This week, the Facebook Group, “If you were a little girl in the 70’s” has been making its way around my “Friends’” pages. Other than making one feel a touch nostalgic with its list of all things popular in the 70’s from Mrs. Beasley dolls, The Love Boat TV series, banana bicycle seats and even Dorothy Hamill haircuts, this list -coupled with an upcoming birthday- reminds me that though it was a lovely era in which to be a child, I wouldn’t want to return to it. And, I’m glad I am not raising my own children in it. The 70’s contained within it some exciting times of ‘coming out’ for women. This was the decade of among other achievements, Title IX, Roe vs. Wade, the opening of US Military Academies to women, the Equal Credit Opportunity Act, and the Women’s Educational Equity Act. And, as I’ve expressed from this bema before on more than one occasion, I am so grateful for the efforts of the women and men of that generation that worked to make such important changes from which my and later generations benefit. But that being said, it was also a time when those little girls who were raised then were given extremely conflicting messages. It was okay to play with the GI Joe at my neighbor’s house (he was a boy, by the way), but no one would dare buy a girl any male doll besides Barbie’s slick and equally perfect sidekick, Ken. We were taught to think beyond traditionally female careers – the work place was opening to us - ‘you don’t have to be a teacher like your mother and grandmother before you,’ we were told. Marlo Thomas, Mel Brooks, and Alan Alda in their Free to Be You and Me collection taught us that we didn’t need to follow convention – girls can like fire engines, and boys can like dolls, yet in the next breath most of our parents warned us girls not to forget to wear the little white gloves, cross your ankles, act lady-like and demure in public, and most importantly do as you are told. ‘Boys are made of snips & snails and puppy dog tails, while girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice” still rang true as a mantra. Perhaps it still does today; equity among the sexes is extremely difficult to establish even with the best of intentions.
Parashat Tazria opens with a difficult passage regarding childbirth against which the feminist in me wants to rail against. That is used to want to rail against. That was the feminist who was raised in this hot bed of conflicting messages that characterized the 70’s, that was the feminist who had yet to experience first-hand the full reality of childbirth and early parenting. That was the feminist who saw a hierarchy of inequality in all aspects of unequal expectations and roles. To be fair to myself and to others who like myself may seem reactive, those differing expectations have historically been used to limit women often unfairly; and thus, many of us do remain a bit defensive when faced with such a text that on its surface smacks of disrespect. Fortunately, our relationship with Torah changes as we age; and, if we allow ourselves to be open to study year after year, we can experience the blessing of our own notions being challenged again and again. The beauty of our Torah cycle.
This passage is messy. Childbirth is messy; and fair or unfair it is not in any way a gender equitable endeavor -- despite the popular tendency a few years back for couples to announce, ‘we’re pregnant!’ Absurdity. ‘We’ may be expecting a child, but no man has, to my knowledge outside of the imagination of Hollywood, experienced pregnancy and childbirth. The opening passage of Tazria gets to the heart of this reality – that childbirth, the primary, particularly in the biblical period, method of becoming a parent, is not at all an Equal Rights Experience. Perhaps this is why still in the 21st century many if not most couples still have a tough time creating an equitable division of labor when it comes to home and family despite the fact that so many households are supported by two-careers outside the home.
Tazria demands a period of separation for either 33 or 66 days after childbirth depending on the gender of the child, a separation that is often read as punishment due to the priestly hand’s language of t’meiah and t’hara - words that stretch the English capacity for adequate translation - and the requirement of a ritual offering at the end of these days of separation. Ritually impure and pure are the best we can do, perhaps, but sadly these phrases are loaded with such subjective qualitative connotations in english that to translate them may skew the intent of the text. In short, t’meiah and t’hara are ritual categories. In this case, the state of t’meiah ensured a period of healing for the mother and initial bonding between mother and infant. Yes, in the biblical period the after-birth blood flow was most surely feared and thus deemed contaminating; yet, the ritual category of t’meiah can be understood as a means of protecting this time of healing, shielding the mom from other responsibilities. During this period the new mother was released from all sacred and marital obligations – this state of t’meiah set a boundary around her allowing her much needed emotional and physical space.
Today too, it is standard ‘ritual’ procedure to have a period of separation after childbirth (we call it maternity leave) and to then subsequently visit our medical priests, if you will, during the early weeks after childbirth to make sure that mom’s bleeding has ceased, healing has progressed appropriately, and that child is thriving. We have privatized much of the affair, but for many, if not most, women, these early medical visits are the first significant ventures out into the world after childbirth. Unfortunately we’ve privatized the affair so significantly that many women today feel isolated as opposed to feeling supported by the rituals of our community. This labeling of the period following childbirth as t’meiah recognizes an important reality of our modern society namely that in our attempt to make all things equal between men and women, we often forget that childbirth is an awesome physical and emotional feat for the mom, one that requires a very different period of recovery and healing than is required of the dad.
Understanding the text in this manner compels us to ask an important question: why the period of t’meiah was reduced, cut in half, for the birth of a boy? Certainly gender doesn’t impact the amount of time a woman needs to heal and adjust to the new addition. Rabbi Helaine Ettinger, in her thoughts on this portion published in The Women’s Torah Commentary published in 2000 (the Jewish Lights volume not our newest WRJ work), notices that there are two ritual processes that take place after childbirth. The first was gender specific and focused on the need to differentiate between the sexes. On the 8th day, the boy was circumcised which ended the initial period of the mom’s t’meiah. The second ritual was solely about the mom’s relationship to God. Regardless of gender, she shall bring two offerings: an olah and a chatah to the priest at the Tent of Meeting these offerings formal marked the conclusion of her maternity leave and could participate fully in society.
Gender matters. We know this truth – the unfinished work of the 1960’s and 70’s has taught us this well. Rabbi Ettinger notes that the ceremony of circumcision required on the 8th day for boys may have been as much about acknowledging this truth – publically marking the child’s maleness and formally allowing the important processes of father-son bonding that would have been critical in the ancient world where gender roles were so definitive. The period of t’meiah for the mom in the case of the birth of a boy is shortened in order to allow the father to enter. Notably, according to Jewish law, it is incumbent upon the father to circumcise his own son and bring him into the covenant, a task that still today is formally and ritually delegated to the mohel as part of the ceremony. According to such an understanding, there is no need for such a separation ritual between mother and daughter. There the bond had already begun and it was thus allowed to continue on its own; there was no need for the interruption of ceremony.
Today there is (and should continue to be) opportunity for both mothers and fathers to be intimately involved in the rearing of both sons and daughters. While gender matters, we have learned that we need not fall victim to assumptions about gender roles based on the past. One of the ways liberal Jews challenge gender role assumptions is to encourage welcoming ceremonies for all Jewish children, male and female. Male and female are different – but both are worthy of celebration, both are worthy of the full involvement of both parents in their rearing, and both are worthy of a public affirmation of their presence in the community and their relationship with God. Just as both young women and men are called to Torah to mark their coming of age in Jewish tradition as will Morgan tomorrow morning.
Ken y’hi ratzon.
No comments:
Post a Comment