I grew up in Baltimore, MD, where the one non-Jewish family within a 5-block radius was famous simply because they had Christmas decorations when the rest of us were lighting candles in our windows for Chanuka. I always felt bad for the kids in that house around Halloween–in the 15 years that I lived in that neighborhood, we never once had a trick-or-treater come to the door. (Not for any lack of hoping on my part, though.)
Whenever I left my house, I would run into at least 10 people that I knew. Riding my bike as a kid, I always had to wear a helmet in spite of my dislike for them, because the one time I didn’t, a woman driving by knew my mom and called to tell her I was biking without a helmet. Believe me, as an 8-year-old, that was tragic. On Shabbat, throngs of people filled the streets without the slightest regard for cars, knowing that it was the rare car that would be driving in our neighborhood that day.
I can actually remember the first time I knowingly interacted with a non-Jewish person my age. It was in a tennis camp, I was in 4th or 5th grade, and we had an argument over whether Jesus was God, or something equally consequential to children of our age. I felt pretty smug when I was able to tell them that Jesus was Jewish, but it was rather pointless, as the kid refused to believe me.
Even when my family moved from Baltimore, we didn’t quite leave the Orthodox Jewish fold behind. In fact, we transferred to the Five Towns, which is just swimming in Jews. Almost every restaurant is kosher and most clothing stores are targeting the tzniut (modesty) audience, with the mannequins in the windows wearing long sleeves and skirts. It’s an Orthodox paradise–or hell, depending on your particular viewpoint or mood.
I have my issues with the Modern Orthodox community–both in terms of the physical community and the religious group–and I’m not especially good at or fond of keeping my opinions to myself. But I do love it, in spite of it all. A community is always a useful thing to have, and I find the Modern Orthodox one a decidedly wonderful one. It has its problems, like everyone does, but I wouldn’t want to negate everything it has to offer.
Simi Lampert is an Orthodox Jew and a realist, in the way that cynics like to say, “I’m not cynical, I’m being realistic.” She is a senior at Yeshiva University’s Stern College, and is the editor-in-chief and founder of the YU Beacon. Her column, Modern Unorthodox, appears here on alternating Tuesdays. (Except for when her editor slacks off and doesn’t post her column until Wednesday.)
