Sherbet Cleanse at Shabbat Service

Dan Schwartz.

I was a freshman in High School. Dan was a senior.

You already know the rest...

He was 18, smart, popular and handsome. He had a car (uh huh). He spoke at pep rallies (uh huh). He was sexually active (uh huh). He had green eyes with little flakes of gold in them (uh huh). He wore Cool Water cologne and looked amazing in a suit (yeah). Oh yes, Dan was the dreamiest (sigh) and I worshiped the ground he walked on. He was the god of my idolatry.

I was 14, overweight and awkward but very social. I was the president of my church youth group. I only listened to Christian music and Broadway soundtracks. I had giant curly hair that I hated and brushed into a frizzy ponytail tied with a big ribbon in a pathetic attempt to look like the beautiful ribbon tied soft ponytailed cheerleaders I so desperately wanted to fit in with. I'd never kissed a boy - except once, at church camp, but I'm pretty sure that didn't "count". I was well liked and not a total social outcast, but not even the weird boys would have classified me as "dreamy" or "pretty".

I'm the gem in the middle with my head turned. Note that sweet sweet
 brushed out ponytail. Oh yeah. The 90s ruled!

There is no reason Dan Schwartz and I should have ever interacted. No reason our worlds would collide. Except one. We were on the speech and debate team together. Yes, speech and debate - that glorious group of young intelligent people who felt very comfortable with public speaking. Speech and debate - that magical experience where there is one adult and 15 clever teenagers with raging hormones and a complete disregard for authority. Speech and debate meant hours of unsupervised down time waiting for quarters, semi-finals and finals. Speech and debate meant overnight hotel stays for out-of-town tournaments. Speech and debate meant long late night bus rides in the dark...

On one such bus ride I found myself sitting in the seat behind Dan Schwartz near the back of the bus. It was late. It was dark. Everyone was sleeping except us. Dan's head was resting against the window facing the aisle. The moonlight reflected through the window highlighting the sharp curve of his perfect face. I just sat there silently staring at the side of his head like a weirdo. He leaned over the back of the seat, smiled and started a conversation with me. My 30 year old face is flushed just thinking about this moment. I don't remember exactly what was happening in my 14 year old brain at the time but I'm pretty sure it was something like OhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygod
OhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygod.

He talked to me like I was a girl. Just a regular girl. He asked about my classes, my church and my love life (blush). He confided in me. We talked about his family and his failed relationships. We talked about his future. Then, without really thinking about it, I decided to take down my hair. I'd put my wet curls into a bun for the tournament that day and the tight pull of my hair was becoming uncomfortable. At this time in my life I didn't have the capacity to be sexy or seductive - just let me make that clear. I was probably tugging at my ponytail holder and scratching my head like child with lice, because I'm super smooth like that. The second I let my hair down I knew I'd made a horrible mistake. He was going to see what I really looked like and then he was going to turn around in horror and never ever speak to me again.

But that's not what happened.

Dan looked at me and said, "You look really pretty with your hair down. You should wear it that way more often."

And I was never the same.

After Dan's comment I stopped brushing out my curls, learned to love my natural hair, wore it down pretty much EVERY SINGLE DAY, fell in love with a super cute boy and landed my first real kiss - fireworks and all. All because Dan Schwartz said I was pretty? NOPE. All because someone I looked up to helped me understand that I don't need to be anyone but my true self. Dan helped me understand that my true self is not only enough - my true self is beautiful.

It was a powerful gift. I doubt Dan ever had any idea how much that comment changed the trajectory of my life. To this day, when I am feeling insecure about myself I think about Dan's comment. About 6 years and 75 extra pounds later I was driving around Springfield, MO with my windows down rocking out to some sweet tunes as I loved to do. Two men pulled up beside me and started to chastise me about my weight and hair. They called me Chewbacca (my hair was really really long at the time) and made Chewbacca-esq noises. It was brutal and humiliating. I was trapped at that stoplight - my eyes fixated on the bright red glow of the light praying for green to come to my rescue. I stared straight ahead, not wanting to let them know how their comments were hurting me. Instead, I focused on Dan Schwartz and his message of love and self-acceptance. I drove off feeling sorry for those boys who found pleasure in shaming a silly ole fat girl who was all alone driving around on Friday night.

But I wonder if I would have felt differently had I not had Dan's words to comfort me or the kind words of so many others. How many things have I said that were helpful and healing for people? How many things have been hurtful? Have I been anyone's Chewbacca tormentor? It's possible.

Oh, the power of words.

All this came up for me when I decided to attend a Jewish Shabbat service...

Dan gave me three real gifts other than allowing me to bask in his beautiful presence:

1. An understanding that my true self is enough and I am indeed beautiful JUST THE WAY I AM.

2. The power of kind words at the right moment.

3. A strong belief (prejudice) that all Jewish people are awesome and generally better than non-Jewish people.

See, Dan Schwartz was Jewish.

