Monday, December 18, 2017

Creating Sacred Spaces: Addressing Sexual Harassment and Assault - Maharat Fruchter & Rabbi Antine

Creating Sacred Spaces: Addressing Sexual Harassment and Assault
Parshat Miketz, Shabbat Chanukah
December 16, 2017

Rabbi Antine:
Maharat Fruchter and I spent a lot of time thinking about whether to discuss the issue of Sexual harassment and assault in the shul and if so how should it be done. While it is a complex discussion and we went back and forth on the particulars, we came to two conclusions: First, that we must speak about it and bring the conversation here. Part of being a Kehila Kedosha (a holy community) means that we provide support and strength for people who are struggling and in pain on an entire range of issues including victims of sexual harassment and assault. We must also be prepared to bring the most challenging conversations into our shul. Second, we have decided to give this sermon together, to model what conversations on this topic can look like between men and women. So I am going to begin the conversation by sitting down and listening to Maharat Fruchter. I will then get back up and offer some words and then she will close with an explanation of what we will do in the breakout sessions.

Maharat Fruchter:
Thank you, Rabbi Antine, for your partnership and support as we explore these difficult issues. I want to begin by telling you about the first broadway show I ever saw---Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor dreamcoat. As a seven year old just opening up to the world of studying Chumash, seeing saga of Yosef HaTzaddik depicted on stage was truly incredible. The colors, music, and costumes were enthralling, but I was struck by the seeming absence of women in the story. Who are the women, aside from the wife of Potifar, in the story of Yosef? If we really pay attention to this week’s parsha, we meet an important player: Yosef’s wife Osnat.

Pharaoh honors Yosef by giving him Osnat, “the daughter of Potiphera, priest from the city of On” as his wife (Gen 41:45). Ultimately, she becomes the mother of Menashe and Efraim. Chazal are puzzled by Osnat’s origins and her name. Who is this seemingly foreign addition to the family, Osnat Bat Potifera?

One approach from the Midrash is that Osnat is actually Dinah’s daughter, conceived after the rape of Dinah by Shechem. After her birth, her family was so ashamed of her origins, that according to one tradition, Yaakov deserts her. Midrash Talpiyot teaches he places a golden plate around her neck to indicate that she is the product of a shameful rape, and the name “Osnat,” comes from the word “Sneh”, or shrubbery, that Yaakov leaves her in. She is found later by the house of Potifar, lying between the thorns in the bush and is ultimately raised there. Another approach? That she is named “Osnat” on account of the “Ason,” the disaster, that occurs in Shechem on account of Dinah’s rape.

You may wonder about the disturbing idea that Yaakov could desert his own granddaughter. Until not long ago, however, women were actually encouraged to give up their children conceived through rape for adoption so they wouldn’t have to deal with the stigma and shame. In Andrew Solomon’s book, Far From the Tree, a book of stories of parents who deal with having exceptional children, he discusses the example of women who conceive through rape. Those who choose to keep their children often face stigma and disgrace. Furthermore, they have to constantly struggle to engage with these children without blaming them for the trauma that happened to them. One woman promises that she loves her child, but “when she touches me, it feels like hundreds of razor blades scraping across my skin, like I'm going to die.”

In some ways, Osnat perhaps represents what it feels like to carry around a sexual assault with you, like a golden plate around your neck, for your whole life--and beyond. Understanding that there is a huge spectrum of harassment and assault--ranging from inappropriate comments to physical assault, I believe it is safe to say that just about the entire women’s section today is carrying some Osnat with them at all times. Walking around as a woman in this world means always being aware of that identity. We learn to “be nice” in the face of inappropriate comments, to shrug off lewd catcalls or withstand unwanted touch that can make you shudder. We learn how to walk home at night alone looking over your shoulder, even if there is no immediate threat of danger.

