Musings #100
February 16, 2005
The 7th of Adar Alef
I Don’t Want To Say This,
But…
This is really hard and traumatic to say, but could the “Chareidim” be right in their attitude towards Zionism and the State of Israel? It’s starting to seem like Zionism is a lot like socialism, great in theory but horrific in practice.
I’m no expert in Chareidi rationale and philosophy. It has never interested me, never attracted me. What interests me now is just their attitude towards Zionism. Many of us who are religious Zionists in our practice and patriotism are feeling raped and plundered. First I was going to write, “stabbed in the back,” but it’s not like that at all. When my timing is bad and I catch a glimpse of the evening TV news, it’s more like a gang rape. You’d think that the greatest danger to Israel and to world peace is the Israeli “yemin hakitzoni,” the “extreme right wing.” And then you see teenagers being beaten and dragged by hefty police. Night after night, the same clips.
And then they put the same interview with the same husky, zaftig policewoman in a hospital bed, from where she booms, in a strong voice how some “extreme right wing demonstrator” kicked her in the chest. The TV announcer stresses how seriously injured she is, but her full, strong voice makes that hard to believe.
If you were wondering why all those terrorists are being released it’s to make room for the real dangers to society: fifteen-year-old kids. Yes, over a dozen high school students, some as young as fifteen, in the tenth grade, girls, yes; girls were imprisoned for a number of days. Some may have been even younger, but I know for a fact that there were fifteen-year-old girls locked in jail.
The EXPULSION Law includes draconian punishments, jail terms for those who actively protest or try to return to their homes, gardens, farms and businesses. This law was written by the same people who declared illegal and immoral all political activity by followers of Meir Kahane, who proposed a transfer of Arabs. Maybe I’m stupid, but I just don’t understand why it’s immoral to “transfer” Arabs, but it’s perfectly fine, and immoral to protest, the “transfer,” evacuation of Jews from their homes.
If I’m already admitting things, I’ll be honest and say that I never was a fan or follower of Rabbi Kahane, nor of his murdered son, but the first I ever heard of democracy not being consistent with Judaism is from something he wrote. Now, as you know, I have written numerous times of the danger of democracy. There are things that are too essential to be the subject for polls. And the majority is not always right.
The past few evenings when I viewed our youth, our future, being pummeled, pushed, shoved and beaten by the police, I felt, physically felt, their patriotism to the state being smashed to smithereens. It was a horrible sight, and the verbal incitement against them and us by the TV announcers was terrifying.
They announced, warned, reminded the viewers, over and over ad nauseum that today’s atmosphere is just like before Rabin’s assassination. Considering all of the questions concerning the involvement of the Shabak (Israeli secret police) and its star operator, Avishai Raviv, it makes me dread what they have planned for us now. For those who need a reminder of that story, here’s a link from Israel’s Media Watch that will give a comprehensive explanation. http://www.geocities.com/CapitolHill/2527/listraviv.htm
Now, back to Chareidim and Zionism. From my understanding, they look at The State of Israel as just another foreign government. They take what they can get from it and obey whatever laws they consider relevant. Considering how the government is treating us, maybe we should re-think our relationship with the state. That doesn’t make us disloyal, just less “enthusiastic.”
We must concentrate on our primary belief and loyalty to G-d, the Torah and settling our Land.
Batya Medad, Shiloh
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Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
link to this, please
Please link to this, it was a "draft," and until I took care of it, it missed the screen. It's a parent's reaction to Dovrat.
http://shilohmusings.blogspot.com/2005/02/other-dovrat-reactions-parents-point.html
http://shilohmusings.blogspot.com/2005/02/other-dovrat-reactions-parents-point.html
Monday, February 14, 2005
any other favorites?
If you have any others to recommend, please let me know. You can link to my archives from the sidebar, but many were written long before I started blogging.
And I have to decide what to do with Baile Rochel. She's itching to get out, unless I just let her join me-ander.
And I have to decide what to do with Baile Rochel. She's itching to get out, unless I just let her join me-ander.
Celebrating 100! Not to be forgotten, #42
Musings #42
March 30, 2004
Let Them Be Afraid Of Us!
