I Named My Avayrot (sins) "Willow" and "Phoebe"

There is a very large debate in some sects of the Jewish world about pets and how to deal with their "circumstances". Some people believe you cannot spay or neuter a pet because it is against Torah. This leaves a huge problem in our animal world. A rescue kitty or pup is only allowed to be saved from a kennel or from being put down after they have been sterilized. This sterilization is to avoid other animals from being on the streets. Animal population control is an important way to provide security for those who already need love.


Now the big question: Why is it not okay to commit an avayrah in order to do a mitzva? Is it not a mitzva to save an animal from abuse or untimely death? Adoption of an animal is one of the highest forms of respect for G-ds little creatures, no? The idea of opening your home from 1-20 years for another creature and providing it love and attention seems to be something the Torah would support. How is this act of kindness not over-riding the government mandated rule about adoption animals?

On the human front, we also have operations that deal with human sterilization. We are commanded to be fruitful and multiply (Sefer Hahinuch 291). A woman having her tubes tied is not reversible, nor is having a hysterectomy. My wonderful Jewish mother had her tubes tied the day after I was born. "Crap, look what I made! No more!!!!" Ha! A man who has surgery in health related cases can also be left sterile. The prohibitions of sterilization and marriage, however, remain independent, and therefore indispensable medical treatment that causes infertility (as with some prostate surgeries) does not impact their personal status (Tzitz Eliezer 10:25:24). However, a man can get a vasectomy and have it reversed. Think of it as the same concept of the modern tattoo. Now a man is blocking his seed from fertilization, but it does not have to be a permanent situation. It is said all males must have their sexual organs (Leviticus 22:24).

Shlomo Brody wrote a great article about dealing with animals and fertility for the Jerusalem Post. I recommend people read his article. However, we must learn that our faith has evolved with the social needs of others. Jews are now donors because we are able to save a life once we have perished. We are able to also save lives of animals. These animals deserve to be loved. My rescue cat, Phoebe, and my rescue pup, Willow, have greatly improved my quality of life and I know I have done a mitzva by providing them with a loving home. I will continue to get animals from rescues. I feel the puppy mills and pet shops are the biggest sinners. Selling animals that will eventually end up in a pound and be seen in a commercial with "Arms of an Angel" being played in the background.

Pets are a huge responsibility, but they can also be a blessing. I hope if you're thinking of buying or adopting a pet, you take into consideration all the issues revolving around the animal. It is a huge sociological benefit to spay and neuter your pets, despite all religious debates.

Be true to the streets-

Yentapunker

7 Jewish kids go to church weekly

I ran into one of my elementary school teachers just the other day. I used to love seeing her at school because she was the only Jewish teacher and I also could see her at temple with her twin girls. Beautiful young women they were. I used to watch what they wore, how they did their hair, what they said and the terms they used. Girls a few years older always made an impression on me. I think it was because I am an only child, so I had to learn from somewhere. I used to envy these young ladies.




As I exchanged hellos and quickly caught her up with my life, she shared that her daughters were married and she was the grandmother of 7 children. I became excited until she went further into the fact that her daughters had converted and she was not able to see there weddings. My heart dropped.



1st, you must honor thy mother and father. Not allowing your mom into your wedding because she is Jewish and you have left the faith made me not only want to vomit, but reek havoc! I mean what a nightmare for a woman who raised you in a warm and loving home. I cannot think of anything worse than ignoring your mother’s feelings and not allowing her to partake in such a serious event. I know that this family was close and that the woman who stood before me was a very active and loving mother; she’s nothing to avoid! Secondly, by Halacha her grandchildren were still Jewish, but they will NEVER know! These 7 children will not be taught their culture and heritage that is rich with beauty and worth.



I get angered. With the Jewish population dwindling and assimilation being such a serious subject. I stood there trying to be happy for this woman who clearly was also uncomfortable with the situation. Two days later I ran into a woman from the salon that I had previously run into my beloved teacher. She said she held my teacher as she cried on the day of her daughters wedding and how sad the whole situation is. I suddenly realized that simcha is really a view point. For her daughters, raising these kids in a loving home is a simcha. Although I am not saying these two women should be burned at the stakes for leaving their faith and mother behind, I am saying their simcha brings tears to many people’s eye. Unfortunately, these are not tears of joy, but tears of grief and anger.



I try and find a place to blame. Was it our synagogue? Maybe they did not do enough outreach. I certainly know I did not find a love for my faith through it. Was it my teacher’s lack of cultural enrichment? Maybe she herself was not taught the deep values of a Jewish home or how much prayer and culture can enrich your being. Should these young women have gone on birthright as soon as they hit college or not been allowed to date outside their faith as teenagers? It really boggles my mind. In Judiasm there is something for everyone! You just have to be proactive like anything else! You did not learn how to tie your shoe without being taught and you will not find a way to be spiritual without being taught in a myriad of ways!