I have many stories that lead to my identity as an Osnat. I’d like to share one of them with you today. To be totally honest, I hesitated greatly to share. The reasons I hesitated sheds light on why victims in general are afraid to share their stories. First, I worry about the shame that I’ll carry in the revealing of the story. Many women report shame just in sharing. Just like Dinah. Just like Osnat. Second, I know that when women speak up about these issues, they can easily be viewed, by both men and women, as one of these many lovely qualities: cold, “asking for it”, politically motivated, need to get over it, or too sensitive. But I will share. Not because my story is unique, but because it is not. To assume that people are making these stories up is painful and incorrect. And because unless it happens to someone you know or to you, you can’t imagine what it really is.

It was some years ago, on the way home from a friend’s wedding. The wedding was your typical wedding, from the shmorg all the way to the sheva brachos at the end, with spirited dancing and a glowing chattan and kallah. After a long and beautiful evening, I hitched a ride with a friend and her husband. She was the driver, and another friend of ours sat in the front. In the back was the couple’s baby, the husband of the driver, and me. In the middle of the trip, black velvet kippah on his head and wedding ring on his hand, he assaulted me. As the car continued to drive and he didn’t stop, and the baby continued to scream, there was nothing I could do, I sat there, unable to move. I toyed with opening the car door at a red light. I played with opening the car door at 15 miles per hour and rolling out, braving the injury that would ensue. I wished I could scream like the baby was screaming, but as his wife sat chatting with a friend about the front seat about the wonderful chasuna, and he had me locked in and silenced, the best I could do was just imagine that I was the one screaming, not the baby.

Being a victim of sexual violence can change you forever. Andrew Solomon quotes Marina James, another rape victim, who says she related to veterans returning from Iraq. "They've seen horrific things that they could never express. They come home and they don't know how to use their bodies; they're different. Nobody understands and they return to a community that has all these expectations that no longer make sense. That is exactly how I feel,” says James.

So, yes it can change you.

But I can’t help to to be reminded of another baby who is deserted and encounters a “Sneh”--Moshe Rabbenu, who while he started in the darkest, loneliest place, ultimately encounters God at a burning bush and becomes the shepherd of the Jewish people. My deep hope is that victims can emerge from the thorns in the way that is most healing for them. Whether by telling their story, finding deep and nurturing support, or by advocating for others, may we always find the presence of God burning brightly from the place we felt first deserted or silenced. Though we reject the trauma and try to prevent it, when it happens, may it be transformed into spiritual grit, and into our ability to radiate the Divine.

My hope is that for those of us who have gone through some version of this story, your stories are welcome here, in this shul.  I want to communicate that we want to have this conversation and it belongs here just as much as anywhere else. While the halachot around sexual boundaries and touch (yichud and negiyah) are absolutely not a silver bullet that will solve sexual violence (since it is primarily about an abuse of power), they acknowledge that we are human and can give into abuses of power. They are amazing tools within which we can have a conversation around boundaries openly. Furthermore, In a halachic culture that cares so much about the boundaries around touch, it only makes sense that our language should reflect the way we relate to those boundaries.

Finally, this is only the beginning of a conversation.  I know that these issues are complex, and my deep hope is that anyone who wants to ask hard questions can feel like they can. Therefore, we are providing the types of spaces that can model what asking hard questions in a patient, gentle, and curious way can look like.

Rabbi Antine and I have thought very deeply and for many hours about this Shabbat morning. While it is just the beginning of a much longer conversation, I look forward to being in partnership with my holy community in thinking about these issues.

Rabbi Antine:
Maharat Fruchter: Thank you for your courage in sharing those words. You have opened up our hearts, souls and minds to really think about these difficult and painful issues. I would like to respond with 3 brief points:The first is something that I have come to learn over the last month or so in conversations with Maharat Fruchter, with my wife Sarah, and with other female relatives and friends. I am speaking for myself but I am sure this will resonate with many other men.

