Hiding in Plain Sight

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Remember the scene in Keeping the Faith where Ben Stiller as Rabbi Jake and Ed Norton as Father Brian have an exchange about Jake’s rabbi hero-card collection? Seeing that, I thought “Ah! There are others out there like me!” 

As the shabbaton weekend approached, I ‘d get more excited and anxious. You see, as an elementary school student at the hebrew day school I attended, I always felt like I was wearing a mask. We were reform Jews, but my parents wanted me to get a good foundation in the Judaic texts. Though the school was ‘modern’ the non-secular classes were taught by young ultra-orthodox men and women who commuted to NJ from Brooklyn, which is why we went to Borough Park for the annual shabbaton.

Being non-observant was my secret. None of my friends knew or, at the least we never talked about it and, aside from when I ducked as we drove by people walking to synagogue on Shabbat, I don’t think my parents ever considered that I was hiding who I was. At school, I davened twice a day. I came in second in the annual Bracha (blessing) Bee which remains a sore point to this day. And yes, I was extremely proud of the dozens of rebbe cards that I had earned from high marks. I hid in plain sight.

One weekend a year, I’d get on the school bus to Borough Park where I’d stay with a family. Nervous about the protocol, I’d wonder if the lights would be on timers or if this family would cut the toilet paper into squares before dark. I’d mostly pray that I wouldn’t mess up. On Sunday afternoon, I’d get back on the bus feeling exhilarated and exhausted and would collapse as soon as I walked through my front door. 

The burden of my assumed role was of my own making. No one was hurt or compromised or even cared. Most importantly, I could take it or leave it, which I did -- along with my rebbe collection --  in seventh grade. We all play roles to varying degrees and I fully realize how fortunate I am not to have to hide or assume a role that I don’t want to play. It’s a gift to be able to be myself. What’s the bracha for that?

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His Words to Live By