Faith is a prescription and it’s dosage is whatever you make of it. Some of us like the culture. Some find it through social events or religious holidays. Some people are at the 3X daily. This very situation makes me concerned for my own children (G-d willing I ever find Mr. Right). Will I get the dose right or will I too be excluded from a wedding or have grandchildren that will never know what a joy being Jewish is?



Simcha (happiness) is all in perspective.



Be true to the streets!



Yentapunker

Jewish Mixers and a lesson on why mixing isn’t always what it is cracked up to be: A lesson on Leshon Horrah….

So it is clear that Jewish mixers are an invention from the Jewish grandmother. They’re sly and cunning and deceptively alluring with food and other freebees. As the summer time warms our beaches and many of us have our outdoor activities, we crave company of friends and significant others. At one particular mixer, I was thrilled to have the pressure off. I was dating someone and was there purely for the social aspect. A-ha! A window of opportunity to not feel pressure within the Jewish community.



I had previously asked a friend if his group would like to join mine for coffee. As I was taking off to go to Aeroma (the wonderful Israeli filled coffee house on the west side of town), I stopped my friend mid-conversation to discuss if they would join us. As I overheard his friend speaking to him she stated, “That girl has no chance with him (speaking about her male friend and a woman off in the distance). She has a huge nose and she’s ugly!” My heart stopped. The first thing I thought was holy crap. What if I was the girl she was talking about? Secondly, I looked at the girl exchanging a pleasant conversation with handsome male company and this girl making the comment. I figured her Jewish mother had told her she was absolutely beautiful her whole life. Such a warped sense of self. This girl looked like she did not know what a vegetable was. I was shocked such mean things came into my mind and gained my friends attention. The girl who had just said such harsh things waits for me to get in a word to my friend.



I had a very quick inner monologue that went like this:



Holy crap she just bashed another Jew.

Does she know she’s not a 10, not even a 5?

Why am I thinking such horrible things?

I think I am angry that she spoke horribly about this defenseless woman.

What to say? What to say?

Be smart about this, but do not allow her to act like that.



After the monologue, this came out, “ Hey ___________, I was going to ask you if you and your friends were coming, however, as much as I deeply wish you could come, I do not want to expose my wonderful group of loved ones to someone who not only publically demeans people they don’t know, but seems to take joy from it to make her own esteem flourish.” Her mouth dropped and I suppose she decided to take her anger out on me after I up and left.



The moral: When we open our mouths publically, we earn judgment from others. It is not always right to judge, but it is ALWAYS right to realize when something should not be socially accepted. Leshon horah, the restriction of speaking with an evil tongue. There is always a reason for G-ds rules and guidance. A mixer only works when mixing is allowed.







Be true to the streets!



Yentapunker

Thunder from Down Under: YentaPunker tested, Rabbi Unapproved!

There are plenty of rabbis and Jewish mothers that would cringe and make “Oy vey” commentary, but how could one resist to blog about the truth? The truth of the matter is that I was schlept to Thunder from Down Under in Vegas last week for a bachelorette party. Now, lets paint the full picture for you:




In line were women of every size imaginable, Hashem created or store bought. My favorite had to be the grandma with the walker and the oxygen tank. I knew there was something terribly lucid about this woman when she was trying to move faster as she realized the better seats were taken. The only thing I could think of was how unsanitary the thoughts and words of these women were. A newly 18 year old girl with piercings and a Rastafarian hat stood behind me with her mother. He mother expressed joy and stated this was not her first show. Of course when I asked where they were from they responded with Reno. Of COURSE you are! How silly am I? I couldn’t believe a girl would want to see something so sexual with her mother. I realized my mom would have been okay to come with me, but I would have been adamantly against such things.



I was amazed… See we learn a few things when being in multiple Jewish communities. In the more observant sects of Judaism, we understand that men’s thoughts and motives can be changed by sights and introductions to avayrot (sins for a lack of better translation). Men are visual creatures that do not operate solely on visions, but do get caught up in them. Women are not as instructed to be mindful. Women are taught to be coy and realize they are vulnerable creatures that are moved by emotional connections. In the reform household my mother raised me in, I was taught that women are sexual creatures that need and desire both types of love, physical and emotional… both before marriage.



One shabbos in Los Angeles there was a rabbi who mentioned a poem called To My Coy Mistress. The premise of the poem was that a man wanted to have sex with a woman he just met. She clearly wanted to be courted, but the man was very carpe diem about his libido and basically states “Baby, I don’t have all night”. I found this to be the VERY feeling of the show. These Australians were going to show their “underoos” as soon as possible, before one of these women popped an artery because “baby, these ladies don’t have all night!” So the show begins!



