huh... I guess that's it!

Well, I survived. Today was my last day of work, and I am now officially unemployed. I somehow can't believe it's over, though. I've been thinking a lot about my time here, and found it especially cathartic to write my "reflection narrative" for my supervisors at the International Center. It ended up being 10 pages long! Here are some especially good excerpts (this is a LONG post):

What were your three greatest challenges from the Fellowship?

I think most of my challenges have to do with my specific Hillel, particularly stemming from the fact that they never really wanted a JCSC Fellow who would do engagement work on the campuses here, but rather cheap programming staff who would be able to fill in for everything the Jewish Student Life Coordinator could not handle. My greatest challenge, without a doubt, was this overwhelming feeling of constantly having to swim upstream, as I was caught between the expectations of the fellowship (which is what I signed up for) and very real expectations and consequences as envisioned by my supervisor. I felt permanently at odds with my entire staff as to what my work expectations ought to be and how I should go about doing my job. To be honest, after months of struggle and pushing and challenging, I felt it was easiest to simply buckle under the pressure (especially once news of the fellowship’s termination reached me), especially to avoid long “meetings” with my supervisor, whose extremely passive-aggressive management style involved a running tab of all the things I was doing wrong, or could have done better, and absolutely no positive feedback.
This brings me to challenge number two: my supervisor and I are not compatible, and I found him to be extremely difficult to work with. He provided absolutely no direction, but would simply say something like, “organize this program which we’ve done in the past.” If I had any questions, such as, “where did we do this program in the past?” or, “how many people should I expect for this program?” or, “who should I talk to about this?” or “how much should I budget for this program?” he would simply reply that he didn’t like to micro-manage and that I could figure that out by myself, or that I should just trust my instincts. Except— after the event or program was all over, he would say, “you should have called so and so,” or, “why didn’t you order pizzas ahead of time,” or, you spent too much money on this,” or a number of other comments that would have been extremely helpful to me while I was in the planning process. He never, not once in the entire school year, congratulated me on a successful program or thanked me for my hard work. Rather, he would attribute a successful program to the “ebb and tide” of involvement on campus, completely ignoring the many long hours I had spent advertising, putting up flyers, and calling students. Every time I attempted new programs that were intended to be low-barrier or high-impact, I was met with resistance. In particular, I had begun working on a program that involved the MSA and other Christian organizations—and although this program would have involved a lot of work and planning (on the part of me and my supervisor), it was absolutely possible to do. Instead of even trying, my supervisor simply said, “the board of directors won’t like it, so it’s not happening,” and would not allow me to pursue it at all. I was up against this kind of attitude on a daily basis.
Finally, I think that even disregarding my particular difficulties with the staff here, the JCSC Fellowship was not exactly suited for a Hillel that serves multi-campuses, medical and law schools, and commuter schools. I had to learn about several different campuses and try to figure out how I would possibly spend enough time on each campus to begin creating relationships with students there. Many of the staple programs and initiatives of other successful JCSC Fellows simply did not make sense here particularly because of time limitations—I really couldn’t successfully replicate or duplicate programs on different campuses. I faced different challenges than many other Hillels, and although I met other Fellows experiencing similar issues on their campuses through my Team phone calls, I found that I had to make my own path at every moment.

What are your constructive recommendations for your Hillel moving forward, specifically regarding engagement?

