Award-winning
author, educator, speaker, consultant, and Jewish feminist activist.
"Last
week I traveled to the United States for the publication of my book, The
War on Women in Israel: A Story of Religious Radicalism and the Women Fighting
for Freedom. It was a whirlwind week -- I traveled to events and book
signings across five cities in four states in 10 days. I signed lots of books,
met some fabulous people, and heard from many people -- men and women -- who
were deeply grateful for a moderate voice calling for an end to the religious
extremism that is hurting women. That's why what happened to me on the flight
home to Israel was so shocking, and so upsetting.
The
plane took off 20 minutes late because an ultra-Orthodox man was negotiating
with passengers so as not to have to sit next to a woman -- me -- on the 11-hour
flight. I asked myself if this was karma or poetic justice. After all, I had
just spoken to hundreds of people about exactly these issues, and the way women
are made to feel like second class citizens as a result. P art of me wanted to
smile and hand out copies of my book. But I sat there silently for a long time,
watching all this happen, witnessing all these men around me talking about me,
mostly in Yiddish, but also in Hebrew and English, without looking directly at
me. I sat there, torn between my desire not to make a scene and my feeling that
If I don't articulate, right here and now, how all this affects women, how this
affects me, who will?
So
finally I spoke out. Right before the man found a replacement to sit next to me,
I said, "Can I say something?" and without looking at me, he said yes. I said,
"Imagine if instead of men and women, we were talking about Jews and non-Jews.
Imagine how you would feel if a bunch of non-Jews were standing around saying
that they can't sit next to you because you're a Jew, that they are w illing to
sit anywhere but next to you, because their religion won't allow it, because you
are impure or different, or whatever. how would you feel? How would you ever get
over that insult?" I could feel my voice rising. After all these years of
writing about this, after this whole tour where I went around listening to
people and sharing ideas, I just couldn't stay silent in the face of this
humiliation.
I'm
not sure whether it mattered. One young man very kindly said to me, "You don't
understand, women are holier than men." I said, "That's rubbish and it doesn't
excuse the insult," and then I added that I spent 13 years in yeshiva and
there's nothing he could tell me that I haven't already heard. Then the original
man, the one who refused to sit next to me, muttered to another man as he was
walking away, "She doesn't understand." I said, "I understand everything, and
don't talk to me as if I'm not here." He ignored me, and all the other men
turned their backs and did not respond or even look at me.
I
sat down, put on my seatbelt, looked out the window and suddenly started to
cry.
At
one point I said to the men, whose backs were turned to me, "I sat here for half
an hour just absorbing the insult." That's what everyone expected me to do.
That's what women are accustomed to doing. We give all kinds of reasons -- we
say we don't mind, we like sitting in the back of the bus, we don't want to "be
like men," this is what God wants, we don't want to make a fuss, we like their
liv es. So we absorb the insult. We pretend everything is great. Maybe in some
ways it is. Maybe we generally or genuinely love our lives. Maybe we are afraid
of losing something if we fight for change. Maybe we are afraid of our own
power. so we smile and go about our lives and pretend that this doesn't
happen.
If
there is one thing that I would like to change in the world, it is this: I would
like women to respect themselves enough to say no to all this. I want women to
allow themselves to feel the impact of the silencing. I want women to be honest
with themselves and to look at their lives and the places where they are
powerless or oppressed, and to acknowledge that. Better yet, I want women to say
no, I will not be silent or servile. I will not continue to absorb the insult as
if this is all OK. I want women to say that they deserve better. I want women
to believe that they deserve better."
I applaud the courage of Elana Maryles Sztokman for her outstanding book, The War on Women in Israel, and for sharing this sad experience of sexism on the plane back to the U.S.
It is time for all people and all religions to affirm that women are created as equals in God's image. Women reflect the feminine face of God and should be treated as equals in every area.
As readers of my blog know, women priests are persona non-gratis in the institutional church. I was recently on a beautiful Catholic pilgrimage to Ireland. Two weeks before we left, I received a call informing me that the women priests group on the tour would get their own bus. I was delighted about this development since our friendly bus driver was more than willing to take us off the beaten path to Celtic holy women sites such as St. Brigit's wells and St. Gobnait's monastic ruins and well.
However, there was one glitch!
 |
| Sean Levins, our wonderful bus driver in Ireland |
After our small bus broke down on the way to Adare, County Limerick, Padraig, the wonderful bus driver from the other larger tour bus , picked us up. We were informed that he had to deliver his passengers on the other Catholic tour bus to their destination before he could return and pick us up. Someone had given orders that the two groups could never be together. (even apparently in an emergency situation) Apparently there was a directive by the priest who organized the trip and that "under no circumstances" were the two groups to be on the bus together.
Like Elana Maryles Sztokman, women priests and our supporters are ostracized by conservative Catholics and like Elana, we are not silent! Bridget Mary Meehan, ARCWP, www.arcwp.org
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