Neil Manel Frau-Cortes' blog on music, Judaism and new technologies

Archive for November, 2011

Nice work if you can get it: on placement offices.

If this crisis has taught us something, I think is has been that Jewish organizations in general are in an urgent need of reinventing themselves. I have already written here about what I perceive to be a disconnect between Jewish institutions and the real Jewish community and its needs. Federations and JCC’s, for instance, seem to be programming activities that obeyed to the needs of the Jews of previous generations, who were not allowed to join gyms and social clubs, for instance. Today, instead of changing or eliminating those outdated activities, they go crazy trying to raise money to keep the machine running. In this new post I would want to reflect on the future denominational placement offices.

For those of you not acquainted with them, I’ll tell you that every Jewish movement –including some trans-denominational clergy associations– have placement offices of their own so that they can connect their rabbis or cantors seeking a job with the congregations that belong to that movement or with those shuls that –after paying a fee– decide to list with that office. Placement offices have rules for the congregations, particularly regarding the contract details. They also have rules for the clergy: rabbis or cantors that belong to that association are not allowed to contact synagogues directly but through the office; they cannot apply for congregational jobs outside of the office’s list; they can only be officially looking for jobs after telling their current synagogue that they want to leave, etc.

Of course these rules were formulated for a particular “echo-system” where there was a balance between clergy persons looking for jobs and congregations that were hiring. However, new factors have changed this landscape. As the Jewish population is getting older and smaller, fewer synagogues can afford to hire full-time rabbis. Some of these shuls struggle to keep their doors open, and many cannot afford membership in the denomination, so they become non-affiliated. Other shuls are mere lay-led chavurot and will not hire a religious leader. Bigger synagogues that in the past had a rabbi and a cantor now need to reduce staff and they just hire a rabbi. Finally, who needs to pay a fee to placement office when any shul can advertise a rabbinical job online for free or at a very low cost? On the clergy’s side things are changing too: today there are a number of non-denominational rabbinical and cantorial schools whose graduates are not subject to any of these rules and restrictions. In the case of cantors, there is a proliferation of the so-called cantorial soloists: anybody who can play some guitar and lead a service can fill cantorial positions, and they often do it for a lower salary or even as volunteers. The rabbinical and cantorial schools of all movements are graduating more people that needed. Some schools try to derive new graduates to non-congregational positions such as chaplancy, teaching or social activism, even if the salaries in these positions are so low that make very difficult to pay-off the student loans.

Although some placement offices may be aware and concerned for these changing circumstances, many others seem to prefer to dwell in the golden past. Their job –they tell you– is not to recruit new synagogues looking for rabbis and cantors, but to put both parties in touch and to oversee the process. We may be failing to see that in the current market situation, the hiring process often happens out of circuit and with no supervision. And yet, what are placement offices doing to enlarge their listings? In a world where congregations can list whenever they please, with so many independent seminaries and private ordinations, and even with non-denominational label becoming an added value, how are we going to maintain denominational placement offices?

Again, I don’t have an easy solution but I think that if we do not talk about the elephant in the room then the necessary brain-storming to solve the situation just can’t happen. If there will still be denominational placement offices in the future, they will have to learn to reinvent themselves. For one, we may have to acknowledge that monopolistic practices are a thing of the past. On the other hand, offices have to invest on staff that will bring about a more aggressive and effective marketing to increase the number of participating synagogues. One of the keys for “selling their product” would be rethinking what makes the denomination, movement or association unique. What can they offer their “clients” that they will not get elsewhere? Yes, there are many rabbis and cantors, but are they all from accredited schools? All rabbis have some sort of smicha, all cantors know some nusach, but have they received a solid pastoral training? What is the added value of having a Reconstructionist cantor or rabbi? What makes us unique?

Advertisements

Many ways of being Jewish: the danger of co-optation.

Not so long ago I watched a Youtube video featuring a religious service.  It was a multitudinous celebration of the festival of sukkot. There were hundreds of smiling faces happily singing and clapping to some Jewish tune of Hasidic inspiration. Some of them wore kippot and flied Israeli flags. Everything very Jewish at first sight… except for a number of banners with crosses and the name “Jesus” written in bright colored letters. Of course I was not surprised: this kind of celebrations are no news to me. I was rather amazed and intrigued at my own first reaction of rebuke. Those people where not pretending to be Jewish, but rather using our symbols for their purpose, assigning them a very different and almost opposite meaning. I felt co-opted.

