interviewed by ichur72
1. What do you like best about the city where you live
now? What do you like least?
Like best: the convenience of living here. The city is large enough to have amenities (like grocery stores that stay open until midnight, and a cultural life), but small enough not to be stifling (e.g. 15-to-20-minute commute). It's large enough to have an interesting mix of people, but small enough to have affordable property values.
Like least: the politics. We are so strongly a one-party town that it's nearly impossible for new ideas to get a fair hearing. We have the same old people making the same old mistakes year after year (the city is flirting with bankruptcy now), but there really doesn't seem to be a way to convince people to try to change it. Suggesting that someone consider voting for a non-Democrat goes over about as well as suggesting that he kill and eat his own children for the nutritional value.
2. What is your impression of Orthodox Judaism "from the outside", as it were?
Orthodox Judaism is not monolithic, just like no other movement is monolithic. Within the context of Orthodoxy I have had wonderful experiences and horrible experiences; I have been welcomed and shunned; I have participated and been only an on-looker; I have had good insightful conversations and been brushed off. It all depends on the specific people. So it's difficult to make any sweeping statements, but I will try to summarize my perceptions anyway.
Orthodox Judaism has a strong sense of community, probably stronger than the other movements. If I showed up in a strange city near Shabbat, I would expect that some Orthodox family would welcome me in, while if I called another congregation looking for hospitality I might get a puzzled reaction. (Might or might not; I know that my own Reform congregation can field this request, for instance.) In fact, the one time I did find myself alone in a foreign city for Shabbat, I sought out Chabad.
This sense of community is tempered by certain assumptions. Members of the community I've interacted with (who I otherwise do not know) assume that I am looking forward to producing a large family -- or, if their age-radar goes off, assume that I am very sad that I'm obviously unable to have kids. The family is central, and the idea that a woman (1) would not want to have kids and (2) would want a career seems strange to the people I've met. The Orthodox women I've interacted with (again, if I have no other shared context) have seemed to live in such a different world that we have trouble finding conversation topics -- and some of them definitely cast me as the mutant. It makes for awkward social dynamics. (Men, in general, have been unwilling to interact beyond "hello, the women's section is over there".)
I understand where at least some of this comes from, of course -- it's a cultural norm, and traditional halachic interpretations encourage this approach to family and community. I'm not dissing it; just observing. And obviously there are Orthodox women with careers, in fandom, in geek circles, and so on. They exist, but it's not the way to bet if I walk into a random shul in Passaic.
Theologically, I see an inconsistency that, ironically, is a charge some Orthodox speakers levy against the other movements -- picking and choosing to get the interpretation you want. Orthodox Judaism teaches that halacha, written and oral, came from God at Sinai, and that the codification we have now is true and mostly immutable. I would completely respect that if the principle were applied consistently; as it is, I have trouble understanding how rabbinic interpretations enacted long after Sinai -- such as adjustments for living in the Diaspora -- are ok, but the interpretations made by the Conservative movement within the halachic process as they understand it are problematic. There is obviously some key difference about how these two halachic movements have approached interpreation over the centuries (more centuries for the one than for the other :-) ). (Err, let's get the footnote out of the way for anyone else who's still reading: the Orthodox movement as an entity only dates to the 19th century, same as the others. They, however, assert that they are the inheritors to the centuries-old tradition before movements arose, so I'm using "orthodox" as shorthand for that even before there was "orthodoxy".)
I have run into some interpretations of halacha where the "obvious" intent seems clear to me, and yet someone finds a rules hack to get around that. There is the whole "Shabbos goy" situation in all its myriad forms, for example. Or making arrangements for a business transaction on Shabbat, but not actually handling the money or signing the contract, and therefore declaring it to be ok. It's not that the people doing these things are (necessarily) "bad Jews"; they see a rules hack as superseding the apparent intent. They see only trees; I see both trees and forest. Again, I stress that I am not criticizing it; rather, I am failing to understand it, and find myself put off by it with my current level of understanding.
The Orthodox Jews I have met take their obligations seriously overall, and I respect that. (Some, sadly, take ritual obligations much more seriously than ethical obligations, and public ones more seriously than private ones, but every group has its negative examples.) I have perceived a sense of certainty among some that I would call excessive; when any person or any group claims to have the truth, as opposed to a truth, I worry -- whether it's Shas in Israel or the Christian fundamentalists here in the US. (Yes, I've drifted slightly into politics, but this certainty of what is and is not correct shows up in interpersonal interactions too -- just check any Jewish mailing list or newsgroup.) I have heard many more Orthodox than non-Orthodox Jews say "this is the way you must do things", and I don't think that's really what Orthodox Judaism teaches.
