Waking Up

Today
I woke up Jewish.

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November 27, 2008

Today was Thanksgiving. We had the in laws over. We made no big announcement but kinda mentioned to a few people what I would be doing on Friday while the rest of America was shopping. I went to bed thinking about life after changing my status on Facebook to say that I was saying Goodbye to Christianity....one Christian at a time. I did not do that. I did not do any symbolic gesture to say goodbye to any of my past. I always thought I would. I meant to go to Mass one last time. I meant to leave some religious statues that I ended up with after my mom died at San Xavier Mission. I just didn't have time for any of that and haven't missed Catholicism.

November 28, 2008

I woke up thinking about going shopping but changed my mind and went back to sleep. I woke up later and decided today would be a good day to watch High School Musical 2 so that we could celebrate later by going to the movies to see HSM3. Watching a movie with my daughters was a fun way to spend the morning. Eventually it was time to get ready quickly because the lounge around attitude was catching up to us and we were going to be late if we didn't start moving. We only had fights about my 7 year old not wearing earrings, who needed to shower first, and who got what towel to get in the way. I let my daughters shower while I took off my nail polish. I was told to take off all piercings, no make up, shower just before heading over, etc. Nail polish was okay, but I wanted to take it off.

When we got there one of the other women converting was just getting started. An older black woman with no family with her. I'm not sure what was her reasoning for doing this, but have been curious. Maybe someday I will ask. I did tease her before about having extra piercings when Rabbi B asked us to make sure we took "any and all piercings off prior to the Mikveh" as she glared at me. Her Mikveh was over quickly and we all got to yell "Mazel Tov" when she was finished. And sing a song that sounds like you are repeating "Cinnamon Toast and Marble Toast" over and over. It was a song I had heard at my son's Bris and my daughters' baby naming ceremonies.

My stomach was in knots. Was it the conversion? No. It was still the nudity thing. And wondering if my sometimes stubborn daughter was going to change her mind just before going in. Rabbi B joked about me removing any "unseen" piercings. I joked that my husband removed them earlier...with his teeth. We had a quick tour with the other family doing the same thing after us. It was a small room with a small but about 4 foot deep pool. It had 7 steps leading into the main part. There was an area where rain water was collected to make the Mikveh Kosher. The water was warm. We were ready. I went into the dressing room (ummm....un-dressing room) with my daughters. We got all naked. The girls went pee (good idea. One of the witnesses, a man from our congregation, said they might have a sign saying, "We don't do blessings in your toilet, so please don't pee in our Mikveh."), and we went into the room with the Mikveh.

Rabbi B. started calling back to see if we were ready. It took awhile to get the girls in the water because it was warmer than they were used to. Eventually we let Rabbi B know we were ready. I went first. There were prayers to read (I did pretty well because many of the words were the same as the prayer for bread), and three complete dunkings to do. I had to stand away from the sides (can't touch anything), fingers and toes and legs spread, and everything must go under (and my hair is longer right now). After I went my two daughters went. They were a formality--like my son--because they were converted by a mohel when they were younger, but some people feel the Mikveh is a necessary final step. We were always waiting to do it together.

After we were done our Rabbi started to leave the room and the girls did not want to get out of the Mikveh. Rabbi B forgot to mention something and came back in as the three of us were doing a very tiny lap of the backstroke...that was a little embarrassing. Nothing she hasn't seen before though, right?

My son went by himself. My husband was in the room for him, but he was in the Mikveh alone. Another male witness from our congregation went in the room to make sure he submerged enough. I kept hearing my son coughing on the water. He's 11 years old and still needed to be reminded not to drink the pool water.

When we were done we got the Cinnamon Toast and Marble Toast song and one of the witnesses said, "You are stuck with us now." And I reminded him that he was also stuck with me! He only seemed mildly frightened.

Rabbi B gave us all necklaces. The kids were given mezuzahs on chains and I was given a Star of David.

And did I mention that a really good friend of mine came with us? She didn't witness the Mikveh in the same room, but she was there for moral support and for the experience. This was the friend of mine that sat with me when my son had brain surgery two years ago, so it seemed very perfect to me for her to be my own personal witness to this event. She had to get back to her kids after, but the kids, hubby, and I went to celebrate the occasion...our own way.

