There's No Such Thing as a Good Stereotype

By Susan Esther Barnes

A friend of a friend recently made a couple of comments on Facebook, saying that Jews are good with money and with numbers.

My response to him was, "Maybe you meant your comments about money and numbers as a compliment, but promoting sterotypes about any group is neither accurate nor helpful, IMHO."

He then said, "Promoting sterotypes is different than accepting them. Why fight something that is sterotypically good instead of accepting it? Hebrew language is based on numbers as well so mathmatics and language are taught from a young age, there is nothing wrong with it. IMHO."

Unfortunately, Facebook isn't a good place to have a discussion like this. A blog isn't either, really, but at least it's a place where I have the room to set out my thoughts on the subject.

I will start by agreeing that there is nothing wrong with teaching math and language from a young age. In fact, as far as I know, in most countries and cultures both of these things are taught from a young age. Everyone learns language, certainly, and most school-age children have at least some basic math skills. There is nothing special about Jews teaching these things to kids.

There are, however, several problems with repeating stereotypes of any kind, including those that may sound, on the surface, to be positive.

First of all, stereotypes are generalizations placed upon groups of people, and as such, they are inaccurate. If you take a random group of Jews, you will find some who are great with money and numbers, some who are terrible at them, and some who are somewhere in between. The same would be true of any random group of people from any religion or country.

Add to this the fact that many people were not born Jewish, but joined us through conversion. Do you think something in the conversion process suddenly makes these Jews better at numbers and math than they used to be? Is there something magical about learning Jewish history, traditions and rituals that imparts these skills upon converts? I think not.

Second, when people say Jews are good with money, this often refers to all sorts of other, less benign-sounding sterotypes. For instance, people say Jews will try to bargain you down on prices, they say Jews will try to cheat you in financial situations, they say Jews will charge you interest rates that are too high, they say Jews run the banks in this country, etc. Like the stereotype of "good with money," some of these things may be true of some Jews, but they are untrue of the majority of us.

Third, sterotypes like these can be demeaning. If I am Jewish and I am good with numbers, by applying this sterotype to me you are insulting me. You are saying that my years of studying, my hard work, my hours spent doing homework and memorizing multiplication tables don't matter. You are saying my skill with numbers is not due to my hard work and diligence, but is rather simply a product of my religion or perhaps my genes. This kind of thinking causes resentment when a Jewish person does better than a Gentile in math classes. It is the kind of thinking that can lead to antisemitism.

Further, if I am Jewish and I am not good at math or numbers, you are telling me I am flawed. Gentiles can be bad at these things, but if I am Jewish and I am bad at them, there is something fundamentally wrong with me. You are telling me I am not, truly, one with my own people. I am, in your mind, an outlier, unusual, not okay.

Fourth, there are Jewish laws about lashon hara, the "evil tongue." The Chafetz Chaim, a great scholar of lashon hara, said that not only should we not say bad things about people in public, we should not say good things about them in public either. That is because saying something good may prompt someone else to say something bad.

For instance, if I say, "Isn't Betty's dress lovely today?" someone else might say, "Yes, usually she looks like such a slob." Similarly, if you say, "Jews are good with money," it might prompt someone else to say, "Yeah, that's how they got away with all those mortgage scams."

So please, dispense with the stereotypes. I am, like you, an individual. Please have the courtesy to try to see me as I am, not as you think people like me ought to be. And I promise, I will try to do the same with you.

Discovering Meaning in Ritual

By Susan Esther Barnes

Often, when I hear people say they are not religious, or they want to explain why they don’t come to services more often, they say they’re not interested in meaningless ritual. That sentiment is certainly something we have in common! What is implied, however, is that they find most, if not all, ritual to be meaningless. I would argue this is a misconception.

Ritual is so much a part of our lives, it’s easy not to recognize it for what it is. Ritual, and its inherent meaning, is more easily recognized when it stops, because that is when you miss it.

For example, I’m one of those people who can’t sleep through the night without having to get up at least once or twice. When my husband and I were first married, every time I crawled back into bed I would find a piece of him – a hand, his head, whatever – sticking out from under the covers, and kiss it.

Then came one very cold night. When I got back into bed, I saw he had the covers pulled up over his head. There was no skin sticking out anywhere at all. I didn’t want to lift the covers off of him to find a place to kiss, because I didn’t want the cold air to rush in and wake him up. “He’s asleep anyway,” I thought, “It’s not like he’s even aware I’ve been doing this.” So I lay down to go to sleep.

Suddenly, I heard a drowsy voice beside me saying, “What, no kiss?” To my surprise, even though he had never mentioned it, he had been aware of the ritual, and he missed it the first time it didn’t happen.

Similarly, most people in the US are used to receiving a cake on their birthday, as well as a chorus of people singing, “Happy Birthday to You.” If, for some reason, this doesn’t happen, most of us would feel disappointed, let down, almost as if the birthday hadn’t really happened.

This is because ritual is meaningful to us. It connects our present to our past, and to other generations. We are hard wired for it. If we don’t have enough rituals in our lives, we will invent some, whether it’s pizza every Wednesday night, or a stop by Starbucks in the morning, or whatever fits the bill.

TV producers picked up on the importance of ritual long ago, and they have never forgotten the lesson. Carol Burnett ended all of her shows by singing, “I’m so Glad We Had This Time Together.” What would the show “Good Times” have been without Jimmie Walker saying, “Kid Dy-no-mite!” or what would happen if the creators of “Survivor” suddenly decided not to snuff out a torch every time a person is voted off the island?

These actions are rituals. On the surface, they may appear to be meaningless, but we know they are not, because we would feel a sense of incompleteness, almost a sense of being cheated, if they were omitted.

Who could have predicted that a particular song, or phrase, or a snuffed torch, could become important to us? We couldn’t know for sure in advance. The first time we experienced each of these things, for most of us, they felt like no big deal. It is only through repetition and familiarity that they grew in importance and gained in meaning.

And so it is with religious ritual. It makes no sense for someone to light Shabbat candles just once and then say, “Well, that did nothing for me, so I won’t ever do it again.” It is only by repeating a ritual multiple times, giving it a chance to sink in and become a part of our lives, that we can start to discover what meaning, if any, it may have for us.

We were told on Mount Sinai, as recorded in the Torah in Sh’mot 24:7, “na’aseh v’nishma” – “We will do and we will understand.” It is the doing that comes first; the understanding doesn’t come until later. When contemplating a ritual that is new to me, I need to see how it fits, through repetition over time, before I can even begin to decide whether it is something that will have meaning for me.

After all, the first several times you try almost anything new, it’s hard not to feel self conscious and awkward. It takes time and repetition before you can relax and actually experience a new thing in its own right without having these kinds of other feelings get in the way.

And while having cake on my birthday is delicious, and seeing a torch snuffed gives me a certain sense of finality, it is only religious ritual which brings me a sense of closeness to God and to something bigger, and more universal, than I get with those secular rituals.

No, I am not interested in the least in meaningless ritual. To the contrary, since I know I’m going to have ritual in my life one way or the other, I want to find the most meaningful rituals I can. That is why I am willing to put in the time and effort to repeat new religious rituals over time, in order to discover what depth of meaning they may hold for me.