We've Come So Far

By Emily Wasserman
Washington University

When I was a little girl, I was exposed to a movie which would eventually become one of my favorite films of all time. As I watched "Fiddler on the Roof," it was as if I was seeing my ancestors live, congregate and eventually persevere through the noxious pogroms. Also, Tevye’s rendition of "Tradition" proved to be simultaneously hilarious and unforgettable.        

However, one of the main elements I gleaned from my first viewing of the film was not only its cultural significance, but also its gendered representation of women and men. I remember asking my mother why men and women had to sit on opposite sides of the room and even had to hold a cloth between them while they were dancing. These supposed "traditions" of our faith seemed completely foreign to me, as my Reform synagogue encouraged holding hands when we sang Hava Nagilah.

I knew that in the past women and men were separated in social settings.  Just by reading older novels and plays, I began to understand that women held inferior positions to men and were often denigrated based solely on their gender. Some would argue that this denigration was not malicious in intent.  After all, as Tevye and Golde sang about their matrimonial duties, the woman’s job was to raise a family and do the cleaning and the man would provide for his household. Perchik, the radical from Kiev, tried to explain that it was okay to reverse these roles, but no one seemed to listen.        

Today, I find myself looking at the same male-female dichotomy. Of course, religious dictates in certain branches of Judaism follow age-old tenets of acceptable behavior.  Who am I to judge what’s worked for a group for people for generations? Yet I still find myself shocked with what I see.        

Take my next-door neighbors. He’s an Orthodox Jew and in a very unorthodox life decision, he married a Gentile woman who converted to Judaism. They’re raising their children to be Orthodox and she unquestioningly follows the strict regulations of this stream of Judaism. She keeps separate sinks for milk and meat and walks to synagogue every Shabbat, even throughout a pregnancy (of course, these behaviors are not uniquely Orthodox!). Like many other Orthodox women, she sits on a different side of the shul from her husband and, one day, only she and her daughter will be able to pray together: Her three sons and husband will be across the aisle.        

I hear stories about women who shave their heads out of modesty.  In the sweltering heat of May, I’ve observed girls and women covering almost their entire body, even on the walk back from Shabbat services. 

All of these observations bring me to one, unifying question: Why can’t everyone be on the same side? Although it sounds sacreligious, I can’t help but wonder why these gendered roles and regulations have been set into proverbial stone? A rabbi could explain to me the religious implications of these rules, and my neighbor could probably endorse their effectiveness. After all, she’s happily married and has committed herself to a way of life that even many born-Jews do not choose.        

However, in an age where women are running for President, head four major Ivy-League schools, and have risen to an unprecedented socio-economic status, I find myself questioning these age-old traditions. I still agree that some rules can’t be broken, and I sympathize with Tevye’s message. But it remains a mystery to me how little progress some individuals of my own faith have made in the fight for gender equality. For me, cemented rules and century-old tenets have not become the dictates for a modern-day society. I believe in God and in my Jewish faith. Yet, I will always sit by my brother and grandfather in services or dance with them at a family gathering. We all supposedly come from the same Maker. Therefore, in my eyes, there is no reason for separation.

Emily Wasserman is a sophomore at Washington University St. Louis majoring in English Literature and Acting and minoring in French. Besides acting and writing, her passions include reading and trying out new cuisines.

[Posted 12/10/07]