for these people? Regardless, it as least planted seeds and either already has or at some point in the future will have had an impact on their lives.

I think this is long enough for now; part 4 to come...

The Rest of the Speaking Tour

For those of you who might've feared for the future of Am Yisrael upon hearing that last story, fear not - the rest of the speaking tour was much more inspirational and uplifting. All in all I spoke to students at 17 yeshivot and midrashot/seminaries (with double shifts and make-ups, I think I spoke around 20 times in total), speaking to ~600 incoming college freshmen. Now I don't know how many total post-Israel students go to college every year, but I probably spoke to a good portion of them. The format was normally that I spoke for ~45 minutes and then fielded questions for another 15, if people had. And the reception was always great; people asked a lot of questions - good questions - questions I could tell were the result of serious thinking and understanding on their part. And many of the students came up and spoke to me afterward, either to tell me how inspiring that was or to ask me what the deal was on their campus, or just to introduce themselves.

On a side note, what I still find funny is that I went on a speaking tour. Besides for the element of me speaking to rooms full of seminary girls, the reason it surprises me is because growing up, one of the only things I knew I could never do was be a public speaker. I just couldn't do it, I was too nervous, I had no self-confidence and I couldn't speak well. Fine, so I always knew I would just choose a profession that didn't entail speaking to hundreds of people. And then here I was, speaking to hundreds of people. And it went well - without a hitch. I think the reason was because I mostly just spoke from the heart. Sure I had the outline of a speech in front of me but more often than not, I just spoke freely, loosely following my outline. And the questions were the best, where I really got to speak my mind and bare my heart and tell my stories. There was nothing to be nervous about, I was just telling my story, having a little 'hart to heart'.

Towards the end of the presentation, I would also pass around a pad of paper for people to sign up with their name, email and school if they were interested in finding out more, wanting to connect with other like-minded people on their campus, interested in staying in touch with me, or just wanted to find out where to get $ for Shabbat meals. Here's a table with the numbers of students who signed up from each college.

College	#signed up
YU	21
NYU	15
Brandeis	14
Maryland	14
Penn	12
Columbia	11
York	10
Queens	9
Stern	9
unknown	9
Barnard	8
Rutgers	7.5
Binghamton	5
Boston	4
City Honors	3
McGill	3
Yale	3
Bar Ilan	2.5
Baruch	2
Brooklyn	2
Cornell	2
CUNY	2
Harvard	2
Hunter	2
Princeton	2
Ryerson	2
Touro	2
U. Kansas	2
U. of Toronto	2
UIC	2
UMBC	2
Carnegie Mellon	1
Dawson College (Montreal)	1
Florida State U.	1
Florida University (U of F?)	1
George Brown	1
IDC	1
John Jay	1
Loyola	1
Northwestern	1
Pratt	1
Queensborogugh	1
SMC	1
Stonybrook	1
U. Birmingham	1
U. Chicago	1
U. Florida	1
U. Hartford	1
U. Liverpool	1
U. Manchester	1
U. Miami	1
U. Michigan	1
U. Montreal	1
U. Urbana	1
UMass	1
Wellesley	1
Western Ontario	1

As you can see, "Heart to Heart" will never be the same. The question is where exactly to go next. I guess the goal would be for this to expand to other colleges, maybe even have similar groups start at other places, and form some sort of structured network, while still keeping it grassroots, personal and genuine. Organized but not an organization. Or whatever you want to call it - just more people being nice and welcoming. But don't worry, just because this is growing doesn't mean I'll stop posting stories - that's really the ikar of this all. And I hope that in time, other people can start sharing their stories as well (linked blogs? or turn into a group blog?). Fine, so not all 213 people will start groups like this, but if even a few do, or if some more people make just one shabbat meal over their time in college, or meet and connect to just one new person -- then this will all be worth it.

Avraham vs. Noach

I am forced to write this due to a shocking experience I went through recently. In the midst of my speaking tour of yeshivot and seminaries/midrashot in Israel, I spoke at one school where the format was more of a panel discussion. The rabbi leading the session started off saying that although normally they bash, make fun of, embarrass and yell at people going to secular colleges, for this one time they would try and be open to hear some of the challenges and opportunities presented by college. So I spoke first - a condensed, 15-minute version of my speech- telling some inspirational stories and imparting the message that as secular college students, you have the opportunity and charge of changing someone's life with the smallest actions, with only the obligation to care and be aware. I made sure to say that one can do this without sacrificing anything of yourself, that this wasn't mutually exclusive to one's personal religious growth. Fine, nothing too controversial, pretty good right?