We ate at a favorite local place and I drank a Margarita from the menu of "Limit 2 Margaritas" and they were not kidding! Then we went to see HSM3!

When we got home we decided that my husband needed his own Mikveh in our soaking tub. And did I mention that he had never "been with" a Jewish chick before? We took care of that.

* * * *

Today.

I woke up Jewish. It was a lot like waking up 40 and wondering what all the hoopla was about. I've done nothing different. I've been catching up on laundry. Surfing the net. And looking at lot of ads for holiday decorations. The kids are still the same. I'm still the same only I feel a little different. I feel unsure. But it's silly -- it's about how people that don't know me will act when I say for the first time that I'm Jewish. Will I say it with a disclaimer? Will it be obvious that it was recent? Will it ever feel not a little bit strange to say?

Oh, for my name we decided to go with names that started with the same intitials as my non-Hebrew name.

My Hebrew name is Kelila Aliza. The names mean "crowned" and "joyful."

O Christmas Tree!

It all comes down to the Christmas tree.

I met with Rabbi B with the final questions about my conversion. I was expecting questions about renouncing things...like deity kind of things or maybe bacon.

I had practiced an answer that I thought I could live with regarding The Jesus Question. If I was asked if I believed that Jesus was God I would have felt comfortable saying, "To some people." I really do believe that for some people Jesus totally represents God. And for me? I'll admit I don't really have an answer to that. I have always thought that God was in all of us. So, if that is the case than I am God and Jesus is God. And so then the question should be if I believe Jesus existed. And my answer to that would be: I don't know. I don't believe that the Bible or Torah or probably any "Holy Book" is a re-telling of actual events. So, there you have it. I would have tried to get out of any official denouncing. And also, I would want to hang on to bacon, except during Passover.

But those questions didn't even come up. The big thing that came up was that we (the whole family) shouldn't be having a Christmas Tree. Stockings would be o.k. but a Tree...too much. I said, "Talk to the kids." She knew that we always vote on having a Christmas Tree and the kids always vote to have one and I'm on the fence and my husband...well, it was his idea to finally buy a plastic one to drag out every year (that doesn't smell as good, but is soooo much easier).

I have been on the fence about a tree for awhile now. I know what it means to us and it is not religious at all. If anything it represents something worse: spending money on stuff we don't need and buying into the commercialism of the whole holiday season. And I also feel like the kids miss out on the shared experience of Jews throughout history of going to the movies and eating Chinese food.

Before talking to Rabbi B this week I had already told my husband that I wasn't sure if we should have a tree anymore. We always used my growing up with one as the reason or excuse or whatever for getting one. And then we just really love having the glow of the lights and then there's decorating the tree with ornaments that I've had since I was a really little kid. And the ornaments we got when we had each of our kids. And the Elvis ornaments. And the Larry Bird ornament (he was allowed because he's wearing green and green is a Christmas color according to Hallmark). But I was ready to give all of that up. All for my new religion. Until I was told that I should.

And that's me in a nutshell. I might do anything until someone tells me that I should, ought to, or (and this is a sure fire thing to make me not do it) need to do it. So I should stop having a Christmas Tree? Great, now if I get one I'll feel guilty and if I don't I'll feel like I was bullied into it. Either way this should be a great Christmas. And someone at our synagogue recently asked me if I wanted to wait until after Christmas to convert so I could say good bye to Christ or Christmas. And I started to say that we'll probably put up our tree the day after the conversion, but stopped because we started talking about Christmas in general. And no one seemed upset, but that must have been when Rabbi B registered in her mind, "Must talk to Karen about the Tree Thing."

After The Tree Talk, I talked to another convert and she said, "Call it a Chanukah Bush like we do and then it's okay." But I don't want to do that. I don't know what I want to do. I do think it would be silly to keep getting a tree. Once our whole little family is officially Jewish than having a tree would not feel right. Will I miss it? Sure. I do like the idea of still having stockings. It will be cheaper not having to do presents other than a few from Santa (who is Jewish, by the way. I wonder if he has a tree?). And we already have too much stuff.

