Connect with us

Uncategorized

Converting to Judaism has defined my high school experience

This article was produced as part of JTA’s Teen Journalism Fellowship, a program that works with Jewish teens around the world to report on issues that affect their lives.

(JTA) — During the pandemic, my mom decided to start baking; my friend Reagan learned Osage, a Native American language; my brother taught himself how to skateboard. 

I decided to channel my free time and energy into converting to Judaism. 

Growing up in the Bible Belt, I was only ever exposed to Christian theology. Almost everyone around me was a Baptist. Although my parents intentionally raised my brother and me without a focus on religion, I grew up going to Christian preschool, Christian summer camps, and being surrounded by other Christians–just because there weren’t other options. While this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, I always knew that Christianity wasn’t right for me.

At first, the idea of eternal life and an all-knowing God provided comfort, but as I got older I started to feel disconnected from Christianity. Concepts like the Holy Trinity never made sense to me, and by age 12 I thought I had given up on religion entirely.

I first started looking into Judaism towards the end of 2020. I’m not really sure what led me to this; I just stumbled upon it and found that its emphasis on making the ordinary holy, repairing the world, and the pursuit of knowledge was a perfect fit for my already existing beliefs. My parents were a little bit shocked but ultimately supportive when I told them that I wanted to convert. My mom’s main concern was that I would become the target of antisemitism. “I’m happy for you and try not to think about the what-ifs,” she said while driving me to the Jewish community center so that I could board the bus headed to the BBYO Jewish youth group’s International Convention. 

In the spring of 2021, I emailed the rabbi at a local synagogue about my potential conversion. During our first conversation, he asked me if I’d heard about the custom of rabbis turning away potential candidates three times. I told him I had, but that if he turned me away I would just keep coming back. After the meeting, I signed up for conversion classes and started attending services regularly — and I wasn’t alone. 

According to a 2021 Tablet survey, 43% of American rabbis are seeing more conversion candidates than before. The reasons for conversion are diverse. Some candidates fell down an internet rabbit hole that led to a passion for Judaism. Others took an ancestry test and wanted to reconnect with their Jewish heritage. Many were raised as Reform Jews but weren’t Jewish according to stricter halachic, or Jewish legal, standards and decided to convert under Conservative or Orthodox auspices. Despite the common stereotype that Jews by choice must be converting for the sake of marriage, many rabbis said that converts are less likely than ever to be converting for a Jewish partner. 

After meeting with a rabbi about the potential conversion, candidates are expected to learn everything they can about Judaism. In my case, that meant 21 weeks of hour-long, weekly conversion classes in addition to independent study on Jewish mysticism, traditions, and ideas. Candidates are also expected to become active members of their local Jewish community and attend services regularly. 

Once the candidate and the rabbi feel they are ready to convert, a beit din, or a court usually made up of three rabbis, is assembled. They will conduct an interview, asking the candidate about what brought them to Judaism and basic questions about what was taught during conversion classes. When the beit din has guaranteed that the candidate genuinely wants to convert, the candidate immerses in the mikveh, a pool used for ritual purification. After submerging in the mikveh, the convert is considered to be officially Jewish and is typically called up for an aliyah, ascending the platform where the Torah is read. 

According to Rabbi Darah Lerner, who served in Bangor, Maine before her retirement last year, the main difference between teens converting alone and teens converting with their family is the parental approval that’s needed, but otherwise the process is very similar. “I treated them pretty much as I did with adults,” she said. For me, the only parental approval needed was my mom telling my rabbi that she and my dad were fine with me starting the conversion process. She also noted that it was easier for teens to integrate into the Jewish community because people were excited to see young people interested in Judaism. 

A mikveh, like this one at Mayyim Hayyim outside of Boston, is a ritual pool where Jews by choice immerse as part of the conversion process. (Courtesy Mayyim Hayyim)

She said that the Jewish community gave the teens a place where they could ask questions and not be shut down. “If they have a pushback, or a curiosity, or a problem we allow them to ask it and we give them real answers or resources,” she said. 

“I feel extremely privileged when youth come to me with these questions and these desires,” Rabbi Rachael Jackson, from Hendersonville, North Carolina. Jackson has worked with three teens in the conversion process over the past two years. Like Lerner, she doesn’t require teens to wait until they turn 18 to begin the conversion process. However, it’s not unusual for rabbis to recommend that teens wait until they turn 18 to begin their conversion.

