I recently finished reading Mystics, Mavericks, and Merrymakers by Stephanie Wellen Levine, a student of the well-known feminist psychology scholar Carol Gilligan. The is an participant-observer field study of teenage Lubavitcher girls. Not only is it a well done study from an academic viewpoint, but it challenges deeply held stereotypes (including my own) of Hasidic women.
Lubavitch, in short, is an ultra-Orthodox group with two goals -- too adhere as closely as possible to the strictest interpretation of the 613 Commandments and to convince all other Jews to do the same. Like other ultra-Orthodox Jews, Lubavitchers live according to strictly separated gender roles and women are barred from any public religious role. When thinking of the role of women in fundamentalist religions, it is normally quite repressive. From the outside, it seems the same for Lubavitcher girls.
However, reading the case studies of these girls, Levine reveals how strong, both in personality and thought, these girls are. They are uninhibited in their sense of self and proud of their personal and religious identity. They have a powerful "voice". Carol Gilligan coined the term, and her studies show how girls often lose this voice, this sense of identity and strength in self, as they enter adolescence. But these Lubavitcher girls Levine studied did not. Even at 17 on the cusp of getting married, they still had a voice.
At first, this amazed me, that despite such a constrictive society, these girls were strong, happy, and had chutzpah. Levine credits it with the strictly single-sex environment in which the girls live - the only contact with males are immediate family members. Otherwise, school, shul, and social life are all separate. Levine also believes that Hasidic theology of the power of every Jewish person to bring holiness into this world by everyday acts is empowering to these girls. But what about when they marry, when they are slaving over a Shabbat stove and popping out a new little Lubavitcher every year? Perhaps the voice disappears under a pile of dishes and diapers?
But then I thought of the Lubavitch women I have known. The first I knew well I met when we were both posted in Bogotá, Colombia -- me with the US Embassy, her with the Chabad House established to grab those wayward Colombian Jews. She adhered to all the rules and regulations of ultra-Orthodoxy. She wore skirts to her ankles and a wig (although the long curly locks of her sheitl made my hair look like the fake). She fought against taking a cab to the the hospital when she was in labor with her second son since it was Shabbat. She was able to cook for a crowd of 30 or more every Saturday afternoon. Yet she was fun, lively, intelligent, and most of all, chutzpadik. She had an amazing sense of humor and filled the room the moment she walked in. This was despite living far away from anything familiar or comfortable with two kids, a tiny apartment, and very little Spanish -- all at the tender age of 23. I thought she was an anomaly -- a rebel amongst Lubavitch women, perhaps a daredevil willing to leave, perhaps even run away, from her family
As I met other Lubavitcher women, I realized she was not. While my friend is a particularly lively personality, there were many others I met and connected with. They were smart, opinionated, and, yes, strong. I met many of them through sending my daughters to the Lubavitcher summer camp near me. This past summer, I spent more time with the counselors, all the same age of the girls Levine studied (perhaps she didn't need to move to Crown Heights for a year, she could have just gone to camp....) And yes, they were indeed rowdy, funny, boisterous, and strong.
So... this is the part where we get back to me (since blog posts are an ego trip after all). Do I want to send my girls back to the Lubavitcher camp? Before my older one reached the age of 8, it wasn't a difficult choice. The boys and girls were together and there wasn't much indoctrination except learning a few songs calling for Moshiach Now! (which in a three year old's lisp, is quite hilarious to listen to). But at 3rd grade, the boys and girls are separated, the girls are encouraged to wear skirts and have more "female oriented" activities like cooking. I'm proud of my older daughter's interest in science, sports, math, and other non-girly things (as well as plenty of girly things) and half of her fiends are boys. I didn't think it healthy for her to be separated by her gender, which to me, implied a fear of sexuality inappropriate in an 8 year old, especially my one who didn't know what "sexy" meant, and told me that she didn't care to know.
But now, I am contemplating sending her and her younger sister back. At first, it was just a a matter of money and convenience -- the Chabad camp is super-cheap (what can I say, I'm willing to trade of brainwashing for saving bucks?) and is still open when all the other camps have closed up shop in August. But now, I've read this book and I'm reminded of two things. One, is these entertaining, strong Orthodox women I've know. But two, is the time I wasted while at Barnard College -- a single sex institution (albeit in a coed university) that I left after two years, partially because it was single sex. It was too late for me -- I had already lost my voice and cared more about who the man in my life was than who I was.
I've always said that I'm in favor of single sex schools -- middle schools, that is. I don't think that's coming to my city any time soon, and the private ones are too expensive and snotty. Perhaps sending my daughter to the single sex environment of a camp isn't a bad thing. As long as it is empowering, not overly feminizing. I thought that was the problem with the way Lubavitcher women thought and treated their girls. But now I wonder if my daughter might end up all the stronger for spending some time with these females. They're strong, they're proud, and they have a nice loud, Jewish voice. Right now, so does my daughter and I don't want her to lose it.
