A Modern Text: A Very Focused Review

One of the journals I read (it's often my "I can't focus in shul, let's read for 5 minutes during the announcements/brachot after haftarah/etc reading) is Conversations.  In the winter 2012 issue, there's an article by Rabbi Marc Angel called "A Modesty Proposal: Rethinking Tseniut"  (It's available online).  It's a broad approach to his philosophy of tsniut in general, and I'm not going to address his whole article.  But here's what he has to say about women's head covering, and my own thoughts in response:

Here are a few items that udnerscore the gap between the concept of tseniut and the technical halakhic rules that are supposed to foster tseniut:
1. “Women’s hair is considered ervah, nakedness.” Normative halakha applies this statement only to married women. Single women need not cover their hair, since men are used to seeing them with uncovered hair and will not be aroused.

This ascribes one particular reason to the requirement for married women to cover their hair.  Rabbi Angel argues that women's hair (in a moment, he'll limit it to adult women's hair) is arousing, but that we presume that this is not true of single women.  I've seen it argued elsewhere that while women's hair is attractive, single women are permitted to reveal it in order to "catch" a mate...  If you allow a degree of attractiveness in between "completely platonic" and  "generally arousing", the argument begins to break down a little bit.

Is this a valid argument? In olden times when girls were married off at an early age, this assumption may have held true. Seeing girls up to the age of early teens with uncovered hair may have been a normal feature of life, not generating untoward thoughts on the part of men. Yet, today most women do not get married while they are still children. If a woman in her 20s or 30s has her hair uncovered, what difference would it make to men whether she is single or married? Most men would not be able to tell whether such a woman is single or married.

Another interpretation of the reason behind the mitzvah is to help us tell who is married and who is not.  It falls then less into the category of tzniut, admittedly (and makes trouble for the gemara on which Rabbi Angel is relying, but it is not the only gemara that discusses women's head-covering), and more into the category of a status-marker, like wearing a kippah might be (marking one as a Jew, among its other uses), or wearing a wedding ring.

Yet, halakha allows the single woman to go bare-headed, while a married woman must cover her hair. If the purpose of head covering is to foster tseniut and to prevent men from looking at women’s “nakedness,” then there is no substantial reason today to differentiate between married and single women. Either all women of marriageable age should cover their hair, or none of them need cover their hair because men are accustomed to seeing women with uncovered hair. Indeed, Rabbi Yosef Mesas rules that married women need not cover their hair in our days, since the normal practice of women in our society is to go with hair uncovered.  He wrote: “Since in our time all the women of the world have voided the previous practice and have returned to the simple practice of uncovering their hair, and there is nothing in this that constitutes brazenness or lack of modesty…therefore the prohibition of covering one’s hair has been lifted.”

In other words, he argues that social norms of modesty have shifted, and therefore Jews should follow the same norms as the rest of the society in which we live.  And modesty is always about social norms to a certain extent.

But it can also be able establishing our own communal norms- and certain parts of the Jewish community take that perspective very seriously- to the point of declaring immodest things that are considered more than modest enough in the general society (for instance long, relatively loose pants).  (Yet another perspective declares modesty to be external to society and to have fixed, inviolable rules.  That perspective would reject Rabbi Angel's argument as absurd.  That perspective has a hard time dealing with history, though.)

Even without going to that extreme, there might be room to decide that we see some value in some intermediate practice- or even for going "whole hog" in order to maintain our identity.  On the other hand, I see a lot of justice in this argument.  It's a pretty fair one- as long as you consider modesty to be a purely social/communal phenomenon.

2. “Women’s hair is considered ervah.” Yet various posekim allow women to cover their own natural hair with a wig. As long as they have fulfilled the technicality of covering their hair, they are not in violation of halakha.

The weighing of the technicalities and the intent of halakha tend to come up at a draw.  I sympathize with Rabbi Angel's argument, myself.   Nevertheless, I can see a concern with fulfilling a technicality when you don't feel strongly about the intent.  If you don't understand the intent of hair-covering, or feel it is inapplicable (as Rabbi Angel himself seems to feel or at least accept as reasonable), then why not fulfill a mitzvah while not marking yourself as outside the norm?

