Winter 2004-2005

Girls fleeing Hasidism. Hijacked by compulsions. Genetics & Breast Cancer--What to Do? Her pulpit leads to politics on Chicago’s mean streets. One woman’s Birthright Israel experience.

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In This Issue

Lilith Feature

Leaving the Hasidic World

Lilith Feature

Charlotte Newberger Poetry Contest

More Articles

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The Memory Quilt


Why a fabric artist cut up all her parents’ clothes.

Joseph’s Niece


Serah was still a child when Joseph’s brothers asked her to sing a little song for her grandfather, Jacob. For Joseph had sent his brothers to bring the House of Jacob... Read more »

Another Kind of Israel Diary 1959-2004


The prop jet left Idlewild Airport in New York carrying my parents and me on our two-week visit. A precocious fifth grader, I had been given a travel diary, in which... Read more »

Israel: A Birthright Diary


On returning from Israel, I find myself committed to stand firmly...exactly where I had been before

Things My Mother Gave Me


Charlotte Newberger Poetry Contest - Third Place

Landlord to such a Multitude


Charlotte Newberger Poetry Contest - Second Place

Preparing for Yom Kippur


Charlotte Newberger Poetry Contest - First Place



The vertigo came early this year, catching her by surprise. She wasn’t expecting the a chiness in her bones and the swirl of her head until about a month later, when the... Read more »

For This I Went to Rabbinical School


Foregoing a pulpit for political work on Chicago’s mean streets.

Genetics & Breast Cancer


Erlich, a physician, introduces us to "pre-vivors," young women wrestling with a family legacy they never expected.



Jennifer Traig wanted to be a good Jewish girl. Her religious convictions were hijacked by her compulsions.

Seeking a Way Out


Some Hasidic men, despite no newspapers or T.V., learn to question. Escape routes for women follow a different path.

“Yearning to Breathe Free”


Behind women’s masks of perfection ("My kids are wonderful. My life is happy. Feminists are wrong.") having to keep even tiny transgressions (like reading books in English, or flirting in a bar) from the eyes of the neighbors.



Four years ago I celebrated my first Thanksgiving. I remember sitting on a metal park bench outside of my grandmother’s apartment building trying to find the right words to describe how... Read more »

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