At first I was sure all these men were Jewish. The dancing was horrible and the choreography looked like something out of Fiddler on the Roof. (I am so sorry Grandma!) As it continued and the pants came off, I realized that this was the most unkosher venue I have ever attended. Now, don’t get me wrong, people are entitled. However, I was more than surprised as to see women of all ages touch the tushies of men they don’t know, or worse, the man’s unit! I was absolutely dumbfounded when a mother-in-law of the bride to be (not my bride thank goodness) was tossed on stage and made out with and fondled. The man pinched her nipples as she touched him in places that are making this YentaPunker blush like it’s going out of style. No one should ever see a 60 year old gray haired Bubie on stage!



I was really surprised when we left. I felt like I needed some mikvah action. Like something needed to be washed away quickly! My eyes had been scared! Then it dawned on me. I used to ask why the heck someone who was in the orthodox world wouldn’t see a porn or maybe even just watch TV. That the beaches could be difficult if you’re teaching your child to be snius (modest) and clubbing could be wicked. Then I realized what I had just left was 1 call short of a donkey show. It took watching an old lady being happily molested on stage for me to realize that I might have been desensitized by my experiences in the world. Now, I am not saying that I agree with completely shutting experiences out due to fear or emotional trauma, but I do see why one would limit their experiences.



I feel like my punk rock--ness went down a little in Vegas. Like me being Jewish let me be a little less “hardcore”. That somehow To My Coy Mistress only served a purpose for double mitzvas on shabbos when the kids go to sleep. That knowing someone might actually be better than paying to see something you cant have. Later realizing, that someone cannot even respect what they could have with a significant other. That love and lust can be mutual or mutually exclusive. It made me question what these women might be missing from their husbands or boyfriends. It made me wonder how many of these women connect to Hashem on a level that’s so meaningful, that cheap penis cannot compare.



Ultimately, I learned that my Judaism follows me from shul, home, and to the depths of the Las Vegas strip and that even when I think I might have a moment to break free from what might bind me, I’m still bound. I think I have seen enough “thunder” for one lifetime. It’s not to say that women shouldn’t enjoy breaking lose, but above all I will NEVER say that men are worse than women after what I have experienced. And as I drove home from Vegas, the idea that someone needed to take off their clothing for money only made me sad inside.



As always, be true to the streets (and yourselves)

YentaPunker

A Yentapunker Origional

Society tells us, “Stand in line and take a number.”


Well, they make numbers seem so optional now.

And Tattoos no longer taboos.

Make a trend out of what they brand.



7359624

“Take a number!”

Lines once made for dyin’

Women and children cryin’

Packed-

Moved like cattle

Guns to fists my people battle

And you want me to take a number?



Why don’t I just sew a patch on my arm?

What’s the harm?

I’ll give you a number.

6 million of me filled in line.

Not doing time-

Doin’ eternity.



Brother don’t look at me.

You called that a ghetto?

Your ghetto gets groceries!

I don’t know what a food stamp is.

And your showers have water

That’s different too.

Washing our bodies with toxic gas

Being called Jude

Where the only way your number was gone was burned.

In an oven no less.

The flames of fire cave in your breast.



Heads shaved, shoes stolen, women raped for fun.

Police were public enemy number one.

Crimes against humanity-

Nazis countless, Jews none.



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Take a number! Take a number you say?

Kristlanach was not just some shards of glass on broken sidewalks

But broken dreams from twisted hearts.

And those tears fallen were swept by angels.



Take a number!

But numbers mean nothing

I am a statistic

Of the sadistic-

Time?

You conceder the 1930’s the good ol’ days.

Take a number

7359624

I’ll stand in line, but I already have my number.

Culturally Overlooked

I think religion is interesting because for some people it’s terribly personal and for others, it is absolutely not. Living in a predominantly Christian society has been interesting. I, like many of you, was stuck in an elementary school class doing something that was not part of my Jewish culture. In the 4th grade, I had to write a letter to Santa Clause. Interestingly enough, he never showed up to my house to deliver the million dollars as per my request. To make matters worse, the Easter Bunny rejected my 100lb of chocolate request. In jest, as an adult I claim these two Pagan features of the Christian religion are anti-Semitic and do not want to share their goodies with Jewish kids. However, in my humor, there is some rage. In high school, I had to fight with my choir director. He repeatedly tried to make me sing about Christ and even threatened to fail me. I was appalled. I felt like there was this constant battle between church and state in my public education. And of course, it got so bad my parents had to follow up the issue with a Jewish stereotype and call a lawyer. I, now as an educator, do not allow any holiday parties. I do allow healthy discussion, but in no way do I allow judgment or ridicule.




