{"id":74,"date":"2017-05-04T17:08:25","date_gmt":"2017-05-04T17:08:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-teaching-autoethnography\/chapter\/shomer-nagia\/"},"modified":"2017-05-04T18:10:37","modified_gmt":"2017-05-04T18:10:37","slug":"shomer-nagia","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/courses.lumenlearning.com\/suny-teaching-autoethnography\/chapter\/shomer-nagia\/","title":{"raw":"Shomer Nagia","rendered":"Shomer Nagia"},"content":{"raw":"
\r\n\r\nI don\u2019t touch boys now. Not because they have cooties or anything, but more accurately I do. Trying to explain Jewish law to someone in only English is like, well, saying I have cooties. At least no one is going to ever date me for all of the hot sex we have. Or at least that\u2019s the case now, I definitely wasn\u2019t like that in junior year of high school, maybe I am like this because of my experience in my junior year in high-school.\r\n\r\n\u201cI am scared of him,\u201d I admitted to pre-clown-punk Leor, my school-bus companion and greatest school friend on the school bus two days after I broke up with him, \u201cI don\u2019t know why, something makes me uneasy.\u201d It was a wet cloudy November day, I could feel the wheels skid over leftover fallen leaves from the fall, nearly losing control. I loved this weather, the drowsy ambiance giving more space for my manic enthusiasm. When he asked me out, my first thought was \u201cyeah, sure, why not?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYou\u2019re being overdramatic,\u201d smirked my brother, always assuming the best of people, always amused by my skepticism and neurotic paranoia, \u201che lives in Chicago, it\u2019s not like he\u2019s going to come here and hurt you.\u201d Daniel was always so uncomfortable with the idea of anyone doing anything badly, he refused to imagine a world where people would hurt others intentionally. It got him in a lot of trouble, I was always there to get him out of it.\r\n\r\nI touched my newly shorn hair. I cut it with arts and crafts scissors after he hung up, looking blankly at the mirror as the long strands of split ends from the sixten years of growing my hair out fell to the ground. It tickled my shoulders, my hairdresser of a mother tearing up as she straightened up my raggedy hair that she insisted upon keeping long for so many years. She admitted that it looked healthy when she was done. But doing something spontaneous in a bout of emotional intensity is just something high-school me did. It took me two weeks to get over him. People telling me that my hair looked beautiful short, that I looked more like myself, was comforting.\r\n\r\nHe kept on texting me, saying he was sorry\u2014that he misses me; that I shouldn\u2019t make promises that I cannot keep. As I cried in the library, my very happily not single friend looked upon me sympathetically, not knowing what to say. When he asked me out, my first thought was \u201cyeah, sure, why not?\u201d His voice in my head was calling me a cold-hearted bitch from that night\u2014his dad was sick, he was really depressed those past few weeks. A greasy feeling of unease followed me around like a cloud of exhaust smoke, if only I was brave enough to look up.\r\n\r\nThe Jewish concept\/law is called shomer nagia. <\/i>It\u2019s a sign of being \u201creally religious,\u201d because who would give up on cuddling, hand holding, and holding other things? When a woman has her period and the seven days after that, she is ritually impure. To get rid of this ritual impurity one must immerse themselves in mikvah <\/i>water, which is unfiltered rainfall or a natural flowing source of water. During her time of ritual impurity, a man may not touch her because she is in the niddah<\/i> state. But here\u2019s the catch\u2014you can\u2019t go to the mikvah <\/i>until you are about to get married because sex was created not just for pleasure but to: a\u2014create a closeness that only exists between two partners for life, and b\u2014create a family. So therefore, you cannot touch anyone of the opposite sex until you get married. And people wonder why religious people get married so young.\r\n\r\nI wish I was shomer <\/i>long before the age of eighteen when I took it upon myself, but rather the traditional 13, the year that a Jewish child comes of age. And I wished for it so many times before I did it, every time after I was with some guy and didn\u2019t feel any greater about myself afterward. But on most days I would arrogantly say, \u201cthat\u2019s so not realistic.\u201d It\u2019s weird to know that something you are doing is not right for you, but not knowing how to do teshuva, <\/i>a return to God, a repentance to your soul for letting your body win.\r\n\r\nI couldn\u2019t sleep in my bed after I broke up with him, maybe it was because of his few visits to my house, when we would do what teenagers do when they are alone at home. He is six feet and four inches tall, an athlete. We met in a summer program. When he asked me out, my first thought was \u201cyeah, sure, why not?\u201d He was loud, sociable and had a way of talking\u2014like his tongue was a knife. Green slits of eyes, always peering around to make sure he was the strongest person in the room, he was on crew. You quit when you found out your dad was sick again.\r\n\r\nThe thing that I like about shomer nagia <\/i>is that it\u2019s about taking something mundane like touching someone and makes it into something holy. Holiness is a form of romanticism, and we romanticize touching someone\u2014so it was just a thought shift really. Also, I like saying I have cooties.\r\n\r\nMaybe it was a comb at a friend\u2019s house, or a pair of headphones. My library card? I rifle through my bag, my wallet. My drawers, but there\u2019s still something missing that isn\u2019t here. I feel dirty\u2014I shower, wash my body four times each shower.\r\n\r\n\u201cShut up Daniel, that\u2019s a totally legit reason to break up with someone, and you know you can always talk about it with me,\u201d Leor says kindly to me, but her eyes are alight with anger. She\u2019s my feminist friend. \u201cIt\u2019s really good you broke up with him.