My conversion process has defined my high school experience. I’ve been able to connect with other Jews at my school through BBYO, which has helped me find a community at school and meet people who I might not have met otherwise. Although it’s made me feel farther from the Christian community I was once a part of, Judaism has given me spiritual fulfillment, a love for Israel, and a sense of community — both in my synagogue and my BBYO chapter. 

Others who have gone through the process feel much the same way. “I wouldn’t even recognize myself,” said Haven Lail, 17, from Hickory, North Carolina. “My whole personality is based on being Jewish. That’s what I love.” Adopted into a Jewish family at age 12, Lail felt drawn to Judaism because of the loving and accepting community she found. 

Raised as a nondenominational Christian, Lail attended church regularly with her biological parents, but not for the religious aspect. “It was all hellfire and brimstone,” she said. Neglected by her birth parents, she only went to church because she knew there would be food there. 

Lail started the conversion process at age 12 through a Hebrew high school, and four years later, she submerged in the mikveh and signed a certificate finalizing her conversion. The process was simple, but she was shocked that so few Jews knew about the conversion process. “It was a little weird,” she said. 

The Talmud says that because “the Jewish people were themselves strangers, they are not in a position to demean a convert because he is a stranger in their midst.” However, it isn’t uncommon for converts to feel alienated from the rest of the Jewish community. “There’s this fear of going to college and still being othered because you still won’t quite fit in with the people who have been raised Jewish,” said one high school senior from North Carolina.

He was shocked by how alienated he felt after making his conversion public, and wanted to stay anonymous because he worries that once people find out that he converted, they’ll see him differently. “I didn’t ever really explain it to anybody except for the people really close to me,” he said. But after his rabbi called him up for an aliyah — a blessing recited during the reading of the Torah — one woman from the congregation began to bring it up to him every time she saw him. “People don’t realize that it can be a touchy thing and very, very othering,” he said.

I usually don’t mind personal questions about my conversion, but asking someone why they converted or pointing out that someone is a convert is frowned upon by Jewish law. I used to feel like everyone could tell that I wasn’t raised Jewish, but after one of my BBYO advisors thought that my conversion was just a rumor and couldn’t believe that it was true, I realized that wasn’t the case.

All of my friends and peers who were raised Jewish have memories of Jewish summer camps, Shabbat dinners with family, and a lifetime of other experiences. I often struggle with not feeling “Jewish enough” or like I missed out, especially because so many Jewish customs revolve around the home and family. My parents will often come with me to Shabbat services, but don’t participate in Jewish customs or celebrate Jewish holidays with me. “Anything that is a ritual in the home, they don’t really have the ability to have that autonomy,” said Rabbi Rachael Jackson of Agudas Israel Congregation in Hendersonville, North Carolina.

Grace Hamilton, a student at Muskingum University in New Concord, Ohio, has struggled with imposter syndrome during her conversion. Ever since she started college, she’s been questioning her place in the Jewish community and hasn’t been practicing Judaism as much as she used to. “I haven’t prayed in a really long time,” she said. She used to tell herself that once she finalized her conversion she would finally feel Jewish enough, but after a conversation with her rabbi, she realized that wasn’t the case. 

According to Rabbi Rochelle Tulik at Temple B’rith Kodesh in Rochester, New York, many converts feel like they will never be Jewish enough. “That, no matter how hard they try, how many books they read or put on their shelves, no matter how often they come to services, or how many menorahs they light, somehow they’ll be caught,” she said in a Rosh Hashanah sermon she named “You Are Not an Imposter.”

Despite the struggles that many converts face, others like Rabbi Natasha Mann, who now serves as a rabbi at New London Synagogue in England, immediately felt at home within the Jewish community. “I felt like people were excited to have me there and wanted to hear what I had to say,” she said. After a family member mentioned that she might have Jewish ancestry, Mann began exploring out of curiosity. “I started looking into it, just because I felt that it was another piece of the puzzle,” she said. 

Coming from an interreligious and intercultural family, she wanted to explore another aspect of her heritage, but ended up connecting with Judaism in a way that she hadn’t connected with any other religion. After two years of study, she decided to officially start her conversion process.

The Jewish community gave Mann a place where her ideas were taken seriously and she could have religious discussions, even as a teen. “I don’t know what my life would have looked like if I hadn’t found somewhere to really express and delve into that,” she said. “And luckily, I never have to.”