I have thought about this a lot during my tenure here, and I think that what it really comes down to is that you really have to buy into what you’re doing, and you have to actually do what you say you’re doing. My Hillel is simply not interested in engagement, as defined by the JCSC Fellowship and the International Center. It’s not that my Hillel doesn’t understand what this model is, or how it’s supposed to work, but rather that they do not see particular value in attempting to change the way this institution operates. Hillel has a fairly firm institutional memory, and generally speaking the kinds of programs we do here are programs we’ve done in the past, programs which often reach only the core group of engaged students and serve no other purpose than to fill space on the calendar (why do we need to have so many programs like “paint your own pottery at the Mad Potter?” there’s NO Jewish content and the same 10 people always come. And yet we continue to have it on the calendar year after year. And the JCSC has to do it) as “social” programming. It makes no sense, then, to hire staff to do “engagement” work when what is expected from that staff member is the same old programming. The few low-barrier programs we managed to have on campuses were completely my doing, and were met with negative feedback and questioning from my supervisor (yes, I spent money buying honey sticks, hours taping “Have a sweet new year from Hillel” on them, and then handed them out to total strangers. That’s the idea.). If you don’t buy into the engagement model, then it is really doomed for failure from the beginning. It’s like I’ve told students all year—in order to make a successful program, you have to take ownership of it, and really make it your own. If it’s not your own, then it just won’t fly. So, I think what would be helpful and constructive would be for this Hillel to take a good hard look at itself in the mirror, and really come to terms with what it is looking to do. If you don’t agree with the engagement model, then don’t pretend to do it.

This should not be an issue

Sometimes I can't believe that I work for a Jewish organization. Certain issues come up, that really shouldn't. For example, Jews keep kosher (well, some Jews), and especially so on Passover (side note: it's interesting, even though many people don't keep kosher at all during the year, it seems that a lot of Jews make a concerted effort on Passover). I was totally appalled that my supervisor, who is a Rabbi, was unaware and unconcerned when I pointed out that we had not made the microwave kosher, and therefore could not heat up left overs for lunch tomorrow. He suggested cleaning the microwave now, which is a problem for a number of reasons:

1. You aren't supposed to have chametz (leavened products) in your possession during Passover. If chametz is in your possession, it absolutely should not have anything to do with food preparation during the holiday.

2. If you went through that strange loophole of selling your chametz (a lot of Jews sell their leavened products to a neighbor or other organization, whereby through a legal contract they no longer own the chametz. They can leave it in their houses and simply buy it back after the holiday) you don't own those items anymore. Because we sold our chametz, we cannot, because of the legal contract we made, touch any of it. Which means no microwave cleaning.

3. It is dishonest in that the holiday started over the weekend and we advertised Kosher for Passover meals for all the students that come to the lounge during the week. So, we should be able to provide actual Kosher for Passover meals, and not just say we do. Furthermore, these are people's religious beliefs and practices! It is absolutely NOT alright to skimp or be lazy about these things, simply because it's easier.

4. This is not what pluralism is about. I have previously complained that pluralism is not about the frummiest common denominator, but I also have to say that it's not about the most convenient denominator. Just because my supervisor is a Reform Rabbi does not mean that he should expect everybody else to practice Judaism the same way he does. We need to make everybody comfortable here, not just the reform students and (ahem) staff. If we really want to be pluralist, we must accommodate observant students as well as non-observant students. That's what pluralism means. Or should mean, anyways.

This just really grinds my gears. I realize more and more that this is not the right organization for me, and that I really disagree with my supervisor about SOOO many things. It seems ridiculous to me that this is my first real work experience, and that I already understand that this really is not the way to do things.

musings

I can't believe I haven't written anything in a month! I've had a lot of new Jewish experiences I could/should write about, but I think I'm going to ramble on now about time.

My, how the speed at which time passes seems to change. All throughout this year, it seemed as if time was creeping along at the pace of a hippo, trundling along though the forest (i.e. VERY SLOWLY) and stopping to eat berries along the way. But now, it seems as if the time hippo has morphed into some sort of race car, speeding down the racetrack at 160 mph. Crazy. It's so strange, that along this whole way all these life-cycle events pop up. During a particularly fast lap around the track, I had an interview in Ohio, and then immediately flew back to RI for my grandfather's shiva. Oh, and my friend Jewish Gal got engaged! It seems just like a whole lot going on... and in T minus 1 month, I will have officially finished my year at Hillel. Thank goodness. And soon I will be moving home, and then to Boston (Boston area, anyways), and starting grad school. Soon, very soon.

So, I'm not really sure what I'm trying to say, but in any case, I need to go kascher my kitchen. Happy Passover, to anybody reading this (anybody?)

