Since Jewish Blogmeister indicated here (check the comments) that he won’t be interviewing any female Jbloggers, I decided to take up the gauntlet (only I don’t promise to stay on my side of the mechitza!). I started with Sephardi Lady of Orthonomics, who discusses her hobbies, the tuition crisis, abuse in our communities, borekas, and how she came to write about economics and Orthodox Jewish life. Enjoy!
Sephardi Lady, for a young woman you seem to have a lot of financial know-how topped with a greater than average measure of common sense. Your blog is on countless blogrolls and is linked to constantly, and gets comments from well-known names in our community. What life experience do you bring to a discussion of economics and the Orthodox community?
While nearly all of my work experience has taken place outside of the community, I have an interest in household finance and small business that has opened my eyes and ears to issues faced in our own communities. I’ve been on a shul financial committee, so I’m aware of some of the institutional challenges out there. I’ve also helped many young people and young couples with their budgeting, taxes, and more. So between running our own household finances like a well oiled machine, and knowing a little bit about other people’s financial situations, I think that I’m sufficiently close to “the front line.”
How did you think of that clever name, “Orthonomics”?
When I finally decided to put my hat in the ring, so to speak, the name just came to me. Too bad other ideas are not so forthcoming.
What have you learned since the birth of your children?
What haven’t I learned? I think the most amazing thing about being a parent is just how deep of an emotional connection you have to your own flesh and blood. I think this took me by surprise. I really had no idea how strong that bond is, and it bring a whole new dimension to certain parts of the Torah. Another thing that I have noted is just how trying being a parent can be. There were certain bad middot that I fought with and thought that I had essentially buried, until my kids pushed the wrong buttons and I realized those middot haven’t actually been buried. Chazal tells us that it takes a lifetime to change a middah. The sages were not kidding!
How do you fit blogging and commenting on other blogs around the demands of small children?
With a new baby in the house, I’m finding it harder to fit blogging in. Plus, we’ve recently been going a lot of places: the library, the park, and the regular errands. But, I enjoy writing about issues I care about. And, when a thought comes to mind, I will type it up and find time to complete the thoughts when I’m having some “down time.” Commentings is a lot easier than blogging. I can type with one hand and tend to do so while holding the baby and serving breakfast or lunch. There aren’t too many other mothers at home. And, I guess blogging is my view into the adult world.
What other hobbies do you have, assuming you have the time?
I really enjoy cooking. It fits well into my life as a homemaker. And, my husband appreciates this hobby too. My other hobbies are a lot harder to maintain. I love athletic activity, but due to tough deliveries, I am unable to return to the level of athleticism that I would love to return to. So, while I work out, I don’t think I will be setting any records any time soon. My other hobby is playing classical piano. Here too, I have a hard time playing with the level of perfection I expect from myself. Somehow, it is difficult to play when a toddler joins in and turns the pages.
Are both you and your husband from a Sephardic tradition?
Hashem must have had us matched before birth. When I left home for the first time I found myself among Jewish peers, many of whom were Sephardi. The rationalism of the Rambam and differences in outlook regarding halacha and communal policy appealed to me; the traditions fascinated me; the decorum in the Beit Knesset impressed me; and the food, well, what can I say, a boreka beats a gefilte fish hands down. When my then shidduch date revealed to me that he was Sephardi, scared I might harbor some negative sterotypes, and I responded enthusiastically, the deal was sealed. Together, we are committed to continuing and preserving Sephardi minhag and halacha. And, I’m even looking forward to having grandchildren named after me, in my lifetime, iy”h.
You were the one who wrote the letter to Rabbi Horowitz that got an interesting discussion going about the extent of abuse in the Orthodox community. Where would you like to see the discussion go from here?
I am an action oriented person. So, ultimately, I’d like to see some action taken. And, I think that eventually action will be taken. But, G-d willing it will be taken up voluntarily, rather than forced upon the community in an embarrassing way that weakens faith in the community and its leaders.
In your opinion, what is the biggest factor in the tuition crisis? What do you think can be done to help resolve it, if possible?
Day schools and yeshivot are vital to health of the Torah community. While there are some alternatives out there for individuals (e.g. homeschooling), I don’t think there are any good alternatives for the masses. I’m afraid that we are already playing defense, but hope to see some offensive action taken.
What do you most enjoy about blogging, and what have you learned from your experience in the Jblogosphere?
Thank you for your thoughtful responses. And take it from me–stay away from those borekas 
.
I just received the following anonymous comment on my post What’s Your Excuse? Leaving children alone, revisited:
Hi. I just came across your blog by accident, but then again maybe it wasn’t an accident. I just returned from a 12 day trip to Israel with a tour group. I love Israel and the Israeli people.
While riding through Jerusalem one morning on the tour bus, I saw a lot of children walking alone. I’m assuming to school because of the backpacks they had. As the bus continued through town I remarked to my husband everytime I saw young children walking alone. Some holding on to one another, others talking carelessly and others, no more than 5 years old, walking alone. The more children I saw alone the more upset I became. At one point I thought I would cry. I even prayed for them while passing through.
I was shocked to see how young some of these children were knowing they were all alone. I don’t think I ever saw children walking with adults.