The post Converting to Judaism has defined my high school experience appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.

Continue Reading

Uncategorized

Jewish witchcraft isn’t as weird as it sounds

Madonna, incongruously, may be largely responsible for introducing the public to a mystical, magical image of Judaism — one that went beyond old men bent over books, studying laws for keeping kosher or Shabbat. Her red string bracelet and her studies of kabbalah gave the religion a new air of mystery and occultism.

But Judaism has always been full of mystical, magical traditions. Jews made amulets to protect against the evil eye, or for luck and prosperity. They beseeched and pacified the dead. Rabbis wrote protective charms for their flock. Psychics and palm readers told the fortunes of Jews and non-Jews alike.

A new exhibit, “Jews are Magic: Occult Practices from Palmistry to Psychics” from YIVO and the Center for Jewish History, delves into the history of the occult in Ashkenazi Judaism. The display, which pulls from YIVO’s archives, has examples of occultism drawing from two Jewish communities: the shtetl and the city.

One side of the exhibit showcases letters to great rabbis asking for blessings and remedies, as well as written spells and amulets protecting against demons like Lilith. The other features photos and biographies of professional Jewish clairvoyants and fortune tellers, who worked mostly in urban areas serving both Jews and gentiles with seances, palmistry and the like, advertising in newspapers and performing on stages.

It’s a lot to cover, and it’s complicated not only by the history but by a quote from Deuteronomy, highlighted in the exhibit. It explicitly forbids those who “useth divination” as well as those who are an “enchanter, or a witch, or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard or a necromancer.” It is a comprehensive list, and doesn’t mince words, calling all of these magicians “an abomination.” Yet even great rabbis and Talmudists wrote charms. How could magic be so pervasive in Judaism when it is so expressly prohibited?

This is the fundamental question of the exhibit, but the show is small and has limited space to fully examine the contradictions. Its artifacts span so much time that it is difficult to intuit the connections between, say, Terfren Laila — a traveling psychic born Else Terese Frenkel who wore a ruby-adorned turban and pretended to be from Singapore by way of India (despite her Yiddish accent) — and letters asking a Talmud scholar to heal a loved one.

Thankfully, to open the exhibition, YIVO held a panel discussion between two scholars, Rokhl Kafrissen, an expert in Ashkenazi women’s folk magic, and Samuel Glauber, whose expertise is Jewish occultism in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Moderated by YIVO’s Eddy Portnoy, the panelists discussed the ways that superstitions arose in shtetls and were mined by those looking to make a few shekels.

Kafrissen explained that magic was a normal part of Jewish life for centuries, largely practiced by women; their domain was the home, encompassing everything from health to wealth, including charms and remedies. And just because these women’s rituals weren’t a “normative” part of Judaism — which is to say, institutional or recorded by official religious texts — they were certainly a normal part of life. Women led rituals such as cemetery measuring, a practice in which string was used to encircle the graveyard while praying and later used to make “soul candles” for Yom Kippur, and removed the evil eye from anyone concerned they had been cursed — what Kafrissen called “everyday Ashkenazi magic.”

But over time, these rituals — long central to Ashkenazi life — were pushed out as some Jewish leaders hoped to modernize their religion. Science rose to take the place of folk magic, and people began to dismiss these practices, which were rarely written down, as mere superstition.

This sense that Judaism was full of magic, however, fed easily into Christian suspicions about Jewish witchcraft, and perhaps encouraged some of the urban psychics and spiritualists to lean on Judaism to increase their mystery.

Glauber’s research focuses on this latter, urban category, a far cry from the shtetl folk magic. These Jewish men and women took part in a craze that enraptured far more than just Jews — seances and fortune-telling were trendy throughout the Victorian era and beyond, and its Jewish performers did not only serve Jews. (Though those suspected to be Jewish were covered hungrily by the Jewish press.) They worked magic on stage and sold their services to eager consumers hoping to speak to the dead or know the future.

Some of these performers tried to hide their Judaism, like the turban-wearing Laila, who managed to become famous enough to tell the fortunes of celebrity clients in Los Angeles and London. Another was trusted by Stalin.

Others, such as Abraham Hochman, were open about their Judaism; Hochman helped the Jewish immigrant community in New York by using his supposed psychic abilities to help women who had arrived in the city find runaway husbands. (The problem was so pervasive that the Forverts had a “Gallery of Missing Husbands” column to do the same.) One branded himself a mystical rabbi, leaning into Judaism’s mystique, which led to an audience, Glauber said, made up mostly of Christian barmaids.