Err, I suspect I've wandered pretty far from the intended question, but I'm not sure what to focus on. I'd welcome followup discussion, and I hope I haven't offended.
3. How did you choose the synagogue you go to?
A (different) rabbi had suggested I visit them, and when I stumbled on their web site on a day with an afternoon service (with convenient timing with respect to when I left work), I decided to pop in and check them out. I was warmly welcomed there (best reception I've received anywhere), and I liked what the rabbi had to say in his mini-sermon that day, so I went back for Shabbat, and then kept going back, and realized that the more I heard this rabbi the more I liked him. He was (and is) smart and insightful, personally traditional and open to other ideas, educated but not off-putting. Eventually we had some private conversations about theology and the Reform approach, and I lost the "flinch" reaction I was having to affiliating Reform.
So I guess I chose it because I liked the people and the rabbi, and I now stay because that's still true, and the theology fits, and it's a place where I can feel free to participate, and I really, really respect the rabbi. He's a mentor and a role model.
4. How did you get into RPG and what's your favorite game?
I started playing D&D (the "blue set") with friends in high school because it sounded like fun. This was pure hack-and-slash dungeon-trashing; we didn't understand about role-playing. I continued playing in college, and eventually met up with people who were focused on story and character more than on combats. It took some getting used to, but it was much more fun that way, so I kept playing. I ran one AD&D campaign myself for several years (complete with plethora of house rules, like all D&am;D games...), but I wasn't good enough at story so the episodes didn't fit together. (And, frankly, I was making some of it up in real time, when players speculated out loud about things that sounded more cool than what I'd actually planned.) We had some neat characters, though. :-)
I've played in other milleuis -- Champions (superheroes), malevolent future (Paranoia), horror (My Life with Master) -- and other fantasy-based game systems (RuneQuest! chief among them), and I find that I connect best with sword-and-sorcery settings. (I'm not fussy about rules; D&D, RuneQuest!, and (from what I understand of it) GURPS are all fine.) I can imagine fantasy worlds more easily than I can imagine a future world or one set in a particular culture I don't know well (e.g. Land of the Rising Sun). I've never played in a game based on a specific fictional world, but I suspect I would find it too constraining. Authors can't think of and spell out everything; with something generic like medievaloid fantasy with magic, there's a large quantity of source material. (And one specific aversion: I am so not into superheroes, for reasons I can't really explain.)
5. If you could have any job in the world, what would it be?
Ethical billionaire. :-)
Ok, assuming we're talking about some approximately-full-time job that is financially necessary and for which I have or somehow could develop the relevant skills...
Several options have crossed my mind. I'll go ahead and toss out two from the considered-and-rejected list first:
Musical composer, for anything ranging from choral works to film scores: I've got some relevant skills here (not nearly enough, of course), and I get a charge out of seeing my work (any work) actually in use, but I don't know if I can be creative on demand and unless you're John Williams or the like the pay probably sucks. (Quirk: symphonies don't speak to me, though electronic music involving some of the same instruments does.)
Rabbi: ok, this has a lot of appeal, but you really, really don't own your time, and you're somewhat constrained geographically. (For example, if I were a Reform rabbi, there are exactly five places in Pittsburgh where I could theoretically be employed in that capacity, and for three or four of them I would still have to move house.) More significantly, though, it would cost me some amount of the relationship I have with my rabbi, and that matters. This is a field I might have gone into (had things developed differently), but is not one I am likely to go into now. On the other hand, I'm very happy to be able to be a lay assistant.
(Aside: not cantor. While I'm good at it and enjoy it, if I'm going to pursue a religious profession it's going to be as a rabbi, not a mere performer.)
So perhaps this shows some lack of creativity, but I'm going to say that I'd want to be a master and guru within my current field, technical writing for programmers. I know a lot about writing this kind of documentation, though ironically I never get very far when I contemplate imparting that knowledge in written form. Being able to work for companies like my current one, doing the kinds of things I do now, and being regarded as enough of an expert that it would make sense for me to actually write that book (or series of columns, or whatever), has a lot of appeal. And this type of job has a lot of benefits I find appealing, including lack of travel, interesting subject matter, daily interaction with other geeks, creativity (yes, really), and the ability to shape the software itself. A past manager once described me as (to use her words) "God's gift to technical writing"; I believe her callibration was off, but that would be a wonderful level of skill to aspire to. (You never actually get there, of course.)
Everyone knows how this meme works by now, right? If you want to be interviewed, leave a comment and I'll ask you five questions. You'll post the answers in your journal along with the same offer for other people.
