Before I became engaged to my husband, I went home to spend Pesach with my family in Boca Raton. My mother always takes out books that she thinks I might enjoy from the library, and for this visit she insisted that I read The Rabbi’s Wife: The Rebbetzin in American Jewish Life by Shuly Schwartz.1 Ben, my future fiancé, was in his third year of rabbinical school at Yeshivat Chovevei Torah (YCT), and I found it fascinating to learn more about the role that the wives of rabbis had played as leaders in shaping the Jewish community.
Historically, rabbis’ wives and daughters have been among the handful of women, such as Bruriah, who were singled out in the Talmud and other halakhic works as learned scholars. They were considered the notable exceptions. Even though the role of these women was impressive, given the context of the times in which they lived, I was not prepared to forgo my many years of education and experience to accept a position tied to my husband’s role as rabbi without receiving recognition or compensation. Even though I have learned a great deal of Torah from my rabbi husband, most of my Torah knowledge has come as a result of my own study in a classroom or beit midrash.
The JLIC Experience
During the third year of my doctoral program in Education and Jewish Studies at NYU, my now-husband, Ben, and I made the move to Cambridge, Massachusetts, to serve as the OU JLIC (Heshe and Harriet Seif Jewish Learning Initiative on Campus) couple at Harvard Hillel. The JLIC program is a partnership between the Orthodox Union and Hillel: The Foundation for Jewish Campus Life, which brings rabbinic couples to serve as educators on campus. Initially, I was intimidated to share words of Torah, to counsel, and to educate these great minds. Nervous during all the firsts—the first drasha, the first shiur, the first chavruta—I soon realized how fortunate I was to be serving in this capacity and what an impact my role had on the students and community. It is difficult to put into words the empowerment I experienced delivering a drasha, seeing both men and women listening and questioning the lessons I drew from the week’s parsha. It is difficult to express the vibrancy in the room as I watched the eyes of the audience attending a woman speaking from the pulpit. I felt both challenged and motivated by the difficult questions students asked regarding gender in Orthodoxy and other complicated topics. I was extremely grateful for the ability to make an impact on the community, but, more important, for the impact that the community and my position had on my personal growth and development.
The engagement and empowerment I felt during the first two years of my employment was undercut by a change in policy that came into effect just before I gave birth. During my ninth month of pregnancy, Harvard Hillel instituted a new policy vis-à-vis babies, whereby my future child would not be allowed to enter the Hillel building. I applaud the OU for its strong efforts to assist me in dealing with this situation, but under pressure of the time constraints of our impending birth, we had to settle for a policy whereby my child would not enter the building between 9:00 am and 5:00 pm. This policy was in direct contradiction to one of the main stated objectives of our job description: to model Jewish family life on campus. Indeed, Harvard Hillel is the only partnering Hillel among the fifteen JLIC campuses throughout North America to institute this policy.
The policy proved detrimental to our ability to perform our jobs. The issue of parental leave policies and flexible work arrangements is one for men and women alike. To make Jewish communal leadership positions truly accessible to women, work environments need to adapt to the reality that many men and women have families to care for. After having left the campus, I was not sure who was most missed: Ben, myself, or adorable Yehuda.
This situation motivated my husband and me to leave Cambridge and look for a new position, despite the strong connection we still felt with the Harvard Hillel community. Nevertheless, I must acknowledge the groundbreaking nature of the JLIC program. It recognizes the need for both men and women to serve as leaders and role models for college students. In this model, the women who have the opportunity to exercise leadership must be married to rabbis. Despite this limitation, I believe it is a vast improvement over the rebbetzin model of the past.
Recruiting for Yeshivat Maharat
I completed my Ph.D. at NYU as I began a new position at Yeshivat Maharat. I believe that Yeshivat Maharat is the model of the future: training women to serve as spiritual, halakhic, and pastoral leaders on their own merits.
In my role as director of recruitment, I look for women who are passionate, committed, personable, and dedicated to learning. Yeshivat Maharat is the only institution in the world that prepares women for the many challenges faced by clergy. Maharat prepares students to be there for constituents when they have a question about kashrut in the kitchen, when they are ecstatic yet overwhelmed about an upcoming marriage, when mourning the loss of a loved one, or when struggling in a failing marriage. Maharat equips students for the technical halakhic questions and for the emotional highs and lows that occur during times of smachot (happy occasions) and tzarot (sad occasions).
Women are recruited for the yeshiva using social media tools, including Facebook and emails. I travel to college campuses and summer camps to spread the word about Yeshivat Maharat and to make individual connections to young adults who are choosing their career paths. I want perspective candidates to know that this is a viable, rewarding, and also challenging career. The best marketing tool for recruitment is the women who attend the yeshiva. They live the mission and the vision of the yeshiva. Their speaking and teaching opportunities are publicized in the e-mails sent by the yeshiva, and Yeshivat Maharat is always mentioned in their bios. The 100 percent placement rate of the first class underscores the need for the school and the recognized value of its graduates in serving am Yisrael.
Leadership as a Halakhic Obligation
As part of my recruitment pitch, I have delivered a shiur for the college students titled “Ms. President: The Halakhic Obligation for Women to Serve the Jewish Community in the Public Sphere.” The shiur traces the history of the halakhic development of women and limmud Torah. It begins with the earliest Mishnaic source, Rabbi Eliezer, quoted in Sotah 20a as saying that teaching one’s daughter Torah is as if you taught her “tiflut” (immorality or triviality). The shiur concludes with modern poskim (decisors) who require women to learn Torah. For example, Rabbi Israel Meir Kagan (the Hafetz Hayyim) endorsed Sarah Schenirer’s Bais Yaakov school2 and clearly stated that it was a mitzvah to teach Torah to women in our times.3 In another time and place, Rabbi Mayer Twersky explained that Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik had asserted that even the study of Oral Torah is obligatory in today’s world.4
The same reasons that halakha now requires women to study Torah are why the halakha should also require or at least encourage women to serve as communal leaders. Women today are as knowledgeable, talented, and welltrained as men, and currently exercise leadership in their careers and in the general community. Our communities suffer when we do not ensure that half of our population is fully engaged, contributing to and benefiting from all that serving the Jewish people has to offer. The need for women to serve as leaders is no longer a question; it is a reality. Although the modes of leadership may vary depending on the norms and comfort levels of the community, I believe that it is critical for every Jewish community to have women exercising leadership. Whether in a yeshivish community, a Chabad community, or a centrist Orthodox community, although the models may differ, the need for a structure that empowers women to have a key seat at the table and to be active partners in their community is constant.