It’s really beginning to get to me. Every time Israel finally does something right and kills a terrorist, the media, the security forces and government, and now even ordinary citizens go into a panic.
For instance, last week we killed a vicious, unrepentant terrorist, the man behind the murders of many innocent Israelis, and instead of saying: “May that be a lesson to you, all of you who even think of harming us, we’ll get you, too!!!!” What do the nebbichs do? They panic! In the media all we heard was the wailing of this country’s “leaders:” “Oy, yoy yoy, now they’re really going to get us. They’ll take it out on us in revenge. Gevalt.” Gevalt is right! People were terrified. This is spookier than “The Twilight Zone.”
There’s only one way to deal with a bully. Never show fear. Recently I’ve been humming and singing to myself, one of my favorite songs from my childhood.
“I Whistle a Happy Tune”
Music: Richard Rodgers
Lyrics: Oscar Hammerstein II
“Whenever I feel afraid
I hold my head erect
And whistle a happy tune
So no one will suspect
I'm Afraid.
…. The result of this deception
Is very strange to tell
For when I fool the people I fear
I fool myself as well! …
The happiness in the tune
Convinces me that I'm not afraid. …
You may be as brave
As you make believe you are”
To win this war, we have to make a very important decision, that we want to win it, and we want to totally defeat the Arab terrorists. And as the fitness instructor, who trained one of my sons before he went into the army, always says: “HaKol b’rosh.” “It’s all in the mind.”
They should be afraid of us!!
Batya Medad, Shiloh
March 30, 2004
Let Them Be Afraid Of Us!
It’s really beginning to get to me. Every time Israel finally does something right and kills a terrorist, the media, the security forces and government, and now even ordinary citizens go into a panic.
For instance, last week we killed a vicious, unrepentant terrorist, the man behind the murders of many innocent Israelis, and instead of saying: “May that be a lesson to you, all of you who even think of harming us, we’ll get you, too!!!!” What do the nebbichs do? They panic! In the media all we heard was the wailing of this country’s “leaders:” “Oy, yoy yoy, now they’re really going to get us. They’ll take it out on us in revenge. Gevalt.” Gevalt is right! People were terrified. This is spookier than “The Twilight Zone.”
There’s only one way to deal with a bully. Never show fear. Recently I’ve been humming and singing to myself, one of my favorite songs from my childhood.
“I Whistle a Happy Tune”
Music: Richard Rodgers
Lyrics: Oscar Hammerstein II
“Whenever I feel afraid
I hold my head erect
And whistle a happy tune
So no one will suspect
I'm Afraid.
…. The result of this deception
Is very strange to tell
For when I fool the people I fear
I fool myself as well! …
The happiness in the tune
Convinces me that I'm not afraid. …
You may be as brave
As you make believe you are”
To win this war, we have to make a very important decision, that we want to win it, and we want to totally defeat the Arab terrorists. And as the fitness instructor, who trained one of my sons before he went into the army, always says: “HaKol b’rosh.” “It’s all in the mind.”
They should be afraid of us!!
Batya Medad, Shiloh
Celebrating 100! From just over a year ago #32
Musings #32
January 30, 2004
All Face Jerusalem
Recently I find myself waiting at roadsides and junctions just before the sun begins to hide under the horizon. I notice others, who should be eagerly and alertly scanning all passing cars. Instead, regardless of which direction they need to travel, whether north, south, east or west, they all face Jerusalem.
They ignore the passing cars and concentrate on their prayers in the final moments of the day when a Jew can pray Mincha. It is better to pray in a minyan, a quorum of ten, but if the choice is a solitary prayer on the roadside, or none at all, one should just pray where one is.
Jews are commanded to pray three times a day, Shacharit in the morning, Mincha in the afternoon and Arvit (Ma’ariv) in the evening. The Jewish day is divided. The prayers must be said in their proper time; if one is inadvertently missed, the following is to be doubled.