Like best: the convenience of living here. The city is large enough to have amenities (like grocery stores that stay open until midnight, and a cultural life), but small enough not to be stifling (e.g. 15-to-20-minute commute). It's large enough to have an interesting mix of people, but small enough to have affordable property values.
Like least: the politics. We are so strongly a one-party town that it's nearly impossible for new ideas to get a fair hearing. We have the same old people making the same old mistakes year after year (the city is flirting with bankruptcy now), but there really doesn't seem to be a way to convince people to try to change it. Suggesting that someone consider voting for a non-Democrat goes over about as well as suggesting that he kill and eat his own children for the nutritional value.
2. What is your impression of Orthodox Judaism "from the outside", as it were?
Orthodox Judaism is not monolithic, just like no other movement is monolithic. Within the context of Orthodoxy I have had wonderful experiences and horrible experiences; I have been welcomed and shunned; I have participated and been only an on-looker; I have had good insightful conversations and been brushed off. It all depends on the specific people. So it's difficult to make any sweeping statements, but I will try to summarize my perceptions anyway.
Orthodox Judaism has a strong sense of community, probably stronger than the other movements. If I showed up in a strange city near Shabbat, I would expect that some Orthodox family would welcome me in, while if I called another congregation looking for hospitality I might get a puzzled reaction. (Might or might not; I know that my own Reform congregation can field this request, for instance.) In fact, the one time I did find myself alone in a foreign city for Shabbat, I sought out Chabad.
This sense of community is tempered by certain assumptions. Members of the community I've interacted with (who I otherwise do not know) assume that I am looking forward to producing a large family -- or, if their age-radar goes off, assume that I am very sad that I'm obviously unable to have kids. The family is central, and the idea that a woman (1) would not want to have kids and (2) would want a career seems strange to the people I've met. The Orthodox women I've interacted with (again, if I have no other shared context) have seemed to live in such a different world that we have trouble finding conversation topics -- and some of them definitely cast me as the mutant. It makes for awkward social dynamics. (Men, in general, have been unwilling to interact beyond "hello, the women's section is over there".)
I understand where at least some of this comes from, of course -- it's a cultural norm, and traditional halachic interpretations encourage this approach to family and community. I'm not dissing it; just observing. And obviously there are Orthodox women with careers, in fandom, in geek circles, and so on. They exist, but it's not the way to bet if I walk into a random shul in Passaic.
Theologically, I see an inconsistency that, ironically, is a charge some Orthodox speakers levy against the other movements -- picking and choosing to get the interpretation you want. Orthodox Judaism teaches that halacha, written and oral, came from God at Sinai, and that the codification we have now is true and mostly immutable. I would completely respect that if the principle were applied consistently; as it is, I have trouble understanding how rabbinic interpretations enacted long after Sinai -- such as adjustments for living in the Diaspora -- are ok, but the interpretations made by the Conservative movement within the halachic process as they understand it are problematic. There is obviously some key difference about how these two halachic movements have approached interpreation over the centuries (more centuries for the one than for the other :-) ). (Err, let's get the footnote out of the way for anyone else who's still reading: the Orthodox movement as an entity only dates to the 19th century, same as the others. They, however, assert that they are the inheritors to the centuries-old tradition before movements arose, so I'm using "orthodox" as shorthand for that even before there was "orthodoxy".)
I have run into some interpretations of halacha where the "obvious" intent seems clear to me, and yet someone finds a rules hack to get around that. There is the whole "Shabbos goy" situation in all its myriad forms, for example. Or making arrangements for a business transaction on Shabbat, but not actually handling the money or signing the contract, and therefore declaring it to be ok. It's not that the people doing these things are (necessarily) "bad Jews"; they see a rules hack as superseding the apparent intent. They see only trees; I see both trees and forest. Again, I stress that I am not criticizing it; rather, I am failing to understand it, and find myself put off by it with my current level of understanding.
The Orthodox Jews I have met take their obligations seriously overall, and I respect that. (Some, sadly, take ritual obligations much more seriously than ethical obligations, and public ones more seriously than private ones, but every group has its negative examples.) I have perceived a sense of certainty among some that I would call excessive; when any person or any group claims to have the truth, as opposed to a truth, I worry -- whether it's Shas in Israel or the Christian fundamentalists here in the US. (Yes, I've drifted slightly into politics, but this certainty of what is and is not correct shows up in interpersonal interactions too -- just check any Jewish mailing list or newsgroup.) I have heard many more Orthodox than non-Orthodox Jews say "this is the way you must do things", and I don't think that's really what Orthodox Judaism teaches.