Much of this information discussed by Glauber and Kafrissen is not included in the exhibit, which largely consists of fragments of papers from YIVO’s archives. The end of their discussion touched briefly on yet another rich source of magic: modern Hasidism. But neither the discussion nor exhibit had space to expand on this topic, making it hard to find the throughline between demon-warding amulets and today’s Judaism.

Still, no exhibit or discussion can capture the subject in its entirety. What “Jews are Magic” does best is spark curiosity, and a desire to learn more. That, in itself, is a kind of Jewish magic.

The exhibit ‘Jews are Magic’ is on display from May 26 to Dec. 31 2026 at the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research in the Center for Jewish History in New York City.

The post Jewish witchcraft isn’t as weird as it sounds appeared first on The Forward.

Continue Reading

Uncategorized

Staunch Israel critic and Gaza trauma surgeon Adam Hamawy wins NJ-12 primary

(JTA) — Adam Hamawy, the staunch Israel critic who served as a trauma surgeon in Gaza, is expected to join Congress after winning the Democratic primary in New Jersey’s 12th district on Tuesday.

The political novice held a 12-point margin ahead of second-place candidate Brad Cohen with 86% of the vote in, even as he faced questions over his past ties to Omar Abdel-Rahman, the “Blind Sheikh” convicted on terrorism charges in 1995. Hamawy’s camp had called the questions “gross and bigoted” and said the attacks against him were “getting more desperate than ever.”

At a time when Israel is becoming increasingly unpopular among Democratic voters, Hamawy’s victory makes him the latest in a string of vocally pro-Palestinian progressives to win Democratic elections in blue districts in this year’s midterms, following fellow New Jersey candidate Analilia Mejia and Chris Rabb in Pennsylvania.

“The Democratic establishment just got a wake-up call!” wrote PAL PAC, a pro-Palestinian group that had endorsed Hamawy, on X. “This victory proves what we have known all along: Standing firmly and unapologetically for Palestinian freedom is a WINNING platform.”

Hamawy, who is credited with having saved Sen. Tammy Duckworth’s life during the Iraq War, was also boosted by $2 million in spending by American Priorities, a super PAC that aims to counterweight the pro-Israel lobbying group AIPAC by installing pro-Palestinian progressives in Congress. He was endorsed by a slew of left-wing politicians and campaigned alongside the streamer Hasan Piker, who’s been accused of antisemitic rhetoric. He is set to succeed Rep. Bonnie Watson Coleman, who is retiring at the end of her term.

As an opponent of Israel’s Iron Dome missile defense system and a supporter of a complete arms embargo and the right of return for Palestinian refugees, Hamawy will become one of Congress’ sharpest Israel critics if he wins November’s general election, which he is expected to do in the deep-blue district.

Hamawy said that he finds antisemitism “abhorrent” and that he is “deeply worried about its continued rise” in a statement to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency last week.

“As a Muslim, I understand what it feels like to face bigotry, to feel unsafe in your community and to have your loyalty to this country questioned,” Hamawy said. “In this country, we have seen recent attacks at both synagogues and mosques. I see our safety as intertwined.”

Asked about Jewish constituents who disagree with his stance on Israel, Hamawy told JTA, “I hope we can still connect on shared values and goals, including peace, justice, safety and dignity.” He added that his door “will always be open.”

Ken Martin, chair of the Democratic National Committee, did not mention Hamawy’s pro-Palestinian advocacy in a statement congratulating him on his win.

“As a veteran, combat surgeon, and small business owner, Adam Hamawy has continually served his community and our country. He is a proven fighter for working families,” Martin said. “We look forward to welcoming him to Congress, where he will continue the fight to lower costs, expand access to healthcare, and make life more affordable for New Jersey families.”

This article originally appeared on JTA.org.

The post Staunch Israel critic and Gaza trauma surgeon Adam Hamawy wins NJ-12 primary appeared first on The Forward.

Continue Reading

Uncategorized

Scott Wiener wins spot in general election for San Francisco House seat as a Jewish critic of Israel

California State Sen. Scott Wiener advanced Tuesday as the frontrunner to succeed former House Speaker Nancy Pelosi in Congress, in a contest closely watched in Jewish politics after Wiener called Israel’s actions in the Gaza War a genocide and called for a halt to arms sales to Israel.