Judaism is both separation and synthesis. Our days are not only divided by a sun-powered clock, but there are different types of days, Kodesh and Chol, Shabbat and the weekdays. In addition to our days, our food is divided into categories: meat, dairy, parve (neutral, can be eaten with either meat or dairy,) and the forbidden. At times the material and physical pleasures are commanded, and at other times they are forbidden. We feast and we fast, all at times commanded by Jewish Law. There are blessings for before eating and after eating. There is even a prayer to be said after urinating and defecating. It reminds us that these systems are essential for life, and we must thank G-d that they function.
Judaism recognizes human frailty, and it commands us to repent and begin anew. The Messiah, Mashiach ben David, is to be descended from a long line of great people who admitted their mistakes, learned from them and went on to better things. None of us is perfect. We all have our roles. If we find ourselves on the wrong path, we must stop, admit our mistake and take the right one. We are responsible for our lives.
As the pale, afternoon sun begins to metamorphose into brilliant, luminous orange, their prayers are finished, and they look for a ride.
Batya Medad, Shiloh
January 30, 2004
All Face Jerusalem
Recently I find myself waiting at roadsides and junctions just before the sun begins to hide under the horizon. I notice others, who should be eagerly and alertly scanning all passing cars. Instead, regardless of which direction they need to travel, whether north, south, east or west, they all face Jerusalem.
They ignore the passing cars and concentrate on their prayers in the final moments of the day when a Jew can pray Mincha. It is better to pray in a minyan, a quorum of ten, but if the choice is a solitary prayer on the roadside, or none at all, one should just pray where one is.
Jews are commanded to pray three times a day, Shacharit in the morning, Mincha in the afternoon and Arvit (Ma’ariv) in the evening. The Jewish day is divided. The prayers must be said in their proper time; if one is inadvertently missed, the following is to be doubled.
Judaism is both separation and synthesis. Our days are not only divided by a sun-powered clock, but there are different types of days, Kodesh and Chol, Shabbat and the weekdays. In addition to our days, our food is divided into categories: meat, dairy, parve (neutral, can be eaten with either meat or dairy,) and the forbidden. At times the material and physical pleasures are commanded, and at other times they are forbidden. We feast and we fast, all at times commanded by Jewish Law. There are blessings for before eating and after eating. There is even a prayer to be said after urinating and defecating. It reminds us that these systems are essential for life, and we must thank G-d that they function.
Judaism recognizes human frailty, and it commands us to repent and begin anew. The Messiah, Mashiach ben David, is to be descended from a long line of great people who admitted their mistakes, learned from them and went on to better things. None of us is perfect. We all have our roles. If we find ourselves on the wrong path, we must stop, admit our mistake and take the right one. We are responsible for our lives.
As the pale, afternoon sun begins to metamorphose into brilliant, luminous orange, their prayers are finished, and they look for a ride.
Batya Medad, Shiloh
Celebrating 100! Short, sweet and probably forgotten, #30
Musings #30
January 18, 2004
It All Depends on Where You’re Sitting
I overheard my husband ask our local rabbi something. Should he “bensch gomel,” the prayer thanking G-d for surviving a dangerous situation, in the name of someone, who was almost in a car accident. The rabbi replied that it if she really felt endangered, then she should say it herself. After my husband finished, I approached the rabbi, “But Rabbi, a few years ago, when I was sitting in the back seat, and an Arab taxi rammed into it, certainly, definitely dangerous, you told me that I should not ‘bensch gomel.’ You said: ‘I was driving, and I didn’t feel that we were in any danger.’”
Behind the steering wheel, the rabbi felt safe, in control. My neighbors and I in the back seat, though unharmed, were shaken in more ways than one. I was sitting next to the young man who had killed the terrorist who had run me over only a couple of years earlier.
When we look at the same thing, we all see something else. Living here in Shiloh, I feel peaceful and calm. I enjoy the views of the hills, the sunrise over Shvut Rachel to the east of us, my neighbors’ gardens and the wonderful people who share all of that and more with me. I’m on the roads everyday, in almost any vehicle offering me a ride. I felt safest when we marched to Jerusalem, the intimacy with the Land gave a strength from a different dimension.
As I travel the road of Jewish history, I am calm and confident, like my rabbi was during that accident, because it all depends on where you’re sitting.
