Dear Mommy,
13 years ago I had a conversation with my mom and dad about what I should write for my college essay. It had to be unique. it had to be captivating. it had to be authentic. At that time in my life, I hated to write. Social media was brand new and you certainly were not writing novels or expressing your deepest concern to millions or even 20 people across the internet. Maybe a friend took over your account and said, "I smell like poopy farts" (this was a real myspace post once upon a time)... or "I love my sisters the mostest" was also another true to form post. But in all honesty, I had never really been great with my words, certainly was never praised for writing a good essay in English class, and at the time, was not great at self expression or using writing as a way for expression of my emotional wellbeing.
So the three of us sat down for one of many dreaded conversations as a junior in high school about college, and began to narrow down my options for college essays. Well, as the common app had it back then, I could write one essay and use it for almost all of the 13 schools I had applied to! how great was that. The topic decided upon, what it's like to grow up as a Rabbi's daughter. Now my outlook on this topic has certainly changed and gone in waves over the years, and it will most definitely be different than my two sisters, but it is a real topic and living life in front of the entire community is an incredibly unique experience. So a few months ago, when a family friend asked for this topic, I had to spend some time thinking about the best way for me to answer. And how I could answer this topic fairly, openly, and without judgement or ramifications.
Life as a Rabbi's daughter was certainly special and unique. Growing up as an RK meant I missed out on a lot of social events, Friday night football games, Saturday mall dates, and anything that started before Shabbat was over. But there were also things I loved about having to keep shabbat. We were all home together Friday night. We had special walks to Shul getting grilled as kids on our multiplication and division facts. From math facts as kids, to SAT topics as young adults, these walks were more than 15 minute intervals from point A to B. They were bonding opportunities. As sisters we got to goof off or have a make up talk after a fight. We shared secrets and talked about our parents who were usually walking right in front of or right behind us. Or as we got older, we left them in Shul as we would rush back to our pool or back to bed. But these also served as bonding time between my parents and myself. We had conversations one on one diving into school topics, the news, relationships, and or simply small talk and laughs.
As with everything else in my life I have had to learn how to find the balance, so too, I had to learn and understand the compromise that came with having a parent who was not only dedicated, but committed to helping his community in every way possible. This meant at a young age learning how to share my dad with other kids, other parents, family friends, or people I didn't even know. Their needs were met by a man who so firmly believed in helping those around him, trying to alleviate their pain as best as he could, being the best listener and ear for anyone who needed it, but that also meant, at times, I had to learn that my Dad wouldn't be around.
Over the years, my association with being an RK and what that has meant for me has changed. Living life in the Dallas community public eye, people knowing you and watching your every move (even at times when you had no idea who they were), going out to eat and constantly running into congregants or community members...this was life and I learned to not only accept it, but appreciate it for all that it's worth.
My mom shared a special passion and level of commitment to our community along with my dad. Looking back now, I wouldn't change my life. The community that my parents built has given me stability, a sense of belonging, and people from all over that I can turn to. As an adult, I have learned how to create, nurture, and develop my own relationships within our community. But as the child of two involved community leaders, the label will always be there. And I am not only comfortable, but I am incredibly proud of that label. I love who my parents are/(were), and the values and life lessons that I have learned from them will carry with me forever.
So while yes, growing up life was difficult, public, at times compromising, but then again, whose wasn't? I lived in a bubble. And now I can see the bigger picture. I am fortunate. I have been blessed. And for that, I am forever grateful.
Thank you as always for reading and following along my journey. Sending so much love from Tel Aviv around this world. We certainly need it. Come say hi next time you find yourself in the holy land.
xoxo
Jordana
Comments