I think the classroom has led to many misconceptions about what is appropriate in the realm of religious tolerance. In school, Hitler jokes and Holocaust jokes are not permitted, but it’s okay to dye Easter eggs. Clearly I see a difference, but the concept between hateful speech and ignorance is still a blurred line. What message are we sending? What does the Jewish kid do?



As we get older, we experience this naïve perspective, when a college roommate or an acquaintance makes a poor decision to express how okay one of these taboos is in a Jewish kid’s public school experience. We get Christmas and Easter cards and have holidays off because the government gives us those days, but we have to take off Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah. I’ll work Christmas and Easter! What do I care?



Ultimately, with all this kvetching, I know I want better for my children (if I ever have any), or at least yours. I think we as a culture need to express that not everyone values the same holidays. It’s true we have many things that are flawed about our society, cultural awareness being one of them. I have not figured out how to solve the problem yet, but I am sure I can identify the scenario as it unfolded.



So for Jewish kid that sat upon Santa’s lap, but he never came…. For any Jewish kid who learned Christmas songs… For every Jewish kid who had to take a test in college on a Jewish holiday… For every kid who’s school took picture day on Yom Kippur….Remember, we can make a movement for cultural awareness, but we cannot be silent. One small stand at a time might make it easier for someone else.



Keep kickin’ it old shul and be true to the streets!

Yentapunker

Activism Means We Have to Do Something?

Miriam-Webster’s dictionary stats that activism is: a doctrine or practice that emphasizes direct vigorous action especially in support of or opposition to one side of a controversial issue.




The problem with understanding this term in a Jewish context and an English teacher’s context is that I understand “active” as a verb. This means there is actual movement or action within every calculated move. So what does it mean to be an activist? Can one do so in the context of their own spiritual beliefs or do we hand this thought over to the Zionists and socially aware? I think we can have it both ways.



To be an activist within your own spirituality might be learning or taking up new prayers. It can be attending a class that makes us more active spiritually and within the community. To actually connect with G-d is an act of activism. When every ounce of faith you have is poured into a heartfelt conversation or plea with G-d, when we realize that we need to put in some work with G-d to get something in return. Maybe it’s a short Bracha we learned in class or maybe it’s a prayer that might help traffic part on the way to work. Sometimes it’s mitzvot that we do in turn to connect. Whatever it might be viewed as, it’s active.



Social activism comes with a different context and sometimes at a different price. Both are seen as valuable in the Jewish world. To stand with Israel is an activist approach. Maybe you feel more Jewish or more connected when you stand with your Israeli flag on a street corner and sing “Shalom Alechem” while the opposition shows depictions of terrorism in IDF uniforms. We attend rallies, encourage peaceful demonstrations, and teach a local group or random neighbor something insightful about Israel. Maybe it’s as simple as screaming at the left wing reporter on the news that clearly has misguided information about a place you know and love.



None of the above suggestions or tactics work for you. Clearly you want to be an activist in your Jewish world and of course you’re entitled to decide what is “Jewish” so let’s look at what you like. Maybe you’re very much into the concept of social work or you have a skill like law. You can do some Pro Bono work for your community or help Jewish families in crisis. You cant do this? Why? You work at a grocery store. Perfect! Start a canned food drive for Mazon, A Jewish Response for Hunger.



The problem with wanting to be an activist and actually being one is that we can all WANT something. Doing is really the key, really the act of mitzvot. By being an activist in your Jewish life, you are connecting with G-d on a level you feel most comfortable. No one can tell you that Tikkun Olam, my favorite of all concepts in Judaism, is not needed or valued.



I implore the Jewish community to challenge itself. What makes us active in our own faith and actions? What is the verb in our daily worship or conversation with G-d? If we are able to find one, try to find more. Every act we do can help create a bond stronger than the one previous. It is when we forget that activism is defined by doing that we, as a community, can become empty vessels. An active heart and active hands will promote a Jewish home. Jewish homes promote Jewish community. A Jewish community can promote Tikkun Olam. And to think, just a few small actions a day…



Be true to the streets!

Yentapunker

It's Punk Rock to be Wicked

Hurry and clean the bread out of your homes! Quick! Those bagels are about to become the very link to your own personal disconnect with Hashem. What? No bagels? That’s fine, a breakfast burrito or some pancakes will do. Yeah, right! Welcome to Passover! Carbohydrates in some of their best forms become sinful thoughts for eight days.


For two nights (the two seders), we find ourselves surrounded by family and friends. For some, it’s a joy. For many, it’s a challenge. For few, it may be the only Jewish experience we have all year. The way we handle our Judaism can also be compared to the four sons mentioned in the Haggadah. The four sons are: the wise (“Chacham” in Hebrew) , the simple (or lazy, “Tam” in Hebrew), the wicked (“Rasha” in Hebrew) and the silent ("She'aino Yodea Lishol" in Hebrew, meaning "The Son who Doesn't Know Enough to Ask").