\u201d\r\n\r\nIn Jewish law, or halacha<\/i>, <\/i>if a woman is raped the rapist has to pay her father or husband for the damages. I don\u2019t know how this amount of money is decided but when I learned about this I thought it was awesome that an ancient culture facilitated for the victims of rape. It\u2019s funny how things change. Sexual harassment and not asking consent for anything but sex is another story. There are some things one only gets punished for in the next world.\r\n\r\nWhen he asked me out, my first thought was \u201cyeah, sure, why not?\u201d Lying on top of me, he said that we were ready to take things further. So I said no, that I am not ready. He scowled and held my hands down, kissing my neck, his scruff irritating my skin, the smell of his sweat choking me. I struggled, then I forgot how to say no. He removed my shirt, my bra; I thought I was saying no\u2014is it possible for one\u2019s thoughts to take away one\u2019s ability to speak? I wriggled underneath him, every fiber of my being screaming NO. I wish I was shomer <\/i>long before the age of eighteen when I took it upon myself, but rather the traditional thirteen, the year that a Jewish child comes of age. And I wished for it so many times before I did it.\r\n\r\nI looked away from him\u2014I could barely look at my own body in the mirror, much less let someone else look at mine. He paused to look down at my pale skin, arms draped with scars. I held back my tears, I was so scared he would not like me. He slid his sweaty palm down my body, being fourteen inches shorter and a hundred pounds lighter, there was no way I stood a chance. I looked at my door, a strong piece of wood, custom made just for my house by my father. I knew why my father was so reluctant to put on a doorknob to my door now. There is also a law forbidding two single people of the opposite sex to be together, called yichud, <\/i>singularity. I knew why that was a law at that moment, I wanted it so bad.\r\n\r\nThree weeks later he had a girlfriend, she was blonde, thin, and adorable. I was really confused how he could move on so quickly when I was still forgetting something. I cried. There\u2019s a buffer period of thirty days in halacha <\/i>from when one can go from one marriage to the next, saying you love someone forever one day to someone else the next. He made his point\u2014he won, again.\r\n\r\nIn a ketuva, <\/i>or a traditional Jewish marriage contract, one of the requirements of a husband is to sexually satisfy his wife. Yeah, that\u2019s right\u2014if a woman doesn\u2019t receive proper treatment, she is allowed to go to the Rabbinical courts and demand a get, <\/i>a divorce. Horrifyingly, the man is allowed to refuse to give her one, which gives her the halachick <\/i>status of an agunah, <\/i>a \u201cchained\u201d wife. In recent years, Rabbis have formulated a halachick <\/i>pre-nup that once signed forces the husband to accept the demand of divorce. Women will be chained no more.\r\n\r\nHis sweaty palms reached into my underwear, he growled \u201ctell me when you are done.\u201d.And after three minutes of him pretending like he knows how to stimulate a clitoris and asking me if I was done, I pulled his hand out and somehow got out from the entrapment he put me in, I guess that\u2019s just women's intuition.\r\n\r\n\u201cGo wash your hands,\u201d I said, he went to the bathroom and I composed myself. He came back in, \u201cit\u2019s getting late, you better go catch your train.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI could stay a little longer,\u201d he said, hands gripped into boulders at his sides, \u201cI\u2019ve fingered enough girls to know that they never want to return the favor.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cNext time, seriously, there\u2019s a storm coming. This is the last train, look,\u201d I pleaded, shoving my computer into his face. I wish I was shomer <\/i>long before the age of eighteen when I took it upon myself, but rather the traditional thirteen, the year that a Jewish child comes of age. And I wished for it so many times before I did it.\r\n\r\nWe walked to the station in the crisp October air, the whispers of wind caressing my face kindly. He told me he loves me and couldn\u2019t wait to see me again. For some reason I could not remember, I knew this was going to be the last time. I showered for a long time when I got home.\r\n\r\nAnd then for years, it wasn\u2019t a story to dwell upon. I didn\u2019t want to be a victim, I wasn\u2019t looking for a monetary reward for damages, I didn\u2019t want to ever see myself as chained. So it was an event that rested in the back of my mind until I met Aviva, a now good friend who was following Jewish law with so much purity and happiness I was jealous of her with every fiber of my being.\r\n\r\n\u201cOh, you know him?\u201d a newly acquainted friend of mine whispered to me, her eyes darkening, \u201chow do you know him?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWe went out for like, three months starting in summer 2011,\u201d I stumbled, \u201cit wasn\u2019t a big deal.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cDid he hurt you?\u201d She blurted, looking scandalized at her own words.\r\n\r\n\u201cI\u2026um\u2026\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cHe was dating my sister what must have been a few weeks after you guys. He was really pushy with her, always telling her what to do. He raped her, I hate him.\u201d I shook on the inside, feeling horrible for this girl I don\u2019t even know. My friend kept on talking, spilling out words she has wanted to say for a long time, as if they were perfectly ripened for this moment. How you ruined her emotionally, how she withered away and became someone else all together. It was my fault, if only I had taught him what NO means. If only I knew how to say NO at that time. \u201cBut you probably hate him more than I do.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cHe didn\u2019t rape me,\u201d I said, \u201cI ended it before he could get that far. I\u2019m really ok, I just feel terrible for your sister. I am so, so sorry.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cShe isn\u2019t shomer [nagia] <\/i>by the way, she stopped going in any direction towards religion after that.\u201d\r\n\r\nI showered for a really long time that night.\r\n
\r\n

