Why It’s My Business to Comment on the World Around Me

Nearly two weeks ago, somewhat tongue in cheek (but with no malicious intent), I posted this photo that I’d taken during the hottest part of the day, when the heat index in New York City hovered around 110 degrees:

The accompanying text said:

I think God would have forgiven this man if he'd decided to take off his jacket today.

Update: Actually, I think he just should have taken off his jacket. It's not God who commands him to dress as though he's still living in 19th century Poland. Get with the weather, dude.

A flurry of likes, loves, and laughs followed the post, along with comments – some online and others by text.

By text, one friend asked: “Would say the same thing about a Muslim woman in full garb?”

I responded: “I’m not sure. I don’t know enough about the ‘why’ of Muslim dress.”

To which my friend said, “This feels to me a bit like MYOB.”

Is it?

Part of the reason I don’t know much about the "why" of Muslim dress is because I’m not Muslim. I am, however, Jewish and this guy is one of “my people.”

A proponent of talking openly and honestly about what we see, my sister noted, “The ‘why’ of Muslim dress is modesty, which is not the case for this man.”

So why do Hasidic men dress the way they do?

According to seeker.com:

Hasidic Judaism was founded in Eastern Europe, primarily the Poland and Ukraine regions, in the late 18th century. The traditional clothing stems primarily from Polish nobility standards of dress during this time. Contrary to popular assumption, Hasidic garb comes more from historical context rather than specific religious texts like the Torah.

As MyJewishLearning.com notes:

The Torah says little about clothing, either descriptively or prescriptively. Without explanation, it prohibits blending wool and linen in a garment (such garments are known as shatnez), in the same verse forbidding “mixing” different seeds and species of cattle (Leviticus 19:19). It forbids men from wearing women’s clothes and vice versa (Deuteronomy 22:5), without specifying the characteristics of either. It also requires Jews to put fringes on the corners of a four-pointed garment (Numbers 15:37-41), both as a way of identifying the Jew and reminding the Jew to observe the mitzvot commandments].

According to this Aish.com video, there are four reasons religious Jews dress the way they do: 1. It effects the way other people see them; 2. It effects how they perceive themselves; 3. It identifies them as members of a specific group; and 4. It expresses their honor and dignity as humans, distinct from animals.

These explanations are all well and good, but none of them expressly prohibits the man from removing his jacket if he’s bothered by excessive heat and humidity – a likely scenario on the day in question.

Perhaps it’s not for me to suggest that he do so – and, of course, I meant no offense in my observations – but, in these difficult times, it most certainly is my business to observe and reflect upon what I see around me.

Yes, It’s ThatTime of Year Again

Friends,

You know the least favorite part of my work on behalf of FORCE: Facing Our Risk of Cancer Empowered is asking for funds to support the critical work this organization so effectively accomplishes, but as Liza Minnelli rightly sang in “Cabaret,” “Money makes the world go round.”

You also know that your philanthropic donation (no matter the size) will help ensure that FORCE is able to continue to raise awareness about inherited genetic mutations (most people who carry them are unaware of their status), offer emotional support, provide practical, evidence-based resources and scientific updates, advance targeted research, advocate for protections on behalf of those in the hereditary cancer community, and more. Most vital of all, thanks to FORCE, no one has to travel this journey alone.

Lastly, you know that the FORCE community and the work to which we, a cadre of mostly volunteers, are deeply devoted mean so much to the countless individuals and families affected by hereditary cancer-causing mutations – including me.

For these reasons and so many others, I appreciate your support of this cause and am extremely grateful to have you in my life.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you,
~ Jane.

Shechinah at #FORCE17

Last Friday afternoon, as I do each week, I texted a few friends a Shabbat shalom message: “Shabbat shalom from Orlando and #FORCE17 – annual hereditary cancer conference. 🌞”

One of them responded with this: “Shabbat shalom to you, too, in sunny Florida. Will there be a Shabbat service?”

Our conversation continued.

Me: “The place is crawling with M.O.T.s, but Friday night is reserved for “show and tell,” a different kind of ‘service’ for those facing tough decisions.”

My friend: “HaShem is found in many places and in many ways.”

Me: “She (Shechinah, the feminine divine presence of God) definitely is here. There’s something that feels very sacred about empowered women and pikuach nefesh (saving a life).”

My friend: “It will be a wonderful Shabbat, even if you are not in temple."

Me. “Indeed.”