Wrong. Immediately after I finished, one rabbi (whose 'secular college credentials' entailed once going to summer classes; the rest of the time he never left yeshiva) jumped in to say (in essence) "Whoa whoa whoa. Don't listen to this guy at all - kiruv is not at all what you should be doing." He went on to tell the participants that while maybe this guy might have something beautiful in Judaism to share, you definitely don't. He, as well as the other 'panelists' went on and on saying how you shouldn't think about this and all you should do is make sure you're learning Torah, keeping a kesher with Rabbis, not hanging out with the wrong people, not reverting to what you were before Israel, etc. They would sometimes go back to my point, saying how maybe you can leave your bubble for one second to do kiruv but then you gotta jump right back in. Chas v'shalom you should actually talk to a girl or someone non-frum (better a non-Jew than someone non-religious), it might hurt your shidduch chances. And the picture that was painted was pretty much a world of kefira, naked women, drugs and alcohol (reminds me of Gil Perl and Yaakov Weinstein's "A Parent’s Guide to Orthodox Assimilation on University Campuses") - with the only safe haven being in yeshiva, whether back in Israel or a nearby sanctuary.

There were some alumni there who also spoke - they had just finished their freshmen year at certain secular college right near my house. One of them proudly exclaimed that he didn't know about all the kefira/controversies at his college, because he never talked to anyone who wasn't frum, he just locked himself up in his room. His friend and fellow student praised him, saying "this guy is my hero - the only reason he's still frum is because he never stayed in once for shabbos". They said it with pride, similar to the rabbis on the panel who, in describing their expertise in secular college, beamed how they "didn't even know their secular college had a campus"! One of the alumni then gave a dvar torah: there are two famous models of heroes in the beginning of Bereishit - Noach and Avraham. People often compare the two, and this student quoted one opinion that Noach was a failed hero for not saving the world, while Avraham was the archetypal hero for striving to heal and redeem his world. This student thought that was stupid and gave his peshat, the obvious one. "We see that Noach was better because his story comes first - the Torah wants to teach us how that's the best way, to lock yourself up in the teiva and forget about everyone else."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Does this guy not daven every day when we call upon "Elokey Avraham... Magen Avraham"? We learn the very essence of prayer from Avraham, when he looked out over the destruction of Sodom, the (evil, non-Jewish) city he valiantly sought to save! There's a reason we're called not beni Noach, but Ivrim - after Avraham, who went to the other side (eiver) but brought people with him. We friggin learn that "gadol hachnasat orchim mikabalat penei shechinh" - "greater is the mitzvah of welcoming guests than that of receiving the face of the Almighty"! (Shabbat 127a) And I bet the gemara wasn't talking about inviting the same 5 friends from yeshiva to your shabbos meal. Who dress, think, learn, and talk just like you. Gosh, Avraham avinu was sitting and talking to God Himself when he saw three non-Jewish, random strangers walk by. You know what he told God? "Sorry Almighty, it's great talking to you but I gotta go say hello to some strangers, offer them some food, and sit with them." There's our paradigm for heroism! That's why he was chosen to be the father of the Jewish people, and not Noach. Last we see Noach, he's getting drunk and having problems with his kids -- not that he was a bad guy but something obviously didn't work out. His story was probably first because it was a less mature, introductory lesson into human leadership, setting the stage and providing a foil for Avraham's. Noach failed, and thus the world descended into another 10 generations of chaos, until someone who cared about someone other than himself came along - Avraham. The gemara in Avodah Zara (9b) quotes and maps out the years of Jewish history: 2,000 of chaotic nothingness, 2,000 of Torah and 2,000 of Moshiach. While at first the gemara wants to assume that the beginning of the era of Torah occurred at Matan Torah, it actually calculates the date to be Avraham's time in Charan. I bet Avraham wasn't shtaiging gemara all day, locked in his room when the era of Torah began; you know what he was probably doing? Inviting people into his house for a bite, a rest, a meaningful conversation, a loving and caring relationship. As Hillel said, "that is Torah, the rest is just commentary" (Shabbat 31a).

p.s. To be fair, a) alumni aren't always representative of their yeshiva's views and b) as I was leaving, the rabbi who ran the session thanked me for speaking, as it "gave a positive beginning" to an otherwise criticism-filled morning.