Many people focus on the one who does not know how to ask. However, ironically, many of us at the table are actually the wicked son. I mean, if you’re at the table, you probably have the idea you’re Jewish right? It is exactly this that keeps cites like our very own Punktorah.com alive. For many Jews, you have sat year after year at a shabbos table or a Passover seder and thought “Why am I here?” You know at least the most basic of laws and you might even attend young adult events or have hit a Hillel in college or a BBYO event in your teen years of punk rock rebellion.

What is crucial to understand about all these sons (or daughters… I mean, I am a YENTApunker… not a MENCHEpunker) is that each has a place at the table. What Jewish person wouldn’t have enough food for one more extra person anyway? Yet, it is the wicked son that seems to be embraced by many of us though. The wicked thinks the laws apply to other Jews, but not themselves.

Situation: It’s a Monday morning and after a long night of punk rock craziness you ignored your alarm. You’re now totally screwed and cannot make it to work on time. You throw on a shirt that is only moderately wrinkled, hop in your economy vehicle, and speed to work.

Now, it is highly possible that a police officer never catches you on the way to work. However, Hashem sees everything. He knows that you’re aware you’re breaking laws and putting yourself or others at risk. If you continue to speed, knowing the legal limit, you too fit in the wicked category.

Why would I want to label many of my loved ones as wicked and not the wise or the simple? Well… it seems so much nicer to realize we all have an ability to grow. The wise son almost implies we have nothing left to learn. However, our nishamas have much to learn and can always learn more. Many of us are not simple. We are not lazy, we are functioning in the secular and the Jewish community. The long hours of Tikkun Olam have to count for something right? But wicked, many of us proudly are, despite the connotation.

Wicked sounds so unpleasant, but I implore you challenge the connotation and see its beauty. Embrace the idea that you might learn something at the table or that you might have it in you to learn something this year. Being wicked doesn’t have to be looked upon as bad. Acknowledge and embrace your wickedness. Enjoy it, but use it to identify where you can grow spiritually.

Overall, the laws do apply to us all. This Pesach try and find one law to learn. Hell, pick up some Leviticus and read. It won’t hurt you anymore than those commercials for Viagra do. I mean, if it’s from Hashem it’s perfect right? So nurish your spiritual roots in four glasses of wine and remember, it’s punk rock to be wicked. L’Chaim and Chag Sameach!

A Jewish Namesake

It’s terrible to feel like you don’t stand out. Like you could fall in to chasm of Jewish people at shul and never be identified because your parents thought it was beautiful to make your name sit amongst many. It’s the way we work as a people. A baby boy clearly has a chance of being named Josh, Ari, Dan, Issac, Jacob, David or Matthew. A baby girl also has a risk of commonality: Rivka, Leah, Sara, Rachel or Miriam. Some of us have been blessed by getting both a first and a middle name that are common, almost stripping us of our individuality at the core.

For years my mother bragged that she had given me a very Jewish name. She said she wanted everyone to know with a name like Rachel Sara that I would be a strong woman. At shul she could yell my name and thought it was a sheer delight when 20 other girls would turn their head to a thick Brooklyn accent yelling for her daughter. Little did she ever know she would have to direct her voice to the other Joshes and Davids of the world because that’s where I was, playing football during breaks at shul.

Everywhere I went someone had my name. It made me feel like I was swimming in a world of Rachels and I had nothing special in my name to offer. I met a Merav once and nearly wept at the fact she had such a different name than most. Even dating got awkward since I have had a fair share of dates with Davids and Daniels. Speaking to my friends, we would have to name them attributes of their character, to distinguish one from the other.

As I got older there were so many Rachels at one particular shabbos table that I had to become “Schiff”. Now I not only had a first name that was so common we had to come up with something new for me, but I felt like a line backer for a major football team. What girl gets called by her last name? Like being a member of the tribe was a team and I had a jersey that read “Schiff” in large letters on the back. I was like all the others, but now had a new issue of feeling masculine. People introduced me by my last name, like I had no first. This name thing was really getting to me.

Just recently, I decided to read “The Boy in Stripped Pajamas”. A young boy name Shmule is in a death camp. He’s around 7 years old and talks about how everyone on his side of the fence has his name. He complained that his name was nothing special and that he was one of many. I bawled. What a way to identify with people. To have a name that binds you culturally, historically, and shows understanding on such a deeply rooted level. Then, I finally realized what my mother had been so proud of. It took me 27 years and a book with a 7th grade reading level to get it, but I think it did.

A name is like an onion. First, at the center (for my name), is Rahel, who is buried in Israel at the side of a road. Ever since her, there have been other Rachels in Jewish history, each making a layer around the original. My name adds to the many generations that have come since then. I stand on the shoulders of strong women who have come before me.

