Cynthia Samuels

A Woman of Valor

Lisa Goldberg, 54 years old, died this week of a brain aneurysm. When I heard, all I could think was “what a waste.” While it’s always sad when someone dies, especially to those who loved them, Lisa, quietly (there are so few photos of her available online that I had to use this candid) and with great dignity, contributed so much. President of the Charles H. Revson Foundation, she was responsible for funding many impressive programs. Some dealt with Jewish issues, some with urban social change, and, as in the one through which I met her, some dealt with issues relating to women.

Two years ago, she had the foresight to issue a planning grant to support the launch of the Women’s Media Center, a project for women in journalism whose founders include Gloria Steinem, Jane Fonda, Eve Ensler and Marlene Sanders among other great pioneers. In the time since, the Center has made great strides and become a force not only for women journalists but in the coverage of issues that matter to or involve women.

I didn’t know Lisa well – more admired her from afar. Her role at Revson was remarkable, and her leadership made difference in a great many lives. She was Best Woman at the wedding of a friend of mine — which I always thought was pretty cool. Beyond a few conversations about the Center or books we loved, we didn’t have that much contact.

One incident though, to me, is typical of her. I was “staffing” the early days of the Women’s Media Center and we were meeting at the Manhattan headquarters of the Revson Foundation. Some material had not been printed, there was a blizzard, and I barely had time to get to the offices much less to Kinko’s. Lisa’s staff helped me get everything printed, collated and bound without breaking a sweat – OR acting like they were doing me a favor (which they were…..) I sent Lisa a note letting her know how great they had been. Her response was typical of my perception of her. She thanked me for letting her know, told me she had forwarded my note to the young women who had helped me and added how high her own regard was for each of them. Again – quiet, unassuming and on the mark.

Of course there’s one other thing. When someone dies suddenly, there’s always a moment of terror. In this case, just as I always measure the deaths of older people by whether they were older or younger than my father was when he died, I was shocked to realize that Lisa was younger than I. It’s a credit to her, though, that this thought was fleeting and quickly banished. The loss of such a “woman of valor” is tough enough on its own.

HATS OFF (???) Part 2

You thought we were finished with this, didn’t you? Sorry. Laura Shaw Frank (scholar of such magnitude and teacher of such openness) this weekend continued her lectures on the issue of modesty. She made two points which greatly enhance this conversation — which follows from this earlier post.

The first was that the term "modesty" which includes not only hair covering and clothing but also a gender-neutral moral, ethical and spiritual modesty, is meant to bring us closer to God. So, although many of the most conservative Orthodox Jews set what appear (to me) to be unjust and unnecessary conditions, as we consider what’s modest and what isn’t, where, how and if to cover hair and why, we need to remember the overarching concept of a private relationship with a higher power, enhanced and empowered by a modest body AND spirit; as we consider how intense the rules should be – and indeed why they must exist at all — we need to do so in the context of the intent — male or female — of living modestly.

The second issue she raised was about something called "habituation." "Habituation" is change in social climate – in habit, really. Does the fact that so few women cover their hair make it no longer a form of "nakedness" to leave the hair uncovered? I have to tell you – half of me boils over still at the idea that we even need to have this conversation. In fact, at the discussion, one of my friends asked why she had to listen to rules and Talmudic interpretations of how women should behave, proffered by men. Frank cited valid, respected sources on both sides. Some say that many of the most critical prayers may not be recited in the presence of a woman with uncovered hair; others say that "since most women go that way now, it has become like an exposed part of the body." In other words, "It’s all around you so why would it harm your thoughts or seem like nakedness? You must be inured to it by now."

The thing is – if modesty is also a key to internal connection to God, what is the point of defying the concept? Why not find a way for men and women to pursue modesty as part of the pursuit of God? What Laura Frank maintains is that as we decide how to apply these ideas we need to know the sources. To struggle or condemn rules, as I am wont to do, only by applying current political standards without understanding of the deeper intention is not fair to those who interpret the rules or to oneself. You need a historic and biblical context.