This year I think we'll go see HSM3 and then go to Golden Phoenix Restaurant. After eating all the candy from our stockings.

A Rose By Any Other Name

I asked my husband to help our kids pick my Hebrew Name. I wasn't even sure I'd be getting one. When Rabbi B asked about it I told her that I wanted whatever Madonna's was. Wow, even her eyes make a noise when they roll in her head at one of my comments. I'm sure she's worried about my seriousness about the conversion.

That's because whenever she asks a question in front of other people I answer back with a smart-ass/trying to be funny comment. That's because I don't really like talking to a lot of people about my more serious thoughts. And my religious thoughts are serious. Mostly because I seriously don't know most of the answers to most of the questions. And I am fine with that, but I'm not sure if other people are. And I get all hung up on trying to have the "right answers" rather than always giving my honest ones.

Here's some of my honest answers about the topic of my Hebrew Name. I want my kids to pick my Hebrew Name because they have given me my religious identity. In most situations religion trickles down from parent to child. In my family we have done the trickle up thing. They are who they are and I have become what they are. I love that. I love that they have created me in some ways just like I created them in some ways. And that's how it goes. We create and then we let go. So, they have slowly but surely (Shirley?) created my life to identify with Jewish(-ish) traditions and culture and foods and games and stories and characters and now it is almost time for them to let go and see where I go with it.

I don't have to let go of my past either. My past is still all around us. We live in the Southwest and Catholic symbols are on lots of street corners. We just ran into drag queens dressed like nuns last night. And if that doesn't remind me of the mother that did create me first, than what would? I will always be attracted to anyone in a habit because of my own mother, but considering that when she was a nun she did look just like my brother I can't help be even more drawn to men dressed like nuns.

When my mom picked my name she took no consideration for my ethnic background. Or she did, but only of my caucasian side. I have the most "white bread with peanut butter and jelly" name possible. I always wished she had picked a name with more flair...more vibrance...definitely with more spice. Something that reflected my Latina heritage. Something that would define me better than my very pale skin always would. But instead of Consuela Conchita, my own first choice, I have forever been Karen Ann. And I like Karen Ann, but it is so Early 70's-light haired/light skinned girl with knee-hi socks and a mini-dress. And sure, I was that, but I was also a dark hair-dark eyed spicy chica raging to get out.

As far as I can tell the name Karen means "pure" and Ann means "grace." And Consuela is "consolation" and Conchita means "conception." So, if my family picks a name for me from my mom's choice it will be something that means "pure grace" in Hebrew. And if they go by my name choice it will mean "sorry I got you knocked up" in Hebrew.

I meet with Rabbi B this weekend to discuss my true feelings about converting and my Hebrew name. We'll see what happens after that meeting.

Signing Off,

Sorry I Got You Knocked Up (Just trying out how that one feels)

Dating Judaism

We were going to take it slow. We were going to go out once a week or so, see each other for maybe a year and then see how the thing goes. Find out if we are really meant to be together as soul mates or would we be better off as just friends.

We kept trying to go out on our first date, but fate kept interfering. We even made reservations once about two years ago, but things came up that made us rethink everything and decide that it just wasn't the right time.

With all that we went through to try to get to know each other we are deciding now that we must just be meant to be and we are going to jump into a commitment with each other. It's not like we don't know each other, but it some ways we will get to know each other as we go rather than have the long engagement.

Wish us luck and send wedding gifts if you would like.

Learning to Read

Today I took my very first How to Read Hebrew class. Go ahead, ask me how it was...Ok, fine, I'll tell you. I sucked. I don't know what I was thinking. About 10 minutes into class I wanted to say, "Oh, you meant that Hebrew..."

But I'm taking the class from Rabbi B who is helping me become Jewish, so I can't just stand up and walk out of class mumbling something about how I thought it was a cooking class and I must be in the wrong room.

And I do want to do well in this class. I have never been good at other languages. I've always had to buy dreidels that had an English translation so I could know if I got half the pot, put one it, etc. I'm not going to scare myself. I'm not going to freak out. I will ask my kids and husband to help me study. It will be fine.

Lucky for me a friend is also taking the class. It means I have someone for moral support. And someone who can laugh when I mess up.