Over the years, I have been asked more times than I care to remember: “are you just a mom?”. And then when Daniel became a rabbi as a second career, I started to be asked a follow up question: “are you just a Rebbetzin?”
“I’m not a ‘just’”, I would scream in my head!
“But what if I were a ‘just’?”
“So what if I’m a ‘just’?”
“Who’s asking?”
“What’s it your business?”
“Were you raised in a barn?”
“Where is your mother?”
This rapid-fire, internal dialogue goes off like lightning inside my head. All one sees on the outside is a sputtering, non-verbal, deer-in-the-headlights type of look, combined with skin that has the audacity to turn bright red no matter what emotion I’m feeling. All of these external indicators confirm that I am in fact a ‘just’ because on top of everything I don’t do, I was – and also am – an ineffectual communicator who will never succeed in the ‘real world’ as I can’t even answer this simple question: am I or am I not a ‘just’.
Let’s start with the word just or the Hebrew rak (meaning only or just). These words are diminishing words, they are the ‘less-than’ words, the not-very-much words; the words that make one feel small, words that in fact do hurt in ways that sticks and stones never could.
I have thought about the word just a lot since becoming a Rebbetzin, but long before I was ‘just’ a Rebbetzin, I was ‘just’ a mom. I could do here what most people tend to do when having this conversation: list all that is entailed in the mom “job” or in the Rebbetzin “job.” And though that is a rebuttal, and a good one at that, I would rather explore why society has turned foundational roles that ensure societal continuity and cohesion into diminished roles that require nothing more than a body present. Whether the body is animated or not seems to be of little value to those asking the question.
The word just isn’t actually about the role itself; it’s about a very specific, very Western worldview that sees worth through the lens of public accomplishment, certifications, professional degrees and achievements, diplomas of higher education and titled positions. The minute someone is a ‘just’ it becomes a form of apology for lacking these exterior confirmations and validations of accomplishment. Women in particular seem to absorb language that reduces their own complex and, let us not forget, essential roles. The roles of mother and, by extension, Rebbetzin, require the position holder to do not a tremendous amount to receive the title, but from that moment on and every day most probably for the rest of their lives, they will have to work endlessly and tirelessly to be the ‘just’ a mother or ‘just’ a Rebbetzin.
Perhaps this is the opposite of the degree, the diploma, the academic achievement. For those, one works to attain the piece of paper, the ordination and in some cases adulation, but once achieved, many of these don’t require all that much constant work on the other side. Graduate university with a degree, and the degree is yours whether you choose to use it or not. Walk out of the hospital with a new baby in your arms, and God willing you are its mother for the rest of your life. There is no real break, no hiatus, no vacation from motherhood.
The work of mothers and to some extent Rebbetzins centres around being present, being caregivers, being listeners, being teachers, being givers. These roles – this “being” – do not have measurable KPIs. The results cannot be quantified. This is work that does not shape systems; rather, these roles shape human beings.
Prior to the Industrial Revolution there was no concept of a “stay at home mother” as a separate identity from a productive member of society. And then after World War II, with the rise of the suburban nuclear family, paid employment became the primary measure of social value. Paid jobs came to equate “real work,” and staying at home was seen as a leisure activity.
The feminist movement in fact made the situation worse and not better for the women who were home raising their children and looking after their families. It taught that work outside the house was a symbol of equality and empowerment, and work inside the house became associated with limitation, lack of ambition and even oppression. Don’t get me wrong, the feminist movement did much for women and moved us forward towards equality in ways I’m the beneficiary of now, but in some cases it actually played into erasing the value of mothers and their role.
In Western Jewish communities where upward mobility is the norm, our values became tied to education but also to professional identities, public leadership and achievements that could be easily enumerated and displayed. Once more, the mother role was devalued.
Without the “just” roles society does not function – the “just” a plumber, “just” a bus driver, “just” a grocer, “just” a delivery person, “just” a sanitation worker, “just” a Rebbetzin. These are people we take for granted, but what is our society without them? And even more so, how does humanity continue without “just” a mom? Society celebrates and ascribes value to the visible and titled few, while in truth society is dependent on the invisible “just’s.”
In recent years I have seen and felt a shift – the beginning of an acknowledgement that there is no such thing as “just” a mother – and in my work I am trying to eradicate the concept of “just” a Rebbetzin, though I have a ways to go. Some people just get it, especially those who feel they have been the beneficiary of the Rebbetzin in some way. Others see it as a title given based on being married to the rabbi, with the assumption that the holder of the title has done nothing to earn it or maintain it. This, though, is a discussion for another day.
For today I leave you with this bit of advice: if you or someone you know has ever been asked if they are “just” a mom, the answer should be, “Were you raised by ‘just’ a mom?” Hopefully that should stop them in their tracks.
To mothers everywhere – including myself, I congratulate you and celebrate you. You are not a ‘just’. You are a MOM, the very foundation on which everything else in this world stands.
New Recipe: Chermoula Chicken with Potatoes and Tomatoes
As we are truly on our last day in Israel before our new adventure starts, not only am I a few days late in posting a blog, I also only have one new recipe for you!
Though it’s a great one: chicken and potatoes with a Moroccan flair! Try it once, and I promise it will be your Shabbat dinner go-to, as it’s an all-in-one kind of dish. I tend to just bring it to the table in the roasting tin, saving me extra work and extra washing up at the end.