Beyond that – the biggest question: IF WE DO ACCEPT THE CONCEPT OF HABITUATION – WHERE DO WE DRAW THE LINE???? You may remember my link to Cooper Munroe’s site – BEEN THERE, where she posted a New York Times piece called Middle School Girls Gone Wild. It’s a troubling description of very suggestive dance performances by tween-aged girls. No sensible person wants that for her child; it’s that end of the spectrum that underlines the question of "how far do we habituate? How do we maintain the decorum we do seek? Must the slippery slope govern everything?"

I realize that to non-Orthodox Jews this is probably a bizarre post but the idea behind it – living a life without showiness or improper behavior as each of us sees it — is not limited to our small community. The fact that the TIMES story was one of the "most emailed" for some time proves that.

ME AND MRS. MUIR

When I was one year old, Joseph L. Mankiewicz directed Gene Tierney and Rex Harrison (and a very young Natalie Wood) starred in a movie about a spirited widow who falls in love with the ghost of a sea captain. Set in the captain’s seaside cottage high on a bluff, it was wonderful – romantic but in a very modern way. His efforts to “haunt” her until she fled failed because she just didn’t scare easily — which made her very attractive to him (of course it didn’t hurt that she was Gene Tierney beautiful) and his gritty honesty and love of life enchanted her.
I can’t remember the first time I saw The Ghost and Mrs. Muir – it’s so much a part of me – and of memories of sitting up in the middle of the night, on the old sofabed in the room where the TV was, watching it with my sisters and a plate of pretzels and mustard — that it seems as much a part of me as they are. This morning at about 6, I woke up and found it just beginning on HBO.
What a joy for a Sunday morning! Fifty-nine years after this film was made, it’s more timely than many of the most modern of today; the woman so determined to be independent, the man who loves her loving her for that very quality. Of course there’s the rest – the almost disatrous marriage, the help the Captain gives her when she runs out of money – but basically they were two remarkable people on different sides of the veil – yet with more in common and more of a respect for one another than many film couples who are both alive.
So find it on HBO before the month is out or get ahold of it some other way. It’s a wonderful journey to a time and sense of place that valued love and respect between men and women (alive OR dead) and a perfect film to watch with someone you love – lover, husband, son or daughter. You’ll both be happy by the end of it — if a little weepy – and you’ll have so very much to talk about!

Sublime and Ridiculous — New Babies and the Golden Globes

Monday morning dear friends of ours named their new daughter. She had been born on Thursday, but in keeping with Orthodox tradition, no one knew her name until the service held during regular morning prayers. It’s a beautiful tradition – babies names have great thought behind them – connection to a deceased family member and when it’s possible to some kind of deeper meaning. Our friends’ other two kids have very meaningful and special names so we weren’t surprised that this little girl will also carry one. Born the week that the story of Moses in the bulrushes was read in the synagogue – she was named Batya – daughter of God — the name given in commentaries to the daughter of Pharaoh who pulled the infant from the Nile. Her courage, and the fact that she saved the man who would save the Jewish people, earned that for her.

I’d post her photo here but I write this for me and don’t like to turn friends and family into editorial fodder. Suffice it to say that this was an event of great joy – the parents two people whose contributions both as leaders and role models are legion; the big brother and sister, 4 and 2, smart, funny and sweet. Daddy often leads our services, Mom leads much of the study that goes on – and there’s a lot. In the middle of all the love, laughter and prayer I remembered again why I had chosen this complicated life, and was grateful.

Meanwhile, out there in the Outside World, I was amazed at the Golden Globes. Yeah I’m an awards junkie but this year the Globes were like COSTCO – crammed with every kind of person. It was exciting to see how different the winner’s roll call has become. Whether you looked at age, race or nationality, all sorts of people made it to the podium. Here are just some of the winners – and this doesn’t count people from countries other than the UK because I wasn’t sure enough about who was from where. Here goes: 8 WHO ARE NOT SO YOUNG: Warren Beatty, Helen Mirren, Maryl Streep, Martin Scorsese, Helen Moreen (again), Alec Baldwin, Bill Night, Jeremy Irons. 2 WHO ARE LATINO; America Herrera and SHOW Ugly Betty, 6 WHO ARE AFRICAN AMERICAN; Forest Whitaker, Jennifer Hudson, Eddie Murphy, Prince, Grays Anatomy executive producer Shanda Rimes and FILM Dream Girls, and 9 — yes 9 out of 26 major awards – to OUR COUSINS FROM THE UK: Helen Mirren, Sacha Baron Cohen, Helen Mirren again, Peter Morgan, Hugh Laurie, Bill Nighy, Jeremy Irons, Emily Blunt and SHOW: Elizabeth 1.

