Change Your Name, Change Your Destiny

A Post by Emet

Changing my name wasn’t such a big deal.

One of the first things I did in Israel was to change my name.

No one really knew me by my previous name. As they say in the States, if you start living by a name, then basically that is considered to be a name change. Of course if you want all the potential “rights” that come with changing your name, such as having your IDs and credit cards match what you say your name is, then you have to go through official channels. In Israel, from the beginning, my name was already what it was, so when people don’t know you by anything else, and there’s no one there to contradict that or call you anything else, it sticks. For the record, the process of changing your name in Israel is REALLY easy. You just go down to the proper government office, fill out an application, wait for your number to be called, and the clerk stamps a few things, types a few things, and then you’re good to go. No problems.

In the United States it’s not so easy to change your name.

Why? It seems as though they are worried about fraud. So, you have to start out first by going to your local superior courthouse. You have to fill out many forms in a very particular way with a certain amount of copies. Then you have to pay a lot of money. If you’re low or no income, then you can apply to have the court feeds waived, but that doesn’t exempt you from the completely strange and antiquated system of publishing your old name and requested new name along with your court-date in a local paper for a month. Yes, that’s right, you actually need to appear in front of a judge to explain yourself. You’re completely stuck with whatever fees you have to pay to this random paper to do something that no one pays attention to. Jess and I hunted for a local paper, calling a few to find out who had the cheapest rates, and it was still over $100 in fees! Does anyone even read these random, small circulation print papers anymore? I have to say it was pretty bizarre. Then, the paper provides you with a certified affidavit that they published an announcement of a change in name for a month in their little podunk paper that you have to bring to the courthouse.

Finally my court-date arrived. I had all the paperwork and had made up my mind there was no reason to be nervous, even though I had to go in front of a judge. Even when you’re innocent of anything, somehow having to stand in front of that guy makes you feel guilty. Jess and I hoped somehow they would call up the day before and say, “Aw, don’t worry, everything seems good with you. No need to come in. We’ll just stamp the papers for you.” But no such luck.

So we arrived to the courthouse early. We sat outside the courtroom until the bailiff let us in. I was thinking it was going to be some kind of small private event, but nooooo. As we waited, more and more lawyers kept buzzing around the hallway. I prayed that they would go elsewhere, but that didn’t happen. They were all waiting to get into the same courtroom as me. I thought, “What the hell! I reserved the damn thing for my trial at 8:30. What are these fools thinking they get to do? They’re going to try to cut me in line!” I was hoping the judge would be a meanie and put the kibosh on that. There was another observant Jew there, also changing his name and probably thinking along similar lines as us. As we sat there, the lawyers got weirder and creepier. One man-lawyer started cajoling a lady-lawyer about making some sort of settlement. You couldn’t help but feel bad for her the way he was pressuring her. It was so awkward. We were right there so you couldn’t help but listen. In the meantime, there was like this little club starting where they all seemed to know each other and were patting each other on the back and talking about their weekends and children. Finally, the bailiff lets us in to the courtroom and I’m thinking, “I hope the judge makes these shmucks wait around.” But, there was all this procedural stuff first. The judge seemed very nice although I didn’t really like all the lawyers listening. When the judge called my case number, I had to approach the podium where the lawyers had addresses the judge.He said that everything was in order. I might have said Sir one time instead of your honor, but then stamp stamp stamp and he sent me on my way!

All in all, it really wasn’t too bad of an experience. I think I thought it would be much worse than it was. But then I thought it was going to be even less of a big deal than it was, and I started to feel like it was.

I didn’t alter my birth name lightly. I felt the loss of my old name (even though hard as they try, well some of them try anyway, it’s hard for them to get it right). I grieved it, although part of it will always be a piece of me. There’s no denying or changing that, and I’m completely ok with it.

Why did I change my name?

I knew that when I was going to Israel not only did I want a fresh start, but I wanted to have a Hebrew name, one where I could be easily absorbed into Israeli culture. I knew that wasn’t possible with some English name. I spent months looking for something that would fit. I wanted something that would keep the same initials. I wanted something simple that would fit me. I wanted something meaningful. I also thought it would be nice if it was gender neutral (before realizing that nothing in Hebrew is gender neutral) or a unisex name, which it seemed like there were plenty of those in Hebrew. I didn’t find anything as many websites and baby naming books that I looked at. Finally I just started searching in Google Translate for values that I felt were important for me. Being “true” is one of them. That’s when I found Emet, or for those Ashkenazi Jews out there, Emes. But at the time, I didn’t know anything about Ashkenazi accents, and I didn’t know that words ending in Taf are feminine. I just knew that I liked the name in English. It could be unisex, or even more masculine, and it had a meaning I identified with. I didn’t know at that time that changing your name or adding a name had such significant in Jewish culture.