It is an Ashkenazi tradition to name your child after a family member who has passed away. My mother continually tells me that all Jews are family. That when one is hungry, we all need food and that when one needs help we should give as though they are our flesh and blood. By giving me a name that seems so unoriginal, so plain, she was giving to those women who had come before me.

Although I still find it frustrating to thumb through my blackberry and try and distinguish one Jewish name from the next; I have found some humor and pride from it. Funny enough, I owe my comprehension and appreciation of my name to a small, fictional boy in stripped pajamas.

I no longer complain about being one of many.

Be true to the streets! –Yentapunker

Role reversal

It's tradtion. Yearly I make my mom take me to the pumpkin patch and we search endlessly for a pumpkin that I am going to carve and love for at least 2 weeks. This has been an anual event since the year I was born, but this year was different. This year, I dont live at home and I wont be passing out candy to kids who come by my house. I dont NEED a pumpkin. My mom however, near tears, calls me and asks me to come home for the anual event anyway. So, happily, I went. This time mom searched for her favorite pumpkin. She usually picks the most awkward looking one. As she searched, she looked up at me and said, "This isnt for you anymore is it?" I loving looked at her and said, "The first 23 years were... it's about time you have your turn." I turn 25 in 2 weeks and these are the new changes. Between the move, the bills, the job... I got lost in this adult behavior. My mom, the best woman in the world, is trying to find her little girl in the patch. And although there I was, it wont be the same trip anymore.

American History X

I watched American History X, although I have seen it long before, on Simcha Torah. I watched it because my students sugested it. They said it had meaning and power. As I watch the scene in the highschool bathroom, it dawns on me. The irony, the symbolism, the raw emotions in the film are all uncanny. I cannot fathom a better movie to show how twisted hearts can be. How someone you hate becomes someone you pitty. How sometimes the best education comes from the place it is unexpected, like a man folding sheets in jail. Overall, their recomendation has me deep in thought. I find it more peculiar that my students were daring enough to sugest such a movie. I stared at a character with a large swastica on his chest for 2 hours. That two hours I became angry and enraged by the symbol, but the character was calming and brought hope. Unfortunatly, his brother pays the toll for his actions. Like a sign from Ghandi, an eye for an eye. Although, in this movie the only blind one at the end was the boy who killed Daniel, the student who LEARNED tollerance.

In any event this movie made me remember what I went through when I was younger. The swasticas on my desk and locker. Being chased home and beat up... these things happened. Thank G-d I know they are avoidable. Thank G-d I know now that I can teach in hopes to avoid this. It only takes one person to change a perspective... what matters most is whos perspective and the motive behind it.

To Bret- the Man in the Sukkah

Well, it’s been three years since college, but I think I can give this a try again. See, I wouldn’t have even bothered; it didn’t interest me because no one reads these right? Well this last weekend I had a few revelations. One, being that I should probably pray more and talk with Hashem, but the other was I needed to write. I didn’t think it was something I needed to share. I have journals full of blogg worthy items, but no one was able to read those.

This weekend, in the sukkah, I met (excuse me…re-met) a very attractive guy. I apparently had met him before, but I didn’t remember. Anyone who knows me, knows not to put that past me. The first thing he says to me is, “You’re Yentapunker!” I was thrown off. I don’t have my pictures posted. How does he know? He explains to me that he met me the same time last year, but this year he was upset. I hadn’t posted in a VERY long time. What!?!?! Posted??? Posted what? Apparently he was referring to my blogg.
This attractive Jewish man reads my posts. Interesting. Okay I am sure he’s not my besherit, but he might just be onto something.

So here I am again folks, making an online comeback 20 days before my 25th birthday. I’m a high school English teacher making her comeback, just as Britney Spears did. (Hopefully I wont have to dance like a hooker to make my way back into readers hearts.)

As they say in Europe- Cheers!