Err, I suspect I've wandered pretty far from the intended question, but I'm not sure what to focus on. I'd welcome followup discussion, and I hope I haven't offended.
3. How did you choose the synagogue you go to?
A (different) rabbi had suggested I visit them, and when I stumbled on their web site on a day with an afternoon service (with convenient timing with respect to when I left work), I decided to pop in and check them out. I was warmly welcomed there (best reception I've received anywhere), and I liked what the rabbi had to say in his mini-sermon that day, so I went back for Shabbat, and then kept going back, and realized that the more I heard this rabbi the more I liked him. He was (and is) smart and insightful, personally traditional and open to other ideas, educated but not off-putting. Eventually we had some private conversations about theology and the Reform approach, and I lost the "flinch" reaction I was having to affiliating Reform.
So I guess I chose it because I liked the people and the rabbi, and I now stay because that's still true, and the theology fits, and it's a place where I can feel free to participate, and I really, really respect the rabbi. He's a mentor and a role model.
4. How did you get into RPG and what's your favorite game?
I started playing D&D (the "blue set") with friends in high school because it sounded like fun. This was pure hack-and-slash dungeon-trashing; we didn't understand about role-playing. I continued playing in college, and eventually met up with people who were focused on story and character more than on combats. It took some getting used to, but it was much more fun that way, so I kept playing. I ran one AD&D campaign myself for several years (complete with plethora of house rules, like all D&am;D games...), but I wasn't good enough at story so the episodes didn't fit together. (And, frankly, I was making some of it up in real time, when players speculated out loud about things that sounded more cool than what I'd actually planned.) We had some neat characters, though. :-)
I've played in other milleuis -- Champions (superheroes), malevolent future (Paranoia), horror (My Life with Master) -- and other fantasy-based game systems (RuneQuest! chief among them), and I find that I connect best with sword-and-sorcery settings. (I'm not fussy about rules; D&D, RuneQuest!, and (from what I understand of it) GURPS are all fine.) I can imagine fantasy worlds more easily than I can imagine a future world or one set in a particular culture I don't know well (e.g. Land of the Rising Sun). I've never played in a game based on a specific fictional world, but I suspect I would find it too constraining. Authors can't think of and spell out everything; with something generic like medievaloid fantasy with magic, there's a large quantity of source material. (And one specific aversion: I am so not into superheroes, for reasons I can't really explain.)
5. If you could have any job in the world, what would it be?
Ethical billionaire. :-)
Ok, assuming we're talking about some approximately-full-time job that is financially necessary and for which I have or somehow could develop the relevant skills...
Several options have crossed my mind. I'll go ahead and toss out two from the considered-and-rejected list first:
Musical composer, for anything ranging from choral works to film scores: I've got some relevant skills here (not nearly enough, of course), and I get a charge out of seeing my work (any work) actually in use, but I don't know if I can be creative on demand and unless you're John Williams or the like the pay probably sucks. (Quirk: symphonies don't speak to me, though electronic music involving some of the same instruments does.)
Rabbi: ok, this has a lot of appeal, but you really, really don't own your time, and you're somewhat constrained geographically. (For example, if I were a Reform rabbi, there are exactly five places in Pittsburgh where I could theoretically be employed in that capacity, and for three or four of them I would still have to move house.) More significantly, though, it would cost me some amount of the relationship I have with my rabbi, and that matters. This is a field I might have gone into (had things developed differently), but is not one I am likely to go into now. On the other hand, I'm very happy to be able to be a lay assistant.
(Aside: not cantor. While I'm good at it and enjoy it, if I'm going to pursue a religious profession it's going to be as a rabbi, not a mere performer.)
So perhaps this shows some lack of creativity, but I'm going to say that I'd want to be a master and guru within my current field, technical writing for programmers. I know a lot about writing this kind of documentation, though ironically I never get very far when I contemplate imparting that knowledge in written form. Being able to work for companies like my current one, doing the kinds of things I do now, and being regarded as enough of an expert that it would make sense for me to actually write that book (or series of columns, or whatever), has a lot of appeal. And this type of job has a lot of benefits I find appealing, including lack of travel, interesting subject matter, daily interaction with other geeks, creativity (yes, really), and the ability to shape the software itself. A past manager once described me as (to use her words) "God's gift to technical writing"; I believe her callibration was off, but that would be a wonderful level of skill to aspire to. (You never actually get there, of course.)
Everyone knows how this meme works by now, right? If you want to be interviewed, leave a comment and I'll ask you five questions. You'll post the answers in your journal along with the same offer for other people.