I am not your secretary

My job is the down and dirty of a non-profit. I get my hands wet, so to speak, in the actual mission of the organization. There are many aspects to make an organization run, and these aspects are all valuable and necessary. I would venture to say, however, that some positions are more vital than others. And considering the fact that I actually work with the students in this campus-based organization, I would venture to say that my position is pretty freaking important. I am making the main purpose of the organization possible. And yet, I am constantly treated with little regard, no respect, and no thanks for the amount and kind of work that I do.

At a dreaded board of directors meeting tonight, one of the members actually had the gumption to ask if I would "be a dear and go ahead and make 20 copies of this for the board, I just don't know how to use the copy machine." BULLSHIT. Yes, you do know how to make copies. This is not exactly a new technology. The point is, however, that this is not my job. It is not my job to run every errand, to return speaker systems or pick up packages. It is certainly not my job to make copies.

I think what bothers me so much is that I'm considered expendable. I'll be leaving in a few months, so who cares if I feel demeaned and belittled? Forget about praise or congratulations or even just a little pat on the back.

I feel like I've really gotten the short end of the stick, here. I think that not all campus organizations are as ridiculous as mine; somehow or other, I ended up here. I have to deal with it until I can leave, and if nothing else I've learned a great deal about management. Specifically, I've learned about how not to treat employees. Clearly, the way I've been treated is not the way you treat somebody you want to stick around.

Jewish Music

I've been thinking a lot about Jewish music lately, as I've been to a number of Jewish concerts. The idea of a Jewish band is nothing new, that's for sure, but it's really interesting to see what Jewish musicians are doing now.

First, we've got Rick Recht, who came to perform for the Religious School where I teach. In case you don't know, Rick Recht is kind of like Christian rock, but for Jews. He uses some Hebrew, but also a lot of English. There's a lot of clapping, and audience participation, and his music sounds like any lite-rock band. I have to say, despite the obvious qualms I have (er... not the biggest fan of his music, plus, there's something sort of weird and crowd controlling about his music), he does some really interesting things. One of his biggest projects is a multi-faith music group that performs at a mega-church in the south. It's much needed, and really a cool way to get different people together.

I also got to see Hadag Nachash this week. I have to say, I love Hadag Nachash. They were performing at a big Israel party, and because this party was on a college campus, there were anti-Israel protesters. When Hadag Nachash came out on stage, they started their show by greeting the Palestinians, saying that they are all about peace in the middle east. Their first song was called "shalom salaam peace," and included an Arabic rap about peace in Jerusalem. It was really wonderful and amazing.

On Friday night, Golem played a show.
I had never seen Golem before, and only sort of knew their music. Basically, Golem is a Yiddish rock band. They are amazing. One of the reasons I think Golem is so wonderful is because of the way they work with tradition. They took some classic Yiddish songs and really made them their own, with their own sound and style. It's the way Judaism has to move forward-- we ought not forget about our history and traditions, but we have to make all of it our own, and make it for now.

Basically, I think that it is through such avenues as Jewish music and Jewish bands that this contemporary Jewish culture is evolving. These bands create a sort of cultural pride, and take pride in themselves. Their projects propel us further along.

It's the end of the world as I know it

That's right, friends. I just got news that the JCSC Fellowship is being discontinued. I am the last Fellow to work at my Hillel. Apparently, somebody realized that there's an even cheaper way to get the job done. Why bother paying salaries when you can get students to do it for free?

I have to say, I feel a bit relieved. I don't have to try to pretend anymore that I've enjoyed this fellowship. I don't have to lie through interviews with candidates, and tell them all they want to know about Hillel. I'm glad that no poor soul will have to experience this job here again. I think that, although it's not like this everywhere, my Hillel has abused the fellowship. My supervisor said it himself, he treats Fellows more like full time program staff who are just less well paid. Fellows are expected to shlep, plan programs, and do the general bidding of the Hillel at large, all while working wayyy over 40 hours a week, receiving a $22,000 a year living stipend (NOT INCLUDING TAXES), and being treated not like real professionals.

