Ivy Helman, Ph.D.

From the Archives: “On Sh’lach.”

This post was originally published on 22 June 2022. Sh’lach was the Torah portion for yesterday, 13 July 2026. I have made only two edits: updated the pictures and clarified the chapter number and verses for the reference about tzitzit. I highly recommend one read the verses for a better understanding of my comments as I was rather brief. I have included a link to make doing so easier.

The Torah portion for the upcoming Shabbat is Beha’alotecha, which I have already discussed here. Thus, in this blog post, I will discuss the Torah portion for June 25th, Sh’lach (Numbers 13:1 – 15:41). Sh’lach contains the sending of scouts into the Land, the spreading of a bad report, more Israelite disobedience, conditional divine forgiveness accompanied by divine punishments, a description of types of offerings in the Land, the stoning to death of a Shabbat-breaker, and the commandment for tzitizit. From a feminist perspective there are two main areas I want to focus on in this post: the many ways in which the death penalty is prevalent in this parshah and the commandment for tzitizit.

Sh’lach has essentially two examples of death penalties, both, if the reader can believe it, divinely-inspired/required. First, let us look at the case of the man gathering wood. In verse 15:32, a few Israelites catch a man gathering wood on Shabbat. They take him to Moses, Aaron, and the entire congregation (15:33), all of whom were not sure what to do with him. Moses consults with the deity, who pronounces a death penalty by stoning outside of the camp (15:35). The people do as divinely instructed (15:36).

Besides the fact that I genuinely oppose the death penalty, the sentence here does not fit the transgression. How does breaking Shabbat warrant death? It does not.

Our Ecofeminist World.

Every year in my course “Feminism and the Environmental Movements,” we take a part of one class session about halfway through the semester and explore what an ecofeminist world should look like. I begin by drawing a large circle on the whiteboard, representing the world and as a class we discuss what belongs in the world. That information goes on the inside of the circle. What we don’t think belongs within an ecofeminist world, I write on the far corners of the board. Then there are those topics about which no consensus can be made. Those I write along the edge of the circle, and we spend considerable class time debating the reasons why those ideas are controversial.

On Active Waiting, Counting the Omer, and Our Connection to Nature.

We wait. We wait for the bus. We wait for the spring to return. We wait for our first cup of coffee (or tea? Do people actually wait for tea?) in the morning. We wait at traffic lights. We wait for test results. We spend a lot of our lives waiting.

We also can’t wait. To be 5 and a half. To be an adult. To start the school year. To spend time with our friends. To go on vacation. To find a (new) (better) job. We wait for a better world. Waiting can be fraught with anything from nervous energy to debilitating anxiety.

This waiting happens for both seemingly insignificant but also profound reasons. However, waiting does not mean inaction. It does not mean that we sit around hoping something will happen for us or to us. Yes, there are some aspects of life we cannot change or hurry the results. Yet, there are many parts of waiting that require our active participation.

From the Archives: “The Czech Tradition of Čarodějnice (Witches).”

Author’s Note: This blog first published on May 14, 2023. Čarodějnice will take place this year on Thursday, April 30, 2026.

This post is a follow-up, in a way, to the post I published here on September 11, 2016, entitled “Continuing Pre-Christian Traditions in the Czech Republic,” and will be a combination photo essay* and elaboration on one of the rituals mentioned in that first post. On April 30th, I was in the small village where my partner’s family has their summer house. Yes, that same village that has inspired posts like this. There, we celebrated Čarodějnice, or Witches. This holiday seems to be related to what is called May Day or Beltane in other countries. What is unique about this tradition isn’t necessarily the májka (May Pole) although it is different than other places May Pole, but the burning of the witch.

Throughout the day, everything is gendered. The women and girls have certain tasks; the men and boys have too. The women and girls create and decorate. First, they create a witch to be burned on a large bonfire; the construction and shape of both can vary. After creating the witch, the women and girls (although it should be virgins – but no one really follows that tradition) decorate the top of a cut-down, very tall pine tree with strips of brightly colored fabric and crepe paper, tying them on to create what will become vertical streamers blowing in the wind, thus creating what is called a májka.

From the Archives: “On Purim and the Value of Courage.”

Author’s Note: This post was first published on 10 March 2013. This year, Purim was on the 2nd of March. This post has updated imagery.

