Converting
Written May 2003
For the first thirteen years of my life,
I cared little about my religion. I attended preschool at Temple Beth Am
in Massachusetts and since then went to religious school at various temples.
Though I went and enjoyed Judaic studies, I was never particularly interested
in Judaism or the Hebrew language. In fact, I quite hated Hebrew.
We moved here to Virginia two summers ago, and it took a year
for us to join a temple. During that year, I realized how important Judaism
actually was to me. I realized that I knew nothing about one of the key things
that set me apart from most of my Christian classmates, and that by not knowing
I was missing something. I became interested in my religion, and wanted to
learn about it. It was because of me that we finally joined Loudoun Jewish
Congregation.
I became more religious than my parents expected I would become.
I began wearing the Star of David around my neck all the time, and asked
to attend services. I took my dislike for pork and shellfish and thought
it of keeping partially kosher, though I could never follow all the laws
of kashrut.
When I began attending religious school again, I soaked up all
I could. I paid particular attention in Judaic studies. I was probably the
most verbal in my class, and the only one who actually cared.
I had forgotten how to read Hebrew in the year that I was out
of religious school, and worked to get the hang of it again, though I never
quite got it. When we lead a service in the beginning of the year, I lead
the English parts while my classmates dealt with the Hebrew. By our second
service, I had learned enough Hebrew to do the prayers with my classmates.
I was proud of myself because not only could I read the prayers, but I could
also chant them, a thing that I had never mastered in earlier years. I expected
to be able to lead the Hebrew with the rest of my class and the class below
ours.
On March second, the principal of the LJC religious school
called my mother with bad news. She had found out shortly after we had joined
the temple that my mother had grown up Catholic and never converted to Judaism.
That afternoon, the principal told my mother that the religion of a child
runs through the mother. Because my mother was not Jewish, neither was I.
Not being Jewish caused many problems for me. Without being
Jewish, I couldn’t read certain prayers. I would not be allowed to have a
Bat Mitzvah. The problem on hand when she called was the fact that I could
not lead the Hebrew part of the service with the rest of my class.
I had two courses of action that I could take. I could accept
the fact that I was not Jewish and live with having limits to my religion,
or I could convert. I chose to convert. I thought it out, and realized that
I could not live with them limiting me from doing what I felt I should be
able to do.
On the ninth, my parents and I went to Temple Beth Emit to speak
to the rabbi about converting. Because I had grown up with a Jewish background,
the rabbi would make it easy on me. He did not have me study at all, though
he recommended that I read I few books. To convert, I would not have to go
against a panel and answer questions about Judaism. All I would have to do
is go to the mikvah.
The mikvah is a ritual bath. The Orthodox Jews use it for many
different things, but for my purpose it would be how I would physically convert.
The mikvah is a big thing like a pool, only without the chlorine. The water
in it comes from a natural source, like rain. In order to convert, a person
has to go into it and say some prayers. To convert, a person has to go into
the mikvah and pray naked.
This may not be a problem to most people, but it is to me. I
am extremely modest, and have just recently reached the point where I can
look at myself in the mirror when I am without clothes on. Here I was, faced
with the issue of a lifetime. Could I go against my fear and convert? Of
course, the rabbi offered me another choice. He offered to give me the prayers
and have me recite them in the ocean, as he sometimes does for children.
I chose not to take that option. Though I was still a child by regular standards,
in Jewish eyes I was an adult.
I weighed my options that night, thinking the whole issue out
thoroughly. I really wanted everyone to see me as Jewish as I see myself,
which meant dealing with nakedness. On the other hand, my nakedness issue
was a big one. It would not easily be overcome. In the end, I chose to go
with the mikvah. I would convert and show everyone that I am Debra Rose Singer,
a Jewish girl.
We have had two meetings with the rabbi since that night when
I chose to face my fear. We have a date set for the mikvah now. On June seventeenth,
I face a pool of water, a few prayers, and nakedness. I will work to defeat
my fear, but even if I don’t I will go through with the conversion. I can
overcome it. I have set my mind to converting, and nothing will stop me.
I realize now that I am stronger than I had thought. I can go
for a goal and overcome obstacles that are in my way. I won’t let anything
stop me. In this case there are two such sets. My first goal is to be Jewish,
and the obstacle is the fact that my mother isn’t. The second goal is to
convert, and the obstacle is my fear of nakedness. Both I am overcoming.
In all ways, I will come out of this a winner.