The Privilege of Choosing Judaism

I was cleaning out my documents file earlier today when I came across the speech I gave at the conclusion of my conversion to Judaism.  It has been almost ten years, and reading through the speech, I am reminded of just how important this time in my life was.  I spent 2001 in study with Rabbi Aaron Rubinstein, who became not only my teacher, but my friend and advisor.  I drove the hour-and-a-half to Macon, GA every week or two to meet with him to discuss my readings, often drawing parallels with what was happening in the world at the time.*

I would return home from each of these meetings feeling so inspired—I had finally found the right path for me—and longing to share what I was learning with David (aka Mr. Man) and Amanda.  So much so, that they began to tease me with, “Aaron says…  Aaron says.”  I read so many books that year, old and new; books about Jewish history and Jewish holidays, books of prayers, and books on how to live a Jewish life.  I have quite a nice Jewish library and often turn to these when preparing for holiday celebrations.

Among my readings was a story about a young Jewish man who attended Harvard Law School at a time with there were limits on what Jews could achieve and when many law offices wouldn’t hire Jewish attorneys.  He was often asked by his classmates why he didn’t convert as this would make things easier for him.  Comments he chose to ignore.  When he was inducted into the Law Society, he gave a speech which began with “I am sorry I was born a Jew…” which was greeted with applause and shouts. “I am sorry I was born a Jew, but only because I wish I had the privilege of choosing Judaism on my own.”  Amazingly, this was greeted by first stunned silence, then applause, then a standing ovation. 

I feel choosing Judaism was a privilege, one that I hope to live up to.

Shabbat Shalom

Some of you may not know me, and some of you know me as Arnold and Bess Cotton’s daughter-in-law, and others as David Cotton’s wife.  My name is Kelly Enzor, and I recently completed my conversion working with Rabbi Rubinstein.  Even those of you who do know me, may not realize what an important role this congregation played in my being on the bimah today.

When I first met David, our being from different religious backgrounds wasn’t an issue for us.  I didn’t grow up in what most would consider a religious home; I didn’t attend church from the time I was old enough to make the decision on my own.  While I have always believed in God, I never really felt drawn to any particular Christian faith.  So, we decided that we would raise our daughter, Amanda, with information about both religions and let her make her own decisions.  We celebrated both the Jewish holidays and those most typical in the Christian community, Christmas and Easter; although I admit these were never celebrated from a religious standpoint.

My husband, David and I began joining Arnold and Bess here for holidays and family events several years ago.  It was through participating with you in this congregation, that I began to understand the meaning of Jewish community.  The more I was exposed to Jewish holidays and traditions at this synagogue and with our family, I began to realize that I was finding meaning and a level of comfort that I had never before obtained within a religious context.

Over time, I began to identify with Judaism and found myself wishing I was Jewish.  I found myself wanting to have the feelings of spirituality and community that I had found here in my and my family’s life on a regular basis.  I began to read books about choosing a Jewish life and decided to join a synagogue closer to home.  At each synagogue we attended, we compared the experience to what we had known here at Sha’arey Israel.  This synagogue created for us shoes that were very hard to fill.

By the time I decided to convert, it was a formality for me, but an important process for me and for the broader Jewish community.  While I felt Jewish, inevitably I would somehow be reminded that I wasn’t in both subtle and overt ways.  Today, I am Jewish, in my heart and in my thoughts, in how I live my life, in the eyes of other Jews, and in what I pass on to my daughter.

Many people have played critical roles in helping me reach this point in my Jewish life.  I would like to thank the Cottons, Meyersons and Baymes for you have become my family and I love you all very much.  I have never known a family to be as close and supportive as you are.  I have always felt embraced, accepted, and loved, and for this I feel very fortunate.  Arnold and Bess, thank you for your patience, your love and guidance, and for letting me find my own way.  I realize that it took a long time, but you were wise enough to know that my coming to Judaism in my own time would make the bond strongest.

David and Amanda, you, more than anyone else, have seen and felt the change in me and consequently your lives have changed as well.  Other than the occasional teasing, you have both been incredibly patient with my need to share everything I was learning with you.  Whether you intended to or not, you were with me on this journey and I couldn’t have done it without your love and support.

And finally, Rabbi Rubinstein, my teacher, my guide, and my friend throughout this spiritual journey, thank you.

*Rabbi Rubinstein moved to Memphis, Tennessee in 2005 where he leads a congregation at Beth Sholom. 

Looking Forward to Warmer Weather

We are a week away from our trip to the Philippines, and the snow of last Sunday, which is still on the ground—unheard of in Atlanta—and the subsequent three days of being housebound has certainly added to my excitement and anticipation. I have some last minute shopping to do and managed to get out yesterday as the temperature was above freezing for the first time in a week.

The roads were still icy, but the interstate was clear for the most part; although there were areas of Northbound 400 were whole lanes were iced over.  Luckily, most were driving at lower speeds than usual for Atlanta and being careful.  There were several occasions when I watched whole sheets of ice covered snow fly off the roofs of vehicles, remaining whole until they hit the road in an explosion of ice and snow—I gave any vehicle with snow still on the roof lots of space, fearful of having one of those sheets land on my windshield.

There couldn't be a better time for a trip to a warm climate.  We leave next Saturday, flying from Atlanta to Detroit, from there it is 21 hours direct to Manila. Thankfully we had enough Delta Skymiles to upgrade to first class; I don’t think I could do 21 hours in coach. Upstairs cabin with fully reclining seats!

We will be visiting our very good friends Bob and Mari who have been living in Manila for the last two-and-a-half years. They have planned a couple of trips for us over the two weeks we’ll be there—Palawan, volcano climbing, snorkeling, and a visit to the rice terraces—and there are numerous things close to Manila to do while they attend to work and children.

