Word Prompt – SHVITZ – Anat Coleman

In the summer, my clothes announce me before I speak. During the winter, everyone is wearing a hat. Difference disappears beneath coats. I don’t stand out. Then summer arrives.

As temperatures climb, the city seems to shed layers. Shorts appear. Tank tops emerge. I remain covered. And start to shvitz.

What surprises me each year is not the sweating. It's the visibility. My clothing can feel like a declaration. Before I say a word, strangers know something about me. I stand out this season.

Some days I am proud of that visibility. Other days I am simply aware of it as I shvitz. What does it mean to belong to a tradition? What does it mean to carry it publicly? How much discomfort is meaningful, and how much is simply discomfort?

As sweat gathers beneath a collar or jacket, these questions can feel less philosophical than practical.

By August, I often find myself envying the apparent ease of everyone around me. Yet I also recognize that the very thing making me conspicuous is connecting me to something larger than myself. The clothes are not merely clothes. They are a commitment.

Summer makes that commitment harder; I notice it most when I am shvitzing.