Today was Yom Kippur, the day of atonement. I was all set to fast, because last year I sort of skipped out on that part. I took the day off of work, to be with the fam and to have an easy fast.
When I woke up with a headache this morning, I knew it was not going to be an easy fast, but I figured I would do it as long as I could. Unfortunately, my headache got so bad that I had to miss the evening service, which is my favorite service. As much contempt as I have for Judaism, I kind of like the high holidays. The prayerbooks my aunt and uncle's temple uses are quite progressive. One particular responsive prayer asks that higher being to forgive us for polluting the earth, for not being politically active, for being self-serving, for being xenophobic, for not conducting business morally, for resorting to war instead of peace, for forgetting the means by only concentrating on the ends, and various other sins we all committ at one time or another. I thought a lot about the past year, what I did that was reprehensible, the people I hurt, the times I should have been more honest, the times I was lazy, the times I was apathetic. The good news is that I think I am becoming more conscious of the possible consequences of my actions before I act. I think that is a step in the right direction. Hopefully I will have less to repent next time.
One thing that the rabbi mentioned in his sermon was that he believes Jews are "genetically hard wired for hope." While I don't believe that is limited to just Jewish people, I would like to think that is true of the Jewish people, or at least of myself. I have always been kind of a dreamer, a hoper of sorts. Even at 24, I have not lost faith in people. I keep pledging not to lose this, to write it down, not to forget what I felt at 10, 16, 21 and 24, so I can feel the same love and happiness about the world at 28, 47 and 65.
This rabbi's comment about being hard-wired for hope made me think a lot about our experience in TFA. I think you can go two directions after your two year committment. You can either resign yourself to believing that we are doing harm, upsetting these communities and ruining children forever (ahem, "Taught By America" lady). Or your faith in humanity can be renewed. Why do people keep on teaching? Why do they keep feeling passionate about change, about education, after they are thrown into the worst of conditions? Teaching in Los Angeles uncovers your spirit, there is no way to hide it. Why did we all become overly dramatic in our first year? It is like someone took a brush and keep sloughing off the layers of conformity we all developed during our time in college. We entered somewhat the same, and came out drastically different. I am proud of that. I am glad to have shed the cocoon that was encasing my passion for believing in the world, for believing in people. Now I have armor so tough, that even when #6 says I am too idealistic, I can shake it off. I think it makes us better people, if we are confident in our beliefs without insisting that others adopt the same beliefs.
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One of the recent issues of Esquire had a photo essay and "What I've Learned" from a war photographer. One thing he said was something like, "People ask me how I'm able to stay positive after all I've seen. I tell them if the people I've seen have been through all of that and are still positive, why shouldn't I be?"
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