Wiener, a 55-year-old progressive Democrat who is Jewish, advanced with the most votes, with  42% of the ballots with about half counted as of Wednesday morning in California’s top-two primary for the deep-blue San Francisco district Pelosi has represented for nearly four decades. In November’s general election he will face the runner-up Democrat, San Francisco Supervisor Connie Chan, who is backed by Pelosi.

In his victory speech, Wiener promised to fight the Trump administration’s “disaster of a regime” that has “commandeered this country, that is tearing down our democracy and the rule of law, that is getting us into disastrous wars.”

“I’m polite but not quiet,” he added. “I’m not going to wait my turn.”

Wiener’s possible arrival in Congress comes amid a broader reshaping of Jewish Democratic politics, as a more progressive and younger generation of Jewish candidates increasingly embraces a more critical approach toward Israel.

The Israeli-Palestinian conflict became a key issue that defined his congressional campaign. In an interview with the Forward last year, after announcing his bid, Wiener said his approach reflects that of the “large majority of Democrats in Congress” who don’t want to sever ties with Israel but are critical of the policies of the right-wing government.

Wiener’s declaration in January accusing Israel of genocide caused an uproar among Jewish leaders and voters nationally and prompted his resignation as co-chair of the California Jewish Caucus.

Wiener had already positioned himself as a progressive on Israel. He was an early supporter of a bilateral ceasefire, called the war “indefensible” and said he would back congressional measures to halt the sale of offensive weapons to Israel. But his declaration of genocide came under duress, after he faced widespread backlash from progressive voters when he refused during a candidate debate to say whether or not he believed Israel was committing genocide.

The episode reflected both the political pressures facing Jewish members of Congress and the changing landscape of Democratic leadership.

Wiener is running in the company of Massachusetts Rep. Seth Moulton, who is challenging incumbent Sen. Ed Markey in Massachusetts; Brad Lander, running against Rep. Dan Goldman in New York; and Daniel Biss, the Democratic nominee for the Illinois seat represented by retiring Rep. Jan Schakowsky, all of whom promised not to take contributions from the Israeli government-allied American Israel Public Affairs Committee.

These Jewish candidates remain supportive of Israel’s existence and reject efforts to isolate the Jewish state. But they are now more willing to embrace language that would have been politically unthinkable for mainstream Jewish elected officials just a decade ago, when figures such as retiring congressman Jerry Nadler and the late Reps. Nita Lowey and Eliot Engel, all of New York, were the faces of progressive Jewish politics. Pelosi, who often spoke of her pride in her Jewish grandchildren and her father’s early support for Israel’s founding, led a generation of Democrats for whom unwavering pro-Israel support was a given.

Wiener’s election would signal the start of a new era. Notably absent from Wiener’s remarks on Tuesday were references to Israel, antisemitism or his Jewish identity.

Other California races

Other high-profile California races saw progressive candidates outside the bubble as centrist and conservative candidates advanced in open primaries where the top two vote-getters advance to the general election.

In Los Angeles, with about half of votes counted, Republican ex-reality TV star Spencer Pratt (29.5% of the vote) appears poised to advance to the general election, along with incumbent Democratic Mayor Karen Bass (36.5%). Nithya Raman — a democratic socialist who once won a pro-Israel endorsement — lags well behind them with about half the votes counted. Billionaire Democrat (and former synagogue president) Adam Miller was a distant fourth, with 4% of the vote.

And with a slew of Democrats splitting votes in the governor’s race, Republican talk show host Steve Hilton led all candidates with 27% of the vote, closely trailed by Xavier Becerra (26%), who was the health and human services secretary under President Joe Biden. Billionaire progressive Tom Steyer had just under 20% of the vote with about half of the votes counted.

Rep. Brad Sherman of Los Angeles will advance to the general election, staving off a challenge from fellow Democrat Jake Levine, a former Biden administration official.

Rep. Ro Khanna had 57% of the vote in his Silicon Valley district, meaning he will most likely win the office without a runoff. Khanna is one of the most outspoken critics of Israel in Congress.

The post Scott Wiener wins spot in general election for San Francisco House seat as a Jewish critic of Israel appeared first on The Forward.

Continue Reading

Copyright © 2017 - 2023 Jewish Post & News