Support the arts

Hebrew names

The day that our kids visited SJCS, the first-grade teacher was introducing herself to Aaron, and asked him his Hebrew name, because at SJCS all the kids go by their Hebrew names. Aaron had no idea what she was talking about. "I think you should just call me Aaron," he said. She explained that she would be calling everyone else by a name that was not the same as their usual name; Aaron's friend Adam, for example, is called Shalom in her class. (Adam finds this hilarious because it means to say hello to him you say, "Shalom, Shalom!") Aaron insisted that she should just call him Aaron. She didn't push it.

The truth is that we did not give our kids Hebrew names when they were babies. Hebrew names are normally given at the bris, and we did not circumcise our children. We didn't do it to our boys for the same reason we wouldn't have done it to daughters; we think it is not right, and hope this tradition changes. This was a decision Dale and I made very thoughtfully. It was also a decision made outside community, and we have never had much opportunity to reconcile our decision with whatever our community might think of it. So when the teacher asked for Aaron's Hebrew name, I stood nearby feeling like there was a whole lot I was not saying.

When I got out in the hall with my friend I blurted out the whole thing, probably in one sentence, including how nervous I was. She was great; she said, "Well, we don't check for that," which made me laugh. She shared that her family had had the opposite experience; they had made a rather mindless decision to circumcise their boys (and give them Hebrew names), just because it is what one does. I relaxed. 

That night, Dale and I decided this was a good topic for a dinner table conversation. We told the boys that we had not given them Hebrew names because that is usually done at the time of circumcision and we had not circumcised them. (I am going to use "us" for Dale/me and "them" for Jordan/Aaron because mostly I don't remember who said what.)

Us: Do you know what circumcision is?

Them: No. 

Us: It's when they stretch out the piece of skin over the end of your penis and cut it off.

Them: Aaaaghh! Whaaat!

Us: Seriously. I am sorry to tell you this but it is true. Most Jewish families do this to their boys.

[Both of them had their hands clapped over their groins and were looking at us wide-eyed. I think they were not sure whether to laugh or run.]

Dale: You could have this done now if you choose to.

Them: NooOOOOooo! I do not want that!

Rachel: That's why we didn't do it. We thought you would not want that.

Aaron: [jumps out of his chair and throws his arms around me] Mommy, you made the right decision! Thank you so much!

Now isn't that the moment a mother waits for? The whole thing was very entertaining. We went on.

Rachel: Now as far as a Hebrew name goes, you have some choices. You could pick your own Hebrew name. Or Daddy and I could pick names for you; that is traditional. We could just agree on your names in our family. Or, we could ask Rabbi Jason if he would be willing to give you your Hebrew name in a special ceremony, with a special blessing, without cutting off the end of your penis. 

Them: Aaaaghh! Mommy stop saying that!

Rachel: Okay. We will just say "circumcision" instead. Is that okay?

Them: Yes.

Rachel: Okay. So if we want to we can ask Rabbi Jason. I don't know if his answer would be yes or no. For some people the circumcision and the Hebrew name go together. For others, maybe not.

This seemed like enough for the kids to take in at the dinner table. Later, though, I read up on Hebrew names, and was impressed by Chabad's assertion that a parent's choice of a Hebrew name for their child constitutes a "minor prophecy." Dale and I remembered that we had actually chosen a Hebrew name for Jordan (but not told anyone else). We had not done this for Aaron, but we quickly realized what Aaron's Hebrew name should be. The next night, we told the kids their Hebrew names, and they were pleased. So really I think we're all set. I don't know if we (or they) will want a ceremony at some point, but for now, the matter feels pleasantly resolved. 

Schools

I am the sort of person that likes to get a jump on things, so last month, I visited a middle school. I worry about middle school. Not only is middle school a tough time in life, I think it is likely to be especially daunting for Jordan, not so much socially but organizationally. Six different teachers, six different homework schedules, certain things you need to bring to or from school only on Tuesdays, stuff you have to get from your locker before 4th period because you won't have time after 4th period and you need to bring it home to finish in time for 2nd period on Friday morning... I don't want to undersell Jordan, but I think this kind of thing is likely to totally snow him. Our neighborhood middle school has a good reputation with some people, especially its music program, but it is huge: there are six hundred sixth graders. Our friend with a sixth-grade son says he can't physically get to his locker in the middle of the day because it's just too far to walk. This is not promising.