The Jewish Festival of Purim and the book of Esther offer us an opportunity to reflect on the value of courage from a feminist perspective. The online Webster’s Dictionary defines courage as, “mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty.” In religious discourse, courage is often categorized as a virtue or a moral principle. Aristotle (384BCE – 322BCE), one of the most famous of the virtue ethicists, believed a virtue like courage should be practiced according to the mean or the right amount. Too much courage leaves one rash, possibly too reactionary and hot-headed while too little makes one cowardly and weak, but just the right amount in a given situation leads to moral behavior. Virtuous living leads to happiness, or perhaps is itself happiness, for Aristotle. Yet, as a feminist, I understand the worth of courage differently. To me, the value of courage lies not in individualistic gains nor in personal happiness but in its use toward achieving justice and equality in society.

On Reading by Ivy Helman

I would not say that I was much of a reader growing up. Doctoral studies and years of education had turned me off of reading as something pleasurable. Instead, it had become a task, an item on my to-do list, often, a chore. It was also not that joyful since I have struggled with some form of dyslexia all my life.

But, now, I would say I am embracing reading. I have talked on this blog about my love of dystopian books before, but I also enjoy fantasy books, historical fictions, feminist retellings of myths, the occasional thriller, and so on. In terms of format, I read both paper books and audio books. The joy of audiobooks is the freedom to read when commuting, cooking, doing laundry, walking the dog, relaxing on the couch, etc. They have opened up the possibility of enjoying two activities at once sometimes and other times making a difficult activity more bearable.

From the Archives: On My Invitation as a Jew to Participate in Advent and Christmas by Ivy Helman.

This was originally posted Dec. 8, 2019.

I attend Czech classes twice a week. This time of year the courses focus on Christmas. I’ve attended three different schools over the last five years, and all handle Christmas similarly. Even though the Czech Republic is only marginally Christian, for many Czechs being Czech and observing Christmas seem to go hand-in-hand. In fact, Czech customs around Christmas even figure into the citizenship exam.

In last Tuesday’s class, my teacher asked me how I celebrate Christmas here. She knows I’m Jewish. When I said that I don’t observe Christmas traditions in my home, she responded, “you don’t have to be a believer to do Advent-related and Christmasy things. Only 20% of Czechs are, and yet we all participate in Advent and Christmas.” It was part invitation, part assimilation request. However, the excited in-class discussion felt more like an attempt at conversion. Don’t you want to be a part of this amazingly joyful time? Continue reading “From the Archives: On My Invitation as a Jew to Participate in Advent and Christmas by Ivy Helman.”

A Celebration of Gender Studies for the First Night of Ḥanukah.

On the 21st of November, I took part in a faculty panel as part of the 20th anniversary celebration of the Gender Studies Master’s Program, the program in which I teach, at the Faculty of Humanities (FHS) at Charles University in Prague, Czech Republic. The event featured the afore-mentioned faculty panel, a panel of program graduates, and an invited lecture entitled “Care as Taking Part,” by Prof. Estelle Ferrarese of the Institut Universitaire de France, organized in cooperation with CEFRES and CETE-P. After the formal part of the program, we all enjoyed refreshments and socializing with current and former students, faculty, and staff.

Perhaps the reader of this blog has not heard about the existence of a Gender Studies Master’s Program in the heart of Central Europe. I would like to take some time in my post this month to explain what we do and why we are, in the spirit of Ḥanukah, bringing more light into the world.

On the Term Gender Order: Ignoring Feminist Insights.

A few months ago at a Gender Studies M.A. Program’s state exam, my colleagues and I had an intriguing discussion about the term gender order. The sociologist within our examining group was adamant that it was a better term than patriarchy as it was more neutral and could describe various gender orders in addition to patriarchal ones. They also said that it is, more or less, the term now used instead of patriarchy in their discipline and in Gender Studies, as it is considered to be a more accurate description of the gender situation. Another colleague and I countered that they were incorrect. Gender order was not a term used throughout all of Gender Studies to replace patriarchy. We both agreed that in our fields (literary analysis and religious studies), gender order is not used. At least, I have never encountered it.

The Women of Pinchas

The parshah I will discuss this month is Pinchas, Numbers 25:10-30:1. It was last read in synagogues on the 19th of July 2025. It covers dealings of a zealous deity, declarations of war, descriptions of animal sacrifices and grain offerings, a census for inheritance and possibly also conscription, and the case of five daughters who seek their inheritance. As I have done a number of times, I will focus on the women in the parshah using the methodology I have laid out in numerous commentaries (but do not always follow).

However, before we get into the heart of the matter, I also want to mention that Pinchas also marks the last parshah on my pursuit to comment at least once on each Torah parshah. Of course, there is so much more that I could say about the Torah and each and every one of its parshiyot (Note 1); from a feminist and ecofeminist perspective, I have just scratched the surface. Yet, I am also happy to have accomplished this milestone. Now, back to the parshah.