Discussion Questions<\/h3>\r\n
    \r\n \t
  • Why would somebody want to read this piece (the \u201cWho cares?\u201d factor)?<\/li>\r\n \t
  • Can you clearly identify the author\u2019s intention for the piece?<\/li>\r\n \t
  • How well does the author support the intention of the piece? Cite specific details that support or take away from the author\u2019s intention.<\/li>\r\n \t
  • Is there information missing from this piece that would make its intention clearer? What else would you like to know?<\/li>\r\n \t
  • Does the author portray herself as a round character? How does she do this?<\/li>\r\n \t
  • Do you trust the author of this piece? Why or why not?<\/li>\r\n \t
  • How clearly does the author establish a sense of setting\/space in this piece? Cite specific details that support your claim.<\/li>\r\n \t
  • How clearly does the author establish characters other than the self in this piece? Cite specific details that support your claim.<\/li>\r\n \t
  • Did you learn anything new from reading this piece? If so, what?<\/li>\r\n \t
  • Are there particular passages with engaging language\/description that stood out to you? Describe the appeal of these passages.<\/li>\r\n \t
  • Would you read more writing from this author? Why or why not?<\/li>\r\n<\/ul>\r\n<\/div>\r\n<\/div>","rendered":"
    \n

    I don\u2019t touch boys now. Not because they have cooties or anything, but more accurately I do. Trying to explain Jewish law to someone in only English is like, well, saying I have cooties. At least no one is going to ever date me for all of the hot sex we have. Or at least that\u2019s the case now, I definitely wasn\u2019t like that in junior year of high school, maybe I am like this because of my experience in my junior year in high-school.<\/p>\n

    \u201cI am scared of him,\u201d I admitted to pre-clown-punk Leor, my school-bus companion and greatest school friend on the school bus two days after I broke up with him, \u201cI don\u2019t know why, something makes me uneasy.\u201d It was a wet cloudy November day, I could feel the wheels skid over leftover fallen leaves from the fall, nearly losing control. I loved this weather, the drowsy ambiance giving more space for my manic enthusiasm. When he asked me out, my first thought was \u201cyeah, sure, why not?\u201d<\/p>\n

    \u201cYou\u2019re being overdramatic,\u201d smirked my brother, always assuming the best of people, always amused by my skepticism and neurotic paranoia, \u201che lives in Chicago, it\u2019s not like he\u2019s going to come here and hurt you.\u201d Daniel was always so uncomfortable with the idea of anyone doing anything badly, he refused to imagine a world where people would hurt others intentionally. It got him in a lot of trouble, I was always there to get him out of it.<\/p>\n