I wouldn’t think of letting my child walk alone to school everyday.It just broke my heart. It may be your custom but something I couldn’t do. I don’t understand how anyone could let their child walk through town alone. And to leave a baby in bed alone in the house…..Isn’t there a law against this. If this happened in the U.S. and you got caught you could be sent to jail. I can’t imagine leaving a baby alone in bed and leaving the house for a 20 minute trip into town to pick up another child. It just breaks my heart.
Don’t you have more love for a child than that? Is this your custom? Do all parents and sitters do this?
Concerned in the U.S.
[edited for spelling]
Dear Anonymous,
First of all, let me assure you that what you saw is a cultural phenomenon that has absolutely nothing to do with Judaism. There are several reasons for it.
1) Israel is considered safe for children. True, there is a level of false security as we unfortunately have our share of pedophiles, rapists and of course terror attacks, not to mention traffic accidents, but kidnappings and abductions are virtually unheard of. I myself regularly walk alone at night, which I never did comfortably in the midwestern city where I grew up. When I am in the mall I need to watch my children to be sure they don’t get lost or go up the escalator alone, but I don’t have to hold their hands tightly for fear that they will wander off, be picked up by strangers and never be seen again. Of course there is a risk but not to the same degree.
2) Parents need to leave for work before the children leave for school, and because it is “safe” they go by themselves. Many children also take school busses.
3) In many communities the age at which children are entrusted with younger siblings is appallingly low. I have heard of 5 year olds sent to bring two and three year olds home from the bus stop. Because of the large number of closely spaced children in some communities, this has become an accepted norm there.
Thanks for inspiring me to do a little research. The website of Beterem, an organization dedicated to child safety, states that under Israeli law, children under the age of six may not be left alone. In the US and Canada, the minimum age is 10-13. Beterem is trying to have the law changed and recommends not leaving children alone under the age of 12. (Unfortunately the website is only in Hebrew.) That babysitter was breaking the law by leaving the baby alone (by the way, the kindergarten is half a block from the child’s home so we are talking 5-10 minutes, not that that excuses anything). Beterem also recommends that children be at least nine years old before being allowed to cross streets and walk to school alone. For what it’s worth, in my neighborhood, most children under 9 are either brought home by a parent or babysitter or attend an afterschool program.
Israel sees itself as a child-loving society, and the birth rate is much higher than in Europe and even the US. Even many secular Jews have three children or more. I have written other posts about whether Israel truly values its children:
Home Alone
Leaving Children Alone
Does Israel Support Family Values?
Women’s Hospital Center Devalues Mothers
Thank you for visiting both Israel and the blog, and for your comments and your concern for our children.
Thanks to Soccer Dad for tagging me for Irina’s Menorah Meme. Since we’re Israeli we’ll call it the Chanukiah Meme, even though Chanukiah is a made-up word that doesn’t really mean anything.
Because we light a lot of chanukiot at our house, we are always having trouble figuring out where to put them so they can be seen from the outside. My 5yo made a chanukiah in gan out of miniature colored popsicle sticks. The picture at the top shows what it looks like after my toddler got hold of it. The problem with the gan chanukiot is that they use shallow cups, and the only way to light them is to “glue” the candles in with melted wax. The candles still fall over and make for a very frustrated kid, not to mention a fire hazard. So my very accommodating child made do with a simple tin one, also above, which we place on his convenient, practical, and decorative chanukiah mat.
Below is the chanukiah my 10yo made this year:
It features a landscape of Jerusalem etched in foil, and holes skilfully dug into the wood that hold the candles fairly straight. He puts the candles in foil to prevent the chanukiah from burning up altogether, and so far has been successful. We are sure to light this one on the outside windowsill.
My older two boys received chanukiot as Bar Mitzvah presents. Neither of my daughters chose to light this year; the little one uncharacteristically didn’t ask to (maybe she is scared?) and our 12-year-old declined this year despite our encouragement.
My husband also lights a tin one.
We feel a simple one is appropriate, as Chanukah commemorates a spiritual victory, and the halachic tradition lacks the physical “trappings” of some of the other holidays (the festive meal and gifts as on Purim, for example). We are proud to be lighting our chanukiah in the land where the miracle occurred so many generations ago.
Now, who am I going to tag on the Thursday before the shortest Friday of the year, and Chanukah at that?
Sephardi Lady, Kallah, Amishav, Safranit, Emahs, Z, Jerusalem Joe, Rafi G., and Kollel Mama.
You’re under no obligation.
Chanukah Sameach to everyone!
My five-year-old is nothing if not practical. We just had the following exchange.
Me: You have a dimple in your chin. You’re going to be very good-looking when you grow up.
Him: How will it help me see well?
Update: My friend said I needed to spell this out because she didn’t get it.
So here goes:
Me: You have a dimple in your chin. You’re going to be very good-looking when you grow up.
Him: How will it help me see well?
He wasn’t familiar with that expression, as we aren’t in the habit of talking about whether people are good-looking or not.
I was happy to discover that I am not the only adult in Israel who never learned how to ride a bicycle. I’m even happier to find out that it’s never too late. One teacher said his oldest student was 70.
There are only a few places where hesitant adults can learn to ride. One teacher is Yossi Kat. “The problem with those who didn’t learn to ride as kids is that the self-confidence and fearlessness of kids disappears with age,” he says. “The result is that an adult is afraid, embarrassed, sometimes lacks coordination and physical fitness and is certain that the only thing that awaits him when he gets on a bike is a painful fall.”
I hope I get around to it before my knees go. . .
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