I grew up deeply Jewish—and deeply unsure of where I belonged. Judaism shaped my life, but I was never quite sure where I fit. I am no longer confused.
Growing up in a traditional home, I often felt the push and pull between devotion and division. We kept kosher, I went to shul with my mother every Shabbat, and we were always home on Friday nights. Yet, there were contradictions too — my father, a doctor, worked Saturday mornings, and we watched plenty of TV on Shabbat.
I went to an Orthodox day school where the separation between boys and girls was rigid: boys led in prayer and Torah study, while girls sat on the sidelines. I remember feeling the dissonance — if Judaism was meant to be the center of my life, why was my access to it different just because I was a girl? My school and most of my friends were Orthodox, but my family was not. I did not know my place.
At synagogue, too, I felt out of place. It was a traditional shul which leaned Orthodox, but most congregants were not observant. My family was actually more traditional than many of my peers’ families. I often felt caught between worlds, unsure of where — or how — I fit.
So I grew up with a strong Jewish identity, but also with confusion and a lot of questions. Those questions stayed with me. And over time, they guided me to seek a Judaism that felt whole — one that honored tradition while also making room for equality, voice, and belonging.
My husband, Bruce, had a very different experience. He had a bar mitzvah but didn’t really understand what he was saying or what any of it meant. Together, we realized we would need to chart our own Jewish path — to figure out what Judaism truly meant for us.
That search is what ultimately brought us here, to Congregation B’nai Israel. Here, we found a community where men and women pray side by side, learn together, and share equally in shaping Jewish life. A community where questions are welcomed, where diversity of practice is respected, and where every generation can feel at home. Standing shoulder to shoulder in the sanctuary, surrounded by voices raised together in prayer, I finally felt the wholeness I had been searching for.
It was here that I had my first aliyah at Sisterhood Shabbat, and I eagerly anticipate the next one, which will take place on January 30 and 31. It was here that we celebrated milestones in our family and mourned our losses together with the lifelong friends we have made. It is here that I lose myself in the soaring melodies rising from the bimah, feeling both grounded in tradition and lifted by community.
In a moment when so many people are searching for meaning, connection, and belonging, communities like CBI remind us that Judaism can be both rooted and evolving — faithful to our past and responsive to who we are today.
As a child, I was confused. At CBI, I made a choice — to claim a Judaism rooted in tradition, rich in meaning, and open to everyone. Here, I found joy, community, unity, and my Jewish identity. My hope is that every person who walks through CBI’s doors can feel what I did: that this, too, can be their place.
