Me: Here is a fairly specific diagnosis of an issue with the "demand" for women's Gemara learning in a specific community, replete with specific evidence.
Frum men: Nuh-uh, because as a man in a yeshivish community, things aren't like that *at all*.
Of course I can be wrong. I'm wrong all the time. I never went to Stern or learned in GPATS or did any women's Gemara learning in a formal setting until last year.
But how is men's experience learning Gemara in the yeshivish world at all apposite here?
Every single thing I'm talking about--sociocultural support, infrastructural support, money-where-mouth-is support, exists in spades. (I commend to your attention the dais at the Mir dinner.) And I didn't even engage what the support looks like within the family unit.
We are talking about, in the Centrist/MO world, what it would look like to create demand for high-level women's Torah Sheb'al Peh learning.
"Lot of accountants learn Gemara without it being their job."
Yes, dear. That would be the "sociocultural" and "infrastructural" support.
In a world in which women's learning isn't spoken about that way from middle school; in which women who learn are not praised but looked askance at; in which the opportunities in high school, Israel, and beyond aren't there; in which women who learn are less-desirable shidduchim,
(Started a thread this AM and then got busy with other things. Could delete, but leaving it dangling for now.)
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The demand-side problem is whether our *community* wants women who are talmidot chachamim, and what it does, or doesn't do, to convey that message--in word, deed, and putting-money-where-mouth-is--before, during, and after college/GPATS.
Before: young men in our community know that their learning, specifically TSBP learning, is valued and encouraged. In their schools. In their shuls. In summer camps that exist specifically to encourage more learning.
Here's a thought experiment: would anyone get up and say, "The reason Orthodox Jews go to the mikvah after their menstrual periods is...." or "Haircovering is a very important mitzvah for married Jewish people...."?
How is that at all different than "The reason Jews wear tzitzit" or "getting an aliyah is an important marker of communal participation"?
Hint: it isn't.
It's only our differential comfort with treating women vs. men as default Orthodox Jews.
And how on earth did my call for not using language that treats men as the default/all Orthodox Jews, and forgetting that half of the Jewish people, more or less, aren't men, be read by some as a call for women's aliyot?
Scott Kahn is a thoughtful person who is trying to bring important conversations into the Orthodox community, and Rav Yoni is a leading voice on mental health issues in Orthodoxy. But the first 8 minutes made clear that this is not something I choose to subject myself to.
Let's play a game: spot the problem. (All transcriptions my own):
Scott: "You can be a full member of our shul, you can daven for the amud, you can get an aliyah--there is no difference between you and any other congregant."
R' Feivel Cohen was niftar today. Most of the frum world's mourning is for the author of the Badei HaShulchan, an indispensable work for those studying halakha.
But I and my siblings, individually and together, are remembering and mourning him as our shul rav growing up. Being in his shul, with everything that meant, watching our father's interactions with Rav Feivel and Rav Feivel's interactions with us, profoundly shaped who were are.
My father practiced aseh lecha rav seriously, and that meant he sought out a rav whom he could look to as a serious posek and Torah figure. And so we hiked 20 minutes across Flatbush to get to shul (24, S &T to Ocean, N & O) every Shabbos.
Yesterday, my school held a combination Rosh Chodesh chagiga/Simcha Leiner concert/Hachnasat Sefer Torah.
It was beautiful, it was a lot, the school smelled like a locker room for the rest of the day.
The family dedicating the Torah danced with the Torah--the father and sons, the mother and the daughter.
Students and teachers on the men's side danced with the Torah, as did students and teachers on the women's side.
To my colleague Rabbanit Lisa Schlaff and I, it was powerful and moving that women who teach Torah dancing with girls who learn Torah as they all sing:
מָה־אָהַ֥בְתִּי תוֹרָתֶ֑ךָ כׇּל־הַ֝יּ֗וֹם הִ֣יא שִׂיחָתִֽי