When my mother forgets a word, she is the queen of coming up with new words. Words that would take a third National Treasure movie to fully decipher. I was talking to her yesterday, and she said this: “You know the time for los jibbities is coming up. You must be so excited!” Oh, is it time for los jibbities already? I must have missed it on my calendar. Are we celebrating something? “Of course! We should all be celebrating, shouldn’t we?” OK, so los jibbities is a happy thing. It’s not like something is giving you the heebie-jeebies, which would have been my one and only guess. “Los heebie-jeebies? Now you’re making things up...and this is my show.” You’re right. The time for los jibbities is coming up. Is this a season? “Yes, the season for love. The season for pride.” OK, los jibbities. “Yeah, sound it out.” Los…jibbities. LGBTs! “Sí, mira cuz you’re gay!” “You couldn’t just say pride season? You couldn’t just… *laughs*
People in the process of conversion to Judaism have a rough time with labels.
You’re not a goy. Maybe, you could say, in the strictest definition you are- as in not initiated in bet the Beit Din or immersed in the mikveh. But not in the social sense of being on the outside of the community, seperated from all Jewish practices until the official moment of “you’re a Jew now!” No one’s going to knock challah away from your hands because you’re cosplaying.
No. You show up to shabbats. You’re at the minyans. You’re in the community and say the brachats. You keep kosher. And maybe you’re discriminated against for being apart of this world.
You’re basically a resident, working on all the citizenship paperwork. There’s a lot to do and you feel constantly behind. But sooner or later, you find yourself living a completely Jewish life. Without the official check mark.
And when people in the community try to explain your presence, they wave their hands and nearly glitch. “Uhhhhh she’s Jewish- not Jewish, no! But working on it!”
I wouldn’t take this away for the world. It’s a long good road at the start of a lifelong journey.
But for my Jews to be? I see you in our awkward phase. Let’s take our time- we’re getting there.
I was thinking about shavuot coming up and how excited I am to eat lots of dairy... and then my stomach reminded me that I am lactose intolerant. excited to spend a night on the toilet after that ice cream I ate.