Batya Medad, Shiloh
January 18, 2004
It All Depends on Where You’re Sitting
I overheard my husband ask our local rabbi something. Should he “bensch gomel,” the prayer thanking G-d for surviving a dangerous situation, in the name of someone, who was almost in a car accident. The rabbi replied that it if she really felt endangered, then she should say it herself. After my husband finished, I approached the rabbi, “But Rabbi, a few years ago, when I was sitting in the back seat, and an Arab taxi rammed into it, certainly, definitely dangerous, you told me that I should not ‘bensch gomel.’ You said: ‘I was driving, and I didn’t feel that we were in any danger.’”
Behind the steering wheel, the rabbi felt safe, in control. My neighbors and I in the back seat, though unharmed, were shaken in more ways than one. I was sitting next to the young man who had killed the terrorist who had run me over only a couple of years earlier.
When we look at the same thing, we all see something else. Living here in Shiloh, I feel peaceful and calm. I enjoy the views of the hills, the sunrise over Shvut Rachel to the east of us, my neighbors’ gardens and the wonderful people who share all of that and more with me. I’m on the roads everyday, in almost any vehicle offering me a ride. I felt safest when we marched to Jerusalem, the intimacy with the Land gave a strength from a different dimension.
As I travel the road of Jewish history, I am calm and confident, like my rabbi was during that accident, because it all depends on where you’re sitting.
Batya Medad, Shiloh
Celebrating 100! Another oldie, #28
Musings #28
January 9, 2004
The Same Choreography
The other day, after leaving my house, walking to the gate, I saw a neighbor at work. She was shepherding the toddlers she takes care of. Her eyes were glancing in all directions, holding their hands, keeping her charges going in the right direction, avoiding obstacles and accidents.
Later that evening, at a wedding, I observed the same choreography as an old friend shepherded her mother and mother-in-law at a wedding.
A close friend, eighty years young, is moving to an “old age home” for the “independent living.” She’s doing it while she’s still able, because once one is too “feeble” or “tired” to move independently, one is stuck. Running a home is too difficult, but moving is even more so. My “sandwich” friends and I discuss the dilemma frequently. Many of our parents are still in the homes in which we were raised, and they can’t imagine how they could ever sort through their lifetime of possessions in order to move to smaller quarters. We’ll inherit them, I guess. In another two, three decades, will our children and their friends be having the same discussions?
“Senior” Time, and the Living’s Expensive…
apologies to George Gershwin
“Old age homes,” or whatever you want to call them are big business in Israel, especially the ones that are more like “senior hotels.” For the price of a modest apartment in a good neighborhood, one can buy a room and a half in one of those luxurious buildings. Furnish it, then pay a good portion of your monthly pension for “services/maintenance,” and you can cook for yourself in your kitchenette.
Not long ago, I read that the kibbutzim are getting into the business. They have the facilities for their members, and outsiders pay enough to cover the expenses of all. Will the yishuvim open facilities, too?
“I’ve got rhythm..”
When I was a little girl we went to Jones Beach, Long Island, New York a few times each summer. My father taught me how to jump with the waves. As the wave approaches, you can feel the water recede. Bend your knees and prepare to jump as you find yourself in the rising water. Properly timed, no matter how high the wave, your head is always safely above water. As the wave breaks on the beach, your feet have securely returned to the wet sand of the ocean.
Jump with the waves, the rhythms of life.
Batya Medad, Shiloh
January 9, 2004
The Same Choreography
The other day, after leaving my house, walking to the gate, I saw a neighbor at work. She was shepherding the toddlers she takes care of. Her eyes were glancing in all directions, holding their hands, keeping her charges going in the right direction, avoiding obstacles and accidents.
Later that evening, at a wedding, I observed the same choreography as an old friend shepherded her mother and mother-in-law at a wedding.
A close friend, eighty years young, is moving to an “old age home” for the “independent living.” She’s doing it while she’s still able, because once one is too “feeble” or “tired” to move independently, one is stuck. Running a home is too difficult, but moving is even more so. My “sandwich” friends and I discuss the dilemma frequently. Many of our parents are still in the homes in which we were raised, and they can’t imagine how they could ever sort through their lifetime of possessions in order to move to smaller quarters. We’ll inherit them, I guess. In another two, three decades, will our children and their friends be having the same discussions?