So we are looking around. The public school system offers a few "option schools," which are lottery schools with a special theme or emphasis. I went on a tour of the option school nearest us and I liked it pretty darned well. It is a K-8, which I like philosophically (I think it's good for the middle school kids to have leadership opportunities, and a reason not to swear in the hallways), and it is an "E-STEM" school (Environmental Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math), which I think our kids would go for. It is a fairly new school (5 years old) with a hardworking visionary principal who has assembled a team of teachers who very much share her vision. And there are only 725 kids in the whole school (350 in the middle school, 6-7-8); so the scale of the thing is just a lot more manageable. In this environment, I would have more hope that someone would be keeping track of Jordan. 

In fact, I liked it enough that we started to think... why wait? Why not switch now? We could switch them both. I don't want to get into the details, but much as it pains us, we are not happy with our neighborhood school. We put in the paperwork. The lottery is this month.

Meanwhile, our friend Jessica is the admissions director for the Seattle Jewish Community School, which is K-5. It's a wonderful school, which we know because we have a lot of happy friends there -- much of our old SJCC preschool crowd, who are still some of our (and our kids') best friends. It has a big price tag, so we were prepared to be satisfied with our neighborhood school. Except now we're unsatisfied. When Jessica heard that we had put in to change to the K-8, she politely asked to have one conversation with us about her school. It is quite an awesome place; for one thing, the maximum class size is 20, and for that size class there are two full-time teachers who team-teach, one leading in the morning and one leading in the afternoon. In addition, a learning specialist spends all day supporting kids whose learning needs are different than the rest of the class, either needing extra challenges or extra support. And we have been made aware... that the sticker price is not the price we would pay. There is quite a lot of tuition assistance. (This is thanks in part to the extraordinary Samis Foundation, founded by a guy (Sam Israel) who was an immigrant cobbler who moved to Seattle before WWII, got lucrative contracts to make Army boots, used the profit to buy downtown real estate, and had no heirs; his foundation is partly dedicated to funding Jewish education for Seattle families.)

Dale and I went on a tour the other day, and we were practically in tears the whole time, it was so touching. When we visited the first grade classroom, so many of Aaron's friends (including Emanuel, Amara, and Adam) jumped up and cheered that the class's official greeter could hardly get over to greet us. Their teacher invited them to tell us some reasons why we should send our kids there, and the kids said, "Because the teachers are so awesome! Because we use art and games to learn better! Because we learn Hebrew! Because we are already their friends!" Both of our kids would join classes that literally have one of their best friends in them, as well as multiple other kids that they know from preschool and summer camp. The whole thing is just too good. Though it is a little weird to move Jordan for only one year, every year counts, and we feel sure that he can have a really good year at SJCS. And Aaron can have four. We don't feel at all sure of that elsewhere.

The kids liked the idea. They were very relaxed about it. The application includes them spending a day at SJCS for assessment; they did this this week, and had a great time. They were greeted like rock stars. Aaron's class sang him a Hello Song (and they were so excited they kind of freaked Aaron out; they had to be asked to do it again more calmly). The fourth graders, meanwhile, had each written Jordan a welcome letter saying how they looked forward to spending the day with him and why they like their school. The kids came home saying it was a wonderful place and they would be happy to go there.

So assuming that Sam Israel comes through for us, we're going. It feels like a big deal, to move out of our neighborhood school; but what we are moving into just seems way too good to pass up. Wish us luck.

Silly questions

I am filling out forms for summer camp, and the forms are particularly extensive for Camp Kalsman, the Jewish overnight camp Jordan will go to for the first time this summer. Some of the questions on the form are to be answered by the camper. Jordan has been to this camp for a day trip, and he has been on the receiving end of a lot of camp promotion through religious school.