[caveat: Don't get me wrong, this has been a very valuable experience. I have sooo much more of a clue as to what I want to do with myself. I now know that the Jewish communal world has some major issues to be worked out, and that I can be a part of that solution. That I can find positions higher up and make structural and organizational changes. It's really a shame that I had to find this out through such poor mistreatment. And I have to say, I really think that I've been mistreated here]

I feel like laughing, just to spite my supervisor. This is what you get!

That being said, there are some HUGE problems that arise out of this change. The first is that 70 campuses and people are shit out of luck. Hillel had been accepting applications for the position for next year, and even encouraging us to recruit for more applicants (um, and outright lying to us at Professional Staff Conference... but that's something else altogether). All those people who were counting on the job for next year now have nothing. And all those Hillels who had fellows now have to totally rearrange their budgets to figure out if they can afford to hire somebody else. It's a messy situation.

and that's a wrap for today's rant, boys and girls.

In which I ramble about Jewish identity. or: an excerpt from my graduate school application statement of purpose

The concept of Jewish identity is changing. The award-winning documentary, “The Tribe,” puts forth the idea that every group has a number of sub-groups contained within itself. The Tribe refers specifically to the overarching group of The Jews, and contained within this group are all the different kinds of people who are identified as Jewish: Reform Jews, Orthodox Jews, Cultural Jews, Atheist Jews, Bacon-eating Jews, Blond-haired-blue-eyed Jews, Feminist Jews, etc. Although an individual may only choose to self-identify with one of these sub-groups, the message espoused by “The Tribe” is that any kind of self-identification whatsoever is a connecting factor to the group at large, and is seen as a tie to the polymorphous global Jewish community (and beyond that to the Human community).
The sentiment expressed by this important documentary is quite lovely. However, there are several rather practical implications that arise from this very real model of self-identity: the Jewish community is fragmented by all these divisions; people may describe themselves in a multitude of ways, but in actuality have no corresponding, physical sub-community with which to participate; individuals who relate to less orthodox modes of identity feel alienated by larger community groups; people who are seeking content are often met with fluff (a good example of this is Heeb magazine, which is supposed to be a publication offering alternatives to the “traditional” views of Judaism, but instead prints articles about bagels and lox, leaving a rather hollow impression of Judaism) and feel dissatisfied and further distanced.
A number of social factors have contributed to changing avenues of identity and the correlating issues associated with community. Because of integration into a general American society, second and third generation Jewish-Americans offer their children little in the way of Jewish education, or are themselves estranged from Jewish communal organizations. The direction of the general American society which these Jews are so closely tied is also clearly impactful, in terms of identity: American culture teaches a very specific mixture of suspicion, pride, and aloofness, which is often prohibitive of real community building, content, and connection.
I do not believe that there is any one real solution to these types of issues, except to expect that Jewish organizations must realize these trends in the wider population and begin to respond. It is clear to me that many Jewish communal organizations cling to one historical framework, which often does not allow room for flexibility. Part of the solution must include changes in the educational systems of such organization—if children have positive experiences, hopefully they will not migrate to the periphery of the community. As well, Jewish organizations must adapt and embrace a new understanding of what this shift in identity really means. Certainly, Jewish community cannot continue to operate in the same traditional manner without risking complete societal irrelevance and antiquation.

what time is it?

It's time to move on.

I feel like I already have a foot out the door. I have worked and worked and worked-- my last post was about a meaningful experience, but let me tell you there have been many many negative experiences. I've learned a lot about what I'm looking for in a job, let's just say that...

I've applied to graduate school. Yay me! I applied to three schools (one is a joint program), to programs in Jewish communal service. I think one of the things that I've learned is that I'm really interested in management and policy: how these Jewish organizations work, how they treat their employees, and how they function in the community at large. I really do not want to be a gopher anymore; all I do is schlepp and shop and carry and cater. The structure of Hillel, and of many other Jewish organizations, is such that there is an incredibly high turn over rate. Young, idealistic college graduates, like me, are brought into these organizations, and then paid $22,000 a year to work 50 hours a week (plus) doing highly stressful and emotional work. They burn out after one or two years. I'm burned out now-- I would NEVER do this job for another year, not for all the MJEs in the world. Maybe it's time to reconsider the value of operating an organization in this manner.

