Dear Mrs. Bluth,
I am writing to you in a state of complete disbelief at what I witnessed a few hours ago. I feel that it was a sad example of the sinas chinam that has infected Klal Yisroel and it leads to chilul Hashem, which compels me to write to you.
It is no secret that there is a caste system in our community, in which men are superior beings accorded preferential treatment over women, who are dealt with as second-tier citizens. On the street women must move out of the way to let men pass, even if it means having to step off the sidewalk into the street with a baby carriage and risk the perils of oncoming cars. I’ve gotten used to sitting in the back of the bus so that the men can have the front rows. I’ve even stopped expecting help from a man in case of an emergency, as I once saw an elderly woman fall on a snow bank and tumble into the street as a young man passed her by, not even offering her a hand, as cars swerved to avoid hitting her. She could have been run over and killed had not a grocery store worker run to her aid, while one of our own just stood and stared, because he didn’t want to touch a woman. Where is the mitzvah of ahavas Yisroel? Was not the act of saving that woman’s life more important than this tzaddik‘s piety?
To add insult to injury, last week as I drove to a neighboring community for a doctor’s appointment, I spotted a car pulling out of a prime parking spot right in front of the building. I pulled up just enough to jockey myself into position to back into it and began the maneuver when a yungerman nosed his minivan into the spot I was in the process of backing into. There we both stood at a stalemate, he thinking I would eventually give up and leave him the spot, and I refusing to give in to his chutzpah. Horns started blaring and a crowed gathered as the man got out of his car yelling and cursing me in Yiddish until someone called the police. The police came and I explained that I was backing into the spot before this guy came and decided that his name was on the curb and he was entitled to it. The officer took one look and said it was very obvious who was rightfully entitled to the spot and told the man to leave and stop blocking traffic or he would get a ticket. With such hate in his eyes, and more cursing under his breath, he reluctantly pulled away as the officer watched, and then, he too left. Feeling vindicated, I turned to get back into my car when some women in the crowd yelled at me for making a chillul Hashem and said I should have given up the spot to the man.
I can’t tell you how quickly that feeling of vindication changed to disgust and dismay at the sense of entitlement allowed the men-folk in our community even when it is not just and demeaning to women. Why must women always be the ones to give in and give up, even when justice is on their side, whenever the men demand it?
Dear Friend,
Funny you should mention your episode with the parking altercation because I certainly can relate to it. A few years ago I had the very same thing happen to me, drawing a sidewalk crowd who sided with the guy who wanted to usurp my rightful parking spot. A patrol car stopped to see what the problem was and the officer quickly surmised what had happened and sent the man on his way. The crowd on the sidewalk (it happened mid-day), comprised mostly of women pushing strollers, yelled at me for the crime of defending my right to park where this man decided it was his right over mine, and said I should know better. Know better? I know that when something belongs to someone else it is not mine to take! I know that derech eretz is something that should be accorded to everyone, be he man or woman. I was already over half an hour late to my appointment and didn’t care to waste another second trying to convince the audience at large that the entertainment, as far as I was concerned, was now over.
As for the first part of your disappointment, about the lady who fell in the street and the young man who would not help her up, all I can say is that I fully understand why Moshiach is waiting. Where is the ahavas Yisrael and the derech eretz kodma l’Torah? Hashem’s love for us is measured by our love for each other and nothing less will do. So, in answer to your implied question, sadly, I have no answer. The only consolation I can come up with is that the number of selfish and uncaring people amongst us is small and includes both men and women. Let’s hope that all those who recognize themselves in this category take the initiative to change for the better and become more aware of their actions.
*****
Dear Mrs. Bluth,
Thank you so much for printing the letter from the brave young woman who was abused by her boss (1/1/16). Years ago, I, too, was assaulted on the job and have lived with thoughts of suicide. The difference between her story and mine is that I was a young, trusting bachur just out of yeshiva. My parents were sure that they had gotten me a job with “heimishe” people who were spoken of in glowing terms. My father, a”h, viewed this as an opportunity for me to learn about business from the bottom up and asked the owners to treat me like any other employee. I was given a job loading trucks alongside a bunch of rough and boorish men who viewed me as an intrusion. One night we had to work late because two trucks broke down, and I cannot go into any other details, as it is too difficult for me to discuss.
No one understood the sudden change in me, not my parents, family or friends. I stopped wanting to do almost everything I did before, dating, attending shiurim, even going to shul. I became almost reclusive and cared little about my appearance. Until my nervous breakdown. My parents had me hospitalized and, with the help of medication and psychiatric treatment, I was able to talk about what happened. That was almost thirty years ago.
My parents are both gone now and there is no one for me to associate with except my therapist and doctors and the ghosts and demons I live with every day and night. That’s why I was so elated to read that column and your response to the young lady. You see, the greatest fear I have and which I shared with no one, is that I was in some way at fault for my own destruction, that I made it happen and thus chayav meesa and would burn in Gehennom. After reading that letter and your response, I felt the choke-hold around my neck lift and thought that, perhaps, there is salvation for me also. Please tell me if this is so.
Dear Friend,
To my great sadness and surprise, I received more letters and stories from people who have experienced similar sexual abuse, many suffering long years in silence and guilt over their ordeal. So, in my reply to you, I am addressing the others as well.
I ask you to please contact a rav you trust and speak to him about your ordeal. Every case is individual and requires its own psak. Since you are under psychological care that has kept you here with us, the introduction of the missing puzzle piece from a compassionate and learned rav will ease your torment. One thing I can assure you: you were in no way complicit in the horrors perpetrated upon you. You had no part in the taking of your innocence. It was ripped away and stolen from you.
Those of you interested in the young lady’s progress: she has been in touch with a rav and I am told that each day brings her a better understanding of her innocence and a little more peace and self-forgiveness.
Editor’s note: In regards to last week’s advice about speaking to a rav – whenever there is a question of spousal abuse, one must be sure that whomever one speaks to will not feel compelled to share the information with the spouse, which could result in an escalation of the abuse.