Kentucky, part 2 + Dickinson

Once we had our plans and some contacts, we starting actually preparing to go - renting a van, getting food (how does one get a Shabbat's worth of kosher food in Lexington, KY?), where to sleep, etc. The Hillel adviser told us that the drive would be too long to do all on Friday (assuming we wanted to make it before sundown, which we did) and suggested we stay over somewhere Thursday night. We then had the idea (which was strongly influenced by L.E.W.) to find some other places to stop along the way. So I went online and opened up two windows - one with GoogleMaps and one with Hillel's website. I then traced our prospective travel route and found the zip codes of different cities along the way and entered them into Hillel's "College Search", which returned colleges with some semblance of a Jewish presence within 5 miles of that location. Doing this, I found 6 or 7 colleges of interest along the way - some which had 900 Jews and a Chabad (U. of West Virginia) and some with 35 Jews and not much else (Marshall University). In the end we decided on Dickenson University, for its proximity (2 hours from Penn, meaning we could get there at a reasonable hour) and its sizable Jewish community - 200 Jews and their own Hillel building.
From there, things took their normal route - we found some friends who had mutual friends there, emailed their Hillel and soon we had a Thursday night BBQ planned for Dickinson College.

So that fateful Thursday came around and we finally ended up leaving at ~8:00 PM. From there, we got to Dickinson at 10:00 and made our way over to the Asbell Student Center - their Hillel house. There was an interesting surprise when we got there, as the Chabad rabbi (and some of his kids) from Harrisburg had come in that night as well (for the first time) to run a matza baking event. That definitely made things a little weird, as he didn't know what we were doing there and we weren't sure what he was doing there. But the 5 or 10 students who were there were pretty cool and we hit it off with them After an short-lived attempt by the rabbi to get us to watch this silly video about matza baking, we starting making matzas with the Dickenson students. Which was great, because it was a great activity over which we got to speak, get to know each other a bit, have some fun. (Best part: when Amitai made a failed attempt to hit on the Chabad's rabbi's shidduch-aged daughter.) Meanwhile, Tal went upstairs to work alone on his final paper, only to be joined by the Chabad rabbi, who tried recruiting some people to learn Tanya with him.

(Which brings me to a side point: when we were trying to figure out what to do at Dickinson, we threw around some ideas - mishmar, kumzits, hanging out, jam session... I guess this leads to what was the purpose of going there? Was it to provide them with some Jewish knowledge, some educational content? I don't think so. Would that have been nice? Sure. But I think the main goal was just to engage fellow Jewish students in a positive, Jewish experience, and if some shiur wasn't the best way to do that, we'd forgo a shiur. So we suggested the idea of learning something but quickly nixed that in favor of a simple, chilled BBQ. All of this came to my mind when the option was presented to go learn Tanya upstairs, in the middle of our exciting matza baking. What do I think would have been a better idea? Not to brag, but I'd go for hanging out with us over learning some Tanya - I mean, come on, do regular college kids relate well to obscure and esoteric messages about different layers of the soul, or to eating some wings? So we chose to forgo the content, have only a little guitar playing, and save most of the time for simple bonding, a little Jewish geography, and getting to know each other. And it wasn't all meaningless conversation - we spoke about Jewish life on our respective campuses, going to Israel, being Jewish on a secular college, among other things. I think that this is the simplest and most genuine way to connect to people, and from there, the connection to a more meaningful and deeper relationship with Judaism is but a natural extension. Of course, that's a lot harder when you're not there to continue the relationship but at least the seeds can be planted and the roads built.)