I also think the quality of the nominated and winning programs was pretty damn high. If it weren’t for reality shows you could almost make the claim that quality is beginning to become expectable on television – and if you count Project Runway you can kind of make the case for at least one of those as well. I’ve even had heavy-duty ‘DC politicos asking me "what are you watching these days?" right along with discussions of the Book Review. The bad is still really bad, of course, but maybe by the time young Batya grows up that will change too.

You’re It!

SO my friend Liza tagged me with the following:

Find the nearest book.
Name the author & title.
Turn to page 123.
Post sentences 6-8.
Tag three more people.

Here’s what turned up:

Robert Scoble and Shel Israel’s Naked Conversations. "He advises those who will listen: "If a blogger has enough passion, the blog becomes the central place on the Internet for that topic. Companies understand the importance of Google but they don’t yet get how blogging fits in. If the corporation doesn’t do this for themselves, then someone else will."

I’m reading the book because a client suggested it; I’m usually more fiction/politics but I have to admit it’s pretty interesting. Scoble is a big friend of BlogHer. He was at last year’s convention.

And I tag Liz, Ronnie and Cooper. Post here or on your own blog.

HATS OFF (???)

What is it about hats? When I was a young lefty-hippie I ran around in a big orange straw hat with a floppy brim. You can see me here with the late, amazing Spalding Gray.

Somehow though, when I entered the world of Orthodox Judaism, the hat seemed a surrender to authority and to what I saw as a kind of lower status. Men cover their heads to remind them of God. Women are mandated to cover their hair for reasons relating to the Orthodox concept of “modesty.”

Our “beit midrash” – a group of women who study Jewish concepts, ideas and texts together every Tuesday, has just spent several sessions talking about hair covering and its origins and interpretations.

The teacher for this topic, Laura Shaw Frank, is an effective,inspiring and gifted teacher. A long-time corporate lawyer, she left her practice to become a Jewish educator. Whatever sacrifices that has involved, it has been a gift to the communities of women (and often men AND women) who have benefited from her teaching.

What we learned, basically, is that 1] Women and the temptation they offer men are perceived as terribly dangerous. Our hair is seen by many sages as so erotic and stimulating that it must be covered to protect both men and women. Therefore modesty becomes our responsibility, to guarantee the virtue of our people. 2] In most parts of Orthodox Judaism only married women must cover their hair. I’m still confused about why it isn’t more dangerous for young, single girls to be “exposed” than old married ladies like me, but there your are. 3] WHEN women must cover their hair depends on where they happen to be. At home, with only family around, no need. The farther we get out into the world, the more rigid is the requirement to “cover up.”

Of course, Orthodox women observe this obligation in different ways. Some wear wigs that cover every hair; some scarves and hats that do the same. Some cover only the top portions of their hair – as this photo of Laura Frank illustrates. Others wear head covering only in Synagogue.

THIS IS ME, NOT LAURA FRANK: In any interpretation it’s discriminatory; we’re covering our heads to protect men. Clearly there’s considerable argument about why this has to happen at all, although almost no disagreement that it has to happen in some form. It’s another acceptance of discipline, but unlike many that I’ve written about here, this one is, to me, a manifestation of a deep distrust of women and the power we wield. I have believed for some time that it is our power to create life, to bring forth new human people, that led men to view us as dangerous and subversive; that somehow it’s based on a jealousy that they do not have this ultimate privilege that rests with us.

ALL those reasons and many many more discussed over these past weeks made me really reluctant to buy into the hat-wearing thing. Then I started thinking about touring Europe and carrying scarves to put over my head in cathedrals. I was willing to cover my head in the cathedrals but not in my own congregation! I decided that was disrespectful. I began wearing scarves tied around my head. They looked kind of cool – and I felt more appropriate.

I wore the scarves for over a year and then I got sick of having them slide around and cram my bangs against my face. I solved the problem. I bought a hat. A red hat. I felt a little bit like I was playing dress-up but it’s become easier.