Watch for pictures of blue water and white-sand beaches.

Do People Buy Art They See Hanging in Restaurants? I Hope So.

In October, just after the tour of homes, I received an email from Jason at Stone Soup Kitchen asking if I’d be interested in hanging a few paintings in the restaurant. Now, SSK is one of my favorite Grant Park restaurants—and one of our best kept secrets—great for weekend brunch (you can actually get a table without the 45-60 minutes wait) or weekday lunch. They always have interesting art from local artists hanging in the restaurant, so I’m happy for the opportunity for some exposure. Guess putting my card on their bulletin board back in the spring paid off.

Early in December I hung six pieces from a series I did on fall trees, which will hang in the restaurant until the end of January.

Colors of Change, Winter's Solace & Barren

Signs of Change & Fall Trees

They also invited me to be part of their Holiday Art Sale & Party, which was held at the restaurant on December 16th. This was my first event of this type, and I was curious to see if it would be worth the time. I sent out an email blast to my local mailing list and a few people made it by. It was a great chance to meet other local artists—from whom I learned about ICE Pop Up Shop—and make connections.

I enjoyed talking to friends and potential buyers, and sold two paper cuts—A Day in the Country (my personal favorite of the paper cuts) and The Guardian.

A Day in the Country

The Guardian

The night before the show/sale, a colleague of Mr. Man’s and her husband came by the house to buy a piece for each of their parents—Mockingbird in Dogwood and a tree painting I had just recently finished.

Mockingbird in Dogwood

Not a bad December.  Now if I can just do that every month.

A Weekend in the Nation’s Capital

Mr. Man and I were invited to attend the ICF corporate holiday party Saturday night in D.C. Mr. Man flew up early on Friday morning to spend the day working in the Calverton office, and I flew up in the afternoon, arriving at my hotel around 3:30pm. We stayed at the Hotel Monaco (this is a very nice boutique hotel for those of you who don’t like staying at the major chains or just want something a little different) located in a great area walking distance to the National Mall and all the museums/monuments.

Located directly across the street is the American Museum of Art and National Portrait Gallery, and I decided to spend a couple hours there. Currently there is a special exhibit at the Museum of American Art showing the collection of Steven Spielberg’s and George Lucas’ Norman Rockwell drawings and paintings. Now, I’m not typically a Norman Rockwell fan, finding his content a little too idealistic—possibly due to my limited exposure to his works, which consists mostly of his Saturday Evening Post covers.  Regardless, I’m able to recognize and appreciate what tremendous talent he had. His drawings in particular were wonderful; well rendered with incredible tone and value. Being part of Spielberg’s and Lucas’ private collections, these are rarely seen pieces and I was glad to happen upon the exhibition.

My favorite piece was “The Connoisseur” (1962) which depicts the back of a gray-haired gentleman in gray suit, hands behind his back, clutching white gloves, white hat and black umbrella; he is standing in front of a very colorful and believable Jackson Pollock painting. The juxtaposition is excellent, black, white and gray tones against color, traditional against contemporary, realistic against abstract.

At the Portraiture Gallery, I happened upon a special exhibit of Elvis photos by Alfred Wertheimer taken when Elvis was 21 years old and still virtually unknown. Wertheimer was able to capture moments in time of the everyday Elvis: at a diner where he easily charms his waitress; at home, relaxed and shirtless; on stage with an adoring audience of crying, screaming females; reading fan mail in his hotel; and, my favorite, a clandestine moment in a darkened hallway where Elvis seduces a kiss from an unknown fan. At the time of the photo shoot, Wertheimer had never heard of Elvis. The photos are an astonishing glimpse into Elvis’ life before he becomes famous.

On Saturday, Mr. Man and I walked several blocks to the National Museum of the American Indian. The design of this building is great, all curves and flowing lines, not an angle anywhere. You begin on the fourth floor and work your way back down. On the second floor is a wonderful ethnic food court with fare from five different regions. It's a little overwhelming; trying to make a decision took a bit of time, but we finally chose to split a buffalo burger, lentils with chorizo, cabbage salad, and cucumber and grapefruit salad. Expensive but tasty.


Ginevra de' Benci c. 1474/1478 

After lunch we headed across the National Mall to the National Gallery of Art where spent a good amount of time perusing paintings from early centuries (favorites of Mr. Man)—including Ginevra de' Benci one of only three portraits painted by Leonardo da Vinci and the only one in the United States—as well as some more contemporary works by Matisse, Pollock, and Rothko (pictured below) among others. We really wanted to spend more time, but after a late night the night before, and a holiday party to attend in a few hours, we decided to head back to the hotel for a nap.

The ICF holiday party was held at the National Air and Space Museum. What a great backdrop to a party for 2400 people. The whole museum was open to us, but we didn’t get far off the main area as every ten feet Mr. Man would be stopped by someone from either the (Macro) Calverton office or ICF (ICF bought Macro about 18 months ago). We hardly ate any food, lines were long and food tables sparse, and we made it to the bar only twice, but it didn’t matter. It was obvious that Mr. Man is very well regarded and we spent the entire evening schmoozing. Then, at 11:00pm, they kicked us out into the cold night where we spent some time trying to hail a taxi. Tired and hungry, we ordered room service and then fell asleep.

A quick aside: On the way home Mr. Man was upgraded to first class and he offered the seat to me, he just rolls that way. While the plane was boarding, a soldier in uniform passed by and after people were settled in their seats, a gentleman in the row in front of me called the flight attendant over to request that she offer his seat to the soldier, who was returning to Afghanistan after two weeks leave—he gladly accepted. This act of respect and kindness has, however briefly, restored my faith in humanity.