In some circles, it is expected that married women wear wigs; if they do not do so, they are considered to be religiously deficient. Does this make any sense? Women will spend thousands of dollars to buy wigs that often look better than their own hair. They will wear these wigs, which can be quite attractive, and be considered to be within the laws of tseniut. However, if a woman “wears” her own hair, in a modest fashion, such a woman is deemed (by many) to be in violation of halakha. If a woman’s hair is indeed nakedness, how can it possibly be permitted for them to wear wigs—also made of hair? Would anyone suggest that a woman is permitted to wear a skin-colored dress that is printed with the design of her private body parts? Of course not. Such clothing is obviously anti-tseniut. Likewise, if a woman’s hair is nakedness, covering it with a wig is anti-tseniut.

 I'm fond of this argument, because it's so blatant.  However, since I see a fairly significant difference between hair and one's genitalia, breasts, etc, I can see some space for claiming that this argument is too overstated to be reasonable.  After all, as long as one's wig is part of one's external apparel, it acquires a certain status in our minds.  And since there are plenty of women who don't cover their hair at all, all around us, while almost no women walk around with uncovered genitalia, there's a difference in gradation going on- maybe.  After all, I do see observant women who wear vaguely skin-colored shirts under otherwise two-revealing tops, and that seems to be acceptable...  Just because two things carry the same general label doesn't mean that they fit into an exactly identical category.

Blogging My Interests and Anxieties

When I started this blog, I said I'd be writing about all sorts of aspects of Jewish head-covering: personal experiences, source texts, pictures, how-tos, crafts, etc.  And I've done a little bit of that.  But mostly, I've focused on married women's head-covering- in my texts (and there will be more texts coming, for real), in my pictures and in most of my reflections.  It's the reality that I'm living right now- and therefore, it speaks to me most vividly.

But I'm also really invested in talking about kippah-wearing, both for men and women, and the interesting sometimes controversy of wigs, and whatever other options I can come up with.  And I haven't been writing about those things at all- and I really think that they're worth talking about, and talking about in the same forums as my style photos and musings about my own current experiences.

Some of my focus is just that it is easiest to write about what is most current for me.  Some of it is that I don't really know who my audience is- I'm writing for women who cover their hair already- so probably mostly the Orthodox.  I'm also writing for other folks who are interested and egalitarian.  Do I just write what I want to, for myself, and let such readership as I have deal with it?  Or do I play it safe?  I've been playing it safe, a significant chunk of the time.  The thing is- that isn't the point of this blog.  I'm going to make more of an effort to both a. post more often, and b. talk about a broader range of issues relating to the things that we Jews put on our heads.

Work-Wear: A Sampler

My computer keyboard has been broken for the last couple of weeks, so I've only managed to post what I had either pre-written or done on my husband's computer...  So, now it's been fixed, but I'm tired, and heading to a conference for a couple of days next week.  So here's a sampler of pictures I've taken of work-wear over the last few weeks, in no particular order...

Resources: Link with Videos

Courtesy of rivkamalka.com, I came across this blog with a lot of really useful tutorial videos and ideas for interesting tichel arrangements.  Several of her ideas were new to me, and look pretty easy, too.  I haven't read any of her other content yet, but it seemed quite worthwhile to share with you folks- especially a certain kallah I met recently who is thinking about how she might want to cover...

And speaking of rivkamalka.com- here's a video that shows both a lovely combination of scarves, but also, as the first step, a tip for making a pashmina a wearable tichel that doesn't look so bulky as to be overwhelming (something I've been trying to figure out).

Dealing With Awkward Comments

Every once in a while, I get an awkward comment about my scarf.  The latest (of a pretty small number) was  from a patient at work.  She said something like "it's too bad that you wear that- you're such a pretty girl".  I was a little surprised, but found something to say fairly quickly.  My response: "actually,  I find it very meaningful".

I'm not sure that that was the most useful pastoral response- in fact, keeping something focused on her would, I'm sure, have been better.  But socially, I think it was a pretty decent response, simple and to the point.

I've read, frequently, (and experienced some mild spin-off comments) about people who presume that one covers "because your husband makes you".  And for me (and most of the women I've talked to) that is very much not the case.  My husband is supportive of what I do- but would never have asked it of me, and would be equally supportive if I did just what I did before we got married, or anything in between that and this.  (The one thing I think he was once uncomfortable with was seeing me with a regular/men's sized kippah, before we were married, once.  And I don't know that that would bother him at home, any more.  I don't know.  It looks a little odd on me to myself, these days, honestly.  I'm not used to it on myself anymore.)

Do any of you cover (or modify your dress) because your husband/partner really wants it, when you don't or don't particularly care?

Recreating A Recent Shabbos Style

So I should be going to bed, but instead- here's a recreation of a covering I put together for a recent shabbos, and had no time to photograph...