R: Hey Jordan, I am filling out forms for camp, and they want to know what you are especially looking forward to. Any thoughts?
J: I really want to play on those play structures that they have. I am looking forward to a campfire, and canoeing, and being in a community. And the Jewish stuff. And the food. I think it's okay to say the food, right?
R: Sure. "Being in a community," wow, that is a very grownup thing to say.
J: So? I am looking forward to that.
R: Okay, I just mean that other kids might say "I want to be with my friends" or put it some other way. But that's great. They also want to know if there is anything you want to get out of camp.
J: Get out of?
R: Like, do you want to learn something, or come home different from when you left. Some people might say I want to make five new friends, or I want to learn to shoot a bow and arrow, or some other thing.
J: I think I am pretty good just as I am.
R: Then last they want to know if there is anything you want them to know about you.
J: I'm a pretty nice guy? These seem like kind of silly questions.
R: Some people might say, I hate to be tickled so never tickle me.
J: I actually kind of like being tickled. But you don't have to tell them that.
R: Some people might say, I love to be tickled, please tickle me all the time.
J: No, definitely don't say that.

This conversation was very amusing to me. Jordan is a pleaser; he likes to know the right answer, and give people answers that will make them happy, and clearly he felt that he knew the right answers to the first question. But the second two questions just seemed strange and unanswerable to him. He is not a goal-oriented kid; he doesn't decide to do something for some larger purpose; he just does it because it's fun, or because it's what we do. And what would anyone need to know about him? In his eyes, he's just a normal get-along guy, nothing anyone would need to adjust to or plan for. I don't think he even knows what that would mean. We do ask funny questions sometimes, we adults.

Outside and inside

In the car on the way home from grocery shopping.

Aaron: Mommy I think that I am what you might call sensitive.
Rachel: What do you mean by that?
Aaron: Because I ran and fell down and it didn't even hurt very much, but I cried.
Rachel: Yes. Maybe you feel things more, and that is called being sensitive. Or maybe, and this is what I think, maybe you show your feelings more. Your feelings are on the outside.
Jordan: I think that is right. What Aaron is feeling just comes right out.
Rachel: Jordan, I think you are not the same way.
Jordan: Yes. I keep my feelings more inside. I know how to make a bubble around bad feelings and then sometimes I can make the bubble go away. But you can't do that too much. There was a guy in a book who did that so much that he got a bad rash on his leg and it wouldn't go away until he let his feelings out.
Aaron: I always let my feelings out. So that would not happen to me.
Jordan: Also everyone can see your feelings, so they can help you. That is good. You show them you are sad and then they can maybe help you feel better.
Aaron: Also it's quick.
Rachel: There are good things about each of your ways. Jordan, I think what you are doing sometimes when you are quiet about your feelings is that you are cheering yourself up. You know how to help your own bad feelings go away.
Jordan: I think sometimes I don't know what I'm feeling.
Rachel: I totally get that.

Mini golf and goodbye

On our last day in Hawaii, we said our goodbyes to the marvelous house we stayed in... Here are our little surfer dudes on the lanai.

We took a last look at Hanalei Bay.

We also did a little shopping. Jordan picked out an extremely colorful shirt for himself; I don't have a picture of him in it but it is the same fabric as these dressing-room curtains. He loves bright colors and shrieked with delight when he saw himself in the mirror.

And, last but decidedly not least, we played a round of miniature golf! This golf course is also a gorgeous botanical garden, with interpretive signs all along explaining the cultural history of Hawaii. It's very well done.

Two more photos that don't have major narratives to accompany them: The boys in front of the Kilauea Fish Market, which tied with the Hanalei Dolphin for my favorite restaurant.

And the photo they took of us at the Smith Family Luau, another quite fun experience, touristy as all heck but a great time. Delicious food and wonderful entertainment, a whole cultural history of the islands through dance. And yes, many of the ladies were actually wearing those silly coconut bras. 

Anini Beach

(We have been home for a week, but I still have photos to share.) On our last day in Hawaii, we went to Anini Beach, one of the lovely keiki beaches on the north shore. The boys wanted to do some more snorkeling, this time with Aunt Deena; I wanted to do some more sitting in the shade reading a book. We were all satisfied.

Deena and Jordan stayed in one spot for quite a while laughing hysterically and horsing around in the current. We found out later that actually, the current was frighteningly strong, and they were really having trouble getting out of there. They kept a good attitude and didn't panic and eventually managed to swim like the dickens to a calm spot. But, swimmers beware: even at gentle beaches there are dangerous pockets.

Aaron collected coral. However, he respected the rule that one may not remove anything like that from the Hawaiian islands, at risk of being cursed by Pele, the Hawaiian volcano goddess. 

We enjoyed watching this dog and his human do a little surf-sailing or whatever this is called. Did the Polynesians bring dogs on their outrigger canoes?