    I touched my newly shorn hair. I cut it with arts and crafts scissors after he hung up, looking blankly at the mirror as the long strands of split ends from the sixten years of growing my hair out fell to the ground. It tickled my shoulders, my hairdresser of a mother tearing up as she straightened up my raggedy hair that she insisted upon keeping long for so many years. She admitted that it looked healthy when she was done. But doing something spontaneous in a bout of emotional intensity is just something high-school me did. It took me two weeks to get over him. People telling me that my hair looked beautiful short, that I looked more like myself, was comforting.<\/p>\n

    He kept on texting me, saying he was sorry\u2014that he misses me; that I shouldn\u2019t make promises that I cannot keep. As I cried in the library, my very happily not single friend looked upon me sympathetically, not knowing what to say. When he asked me out, my first thought was \u201cyeah, sure, why not?\u201d His voice in my head was calling me a cold-hearted bitch from that night\u2014his dad was sick, he was really depressed those past few weeks. A greasy feeling of unease followed me around like a cloud of exhaust smoke, if only I was brave enough to look up.<\/p>\n

    The Jewish concept\/law is called shomer nagia. <\/i>It\u2019s a sign of being \u201creally religious,\u201d because who would give up on cuddling, hand holding, and holding other things? When a woman has her period and the seven days after that, she is ritually impure. To get rid of this ritual impurity one must immerse themselves in mikvah <\/i>water, which is unfiltered rainfall or a natural flowing source of water. During her time of ritual impurity, a man may not touch her because she is in the niddah<\/i> state. But here\u2019s the catch\u2014you can\u2019t go to the mikvah <\/i>until you are about to get married because sex was created not just for pleasure but to: a\u2014create a closeness that only exists between two partners for life, and b\u2014create a family. So therefore, you cannot touch anyone of the opposite sex until you get married. And people wonder why religious people get married so young.<\/p>\n

    I wish I was shomer <\/i>long before the age of eighteen when I took it upon myself, but rather the traditional 13, the year that a Jewish child comes of age. And I wished for it so many times before I did it, every time after I was with some guy and didn\u2019t feel any greater about myself afterward. But on most days I would arrogantly say, \u201cthat\u2019s so not realistic.\u201d It\u2019s weird to know that something you are doing is not right for you, but not knowing how to do teshuva, <\/i>a return to God, a repentance to your soul for letting your body win.<\/p>\n

    I couldn\u2019t sleep in my bed after I broke up with him, maybe it was because of his few visits to my house, when we would do what teenagers do when they are alone at home. He is six feet and four inches tall, an athlete. We met in a summer program. When he asked me out, my first thought was \u201cyeah, sure, why not?\u201d He was loud, sociable and had a way of talking\u2014like his tongue was a knife. Green slits of eyes, always peering around to make sure he was the strongest person in the room, he was on crew. You quit when you found out your dad was sick again.<\/p>\n

    The thing that I like about shomer nagia <\/i>is that it\u2019s about taking something mundane like touching someone and makes it into something holy. Holiness is a form of romanticism, and we romanticize touching someone\u2014so it was just a thought shift really. Also, I like saying I have cooties.<\/p>\n

    Maybe it was a comb at a friend\u2019s house, or a pair of headphones. My library card? I rifle through my bag, my wallet. My drawers, but there\u2019s still something missing that isn\u2019t here. I feel dirty\u2014I shower, wash my body four times each shower.<\/p>\n

    \u201cShut up Daniel, that\u2019s a totally legit reason to break up with someone, and you know you can always talk about it with me,\u201d Leor says kindly to me, but her eyes are alight with anger. She\u2019s my feminist friend. \u201cIt\u2019s really good you broke up with him.\u201d<\/p>\n

    In Jewish law, or halacha<\/i>, <\/i>if a woman is raped the rapist has to pay her father or husband for the damages. I don\u2019t know how this amount of money is decided but when I learned about this I thought it was awesome that an ancient culture facilitated for the victims of rape. It\u2019s funny how things change. Sexual harassment and not asking consent for anything but sex is another story. There are some things one only gets punished for in the next world.<\/p>\n

    When he asked me out, my first thought was \u201cyeah, sure, why not?\u201d Lying on top of me, he said that we were ready to take things further. So I said no, that I am not ready. He scowled and held my hands down, kissing my neck, his scruff irritating my skin, the smell of his sweat choking me. I struggled, then I forgot how to say no. He removed my shirt, my bra; I thought I was saying no\u2014is it possible for one\u2019s thoughts to take away one\u2019s ability to speak? I wriggled underneath him, every fiber of my being screaming NO. I wish I was shomer <\/i>long before the age of eighteen when I took it upon myself, but rather the traditional thirteen, the year that a Jewish child comes of age. And I wished for it so many times before I did it.<\/p>\n

