Adina Bar Shalom, the Bechora
I have not met Adina Bar Shalom (yet). But I feel like I know her in the most intimate way. (Ok so I am probably majorly projecting but anyway).
Adina and I are both a Behora.
A Behora (alternate sp. Bechorah) is a first born daughter. Behor and Behora are known to have been used as nicknames and even as proper names in Ladino.
My dad once told me, by way of admonishment, that in Ladino, the Behora is known to be grouchy., moody, out of sorts. Of course, neither he, nor anyone else it seems, ever bothered to consider that maybe the Behora has a legitimate cause for her anger. Maybe she isn't cool with being saddled with caring for younger siblings and household chores while her brothers roam free.
Well Adina doesn't seem to be grouchy or out of sorts but like all Behorot, she has every right to be. Particularly as the eldest daughter of a Rabbinic family, as I was; the unfairness of it all strikes even deeper than having to do more than your fair share of drudgery.
Adina, I believe, is truly her father's heir: The sharp mind; the drive, the ambition, the independence of thought. Therein lies the rub. It is Adina, not her kid brother Yitzchak, who right now, should have been the chief Rabbi of Israel.
Adina remembers a younger Ovadia Yosef, a different one than the one who said that who said that "Women should stick to making Hamin and not get involved with matters of Torah." She recalls:
"On weekday afternoons, we would spend a half hour with Abba during lunchtime. The radio would be on, and we would listen to Professor Nechama Leibowitz, z”l, explain the Tanach. He would say, “Learn from her, children; see what a wise woman she is. Learn the Tanach well, so that in twenty or thirty years from now, I will be privileged to hear you on the radio explaining the Tanach.”
But it seems the directive was addressed to her brothers, as Adina herself concludes, "Indeed some of my brothers deliver shiurim on the radio." While her brothers were studying Torah, Adina was sent to sew.
Did it hurt? Of course it did; if you can even ask then you have never been a Behora. “I was a talented girl who wanted to attend the teachers’ seminary together with my friends,” She recalled. “I looked around me and saw girls who didn’t even understand what their teachers were saying going to seminary and I wasn’t. I started feeling sorry for myself.” Adina was slated not to be a religious leader, but to marry one.
For a time, Adina did sublimate her ambition towards her career; and she does not seem to have become embittered at the numerous obstacles her family has placed in front of her (like her husband "forbidding" her to study psychology, one of the few avenues of authority available for ultraOrthodox women). But it seems that being a Bechora still dogs her; still stands as the impetus behind much of her community work. "When our youngest daughter got married seventeen years ago, I thought, how can I contribute, to leave my mark, as the daughter of Rav Ovadia? I realized that higher education was the answer."
Adina doesn't seem to confront her family's expectations of her, but rather wiggle around them. She has declined to run for political office for example; whether for Knesset or for president of Israel. Let's not even get into the fiasco that she let herself get sidelined with the supposed Shas women's advisory. She is quoted counseling a young teen regarding his doubts on religious observance “I told him that doing things for the wrong reasons can lead you to do things for the right reasons,” she said afterward. “Even if you do things to please your friends, there’s greatness in that. Sometimes we give things up in order to make others feel better. That’s also part of our values, even though it comes at a cost." Was she talking about herself?
Can Adina ever break lose of her father's legacy? Could she have ever succeed if she had? Can she continue to succeed if she does not?
What to do when the family who has created you and sustains you is also the one standing in your way?
Adina and I are both a Behora.
A Behora (alternate sp. Bechorah) is a first born daughter. Behor and Behora are known to have been used as nicknames and even as proper names in Ladino.
My dad once told me, by way of admonishment, that in Ladino, the Behora is known to be grouchy., moody, out of sorts. Of course, neither he, nor anyone else it seems, ever bothered to consider that maybe the Behora has a legitimate cause for her anger. Maybe she isn't cool with being saddled with caring for younger siblings and household chores while her brothers roam free.
Well Adina doesn't seem to be grouchy or out of sorts but like all Behorot, she has every right to be. Particularly as the eldest daughter of a Rabbinic family, as I was; the unfairness of it all strikes even deeper than having to do more than your fair share of drudgery.
Adina, I believe, is truly her father's heir: The sharp mind; the drive, the ambition, the independence of thought. Therein lies the rub. It is Adina, not her kid brother Yitzchak, who right now, should have been the chief Rabbi of Israel.
Adina remembers a younger Ovadia Yosef, a different one than the one who said that who said that "Women should stick to making Hamin and not get involved with matters of Torah." She recalls:
"On weekday afternoons, we would spend a half hour with Abba during lunchtime. The radio would be on, and we would listen to Professor Nechama Leibowitz, z”l, explain the Tanach. He would say, “Learn from her, children; see what a wise woman she is. Learn the Tanach well, so that in twenty or thirty years from now, I will be privileged to hear you on the radio explaining the Tanach.”
But it seems the directive was addressed to her brothers, as Adina herself concludes, "Indeed some of my brothers deliver shiurim on the radio." While her brothers were studying Torah, Adina was sent to sew.
Did it hurt? Of course it did; if you can even ask then you have never been a Behora. “I was a talented girl who wanted to attend the teachers’ seminary together with my friends,” She recalled. “I looked around me and saw girls who didn’t even understand what their teachers were saying going to seminary and I wasn’t. I started feeling sorry for myself.” Adina was slated not to be a religious leader, but to marry one.
For a time, Adina did sublimate her ambition towards her career; and she does not seem to have become embittered at the numerous obstacles her family has placed in front of her (like her husband "forbidding" her to study psychology, one of the few avenues of authority available for ultraOrthodox women). But it seems that being a Bechora still dogs her; still stands as the impetus behind much of her community work. "When our youngest daughter got married seventeen years ago, I thought, how can I contribute, to leave my mark, as the daughter of Rav Ovadia? I realized that higher education was the answer."
Adina doesn't seem to confront her family's expectations of her, but rather wiggle around them. She has declined to run for political office for example; whether for Knesset or for president of Israel. Let's not even get into the fiasco that she let herself get sidelined with the supposed Shas women's advisory. She is quoted counseling a young teen regarding his doubts on religious observance “I told him that doing things for the wrong reasons can lead you to do things for the right reasons,” she said afterward. “Even if you do things to please your friends, there’s greatness in that. Sometimes we give things up in order to make others feel better. That’s also part of our values, even though it comes at a cost." Was she talking about herself?
Can Adina ever break lose of her father's legacy? Could she have ever succeed if she had? Can she continue to succeed if she does not?
What to do when the family who has created you and sustains you is also the one standing in your way?
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