The original Yentapunker
AIM:Yentapunker
Email:Yentapunker@yahoo.com

I left my blood in San Fransico

Ok, as we all know in life some people have fears. I have more than my fair share. So i went on a road trip to see birthright people who I went to Israel with and Ian, Matt's best friend. So we're chillin in Berkeley with Ian for the majority of the day and later head to Oakland where Matt and I reunite with Arnon for hot dogs and hot coco (dairy before milk)... Anyways we crash at his pad and the next day try and see Matt from USF. So heres Matt and I on the bay bridge for three hours. I gotta take care of some stuff and this guy is trying to jump off the bridge. So of course I am yelling "jump jump!" while matts yelling at me that I should be more compasionate to a man whos obviously distraught. (I think hes selfish for imposing on so many lives, but i do feel deeply sorry for the guy) Anyways then We FINALLY meet up with USF Matt who buys Matt and I lunch and then proceeds to have a pledge wash my car. Eugine was an awesome sport about it. (i have pictures of anyone wants them) THen Matt and I drove cross town to Shanie's appartment and met up with Paul, Dave, and Molly. Very exciting when we all met more people at the cheesecake factory and hung out that night. So heres where my vacation turns... First off we watched 8 crazy nights. That makes me think of my mommy cause Whitey has her voice. Makes me sad and I cry. Yes, i cried at Dave's appartment. Then we get back to Shanie's place and I end up at the hospital. This is where the "life thought" takes place. When you're in the hospital at 3a.m. and you are the only sober person being treated. We totally take for granteed the fact that people are willing to study years and years to cure and save us. Then they treat the staff poorly and cannot comprehend anything going on. It saddened me. So as I am on my best behavior and being helped... the RN says "Rachel, we are not sure whats wrong... we need to draw some blood" Mind you... the reason I was there was because I was bleeding made me worried. So my response goes something like this "I am not a damn pin cushion!" I ended up allowing him to do it. I didnt cry, didnt pass out, and didnt give him any problems. I just allowed him to help me. So I maynot be over my biggest fear, but now i can see it maturely. Its to HELP me, not torment me (I was confused about that before apparently) Well I am on antibiotics now and doing better. Matt was absolutly wonderful to me and everyone has been watching over me well. Tonight my family gets together for Pesach and I am excited. Ok so i cannot drink the first year I am legal to, but its ok. I'll be surrounded by loved ones. So, I left my blood in san fransico (Lindsay says its ok cause it actually pumps through my heart) and I have learned that although that man jumping off the bridge has far more troubles than I do, we had something in common that day... we both needed a lil help from a medical professional. The difference is he's probably still with the cops and I am back in OC in my lovely little appartment flushing my body out with fluids. :) Happy Passover!

A tribute to my dad:


I just got home from Greg's house. Hes like a big brother to me. We ended up talking about family and what we want when we're older. Then he proceeded to ask me what I want in a person. I realized I want someone like my father and thats where my thoughts have led me astray.
I have to thank my dad. There is no man in the world who has been such a loving and supportive man. I am so glad i got him. Hes never missed a bday, hes always taken days off work when i was sick, took me places, made me eat with him every sunday morning, taught me love for the ocean, always showered me with love, took me to the zoo, colored with me, let me paint his face with makeup, made me attend temple, always was faithful to my mom and I, went sledding with me, bought my girlscout cookies, ate my snickers when i went trick or treating, went to the horse races with me, always made me do well in school, promised to beat up boys who hurt me, always made me hug him and kiss him before i left the house, helped me move into my first place, traded baseball cards with me, bought my my first mit, gave me my first car, made up games with me, changed many of my diapers, takes me to the hospital when i break bones, calls me daily at my appartment to sing me silly songs to make me smile.... and to think he even said he loved me every day when i was a teen who dispised adults... this man is my living hero!
I guess the past few days I have been so affraid of how horribly unethical politics have been and how depressing it seems to raise kids in this enviornment, but my dad has done such a good job (Dont think my mom didnt.... she did half the work!) but i am so impressed and please to have him as my male figure. So when I was talking to Greg about a man I want for my kids... he has to be at least half the man my dad is.
Dad, thanks for being the man every kid wishes to have as their pops. You are by far the most outstanding man I have ever met. I love you very much.

I am reading (for the millionth time) The diary of anne frank for class. It's funny how when you're 12 and read it, then when I was 16, and now at 21... just sitting in my appartment, alone and quiet. Here I am reading, thumbing through the pages of a life stoped short, when I come across my last name mentioned in her journal. I had family around where Anne was and although it may not be my family at all, my eyes could not be removed from that word on the page. Yes, I lost a lot of family in WWII. Many died in concentration camps and were shot by the SS. I tried to get past that one word, but it was like all other words had dropped off the page as I was reading the fate of my family in some 13 year olds journal. I finally got a glass of water and was able to continue, but how many times did I have to read the book before I was going to notice my family name mentioned in a book full of death and discomfort. I guess I am more aware of the world at 21 than I ever was at 12 and 16.

Today Israel is being bombed by Syria and Lebanon... I made calls to my family in Israel and wrote a sincere email to those who are in the IDF. I urge anyone who reads this to do research for themselves. I read the Wallstreet Journal and their commentary disgusted me. It was bias and completely incompetent. Either way, this maybe another battle in the eyes of Americans, but for Israelis this is what they do daily. I am slowly learning that I cannot trust people to inform themselves and that I must educate myself to become a better supporter of my father's native country. I implore you to do the same. Not because you are Jewish or Israeli... You maybe completely opposite, but because you care about world affairs and politics. You MUST realize that civilians are being killed. Yesterday a young Israeli girl was murdered by an axe splitting her skull... yes, an extreamly sad story! Please, protect yourself from ignorence, it maybe the only way to support countries other than our own.