Co-optation is almost synonymous with appropriation. It designates the action of taking or assuming something for your own use. It often points to a tactic by which an opponent is neutralized by absorption. Sociologists talk about co-optation when a minority is taken over and assimilated to the established main culture. As Jews, it is normal for us to feel uneasy when we perceive that we are object of cultural co-optation. I think that this is an important factor of our visceral reaction to the so-called messianic Jews, people who celebrate the external aspects of our culture only to appropriate these symbols with the firm intention of “perfecting” us so we can finally cease to exist as a minority and be part of their cultural and religious collective. Co-optation is even more aggressive when a majority is not so open to diversity, when they think that their culture is superior or better than yours. This is exactly what we have done to Native Americans and Pennsylvania-dutch speakers, or what Spain does to Catalans. Reverting this path to assimilation is not impossible but you will need a critical mass and an enormous determination.

However, co-optation happens also among us, sometimes inadvertently, and it is more difficult to detect.  It is bad enough when people co-opt our identity, but it’s really bad when we accept this appropriation without questioning. It dawned on me on my first week working at a Jewish day school. Conservative Jews constitute the majority of students now but there is an  important contingent of Orthodox faculty and students. A couple of non-Orthodox kids asked me: “Cantor Frau, are you religious?” This was kind of shocking to me: how can a Jewish clergy person be non-religious? It took me a minute to realize that, in their minds, the kids reserved the term “religious” for Orthodox Jews. Yes, I wear a kippah, speak Hebrew with the kids and some see me leading services and leyning, but my long hair and colorful shirts are not frum, not “religious.” This use of the term “religious” to mean Orthodox most probably started with the Orthodox kids, but was quickly adopted and endorsed by the rest of Jews, children and adults equally.

Why is this relevant and why should we care? By accepting the Orthodox co-optation of the word “religious” you are tacitly admitting that only people from this denomination are really religious. The rest of us are fake, inauthentic, not real Jews. Should I had accepted my students calling me non-religious, I would have reaffirmed the idea that their own Judaism, what they see at their progressive shul, is not good enough, not authentic. I will never be able to change the Orthodox kids’ lingo, but at least I will teach all of them that calling a committed progressive Jew “non-religious” is indeed insulting.

This prejudice is everywhere and most of us are liable of buying into this co-optation. A couple of days ago I was reading a post on Facebook that contained a link to a video by FrumSatire, an Orthodox stand-up comedian to whose videos I confess to be subscribed. It made fun of some absurd misconceptions of  “our non-Jewish/secular friends” regarding kosher food. Do you see the problem? FrumSatire and a number of his viewers put non-Jews and secular Jews (that’s anybody who is not frum according to their definition) on the same level, assuming we don’t know a thing about kashrut and that we don’t care either. See, all these committed progressive Jews you know who are shomrei shabbat and keep kosher… they do not really count.

In my opinion, a good part of the Orthodox animadversion for other Jews comes from lack of first-hand knowledge of who we are. Unfortunately, we are all too quick to take stereotypes on face value and assume way too much. Last week a young lady was telling me how she met a person at the JCC and they started dating. Pretty soon she was horrified to discover that her new partner was “one of these Jewish lefties,” label she used to classify non-Orthodox Jews.  After a while she discovered that the differences between them were less than she thought. What is more, while remaining Orthodox she begun to enjoy exploring those “lefty things” that, far from being a secular trap to lead people astray, were spiritually enriching.

Next time you try to use “religious” to mean “Orthodox” –or next time you hear somebody doing it– think twice and take action. Yesh yoter mi derekh echad li-hiyot Yehudi. This well-known bumper sticker should be engraved in our minds: there is more than one way of being Jewish. We often feel like throwing this phrase on the face of those who do not consider our Judaism as valid. But how about stepping to the other side? How do you feel about Jews from other groups and denominations? Do you frown at Orthodox or Reform Jews? Do you consider Renewal or Reconstructionist Jews inauthentic? How do you feel about queer Jews? And about black or Asian Jews? And about Jews by choice?