I really hope I get into graduate school. I also really hope I get some money to go... Let's just say that $22,000 a year wasn't a hypothetical salary.

MJE

A lot of jargon gets tossed around in the Hillel world. As a JCSC Fellow, I constantly hear one term in particular: MJE. What is an MJE, you ask? It stands for "meaningful Jewish experience." Psshht, that sounds like a bunch of bologna if I ever heard.. a bunch of bologna. Meaningful Jewish experience. That seriously could be anything. Basically, the idea is that through my efforts, I will help the students I work with connect to Judaism on some level, any level they're comfortable with, and they will then have some kind of MJE; also, the experience of simply helping students arrive at their own MJEs will be an MJE for me. That's the idea.

I have to say, every once in a while an MJE sneaks up on me. Here I am, minding my own business and trying to just get everything done on time and done well, and something small will happen (students will have a good time at a program, a good conversation happens, students confide in me, etc) and I'll think, "holy cannoli, batman." It's like all my grief and stress, and pinching headaches, and driving around this city like a madwoman, eventually add up to these random experiences, these feelings of happiness and meaning and connection. Even though I'm often upset and terribly stressed, I sometimes realize why it is that I put up with all this other stuff: simply put, it can be meaningful and is significant to me and the people with whom I work. It matters. And when it hits you, even if it's just one moment, it is shocking and powerful.

I've been having stress headaches again this semester, and I was feeling particularly agitated this afternoon because my new co-worker doesn't have her business credit card yet, and we had two separate Shabbat dinners planned for tonight, so I was the only one to drive around and pick up all the food (chicken (ya, I had to get the meat!), kugel, potatoes, salad and veggies, wine, soda, paper goods, brownies, challah, the prayer books, calendars, name cards, etc) all by myself. I had to go get everything before the kosher stores close (on Friday afternoon, that's about 2 or 3), bring it back to Hillel and unpack everything, and then later come back and reheat everything, pack it up again, and bring it to where it needed to go. And I was pissed. Oh yes I was.

I was in charge of a Shabbat dinner on one of the campuses nearby. I set everything up, and then I noticed that instead of the 20-ish people I was expecting, we had almost twice that amount. We all sat together for a brief Kabbalat Shabbat service, and I heard all these voices singing, laughing, and explaining. I saw people helping their friends to follow along with the right passage. I saw new faces, people I had not yet met. And I couldn't help that MJE feeling, despite that I had felt a lot of stress (and anger!) earlier in the day thinking about the nitty-gritties. This is meaningful for the students who came, and it was most certainly meaningful for me. And even though this moment will pass and tomorrow I'll be cursing about my job again, right now I feel content. It's for the moments like these that I put up with the stress.

Not to say that my job should be this ridiculously stressful. Because it REALLY shouldn't be. Goodness.

the board meeting of death

Let me first say that I am not a master of my facial reactions-- when I'm shocked, appalled, and utterly confounded, you can usually tell. That being said, you can understand that it took more than a little will power to tone down my reactions to the ridiculous 2 hour board of directors meeting that occurred yesterday. I'm not sure if was a full moon or what, but all these people were seriously out for blood. I know that people generally do like to hear themselves talk, but this was a whole other thing; these people actually refused to listen to anything anybody else had to say. Here's a sample of the debate:

President of the Board: you have all been doing a bad job!
lay leader x: how can you say that? I've always done it this way and I raised this much money and I don't want to do more work.
President of the Board: no, you're supposed to raise money and it's all your fault.
lay leader x: how can you say that? I've always done it this way and I raised this much money and I don't want to do more work.
President of the Board: no, you're supposed to raise money and it's all your fault.

ad infinitum. Seriously.