    I looked away from him\u2014I could barely look at my own body in the mirror, much less let someone else look at mine. He paused to look down at my pale skin, arms draped with scars. I held back my tears, I was so scared he would not like me. He slid his sweaty palm down my body, being fourteen inches shorter and a hundred pounds lighter, there was no way I stood a chance. I looked at my door, a strong piece of wood, custom made just for my house by my father. I knew why my father was so reluctant to put on a doorknob to my door now. There is also a law forbidding two single people of the opposite sex to be together, called yichud, <\/i>singularity. I knew why that was a law at that moment, I wanted it so bad.<\/p>\n

    Three weeks later he had a girlfriend, she was blonde, thin, and adorable. I was really confused how he could move on so quickly when I was still forgetting something. I cried. There\u2019s a buffer period of thirty days in halacha <\/i>from when one can go from one marriage to the next, saying you love someone forever one day to someone else the next. He made his point\u2014he won, again.<\/p>\n

    In a ketuva, <\/i>or a traditional Jewish marriage contract, one of the requirements of a husband is to sexually satisfy his wife. Yeah, that\u2019s right\u2014if a woman doesn\u2019t receive proper treatment, she is allowed to go to the Rabbinical courts and demand a get, <\/i>a divorce. Horrifyingly, the man is allowed to refuse to give her one, which gives her the halachick <\/i>status of an agunah, <\/i>a \u201cchained\u201d wife. In recent years, Rabbis have formulated a halachick <\/i>pre-nup that once signed forces the husband to accept the demand of divorce. Women will be chained no more.<\/p>\n

    His sweaty palms reached into my underwear, he growled \u201ctell me when you are done.\u201d.And after three minutes of him pretending like he knows how to stimulate a clitoris and asking me if I was done, I pulled his hand out and somehow got out from the entrapment he put me in, I guess that\u2019s just women’s intuition.<\/p>\n

    \u201cGo wash your hands,\u201d I said, he went to the bathroom and I composed myself. He came back in, \u201cit\u2019s getting late, you better go catch your train.\u201d<\/p>\n

    \u201cI could stay a little longer,\u201d he said, hands gripped into boulders at his sides, \u201cI\u2019ve fingered enough girls to know that they never want to return the favor.\u201d<\/p>\n

    \u201cNext time, seriously, there\u2019s a storm coming. This is the last train, look,\u201d I pleaded, shoving my computer into his face. I wish I was shomer <\/i>long before the age of eighteen when I took it upon myself, but rather the traditional thirteen, the year that a Jewish child comes of age. And I wished for it so many times before I did it.<\/p>\n

    We walked to the station in the crisp October air, the whispers of wind caressing my face kindly. He told me he loves me and couldn\u2019t wait to see me again. For some reason I could not remember, I knew this was going to be the last time. I showered for a long time when I got home.<\/p>\n

    And then for years, it wasn\u2019t a story to dwell upon. I didn\u2019t want to be a victim, I wasn\u2019t looking for a monetary reward for damages, I didn\u2019t want to ever see myself as chained. So it was an event that rested in the back of my mind until I met Aviva, a now good friend who was following Jewish law with so much purity and happiness I was jealous of her with every fiber of my being.<\/p>\n

    \u201cOh, you know him?\u201d a newly acquainted friend of mine whispered to me, her eyes darkening, \u201chow do you know him?\u201d<\/p>\n

    \u201cWe went out for like, three months starting in summer 2011,\u201d I stumbled, \u201cit wasn\u2019t a big deal.\u201d<\/p>\n

    \u201cDid he hurt you?\u201d She blurted, looking scandalized at her own words.<\/p>\n

    \u201cI\u2026um\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

    \u201cHe was dating my sister what must have been a few weeks after you guys. He was really pushy with her, always telling her what to do. He raped her, I hate him.\u201d I shook on the inside, feeling horrible for this girl I don\u2019t even know. My friend kept on talking, spilling out words she has wanted to say for a long time, as if they were perfectly ripened for this moment. How you ruined her emotionally, how she withered away and became someone else all together. It was my fault, if only I had taught him what NO means. If only I knew how to say NO at that time. \u201cBut you probably hate him more than I do.\u201d<\/p>\n

    \u201cHe didn\u2019t rape me,\u201d I said, \u201cI ended it before he could get that far. I\u2019m really ok, I just feel terrible for your sister. I am so, so sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

    \u201cShe isn\u2019t shomer [nagia] <\/i>by the way, she stopped going in any direction towards religion after that.\u201d<\/p>\n

    I showered for a really long time that night.<\/p>\n

    \n

    Discussion Questions<\/h3>\n