u/Upbeat_Teach6117

Recently, my Israeli relatives (who are Dati Leumi and fairly liberal) visited me in the United States. I was telling my cousin that the trappings of present-day American Orthodoxy are luxuries. The must-have items, ever-tightening social expectations, and constant "chumra creep" are far beyond what our ancestors could imagine.

Did shtetl-dwellers in 1897 Russia turn up their noses at fruits and vegetables? Did ancient Judeans wear $8000 lace-front wigs imported from Moldova? Did 1960s British rabbis publish extremely long books about the primacy of tznius?

No, no, and no. The truth is that being able to eat very specific hechsherim is a luxury. Shopping at frum-owned, tznius-only stores is a luxury. Adding new foods to the Kitniyos list every Pesach is a luxury. Being financially supported by one's in-laws because one is too important to work is a luxury.

My cousin agreed with my assessment. What do you think?

At this point, it seems obvious to me that Jill moved her Full-Time Ministry (TM) to YouTube for two reasons:

1. YouTube allows her to post the same content she'd been posting on Facebook and Instagram while trying to make a few bucks. By diverting all of her fans and snarkers to a single YouTube account, she can increase its views somewhat and increase her paycheck from five cents to ten.

2. YouTube allows her to turn off comments, avoiding well-deserved criticism and constructive feedback. She wants to get her message out while avoiding outside commentary.

What do you think?

I just got home from visiting my brother's family. My oldest nephew will be starting mesivta tomorrow, and he showed me a pamphlet that included the yeshivah's daily schedule. It also listed many behavioral/technological/informational restrictions.

He'll be at yeshivah for nearly fourteen hours a day. Two and a half of those hours (in the late afternoon, of course, when the bachurim are tired and hungry) will be devoted to general studies.

The rest will be spent "learning" about things like tumah, ox-goring, and the laws of Shabbos. To me, these are useless, wasteful subjects. And they're being prioritized at the very stage of a young man's life when he should be discovering what his own interests and goals are.

At this mesivta, there is no computer course. There is no musical education. There are no sports teams. There is no science lab. There is no secular library. There's just a factory designed to produce clones who dress, think, and act alike.

My nephew says he wants to be Yeshivish, but how can he truly know that he wants when his exposure to "outside" academics/culture/skills has been so limited? How can he know what career or education to pursue when years of Yeshivish surroundings have taught him that only one narrow path is acceptable?

I worry about his future. I worry about his siblings' futures. It seems they're being robbed of real educations, hobbies, skill acquirement, and individualization. I love to spend time with them, but listening to them "learn" with my brother makes me cringe as it reminds me of how much they're missing out on.

Thanks for letting me vent.

My Israeli relatives are visiting me in the United States, and we were talking about the names of fruits. I told my cousin that I'd learned the word for nectarine was אפרשזיף (since nectarines are hybrids of peaches and plums), and she told me she'd never heard of that term. She said the correct word for nectarine was נקטרינה and that אפרשזיף might be outdated.

Can anyone weigh in on this debate?

As many of you know, I live in a Yeshivish neighborhood (paying rent to my mom, who is MO) because I can't afford to move elsewhere. Occasionally, I have to work on Shabbos, and my neighbors (many of whom think I'm "modern" instead of OTD) tend to stare at me when they see me enter or exit my car on Saturdays. I constantly worry that their stares will escalate to hurtful comments and outright harassment, and these thoughts fill me with anxiety.

This morning, I had to go to work for a few hours. On Erev Shabbos, I'd parked my car around the block - away from my house - in order to avoid as much frum interaction as possible. Unfortunately, I began walking to my car just as the vasikin minyan down the street was letting out. I tried to avoid eye contact, since I know several of the guys who daven there.

As I neared the corner, hoping to make a quick getaway, I heard someone call my name - once, twice. It was a cousin of mine, leaving the vasikin minyan. From the middle of the street, he asked me where I was headed. I got close to where he was standing and said, "I don't want to scandalize you...but I'm on my way to work. I'm parked around the corner to be more respectful. I don't love working on Saturdays, and I actually enjoy the quiet of Shabbos. But sometimes I have to be a team player and work on the weekends."

I cringed a bit, waiting for my cousin to berate me.

Then, he smiled and said, "I am scandalized." He began to schmooze with me about other topics, and we chatted for a minute or two before I moved on. Nobody watched me get into my car, nobody stared at me as I drove away, and now I feel more confident about going home in a few hours.