Last week, at the last class taught by Ms. Frank, we had a hat sale. THAT was really like playing dress-up with your girlfriends! I bought a really pretty one. And although I wear hats whenever I’m in the sanctuary at the Synagogue, I am still bothered by the discrimination implied by the rules and definitions surrounding head coverings.

As we heard in class though, if you’re going to engage in the rules of head covering and modesty, at least know where they came from. I know now, and I’ll cover my head in shul even though I’m not happy with the reasons behind it. In my heart, I still believe that much of the behavior prescribed for women in the Torah emerges from a deep anxiety about the powers and mysteries that surround us — powers that offer us the privilege of pregnancy and birth, of an inviolate connection to our children and of wisdom shared — for centuries — among us. Fortunately, no hat is going to cover that!

LIVING ON THE EDGE – FUTURE TENSE

Some radical thoughts about the future from people who actually might know what they’re talking about: I have always been fascinated by the smart, smart people who live from the center to the edge of the cyberthinker world. Because I was present in LA for much of the early conference/thinker gatherings when they weren’t so exclusive and you could get a press pass if you knew your way around reporter vocabulary, I met many of them — often humbling but exhilarating experiences.

Over the years one of their most resourceful thinkers, John Brockman, has built a foundation called The Edge, where thinkers gather to "ask each other the questions they are asking themselves." The annual question founder Brockman has asked this community of thinkers (albeit more than 6 times more men than women) is "What Are Your Optimistic About? Why?" It’s worth a look. Some of those I know the most about, and respect, whose ideas might intrigue, include Whole Earth Catalogue publisher Stuart Brand, Microsoft pioneers Linda Stone and Nathan Myhrvold , Jaron Lanier, the man who named "virtual reality, Howard Gardner, the Harvard professor who has had such an impact on how we see learning differences and help the kids who have them, and one of the earliest Web thinkers, Esther Dyson.

Take a look; you might actually find a route to some optimism yourself! I was surprised by how much "good news" these people deliver. If we can just get some political leadership to follow up on it we’ll be better able to leverage these possibilities but either way, it’s nice to get some good news once in a while. Happy New Year.

It’s the end of the year. Our first (at least half of it) in this house. We waited a long time to be able to live here – and still face difficulties. But, as the song says, it’s “A very, very, very fine house.” Both of our kids love it — although they’ll always come to visit and probably never live here. Sabbath dinners are lovely and comfortable. All around us, the vibe is good.

We moved here, walking distance from our synagogue, with trepidation as we came further and further into the new, observant lifestyle that has so transformed us. Last night we had dinner with friends of a similar age who moved into the community just last week. “I feel like a different person.” said one of them. Me too, I guess, but in my case it’s really that I feel more like the real self I always knew was in here someplace.

So, on this last day of the year – as we face continued earthly difficulties with our house and its predecessor (don’t ask) I sit, at dawn, sleepless, but thankful for this new opportunity – maybe privilege, that’s been granted to us. As we move to 2007, the 61st year I’ve lived on this earth, the 15th since I quit smoking, the 31st I’ve been a mother, 36th I’ve been a wife and 9th I’ve lived with both my parents gone, I ask – hope – pray for a good long time for Rick and me to follow this path together, for health, happiness and peace for the two of us, our magnificent sons and those they choose to love — and for the loving, generous and exemplary community that has helped set us on this remarkable journey.

Teach Your Children Well

Much of what I enjoy about other blogs, particularly "mommy" ones, is the sense of irony that is so different from my own sentimental view of parenthood. Brutally honest and often painful, they reveal wounds and issues I don’t think I could talk about on line. Loving mothers and beautiful writers, women like Liz at Mom 101, Mir at WouldaCouldaShoulda, Kristen at Motherhood Uncensored and Jenn at Mommy Needs Coffee are all gutsy beyond measure in their honesty. Mocha Momma Kelly, Liza from Lizawashere and BeenThere’s Cooper Munroe are just as honest but with a different tone – one more familiar to me. All perspectives are worthy, moving and wise.

Here’s one of the few times I really feel generational difference though. These bloggers are substantially younger than I am; I’m old enough to be the mother of most of them. I don’t feel that difference often, but today, with one of my boys gone already and the other leaving tomorrow, I just can’t get un-sugary.

