Non-Traditional Traditions

Kelvin, Tanya, Sophia, Jen and Ella

I am not a religious person. Actually, I eschew western religion's  dogma, I don't believe in heaven and hell, or that one religion could possibly be more true than another, but it serves its purpose for those who believe. However, I do respect the value in traditions. That's why I make an effort every year to partake in some traditions associated with my Judaic history.

I received a pretty intense Jewish education from K through high school that taught me valuable lessons about my people's history and customs, global human values like charity, work ethic and basic respect for one another. The most glaring thing that has stuck with me is not the knowledge of what happened in Exodus or why we eat Matzah on Passover, but the importance of passing down customs from generation to generation to maintain a sense of identity and belonging. I feel I am typical of most Jews in the world, in that I'm much happier picking and choosing the traditions that suit me and don't follow rules that make no sense.

Sophia (1/2 Jew), Kelvin (gentile), Andrew and Jen
(Jews...sort of)

To that end, I led another low-pressure Seder on Tuesday night. We had Matzah and the Passover plate and read some of the Haggadah, even drank all the appropriate glasses of wine (though maybe out of turn). But with some minor discrepancies:

I didn't have walnuts to make the haroseth so I used some logic. Haroseth, normally a mixture of apples, walnuts, wine and cinnamon, represents the mortar with which the Jews were required to make bricks for the pharaoh. I used peanut butter instead, whose consistency is more like mortar than just about any other food I have in my kitchen. Turned out great, and it's surprisingly good with bitter herbs and parsley on a piece of matzah.

The seder plate. Notice the easter egg and
the dollop of peanut butter
 (and lack of shank bone)

Our hard boiled egg was an easter egg the kids painted (Tanya is not Jewish so we celebrate Easter as well), and we forgot the shank bone because we were going to take it from the Safeway roasted chicken we bought, but we forgot. Oh well.

I forgot the wine cup for the prophet Elijah, so we all drank a little extra on the back end.

Sophia, the youngest in the house, said only the first question of the required four. Actually, she repeated what Tanya told her to say.

We did eat Matzah ball soup, made by my beautiful Shiksah wife Tanya, but instead of brisket I made a traditional middle eastern feast, with tabouleh, hummus and falafel. (Fear not, we had chicken, albeit the already roasted one from Safeway) and some homemade potato kugel. The tabouleh, however, had couscous in it, which may not be permitted on Passover (no grains).

I hid the aifkomen, a piece of Matzah that the kids search for and get money when they find it. Then they hid it for the adults, who got no such cash prize.

We explained the meaning of Passover to everyone who attended (the four of us and a Jewish friend and her gentile fiance) and inferred some valuable lessons from it. 1) Having slaves is bad. 2) Freedom is the most under-appreciated virtue in western society. 3) It's important to have faith in whatever you believe. 4) Seders are much more enjoyable with more wine. 5) Cleaning up from the seder is never fun, but... 6) The leftovers make it worth it.

Happy Pesach.

Persistence vs Pigheadedness

Last month, I gave a talk to Ella's class on the writing process. Befitting a group of second graders, there were a lot of questions. A boy named Jake asked if I ever got frustrated enough to make me want to quit writing.

"Absolutely," I said.

Jake's hand spiked up again. "Then why don't you?"

I thought for a moment, embarrassed at my inability to immediately answer the query. I stammered, blurting out phrases like "try hard" and "follow through," but I couldn't quite come up with an answer I was happy with. "I'll think about it," I told them.

The class seemed satisfied but later that day I pondered why indeed I don't quit after spending five hours working on one sentence, or after receiving dozens of rejection letters for my fiction. It certainly can be frustrating, and my time might be better served doing something less challenging, like yard work or laundry.

I wondered: Is it ever OK for a parent to encourage their child to give up?

No parent chooses to have children who quit when the going gets tough. However, we all make difficult choices in our lives, some of which involve walking away. Persistence can turn to pigheadedness quickly, and the results aren't always positive. We want to teach our kids that effort pays off, but sometimes it takes more strength to quit than to keep going. Think of physical confrontations, toxic relationships and a cold blackjack table at the Bellagio.

There is a difference between quitting and completing. We are responsible to see that our children give an acceptable effort, but we also should advise them when to move on and try something better suited to them. If they exert a reasonable effort and still don't like what they're doing, perhaps it's not the right activity for them. It's better to seek something they enjoy than to give a less-than-appropriate effort at something they don't.

Ella wasn't crazy about ballet and wanted to quit in mid-season. My wife and I made her finish the full session and didn't sign her up for the next one. She has since chosen to try soccer (two seasons) and now guitar (one year and counting) and we're prepared to support more. If we had made her continue dancing, she'd probably be a good ballerina. But would she have thrived doing something she didn't love?

Sometimes, we have to prod Ella to practice guitar, but she enjoys it once she begins. She likes her teacher, has always loved music and hasn't yet expressed an interest in quitting. If she decides she wants to stop, I'll cautiously encourage otherwise, however, sadly.

As far as the writing goes, the reason I don't quit is that I simply love to do it, and following dreams takes persistence. So here's my advice to Jake and the rest of Mrs. P's second-grade class: Hard work always pays off if you really love what you do.

Mexico Dispatches

Me dancing at the Grand Mayan pool...without my wallet

Most family vacations contain some kind of challenge. Most of the time it involves the kids. Someone gets hurt, sick, loses something important...the possibilities are endless. On our family vacation to the Riviera Maya for Spring Break, the kids were fantastic. Dad was the one who caused all the problems.

There was the “lost wallet” incident.

And the “swimming cell phone” incident.

And best of all, the “Getting-lost-in-Cancun-at-night-and-running-the-red-light-and-getting-stopped-by-non-English-speaking-policia” incident.

Sophia, my 5-year-old, saved the day on that one. Go figure.

Yes, I lost my wallet. I either left it in the unlocked rental car overnight and someone took it, or it fell out of our stuff as we unloaded the car from a busy day trip to Isla Mujeres, and someone took it. Either way, I only lost my drivers license (that’s 2 hours at the DMV I’ll never get back), about $180 in cash and some credit cards that were never used, wasted 2 hours searching for the wallet and not lounging in the pool, and we aborted our planned day trip to Playa Del Carmen. No worries, though: the kids and Tanya and I were content to spend the day at the pool anyway. 

On the bright side, I did learn how to say, with perfect Spanish pronunciation, “¿Ha encontrado cualquiera mi cartera?” (Has anyone found my wallet?) and “Perdí mi cartera el miércoles por la noche” (I lost my wallet wednesday night). 

Sophia jumping in the pool...without her daddy's wallet

All in all, I think we can all agree that I came out on top.

Playing on the beach...without a wallet

And as far as the swimming cell phone and the run-in with the police? Next dispatch...