Something to think about…

Today, March 21, 2004, I am sitting at my desk at Cal State Fullerton realizing as an American I am not patriotic. I am questioning why after last nights experience, when I met a man who served in the army, I am not proud to be a citizen he so graciously protects? I found my answer quickly. He is protecting me, but my governing body is not. I am now becoming at risk of loosing all my personal freedoms. You must be questioning what exactly makes me feel this way. Let me share with you…
The government has been at war in the Middle East for well over a year now. Terrorism has not disappeared and many men and women my age have fallen. On the home front, we as a society are not dealing with that loss. We have an election to tend to and some amendments of the constitution to abridge. The issue that concerns me the most is what I would like to identify as the “anti-gay clause”. How absurd can this country be? While we are dealing with hatred from other countries we are now also inflicting a dislike for our own. When our founding fathers created the constitution and our country they did not say that gays were not people too. If we put as much emphasis on the war as we do on denying our own people’s rights, the war would be over and Bin Laden would have been found. Such wasted energy disgusts me.
What concerns me the most are the people who feel since they are not gay that this does not apply to them. This should be a wake up call! This is how the Holocaust started and how we imprisoned Japanese during WWII. There major events in history occurred because the mass population did not feel directly effected, so they felt no need to intervene! What makes separating their freedoms from heterosexual’s any different than making a black person use a different water fountain because of the color of their skin?
I am not gay, but I am concerned for the homosexual population in the United States. Just like many other Americans, we are all different in some way or another. This should be celebrated! What people are missing is that once you have taken rights from one type of group it enables the government to do it again. Soon Catholics will not be able to practice because they are infringing upon the president’s beliefs. Maybe blacks will have to move to the back of the bus again. Someday women may loose the right to vote because we are fewer in numbers than men. Immigrants will not be allowed to drive and have to pay higher taxes. What right does the government have to impose these inhuman laws upon people?
The American public is missing the mark on what this country was founded on; equal rights and justice for all. Instead of creating more hate upon minorities, we as a large community need to ask ourselves what rights we feel we are willing to give up. Laws that take away from certain minorities only fuel the public for hate crimes and social isolation. The line will not stop with gays, it will continue until the government feels it has gained “moral” control over all of its occupants.

Phone call-

Sometimes its the sound of the furry persian man who makes you giggle for over an hr when you should have been studying. Also, its he who makes avoiding scarey guys easy... have him call and say he's your dad!

Ali... you're the shit! I missed ya budy! Have fun with the brain in lab tomorrow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Cammel dreams.
Rach

Free time!!!! This my friends is a Halmark Moment! I am done with my homework and have a half hr before my class! Whoa, this is almost statistically impossible. It makes me wonder what homework I have over looked, but who cares! I am sure its only worth a ton and I forgot it. :) Tomorrow is voting day. YOU MUST VOTE!!!!! its your civic duity, u cannot bitch about the president if you do not vote for him. Although, if ur vote is going to Bush, please stay home and do NOT leave. Bleh on Bush. Goodness I am a republican and I dont like him. I wish I could but he's ...well I wont get into it. I am politically charged. ALthough, if you disagree with me I am ok with it. We are all intitled :) I also cleaned my room. Dude in kindergarden i would have two gold stars. One for my homework and one for my room. How cute huh? As for everything else, I am applying for an internship and we'll see how that works tomorrow. As for now... I am gonna bask in my nothingness!
Rach

I went to the snow with Chris from down the hall yesterday. He went Skiing and I played snow bunny. I fell asleep on my lawn chair in the midst of all these children throwing snow balls... this proves I can sleep through anything. I had a good time though. Me, all warm on a lawn chair, in about 4 layers of clothing, my beat up skater shoes, and a scarf I aquired from Nimrod in Israel. Its probably the most beautiful and well earned nap I have ever had. Ahh the comforts of 32 degree and below weather. Once chris and I came down the mtn. I almost ran out of gas, but luckly we hit a station and we didnt have to push my car (its not like i drive a bug). After we bought limes and lettuce and BBQed at my place. Had a Corona and headed over to what I like to call "Mike's Club House". I show up and find Mike, Mark, Jason, Dave, Jen, Joey, Steve, and Stephenie chillin' with like 25 beers at their feet. Chris decides to partake and I chilled with my buddies. Later Edmund, Mark, and Jeremey show up as well. What Studs...! To make a non exsistant good story short... We all had a rockin time when Joey got naked and danced in the kitchen. On the bad side Chris lost his phone. If you find it boys ...CALL ME! SO here I am atempting to do my homework before the school week starts and I am letting you all know its comming along just fine ;) Wish me luck!
Rach