And here it is from the back (except that the tails go a bit longer):

I occasionally miss having something long to hold onto behind my back (a habit when I was thinking or praying, from before I was married), and this definitely gave me that sense of something on my back...  It was also a fun change because the tichel itself (a triangular shawl, folded over because it's rather large) isn't tied at all, just draped over my head and bobby-pinned on.  The ribbon is tied around it (with my bun above the bow), and that brings the scarf together.  It actually held up just fine that way...

The only problem?  My shadow looked a little bit like the bride of Frankenstein- the bow made a shadow that looked like two bolts sticking out of my neck...  Too bad I couldn't get a picture.

Post Yom Kippur Musing

Now that Yom Kippur is over (and my husband isn't home yet- he was away leading services elsewhere, I was home), I've been thinking about how to dress for Yom Kippur.  There's the "it's a holiday, we should look festive" approach, and there's the "it's Yom Kippur, it's totally Not about how you look, white is useful, wear whatever you have that's white" approach.  I tend toward the latter camp, but this year, felt mildly uncertain about it- maybe I should do something to dress up a bit more...  Especially since I'm pale enough to look a little washed out and well, very much on the ascetic side of things, all in white.

Shana Tovah/G'mar Tov: Catching Up

Hey Folks,
I'm still finding my rhythm with my job- especially with the holidays now.  So posting may be rather sporadic until things calm down and I really settle in.  I'm still thinking about all the things that this blog ought to have on it- there will be a return, eventually, to source texts, and to some history and sociology of Jewish headgear in various Jewish communities, along with some photos...

In the meantime, here's a quick news article about women's head-covering, sort of as an interfaith phenomenon.

Follow-Up On Work Anxieties

After the concerns I wrote about before starting work, you might be surprised at the outcome.  Although I’d contemplated trying to make my covering less obtrusive, rather unsurprisingly I went into work in my usual sort of head-coverings, and have had no trouble or discomfort about them.   Neither supervisor seems at all taken aback or discomfited. 

It seems that I pinned my anxieties on an item of dress, when their concerns seem to have rested somewhere else entirely- in some aspect of scheduling or behavior that my dress indicated, rather than in the outfit itself.  I was even aware of that at the time of my interview. 

I don’t know why I fixated on my tichel as the source of their concern- in retrospect, it seems a little bit silly.  I suppose that I grasped onto the physical item that seemed the most Other, in comparison to secular American expectations, and tied all my worries about othering onto it.  A logical connection, but one that might have caused me more anxieties than I might have had otherwise, although there’s no way to know that for certain. 

We’ll see how patients react- I’ve only been really working seriously for a short time (translation: about a day), and so it’s hard to tell, thus far.  But I imagine that, given that chaplains, as religious professionals, are often expected to be marked in their dress in some way, stemming, I imagine, from Christian clergical collars, that a head covering won’t be such a concern.  In many ways, I’m more curious/concerned about how Jewish patients will react, especially the Hasidic population who, it seems, makes up a sizable percentage of the hospital’s Jewish population.  

Are You A Rabbi?

“Are you going to be a rabbi?”  For several years after I started wearing a kippah, I got asked this question in all sorts of places.  At the grocery store, on an airplane…  It was my second most common question, directly after “Is that a yarmulke?  I didn’t know that women wore them”.   Anyone who already knew that some women wore kippot seemed to also presume that any woman who actually did so, outside the synagogue, must either be a rabbi or was going to end up being one.  And indeed, while I was quite set against the idea at the time, I seem to have ended up a rabbi anyway. 

While I stopped getting the question, oddly enough, around when I started rabbinical school (perhaps people in New York are more used to women in kippot than folks in Waltham, Mass), it does open a certain, rather depressing, line of thought. 

Maybe the only women who care enough about the particular practice to take it on are the ones who are so invested in religion that they, for the most part, end up as rabbis.  There isn’t much of a place carved out for really invested, educated laity in the liberal Jewish world.  It isn’t something that I like to look at, but it is, right now, something of a fact on the ground.  If you know something about Judaism, and have invested sufficient personal energy in a practice that people tend to associate with men to wear it in the streets- you’re probably going to end up in the rabbinate, because where else do you fit?  

The problem for me is that I don't want the only women who take this seriously to be women who go into the rabbinate.  I hate the notion that the only women who are willing to go out of their way for the sort of Judaism I believe in are those who want to make it their career.  But how do I persuade anyone to do this, when I know what they're going to be asked are "are you a rabbi?"...