The great gift of raising children is I am sure the most profound privilege life brings us. The pleasures are infinite. To my delighted surprise, they don’t stop when these tiny people emerge as full-blown adults, taking their places as productive, loving, principled men. The entire time they, and Josh’s girlfriend Amy, were here this week, was so great that I’m struck dumb with gratitude and love.

For an entire afternoon excavating six boxes of treasures from 20 boxes of childhood stuff — from broken Nintendos and the Jerry Garcia’s death issue of Newsweek to Double Dare sweatshirts and high school yearbooks, they worked, sorted, laughed, read aloud, complained, laughed some more, and got it all done despite my best efforts to help. I wish I could tell you what it felt like to see them laughing together over a first grade "book" Dan had written or once-treasured but minor value baseball cards, remembering the pleasures and joys of their lives.

Nobody’s life is perfect and our family certainly has had its share of pain, but there is a beautiful foundation that holds us up – draws us to one another and fills us with love. That’s corny. We have two sons who are funny and attractive and honorable and productive and considerate and who clearly love us. We are grateful. That’s corny too. I don’t know how to say that with any self-restraint or discipline – stylistic or otherwise.

I adore these young men even as I struggle to retain the distance they deserve (reasonably successful), welcome them when they want to be with us (easy as pie), shut up when they need to be someplace else( do my best), keep my mouth shut when I disagree (getting better all the time.) I am very proud of their self-reliance and accomplishments, their candor about obstacles in their lives, their incredible humor — they are both very funny, particularly when they are together — and their gentle, loving souls. They’ve accepted our newly religious lifetstyle with interest and respect. They are also very good to one another. I revel in their friendship, all the flying back and forth for concerts and birthdays, and great gifts they give one another.

In other words, I’m a corny, unoriginal mom. My sons have brought an unanticipated portion of joy and satisfaction, fun and admiration, adventure and idealism, into my life. And they love us. Stupid us. Despite all the mistakes and complications. I’d love to be able to be a bit ironic about it, to ditch what my kids call my "pink Cindy glasses" for a while just to see how I would sound, but it ain’t gonna happen. So I hope all my edgier colleagues will tolerate this gooey post and understand my inability, tonight, as the year winds down and this family visit winds with it, to say anything except "God I love my kids."

SPIES, LIES AND THE MOVIES

In our usual Christmas Day tradition, we went to a movie today. We chose The Good Shepherd — a sort of biopic of the CIA through the eyes of one Skull and Bones Yalie in the 30s who rose to head counter-intelligence there. Played by Matt Damon, he was a great character but the film itself was troubling. There are plenty of beefs with the plot and the bare, stereotypical portrayal of the women but most interesting to me was its ambiguity.

Throughout the film, it’s clear that much of what’s happening is horribly distasteful and ugly. Yet it’s equally clear that much of it has to be done, and that the people doing it are not ALL odious creatures. Instead, we’re able to think seriously about these people and what it is that has shaped their lives.

As one ugly incident after another arose, all I could think about was a courtroom scene in A Few Good Men when Tom Cruise’s character Lt. Daniel Kaffee questions Jack Nicholson’s memorable Col. Nathan R. Jessep
Col. Jessep: You want answers?
Kaffee: I think I’m entitled.
Col. Jessep: You want answers?
Kaffee: I want the truth.
Col. Jessep: You can’t handle the truth.
Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Whose gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Weinburg? I have a greater responsibility than you could possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago, and you curse the marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. That Santiago’s death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don’t want the truth because deep down in places you don’t talk about at parties, you want me on that wall, you need me on that wall. We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said thank you, and went on your way, Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon, and stand a post. Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you are entitled to.

In other words, lots of ugly things are done in our names. Sometimes, like in Abu Ghraib, they’re wrong. Sometimes, like some of the events in this film, they’re necessary — and as Col. Jessep reminds us — most of us don’t want to talk about them at parties –OR to know about them at all.
As angry as we get – and as ashamed as current government activities may make us – this film has evoked in me a renewed awareness of those complicated moral issues that emerge along with complicated events. For that alone, it’s a movie I’d recommend.