I didn't realize it till many years later, but Dan's comment left me with a prejudice. Upon learning someone was Jewish I immediately cloaked them in all these wonderful characteristics. In my mind ALL Jewish people were smart, funny, kind, thoughtful, intelligent, striking, open-minded and awesome. Yes, yes, I know, this is totally not okay. It's the same thing as stereotyping the Asian kid as the "smart one". You shouldn't judge people based on their religion or gender or race or ethnicity or hair color or sexual orientation or any of that other crap. (whining) But it's hard. And I'm still working on it.

Getting ready for Shabbat service I had to check my prejudices and try to clear my mind so I could accept this experience for what it was and only what it was - kind of like cleansing your palate with sherbet in between courses, which I love and think we should do at all meals and perhaps metaphorically when meeting new people. Hmm...maybe next time before meeting someone new I'll just scream out "SHERBET CLEANSE" before I talk to them. Then make an elaborate production of breathing and clearing my mind so I don't put any of my stereotypes and prejudices on them. Oh yeah, I think somebody is about to make SO MANY NEW FRIENDS.

Even though I tried to clear my mind my thoughts drifted back to Dan. So, in his honor I wore my hair down.

Chewbacca had straight hair assholes.
Gawd, get your Star Wars facts right!

Shabbat services at Central Reform Congregation in St. Louis, MO are held Friday night at 7:30pm and Saturday morning at 10:00 am. I chose Friday at 7:30.

I entered the space and was handed a large spiral notebook containing all the prayers for the evening Shabbat service. People were greeting one another and chatting. I tried to stay as open minded as possible, but then I overheard some ladies talking about how they recently won a trophy at the St. Louis (gay) Pride Parade for "Best Walking Group".

Oh crap. These people are lovely. No. No... Just because people support gay pride in such a fabulous way that they earn a trophy for it doesn't mean you should automatically attribute more positive characteristics to this church and it's congregation. Hold out. Stay open. SHERBET CLEANSE!

But it didn't matter. This place was amazing. It was an all around delightful experience.

Central Reform doesn't refer to it's space as a church or a temple or a synagogue but instead Sukkat Shalom, or "Shelter of Peace". I liked that.

The majority of the Shabbat service is in Hebrew - sing-song Hebrew. My favorite part was when we sang "Lie la lie" instead of actual words because I don't really know Hebrew and "lie la lie" is really fun to sing in harmony and also it reminded me of Simon and Garfunkel's "The Boxer" which is a really great song.

The service had a specific order that is followed (more or less) for every service, which would explain why most people knew the prayers by heart and did not need their books like I did. Depending on the time of day and the time of year the words of the service vary slightly.

There were some rituals I was not acquainted with like - fanning the flame of the candle to your forehead and then holding your face and singing the prayer. At one point people started bowing randomly. For a while we turned around and faced the back of the room. But, apparently I blended in well. One woman turned to me to ask a question about the service thinking I was a regular. I couldn't help it, I took it as a huge compliment. There was a slightly confused look on the woman's face when I responded, "I have no idea" beaming ear to ear.

When it was time for "the lesson" the Rabbi walked up and spoke with poise and clarity. The sound of her voice and the pattern of her speech were immensely comforting. Her message was simple but powerful. She spoke briefly about current events (Zimmerman) and how "broken" the world was. She talked about those "Why me God?" moments and pleading with God for what we want when *often what we have is enough. Focusing on the good/focusing on what you DO have instead of focusing on the bad/focusing on what you DON'T have - that was her message. There was a Hebrew word for this concept of "what you have is enough". Ravlack? Ravloch? I'm not sure of the spelling. I couldn't find it on the Google. But I liked the concept. Focusing on the good has been a theme of late. I'm doing my best to let that message sink in.

Service ended with "Shaloms" and hugs and snacks. On my way out the door I was forced to take an apple juice cup from a woman who was blocking my exit. She was aggressively offering snacks to people. They had this beautiful spread and people were staying after to mingle and eat and be awesome together. But, I had to scoot. I had a very important date with a jug of sangria and a Liverpool Rummy match to attend.

I drove home with the windows down and my long curls flying free. It's been quite some time since I've cared about the cruel remarks of others. I'm awesome. Accept it and move on. I've got Dan Schwartz to thank for that. And all of you of course. Have I told you how grateful I am for your support along this journey? Have I told you how much it's meant to me? Have I awkwardly sung "Have I Told You Lately That I Love You" in your ear in my worst Rod Stewart whispered singing voice? Well, I need to. You need that experience. You also need to know that you are truly magnificent just as you are. You need to accept that about yourself and move on with confidence. Because it's true. Dan Schwartz says so.


Sangria anyone? I'm just kidding. I drank it all. (but I could make more...)