Meanwhile, E.R., the student who pretty much heads their Jewish community, rounded up some more people to come and we started barbecuing outside. That also turned out well, just chilling over some good chicken wings and half-cooked matzas. All in all, we stayed for a good two hours and met over a dozen Jews. They have a pretty impressive little Jewish community there - every Friday night the 10-15 of them cook their own Shabbat meal in Hillel and make their own Shabbat; I felt bad talking about our dining staff who do everything, and I just walk in Friday night and Shabbat is made for me. At the end, we invited them to come visit us at Penn, so we could repay the hospitality and reconnect with them. They seemed willing and they just seemed satisfied with the wonderful time that we shared together. We left, energized for the rest of our journey, armed with a whole bunch of new friends. I think there's just something beautiful about that :)

Bonus: in case you wanted proof that we were there, here you have it:

A Shabbat Meal to Remember

Here's a story from a Shabbat meal a few months ago. My roommates and I decided we were gonna make a meal - a "Heart to Heart" meal. So we each thought of some people we could invite and set out to invite them. There was this one girl who I had run into once last year, with a very interesting relationship to Judaism. She went to a Jewish school growing up but for some reason, left there totally hating Judaism, religious Jews, and anything associated with it. So much so that, now in Penn, when a Jewish friend of hers once asked her if she wanted to work on homework together in Hillel, she firmly refused to step foot into the building.

This girl happened to be lab partners with my roommate, and we decided we had to invite her, which he did via facebook. We were sure she'd say "This is so weird, stop trying to convert me" or "I hate Shabbat and Jews so don't talk to me again" but to our surprise, she responded that she'd love to come! We called the meal for 6:30 and by 7, most of the guests had arrived - except her. After conferring with each other, we decided to start without her, thinking "Okay, she got scared away, or intimidated, or never really wanted to come in the first place". Either way, there were other people at the meal for whom this was an important experience and we began, explaining the Shabbat rituals, getting into interesting conversations, etc.

At 8:30 there was a knock at the door. I went to answer it and there she was, rushing to blurt out apologies for being late, she just got back from a trip, etc. I brushed off her apologies, introduced myself and welcomed her to the meal, getting her a seat and offering her a plate of food. The truth is, I don't even think she ate anything - maybe she already ate, or maybe she didn't trust the kashrut :) The meal went on for maybe another hour - we chatted, laughed, ate, and by 9:45 everyone had left. Before she departed (she had to go run off to meet a friend), that girl came over and thanked us for a wonderful time. Afterward, when we were cleaning up, my roommates and I congratulated ourselves on a Shabbat meal well done and satisfied that at the very least, we provided a bunch of Jews with a positive Jewish experience.

After Shabbat, my roommates and I received the following email:

"Thank you so much for an incredible Friday evening. I don't know if you realize, or if I can begin to express, the extent to which dinner with you and your friends affected me. I was surprised by how familiar your Shabbat table felt; it was exactly what I needed to finally feel at home and anchored in a community, for the first time at Penn. Maybe I'll even run into you at Hillel one of these days :) I hope that it suffices to simply say thank you and I hope you understand what I mean by that."

I literally almost started crying. I don't want to say too much, as this speaks for itself, but one thing I noted was that she had actually missed the whole Shabbat part - kiddush, shalom aleichem, some explaining - nor did she eat much of the food. All we actually had were some good, fun conversations, about classes, fun things in life, Ice Cube, ya know, nothing too special. But in that simple, intimate, experience lies a powerful potential and somehow, it helped make her feel comfortable. It really doesn't take much, other than building up the courage to invite them and for them to come.

When I saw her at Shabbat dinner a few weeks later, she said, with a smile on her face: "Hart - this is all your fault that I'm here!" What can I say, I'm just a messenger ;)

Kentucky!

Oh man - this is a crazy story. Where to start... Well, it started with Amitai, a grad student in physics (he's really smart) winning some essay contest in Jewish thought sponsored by the Jewish studies department of University of Kentucky. The prize included them bringing him in to give a lecture and receive his award. Amitai and I started talking and, after checking some demographics on Hillel's website, thought of planning a Shabbaton to Kentucky, or specifically the University of Kentucky in Lexington. According to Hillel, UK has 200 Jews out of a student population of 20,000, which amounts to 1% of the population. They have a Hillel there but it is not much more than a name - no building, no room, no paid staff and barely any programming; we heard they have maybe two event per year, which amount to a handful of Jews going bowling together or going out for (non-kosher) pizza. So Amitai and I emailed their 'faculty advisers' and asked if, while he was down there anyway, he could run some Jewish programming there, maybe with an experienced friend too. They responded that they'd be more than happy to have us come and even offered to fly me down there too. After a few exchanges, they ended up agreeing to paying for a van and seven of us driving down for Shabbat.