When I arrived in Israel, the reactions to my name were very strong. It’s not a word people use for a name. But I also didn’t know the religious significance of the name at the time either. I struggled with people’s reactions. Instead of integrating me into society, I was sticking out like a sore thumb. I thought about changing it again. But for whatever reason, Baruch Hashem, I was there, and I chose what I chose knowing what little I knew then. So I think it had a reason, and I chose to leave it that way. How could I ever change it when I hear my bashert say my name? Baruch Hashem, it’s a very strong and powerful name.

May I do my best to live up to it.

Offbeat/Alternative Bachelorette Party

When Emet and I got engaged, we didn't think so much about having a "bachelorette" party. Neither of us are partiers, and it felt like a weird tradition that we weren't sure we wanted to take part in. That being said, we thought that it would be a great opportunity to get some friends and sisters together and have a good time. Emet spoke with my older sister about hosting one, and she went into action planning it. At first, she had a few ideas that she had looked into, but with our limitations (cost and timing), they didn't work out. Those ideas were a cooking class or wine tasting. Instead, she came up with a great combination of fun and food, and we all had an awesome time!

The party started with a drive up to an arcade place, which also had laser tag and whirlyball. For those of you who don't know, whirlyball is a mix between bumper cars, basketball, and lacrosse. The group (Emet and me, my two sisters, and two of my friends - another friend and my cousin came later) split up into two groups. We then had to get a Whiffle ball into a basketball hoop and throw the ball using short lacrosse sticks.

Whirlyball

Needless to say, we all got a little bruised, but it was a great time! We also played a few rounds of Laser Tag. It's a dark room with glow-in-the-dark walls and mazes. That was thoroughly awesome! At the end of about two hours of playing whirlyball and laser tag, we were exhausted.

Showing off our guns

Then, we caravanned to a Tapas and sushi bar. We relaxed and ate for a bit, refreshing ourselves after an energy-depleting experience. Soon after we all recovered, my older sister led us in a game similar to "Cards Against Humanity," but the bridal shower edition. The guests asked us questions, for which we kept our answers secret. Each guest had to write down either the real answer or a ridiculous answer. All the answers were put into a pile, and we read them out loud. Whoever had the answer we liked the most received a point. Not only did everyone learn more about us, but we had a good time laughing to the ridiculous answers.

The sushi tapas place, Blue Grotto

In the end, it was an amazing "non-bachelorette bachelorette party." It wasn't about partying during my last days of "freedom." I have no connection whatsoever with that idea of the bachelorette party. Instead, we spent time together, doing something we don't do very often.

If you are thinking of doing a bachelorette party, for yourself or a friend, and you don't relate to the traditional ideas of a bachelorette party, try to step outside that box, and be creative! There are so many cool ideas that you can do instead!

War in Israel

In November 2012, I was in the south when Operation Pillar of Defense took place (see here and here for my discussion on those events).  In fact, the ceasefire and a bus bombing both happened on my birthday. I was pretty shaken, mainly by the siren rather than the rockets. I know what it's like to be on edge and constantly wonder - should I take a shower or put earplugs in at night to try to sleep some? I know the sound of the Iron Dome shooting rockets out of the sky and feeling the vibration of that explosion in the walls and floor. When we had drills throughout the country after that time (when I was in Beersheva, in the Israel Museum, at Pardes), I hated it. I could feel the anxiety coming back. Not out of fear for my life but because the sound of the siren is so jarring and terrifying. It's not something that we hear everyday or should hear everyday.

But I also know that after my trip to Sderot last fall that my experience is just a blip. I didn't grow up hearing the sirens. In Gedera, we had one minute to get to a shelter. In Sderot, it's 15 seconds or less. In Gedera, we had a mamat (safe room) in our apartment, unlike our friends and neighbors who didn't since their buildings were built in the 1970s and hadn't been updated.