I always understood the terrible nature of sexual assault and the permanent scars and trauma it could leave on its victims. But I think that when it comes to inappropriate comments and what might be called borderline cases of sexual harassment, I did not understand the enormity of its impact. This is because, I, as a man, have never in my life been afraid while walking to my car at night. I have never tried to figure out how fast the man behind me is walking and what are his intentions and if something happens what is my exit strategy. But for women, especially if they have been victims (but even if not), this is a major part of their existence. A catcall or even an inappropriate comment can trigger deep fear. A lewd joke can make her question someone's intentions and whether she is safe. In addition, every time, we as men, make inappropriate comments about and towards women we are diminishing their Tzelem Elokim (their Godliness). Instead of encountering women as human being whom we should learn from and share ideas with, we are objectifying them. This is point #1.

The second point is that when we think about all of the accusations and those forced to resign, it could seem like it is "out there." It is out in Media, in Hollywood and in Politics. Well I am here to say that the issue is also "in here." It is in our larger Jewish community and it is even in our shul community. In the last few weeks, I have heard from women who have experienced inappropriate words and touching in our shul. This should never happen. How could it happen in a kehillah kedosha. It is unacceptable and will not be tolerated. I know sometimes men feel like they have to make a joke or a comment but please remember that you don't have to be the funniest guy in the room. Please err on the side of boundaries, respect, and dignity. Inappropriate comments and touch will not be tolerated in our shul.

The final point is directed to Maharat Fruchter. I am so sorry you lost your voice in the back of that car on the way home from that wedding. But I’m so glad that you found it today. I am so glad that you have found your voice in so many ways and are are a spiritual leader of this shul. Thank you for your courage.  It was so important for all of us to hear because your story is the story of so many victims.

You spoke before about Osnat. The Medrash tells us the "rest of the story." After Osnat suffered so much, after she was kicked out of her house and adopted by the Potiphars, she was present at another case of sexual abuse. She was there when Yosef was sexually harassed (quid pro quo) by Potiphar’s wife. When Potiphar was about to kill Yosef, she spoke up.  She protected the victim. I know that so many Osnats have been completely silenced. I pray that everyone here (on both sides of the mechitzah) regain their voices. We need our voices to protect ourselves and to protect others who might suffer in the future. We need our collective voice to strengthen our Kehillah Kedoshah.

Maharat Fruchter:
Thank you, Rabbi Antine, for starting this process while modeling what an engaging, supportive communal and professional relationship looks like. After Kiddush, there will be three breakout sessions. Please proceed to to either the men’s group, the women’s group, or the JCADA information session. Each session will be facilitated by a mental health professional. Shabbat Shalom and please rise for Kiddush.

Resources from JCADA
What is sexual harassment?
- Uninvited or unwelcome verbal or physical behavior of a sexual nature, or requests for sexual favors,
especially by a person in authority toward a subordinate (such as an employee or student).
- Sexual harassment can be physical, verbal, or non-verbal
Unwelcome: sexual conduct is unwelcome whenever the person subjected to it considers it unwelcome.

Sexual harassment includes many things:
- Inappropriate touching, invasion of privacy (leaning over, cornering)
- Obscene gestures/jokes/comments/sexual looks/whistling
- Unwelcomed phone calls, texts, emails
- Pressure for sexual favors
- Pressure for dates
- Turning work discussions into sexual topics
- Personal questions about social or sexual life

Examples:
- When an employment decision, such as a promotion or assignment, is dependent upon submission to the sexual harassment
- When a work environment feels intimidating, hostile, or offensive and unreasonably interferes with an employee’s work performance

Resources:
Montgomery County Victim Assistance and Sexual Assault Program (VASAP)
24 hour crisis line: (240)777-HELP (4357)
Main Phone: (240)777-1355
Montgomery County Commission for Women
Counseling and Career Center
(240)777-8300
JCADA Jewish Coalition Against Domestic Abuse
(301)315-8041 – confidential helpline
(301)315-8040 – Main office line