Last week Sunday, my partner and I were in Budapest, Hungary. We stopped at the Dohany Street Synagogue, the second largest synagogue in the world and the largest in Europe. After we bought our tickets and proceeded through security, we decided to go into the synagogue first and then the museum.
We walked into the synagogue. A younger man (maybe 20) was handing out paper kippot (yarmulke in Yiddish). My partner and I both put our hands out but were refused. There was an elderly man there who said that the kippot were only for men. That didn’t surprise me initially as I take my students to the Jewish Museum in Prague and I often argue with the elderly ladies over the right and acceptability of women wearing kippot. They begrudgingly give my female students kippot saying “only as souvenir,” which boils my blood. Usually, by the time they give the women kippot even those who traditionally wear them are too shamed to do so. Continue reading “What Happened When I Dared to Wear a Kippah by Ivy Helman”

We treat the physical assault and the silencing after as two separate things, but they are the same, both bent on annihilation.

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In March of 2011, at a symposium on trauma, healing, and spirituality in Belfast, Ireland, I spoke about shame in the context of war, addressing the experiences of women survivors of rape during the Rwandan genocide, US soldiers returning from war with PTSD symptoms, and cultures, such as those in Belfast and Bosnia, steeped in war and violence. While discussing how theology has a responsibility to examine how the church talks about shame, guilt, and sin to help survivors of war trauma heal, I recognized A. Denise Starkey in the audience, a woman whose work was instrumental in the crafting of my own. Her book,
Warning friends, the first four paragraphs of this post includes quotes/references of some of Donald Trump’s misogynist rhetoric.