People have been posting videos of what it's like to hear the siren and go to the safe room and also what happens when you are outside and the sirens go off - pictures of people crouching between cars and highway separators, under the concrete bus stops, and even next to a bush because that's the closest thing that might protect you.

I don't need to watch the videos. Some people want others to know what it's like, but I don't need to. The thought of watching the video, or rather the thought of hearing the siren is enough to make my heart beat a little faster.

I don't need any of those reminders to feel it, to understand it, to empathize.

I also know that the news of this side doing this or this side doing that isn't helpful, and yet I read the news anyway. I know what it was like for life to just go on as before, with reminders of sirens every now and then, "oh right, there are rockets in the south" and "oh, right, we aren't going anywhere."

I'm disappointed and critical. I'm disillusioned and cynical. Where will this lead? Back to the same place we were at before.

I keep thinking - what if this was here, in the US? If rebel drug lords in Mexico were shooting rockets at California, Arizona, New Mexico, would the US just stand by? Would the UN say, oh no, the US should be punished for their oppression of civilians caught in the middle. When the criminals use civilians as human shields, how can you play fair? There is no fairness in war. Everyone suffers. I know that Gazans have fewer resources on the whole, fewer bomb shelters, and fewer other safety measures, and yet the ones shooting the rockets really don't care if it lands in Gaza or in Israel. Those shooting the rockets don't care about life.

Another operation, another war. Nothing is going to change. I was hopeful when we visited the West Bank and spoke with activists working with the Bedouins and the Palestinians and also when I visited the kibbutz at the Gaza border and had the opportunity to hear from a Palestinian peace activist living in Gaza. Small change will help, but not enough. We need big sweeping changes and people need to forgive. Otherwise we won't move forward.

As we head into Shabbat today, I hope you will think about the conflict and pray for peace, as I do everyday.

Shabbat shalom.

Preparing for the Wedding: Taking Advantage of the Engagement Period

Emet and I have been intentional in our relationship from the beginning, when I asked her on the night we met, what are your goals for the next five years? We are committed to getting married only once, not divorcing, and communicating effectively to have a happy, healthy relationship.

That being said, we both recognize that not everyone approaches a relationship the way we have, and that's why I want to write this post today.

Emet and I have been seeing our rabbi every three or four weeks since coming to LA and a few times prior to that through Facetime. These sessions have been helpful for us to discuss our own goals for the future and work on any emotional or other issues we may have. Luckily, we've been doing this for a while, so it gets easier and easier as time goes on.

We picked up two books in the last few weeks that have been helpful thus far. The Five Love Languages is a bestseller that breaks down five ways that we can show that we love each other, and while it is hetero-normative, it has some good points to think about. The other is Meeting at the Well: A Jewish Spiritual Guide to Being Engaged, published by the Union of Reform Judaism.

We have loved Meeting at the Well so far! It has given us the opportunity to talk about aspects of our parents' marriages and our childhoods that contribute to the way we approach relationships and how we our pasts will relate to our future.

The great thing about this book is that is includes stories from people and the Talmud to bring in tradition where appropriate. It's helpful especially for couples who are reclaiming or returning to a more observant Judaism. While it doesn't include everything, we have found it to be a helpful beginning point. The activities are not Jewish-specific, so even for those of you who aren't Jewish, I think the book can be very useful!

The Five Love Languages has also been useful in looking at how we each respond to different actions, and what is the most effective way that each of us feel loved. I didn't know exactly what mine was going into the book, so I'm glad I read it. I knew immediately what Emet's was, but it seemed that after she read the book, she felt there was another one that also impacted her.

The idea of the Five Love Languages is that we each grow up understanding how we feel love in different ways. They are:
Words of Affirmation
Quality Time
Receiving Gifts
Acts of Service
& Physical Touch.
One of the five languages the author lists will be the top way for you. We found that we could rank the five ways to most important to us to the least important. What is important for this discussion of love languages is that we communicate differently based upon what is most important for us; however, what works for us might not work for our partner. If one partner needs to feel physical touch to feel loved, and the other feels that gifts are most important, they will need to be cognizant of this, and acting differently toward what works for your partner will strengthen your relationship.

I highly recommend both of these books for couples who are interested in taking advantage of being engaged and want to strengthen their relationship with their partner. Happy learning!