So that was our crazy plan - to drive down to Lexington, Kentucky and make Shabbat. With the plans in place, we started arranging - getting Penn people, the car, food (we had to bring most of the food, as there's not much kosher food in Lexington), and logistics. The big questions was: would anyone come? The advisor at UK's Hillel thought we might 5-10, but wasn't too sure. So we started asking around - mutual friends, group contacts, gchat statuses, whatever. Once when I was talking about this and someone overheard me, they said: "University of Kentucky? I think I know someone who knows someone who goes there who is Jewish!" Sure enough, after some 'mutual friend' searching, I found and contacted her and after receiving an excited message in return, we had found our first Jew in Kentucky.

New story: a few weeks later, I was searching on facebook for 'shabbat dinners' (isn't that what everyone searches for when they're stalking people on facebook?). Why? - Just stam, for no particular reason other than to see what was out there, as I was thinking about how to spread Shabbat dinners at Penn. A simple search returned over 200 hits - groups, events and friends' whose profiles included Shabbat dinners. I randomly clicked on one group on some page and arrived at a group called "Shabbat Dinners" which consisted of 4 members in no specific networks. So I clicked on their names: the first person was some high school senior from somewhere random, the second was a freshman at some college, the third was some guy who happened to have a random mutual friend, and the fourth was a freshman girl whose networks were 'Transylvania University' and 'Lexington, Kentucky'. Lexington Kentucky!?!?! My jaw dropped in total shock and I just began laughing- how the heck did I happen to find someone from Lexington, Kentucky a week before I'm supposed to go there? If it weren't that week, I wouldn't have even noticed that, let alone known where Lexington, Kentucky was. Then I got worried - maybe she's originally from Lexington but now goes to University in, I dunno, Romania? I quickly looked up Transylvania University and was happily surprised to see that it is a small, liberal arts college right next to UK! My next instinct was to see what kind of religious life they have there, whereupon I saw that their website spoke of "its ongoing affiliation with the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)" and offered religious organizations such as 'Campus Crusade for Christ', 'Disciples on Campus', 'Transy Episcopal Fellowship' and 'Transylvania Catholic Organization'. By now I couldn't stop myself from cracking up - how in the world did I happen to find this girl who loves Shabbat dinner in the middle of Lexington at some Christian college?! Truly random, and with no logical explanation, this discovery was for me a clear portrayal of the Hand of God.

I decided that if I had gotten this far, I had to do something more, and so I facebook-messaged her. I told her the story of how I found her and how I was coming with some friends to Lexington in two weeks; "Would she want to join us for Shabbat?", I asked her. I also said she could tell other Jews in Lexington, to take some of the pressure off of her. She wrote back soon afterwards: "Hey. Uhhhh haha this is a little weird but its fine. Are you coming here for Keeneland? I guess I'm kinda interested, I'm not a native of Kentucky and I don't know that many Jews here (considering at my school there's only 4 Jews and they don't practice) and I miss it."

Wow. First of all, you're probably asking yourself "What's Keeneland?" For all you uncultured Americans out there, Keeneland is a preparatory race for the Kentucky Derby, and is the finest and highest-ranked thoroughbred racetrack in the country. Turns out, opening day of the spring races and free-admission-for-college-students day was the Friday we were due to arrive. Second of all, to think that there are 5 Jews there and somehow we found the 1 who cares - and she misses Shabbat or Judaism or something! Anyway, I went to her facebook profile (when someone messages you, you can see their page) and I see the following as her 'quote about myself': "If someone gave a me a blank check and a plane ticket for anywhere in the world I would leave everything, go to Israel and never ever come back. Because that is where my heart is, and that's where I belong"

Whoo. Wow. Not one of my Orthodox, Zionist, gungho-on-aliyah friends (nor myself) have a quote anywhere as powerful as that. And she's in Transylvania University?! We were excited, to say the least to spend Shabbat with her, and some other Kentucky Jews. When I told her we were excited, she said "What? Excited for what?" Excited for what?! To meet her, and to spend Shabbat in a new place with new people which would hopefully give us a fresh look on Jewish life and hopefully provide the same for them.

Part two to come. Hopefully there can be many more parts in the future as well...