Besides the annoyingness, I have a few other thoughts:

1. Money really sucks. When people start thinking in terms of numbers, they think, "we spend this much money, this many students come to programs." The only things considered at all are expense. Nobody thinks about the vision of the organization or the quality of experience we offer to students. I understand that a non-profit still has to be run like a business, it obviously can't spend money it doesn't have, BUT the driving purpose of this organization is NOT money. It plays a part, but it cannot be the central focus. At the board meeting, not one single person was interested in the mission of this organization or how it can better reach and serve its student populations. Somebody dared to ask, "if only 5 students show up to a program, is it worth it?" YES! Undeniably yes it is worth it. If I, as an engagement professional, can successfully engage just one student, than yes, the whole damn thing is worth it! How else is the Jewish community ever going to survive? There is a veritable sea of Jews out there who don't self-identify as Jewish and who aren't at all connected, culturally or otherwise. And if one, five, or ten people are able to create connections because of the job that we do, then the expense of it all is absolutely worth it.

2. You MUST invest in the future. If we want to be relevant and pertinent to this generation, then we have to develop programs and strategies to reach them. And that costs money. That's the fact of it. You can't go about charging people for a religious connection-- they'll never ever step foot in the door if that's the case. And frankly, it's completely ridiculous to suggest that. I was talking to JewishGal about this yesterday and she made an excellent argument: at NO point in history has the younger generation been responsible for finding their own religious education or connection. It is the task of the older generations to provide this connection. And for some reason, now, we've sort of just been dumped by the older generations to fend for ourselves. So, seriously, raise some money and support the organizations that will create and foster community. And if you don't, then shut up and deal with the consequences (assimilation, etc).

I'm sure there's more. I'm pretty tired, though. So that's it.

are teachers actually dumb, or is it just a religious school thing?

I just finished 3 hours of mandatory Religious School bologna. The theme of this teacher inservice was, "how to integrate the arts into your classroom." Not only was it a total snoozefest (OH MY GOODNESS, who the hell thinks up this stuff?), but it was also mostly a waste of time. It makes me really frightened about the kind of education we as a community are offering. I was pretty sure, sitting there listening to the head of the religious school drone on and on about the importance of engagement and puppets, that my brain was literally minutes away from completely atrophying. Everything said during the whole program was, I should HOPE, completely self-evident. Really, I have to explain the project to the class? I thought I could just throw some felt and googly eyes at them and see what happens.

The other thing that really grinds my gears is that, while it all seemed totally obvious to me, every second somebody was arguing: "no, I think if you tell them what to do then they won't be creative and just copy you," blah blah blah. I'm not sure if people just like listening to themselves, or if they really just like arguing, or what-- but seriously? Seriously! Is all of this so crazy that we have to argue over it? Also, people don't know the material! We were talking about this wire-project to create sculptures of Hebrew letters, and like half the people in the room couldn't read Hebrew, like, at all. We had to enact certain Bible stories, and they got those wrong, too. And these are the flipping TEACHERS!!!?

People like this make religious school a total waste of time for the kids they're "teaching."

aaaaaaand go.

I went into the office for a few hours today. Granted, about half of that time was lunch... Our new Jewish Student Life Coordinator started work today. She seems really nice. I feel sort of bad, I have most of the control in this situation-- at lunch, we divvied up responsibilities. The conversation went something like this:

Me: I want to do this, this, and this. And I don't want to do this.
JSLC: oh, ok, I'll do this.
Supervisor: Who wants to do this task?
Me: Not me.

I feel better about how busy I'll be next semester. It makes me feel a lot better knowing that I'll have some help schlepping stuff around (and that's a good part of my job). And it felt nice to take some control and really be able to shape how my time will be spent. I'll start back up, full time, on Monday. I'll have a little bit of a slow week, just getting settled back in and whatnot, and then things will pick up like craaazy.

I'm feeling really unsettled right now. Even though I've been thinking about next semester, I feel like I really have a foot out the door. Like, I can't wait until this is all over. Granted, some of my experiences here have been gratifying, and it feels genuinely good to know that some of my programs are successful and maybe even have some impact (keep dreaming, you dreamer). However, I generally feel completely and totally unappreciated.