Unconventional Community

Hello, friends.

I don't know about you, but my most memorable religious experiences growing up were the ones that involved feeling like a part of a community. My family has belonged to the same synagogue since I was born, so I completely grew up there and even went to Hebrew School there until the end of high school. So when I came down to William and Mary, my initial instinct was to search out whatever ready-made Jewish community I could find down here. I attended Hillel Friday night dinners as often as I could and tried joining the Hillel softball team (that lasted about twelve seconds) during my freshman year.

But something was missing. In the midst of a very Christian-dominated campus, I felt out of place, even in the Hillel. Maybe I was just too accustomed to attending services with congregation members I had known my whole life, or maybe I just don't quite fit with the members of Hillel down here, but something didn't stick. After freshman year, I basically stopped trying to get involved in Jewish life in Williamsburg. I kind of wrote it off, figured "I'll find a synagogue later, when I'm older, when I am living out the typical Long Island suburban life and I'm surrounded by Jews." My dedication to Judaism never went away, nor my desire to learn more about my religion, but it seemed almost impossible to be a strong Reform Jew in this little Christian corner of Virginia.

That doesn't fly for me anymore. Since spending last summer in New York City with fifty other Jewish college students debating religion and life, I have discovered that I want to own my identity even more, no matter where in the world I am or for what length of time. I decided to fully participate in Yom Kippur this recent fall for the first time since high school. I let my professors know I would not be in classes, warned my roommates about the restrictions I would have for the day, and I had my parents ship down fresh NY bagels in preparation (for which they get tons of kudos). This was not about any aversion to the holiday. It was simply about my feeling of being alone, really alone, while participating at my college. But this year, my senior year, I did it anyway.

I invited seven people over to break the fast with me, and they all came. I taught these friends (none of whom are Jewish) about the religious significance of the day, and about my own personal attachment to the holiday. And every single member of our group tried (and enjoyed!) the lox. Coming ten days after this five people from this same group of friends attended the campus-sponsored Rosh Hashanah dinner with me, this experience really taught me one important thing: sometimes the community I find may not be the one I was originally searching for. This same group proved its character once again when they all attended and participated in my nightly Hanukkah candle-lighting sessions (shh, don't tell my RA) in mid-December, even lighting the candles and reading the prayers in English after I had read them in Hebrew.

Just seeing my friends come to these religious events to support me was incredible. I will continue to seek out a Jewish community wherever I end up, because there is certainly immeasurable value in shared experiences, but I do not even know if these girls realize just how much it meant that they all willingly participated in these holidays with me.

I am so thankful that I finally found my little, supportive religious community in the middle of Williamsburg, VA.

Now go out and love one another.

<3,
Allyson