“Senior” Time, and the Living’s Expensive…
apologies to George Gershwin
“Old age homes,” or whatever you want to call them are big business in Israel, especially the ones that are more like “senior hotels.” For the price of a modest apartment in a good neighborhood, one can buy a room and a half in one of those luxurious buildings. Furnish it, then pay a good portion of your monthly pension for “services/maintenance,” and you can cook for yourself in your kitchenette.
Not long ago, I read that the kibbutzim are getting into the business. They have the facilities for their members, and outsiders pay enough to cover the expenses of all. Will the yishuvim open facilities, too?
“I’ve got rhythm..”
When I was a little girl we went to Jones Beach, Long Island, New York a few times each summer. My father taught me how to jump with the waves. As the wave approaches, you can feel the water recede. Bend your knees and prepare to jump as you find yourself in the rising water. Properly timed, no matter how high the wave, your head is always safely above water. As the wave breaks on the beach, your feet have securely returned to the wet sand of the ocean.
Jump with the waves, the rhythms of life.
Batya Medad, Shiloh
Old musing, to celebrate the hundredth, #9
Musings #9
January 1, 2003
Que Sera, Sera…
The Future’s Not Ours To See
Last week, after my swim, while I was getting dressed in the ladies’ locker room, refrains from an old song drifted through a shower curtain. In a heavy Israeli accent:
“Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be will be,
The future’s not ours to see,
Que sera, sera,
Lalala, lalalala……”
Suddenly she noticed me, “You’re American; you must know all the words.”
And there we were in the ladies’ locker room of the swimming pool in Neve Yaakov, Jerusalem.
“When I was just a little girl,
I asked my mother what lies ahead…
…Will there be rainbows day after day,
Here’s what my mother said:
Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be will be,
The future’s not ours to see,
Que sera, sera…”
Just a few days later…
At three in the morning I finally walked through the doorway into my house after Noam’s funeral. Thousands of people spent their Saturday night accompanying Noam (HaYa”D) to his grave. The Hebrew word for funeral means “escort.” One goes to a funeral to escort, or accompany the dead person to his grave. When Noam’s father spoke, he addressed himself to Noam, stressing how many people had come from all over. Close family, distant relatives, friends, neighbors and more.
Noam, the sweet, fair-haired, gentle boy, born and raised in Shiloh, used his last seconds of life to save dozens of others. He rushed to the door connecting the kitchen to the dining hall, locked it and threw away the key. He was later found dead, with his eyes open, knowing that he had given them those few crucial minutes to escape from the Arab terrorists, who murdered him and the three others on kitchen duty.
When I was just a little boy
I asked my mother what will I be
Will I be handsome?
Will I be brave?
Will I live to marry?
January 1, 2003
Que Sera, Sera…
The Future’s Not Ours To See
Last week, after my swim, while I was getting dressed in the ladies’ locker room, refrains from an old song drifted through a shower curtain. In a heavy Israeli accent:
“Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be will be,
The future’s not ours to see,
Que sera, sera,
Lalala, lalalala……”
Suddenly she noticed me, “You’re American; you must know all the words.”
And there we were in the ladies’ locker room of the swimming pool in Neve Yaakov, Jerusalem.
“When I was just a little girl,
I asked my mother what lies ahead…
…Will there be rainbows day after day,
Here’s what my mother said:
Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be will be,
The future’s not ours to see,
Que sera, sera…”
Just a few days later…
At three in the morning I finally walked through the doorway into my house after Noam’s funeral. Thousands of people spent their Saturday night accompanying Noam (HaYa”D) to his grave. The Hebrew word for funeral means “escort.” One goes to a funeral to escort, or accompany the dead person to his grave. When Noam’s father spoke, he addressed himself to Noam, stressing how many people had come from all over. Close family, distant relatives, friends, neighbors and more.
Noam, the sweet, fair-haired, gentle boy, born and raised in Shiloh, used his last seconds of life to save dozens of others. He rushed to the door connecting the kitchen to the dining hall, locked it and threw away the key. He was later found dead, with his eyes open, knowing that he had given them those few crucial minutes to escape from the Arab terrorists, who murdered him and the three others on kitchen duty.