#FORCE17 was this year’s annual hereditary cancer conference organized by FORCE: Facing Our Risk of Cancer Empowered , a grass-roots, non-profit organization devoted to providing support, research, resources, and advocacy to those affected by hereditary cancer. Approximately one in 400 people in the general population carries a BRCA mutation, significantly increasing their lifetime risk of breast and ovarian cancer (in women) and male breast cancer and prostate cancer (in men), as well as raising the likelihood for others, including pancreatic cancer and melanoma. Hereditary mutations can be transmitted from either parent to both sons and daughters. Among Ashkenazi Jews, the prevalence of BRCA mutations is 10 times greater than in the general population; approximately one in 40 individuals carries a mutation, and most are unaware of their status as carriers.

Why I Keep Telling My BRCA Story

Recently, I was invited to write about my BRCA journey for Invitae, a genetic information company, as part of a campaign to inform and inspire people to understand the impact of hereditary breast cancer. The hope is that these stories will jump-start a Facebook conversation about hereditary cancer.

In recognition of Hereditary Breast and Ovarian Cancer (HBOC) Week, which bridges ovarian cancer awareness month in September with breast cancer awareness month in October, I am pleased to share the piece I wrote for Invitae.

Although I tell my BRCA story again and again, it never seems to get old. There are always new people to hear it, and its potential to change the trajectory of just one person’s life makes the telling and the retelling – and all the sharing – worth it.

Last Tuesday marked the fourth anniversary of my prophylactic bilateral mastectomy (PBM) and reconstruction.  It was surgery that I believe saved my life.  FORCE: Facing Our Risk of Cancer Empowered has been equally life-saving in my BRCA journey.  If you're the least bit inclined to support this incredible organization during its annual fundraising campaign, I'd be grateful. The letter below provides addition information about this year's campaign and my ongoing involvement with the organization.  

July 21, 2015

Dear Friends and Family,

Thank you for visiting my FORCE fundraising page!  

Four years ago today, I underwent life-saving, life-changing, and life-affirming surgery that kept me in the hospital for five nights, including one in intensive care, and then at home recovering for more than eight weeks.  As tough as it was, I'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

Where's JanetheWriter?

Today, I'm blogging over here, where I've put myself "out there" in an intensely personal way.  I'm a tad nervous about what may get posted in the comments section of the piece, but hopeful, too, that people will be respectful of the tough choices faced by those of us affected by hereditary breast and ovarian cancer (HBOC) -- and the decisions we make to preserve our health and save our own lives.

As I always say, if the post raises awareness about BRCA mutations in even one family where they weren't considered before, my "out-there-ness" will have been worth the effort.  For more information about these genetic defects, visit the FORCE website or be in touch with me directly.

Brought to You by the Letter "B"

For a long time, I've known that my Aunt Claire and her first cousin, Phyllis, both have middle names that begin with "B" -- Claire Bertha and Phyllis Beverly -- and that they were named in memory of the same person.  Except that the person's name began with "B," I knew nothing more.

So I asked my Aunt Claire, who told me that it was my grandfather's mother, Brana.

Looking the name up in my copy of the Complete Dictionary of English and Hebrew First Names, I could not find it as Aunt Claire spelled it:  B-r-a-n-a.

However, the last entry on the bottom of page 294 is "Brina." In addition to noting a Hebrew spelling of bet-resh-yud-yud-nun-aleph, the entry says, "From the Yiddish, meaning 'brown.'  Also, from the Slavic, meaning 'protector.'"

The first entry on the top of page 295 is "Brine."  Like the English spelling, which is nearly identical to Brina except for the last letter, so too does the Hebrew spelling have a different letter at the end:  bet-resh-yud-yud-nun-ayin.  The description of the name, however, is identical:  "From the Yiddish, meaning 'brown.'  Akin to Brune."

Here's what Kolatch has to say about Brune:  "From the Yiddish, meaning 'brown,' or from the German name Brunhild, meaning 'fighter in armor.' See also Brina and Brine."  Like the English, the Hebrew spelling is slightly different than the two previous names:  bet-resh-vav-nun-ayin.

Satisfied that one of these variants was my great-grandmother's name, I asked Aunt Claire what she knew about her.  She said she didn't know much except that she'd died young, and that nobody talked much about her.  Her husband, Jacob, for whom I am named, remarried and lived into his 90s.

I have to admit that Aunt Claire's descriptions of her paternal grandparents make me wonder if it was Brina who carried the BRCA gene mutation that appears to have been passed along to my grandfather (he died from prostate cancer), and definitely came down to my mom, to my aunt, and to me.

Although we'll never know the answer, of course, it seems plausible to me.