The Yid Lid
I have a friend whose son recently turned three. She promptly plopped a kippah on his head, but he's still at the age where it only stays on for a few minutes. She expressed some concern to me over the weekend. She really isn't sure that she wants to have his Judaism so prominently displayed in the current world climate.
I think every Jewish mother with a son grapples with this at some time. (The girls dress is not as blatant and they can blend in pretty well.) We notice when someone reacts to our sons' dress. We all contemplate whether to tell our sons to wear a baseball hat in certain places and situations. Here in Michigan we have the Michigan M-litia, and the largest concentration of Arabs in the country, so my friend's concern is probably justified.
However, I had an experience in Chicago which changed my whole way of thinking about this. Y and I were crossing a busy intersection, when one of the pedestrians coming toward us stopped. He looked at Y's head, and said "is that thing on your head a Yarmulke?" He then went on to give Y a whole pep talk, telling him how cool he is to wear it and how amazing he is for being so proud of his Judaism. I mean - WOW! This busy, successful looking man in a very nice suit, stopped to say that to Y! He had the biggest smile on his face.
This is a lesson that will stay with Y for the rest of his life. My $7500 a year payment to the school yields a lot of reward, but this invaluable, major life lesson was given to him for free in the middle of Michigan Ave. For the rest of his life, Y will know that there are people who, even though they don't look or dress like him, are admiring his Jewish pride. Whenever there is a doubt about whether or not to wear a kippah or a baseball hat, or his tzitzit out or in, he will have this memory to guide him.
The irony is that it was a REALLY hot day in Chicago, and I brought along a baseball cap (because of the weather). Only a few minutes earlier I was contemplating putting the hat on him, but I decided to wait until we got to our next stop, and I could more easily dig through our bag. That's Hashgacha pratis (divine intervention) for you.
Jenn
I think every Jewish mother with a son grapples with this at some time. (The girls dress is not as blatant and they can blend in pretty well.) We notice when someone reacts to our sons' dress. We all contemplate whether to tell our sons to wear a baseball hat in certain places and situations. Here in Michigan we have the Michigan M-litia, and the largest concentration of Arabs in the country, so my friend's concern is probably justified.
However, I had an experience in Chicago which changed my whole way of thinking about this. Y and I were crossing a busy intersection, when one of the pedestrians coming toward us stopped. He looked at Y's head, and said "is that thing on your head a Yarmulke?" He then went on to give Y a whole pep talk, telling him how cool he is to wear it and how amazing he is for being so proud of his Judaism. I mean - WOW! This busy, successful looking man in a very nice suit, stopped to say that to Y! He had the biggest smile on his face.
This is a lesson that will stay with Y for the rest of his life. My $7500 a year payment to the school yields a lot of reward, but this invaluable, major life lesson was given to him for free in the middle of Michigan Ave. For the rest of his life, Y will know that there are people who, even though they don't look or dress like him, are admiring his Jewish pride. Whenever there is a doubt about whether or not to wear a kippah or a baseball hat, or his tzitzit out or in, he will have this memory to guide him.
The irony is that it was a REALLY hot day in Chicago, and I brought along a baseball cap (because of the weather). Only a few minutes earlier I was contemplating putting the hat on him, but I decided to wait until we got to our next stop, and I could more easily dig through our bag. That's Hashgacha pratis (divine intervention) for you.
Jenn
posted by Jenn @ 10:35 AM
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