When I was just a little boy
I asked my mother what will I be
Will I be handsome?
Will I be brave?
Will I live to marry?
Friday, February 11, 2005
more ideal schools
A couple of people wrote to me giving their "ideal school," and here's one from a friend.
While you were reading the article I forwarded to you I was reading your article about education.
I would add more points to your suggestions I mostly agree with: Small classes, not more than 15 pupils in a class. Homework done in school with help if neccesary, so that children with a "social disadvantage," such as parents who can't help them for one reason or another or olim chadashim, can learn how to learn. And not too many long hours in school, because if the classes are small, much more can be done in fewer hours. And another thing, for a start children in the first grade should learn how to hold a pen or pencil. If you see many children, how they are doing that you can't be surprised that they a- get tired quickly and b- they can't even read their own writing. Secondly it is very recommendable that attention is given to spelling. I found out that children even in sixth grade make abominable mistakes in writing in Hebrew even easy words.
Grammar they should learn from fourth grade because I had to teach children who wanted to learn Enlish hebrew grammar first. And the last thing for the time being: the teacher should have to talk so much. children should work in class, doing exercises and repeating the learned material not once but several times till they get it. The teacher should be present to help them out and correct their exercises because again I have seen that most of the home work is not corrected. And don't forget; there should be order and discipline in the class rooms, otherwise learning and teaching is impossible.
While you were reading the article I forwarded to you I was reading your article about education.
I would add more points to your suggestions I mostly agree with: Small classes, not more than 15 pupils in a class. Homework done in school with help if neccesary, so that children with a "social disadvantage," such as parents who can't help them for one reason or another or olim chadashim, can learn how to learn. And not too many long hours in school, because if the classes are small, much more can be done in fewer hours. And another thing, for a start children in the first grade should learn how to hold a pen or pencil. If you see many children, how they are doing that you can't be surprised that they a- get tired quickly and b- they can't even read their own writing. Secondly it is very recommendable that attention is given to spelling. I found out that children even in sixth grade make abominable mistakes in writing in Hebrew even easy words.
Grammar they should learn from fourth grade because I had to teach children who wanted to learn Enlish hebrew grammar first. And the last thing for the time being: the teacher should have to talk so much. children should work in class, doing exercises and repeating the learned material not once but several times till they get it. The teacher should be present to help them out and correct their exercises because again I have seen that most of the home work is not corrected. And don't forget; there should be order and discipline in the class rooms, otherwise learning and teaching is impossible.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
other Dovrat reactions-a parent's point of view
Subject: dovrat - a parent's point of view
Hi all,
I am an English teacher but also a mum (like most of you, I guess), and the Dovrat report frightens me not only as a teacher but also as a mother. I do not want my daughter to stay at school for so long every day,especially not when she is young, I do not want her to eat sandwiches for lunch on her table in the classroom, I do not think that she will learn better at 15:00 every day - what do I want? I want her to come home for lunch (even if I won't be there all the time), to have some time off between school and the rest of her day, to have energy to do something else out of school during the afternoons, and to see her as much as possible.
SO WHAT DO I SUGGEST?
There is a petition starting on the Internet of parents who feel thesame and want to make a change -
http://www.geocities.com/doch_dovrat/
Please read it ( It is only in Hebrew), sign it and pass it on. Together we can make a difference
Sharon
Hi all,
I am an English teacher but also a mum (like most of you, I guess), and the Dovrat report frightens me not only as a teacher but also as a mother. I do not want my daughter to stay at school for so long every day,especially not when she is young, I do not want her to eat sandwiches for lunch on her table in the classroom, I do not think that she will learn better at 15:00 every day - what do I want? I want her to come home for lunch (even if I won't be there all the time), to have some time off between school and the rest of her day, to have energy to do something else out of school during the afternoons, and to see her as much as possible.
SO WHAT DO I SUGGEST?
There is a petition starting on the Internet of parents who feel thesame and want to make a change -
http://www.geocities.com/doch_dovrat/
Please read it ( It is only in Hebrew), sign it and pass it on. Together we can make a difference
Sharon
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