My mom and I moved to the town of Ashkelon, NJ when I was 13 years old to get a fresh start after my father had suddenly passed away from a heart attack the year earlier. It shattered my already small family. My mother plunged herself further into her work which meant I almost never got to see her. Sher was a corporate lawyer and had already been working insanely late hours. It was not unlikely for her to be travelling on business 5 out of 7 days a week. I didn’t have any siblings and my mom was not around much to entertain me. I did not have anyone to cry to if I was upset. I felt alone.

I learned to be independent from a very young age as a result of my family situation. I was taken care of monetarily, but in reality, I like to joke that I was raised by a credit card and a checkbook. I cooked and cleaned, maintained the house, shopped, made my own appointments, booked my own tutors, conferenced with my teachers myself and held down jobs while I went to school. We were comfortable financially. The concept of family in general was always a little warped for me. I had never really become comfortable relying on anyone else simply because there just wasn’t anyone else. I didn’t have siblings like most of my friends in school did. My mom was not around but still I managed to be a generally happy kid. In reality it would be years before I would be comfortable enough to open myself up to being vulnerable and being able to rely on someone else without the fear of judgement or disappointment.

Ashkelon was a small suburban town; mostly containing Jewish people. It was an interesting layout, actually it was very similar to a grid. In the middle of the grid two streets ran parallel; Morgan place which had the Jewish synagogue, and Beit Shemesh Street which had the town’s 4 kosher restaurants and supermarket. There are several Jewish day schools, a nursery, two high schools and even a Yeshiva all scattered across the town that play host to around 50,000 people.

I met Yossi the day I moved into my new house on Morgan Place. He had his roller skates on and white strings that frayed from the sides of his clothing that swayed back and forth as he glided over to my front yard. He was holding a little girl dressed in a long brown dress; she looked like a sack of potatoes.  As he approached us, Yossi clicked his skates against the pavement and fell backwards. “Woah Tanya” he exclaimed.

He angled his fall onto a patch of grass on the sidewalk and landed on his back clutching his little sister laughing. She did too. I rushed over to make sure he was not hurt. He reached his hand up at me from on the grass and gestured for a handshake. “Hi I’m Yossi Waldman”, he said. “Are you the Spinellis?”

I helped him off the ground and got a good look at him. Yossi was five foot one very slender with light sunken in hazel eyes. He had short brown hair that had been closely trimmed until the sideburns both long and curly. It was slightly off putting. Yossi had a very outgoing demeanor and an innocent smile. He was dorky but genuine and a bit gullible. It made for a truly endearing personality. You could tell that Yossi didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He had leaves coming out of the black beanie he was wearing on top of his head.

“Yes I am- We are” I stuttered. “Well it’s nice to meet you,” he replied.

This is Tanya, she’s five, Tanya say hello”

Tanya grabbed Yossi’s leg and hid her face behind it. Yossi Smiled and said “My parents would love to have you over for a Shabbos meal and welcome you to the community. My dad is the Rabbi of congregation Eretz Yisrael and he always has the new neighbors over to eat. The food is so good- would you like to come Shabbos?”

 

I looked at him with a dumbfounded stare. I understood that we were being invited for dinner to some degree, but in reality I could only make out about half of what Yossi was saying.

 

“Yes” my mom overarchingly said, she had been listening to the whole conversation from afar. “And it’s nice to meet you Yossi, why don’t you give me your parent’s phone number and I can call them and discuss.”

Yossi recited the number, offered us his goodbyes, and skated down the block with Tanya clutched in his arm. “See you on Friday he exclaimed.”

 

As it turned out, my mother was away on business for the duration of the weekend but promised my presence at the Waldman house. I didn’t mind much, I was actually looking forward to seeing Yossi after our strange first encounter. He seemed to always offer a smile and his soft voice was something I was not accustomed to. I found myself with butterflies over the course of that week thinking about him. I knocked on the door at 7PM Friday night and was greeted by a massive presence. A man of about 6 foot two with a deep musky voice filled the entirety of the door frame. His fat stomach inched closer to me as he entered the frame and I had to step back. I couldn’t see his mouth over his thick orange beard that hung below the center of his chest. “Shalom I’m Rabbi Ari,” he said. I could not make out if he was smiling or not. But he seemed to offer an endearing tone.

“Shabbat Shalom and welcome, Have a seat at the table were about to start singing Shalom Alaichem” (Psalm customary to sing on Sabbath Friday night).

 

I walked into the house and sat down at the table.  Immediately the family of four broke out in song. I was not introduced to Yossi’s mom. Yossi did not even acknowledge my presence with much more than a smile. Everyone had been in tune with one another and smiling. I sat there in silence and watched. After several more songs, everyone at the table stood up in silence and Rabbi Ari raised his cup of wine and boasted a final prayer. We washed our hands and bread was served. I was so absolutely intrigued I did not even know where to begin. I was dying to ask a hundred different questions. It was eating away at me. I could not bring myself to speak up, so I continued my uncomfortable silence. I didn’t know how much time had gone by from the time I got to the house to the time food had been served at the table. I kept feeling Yossi’s eyes staring in my direction.

 

Rabbi Ari stood up a second time and said, Rose, we wanted to welcome you to Shabbos at the Waldman house. We know you won’t understand a lot of what happens here tonight, but Jews are taught to teach their children to ask questions so please feel free to do so.

 

He began a sermon saying “As the Rabbi of the Community, it is customary to welcome the outsider and the guest to our community.”

The Rabbi meandered on for ten minutes detailing how to properly treat an outsider. At the time I was not aware that he was directly referring to me although I would soon find out.

He continued  “For it is often that the outsider is shunned or has nowhere else to turn and it is upon us to take that person in”- “Dad?”, Yossi interrupted

“Can Me and Rose go to the basement and play some board games?”

‘Board games’ I thought to myself?

“Yes-okay go” The Rabbi said and sat back down and began slurping his soup.

 

Yossi gripped my hand tight and took me to the basement where we played games for hours. Yossi explained that on Shabbos from Friday afternoon to Saturday night, his family could not use anything that conducted electricity because he was Jewish.

I left the Waldmen house that evening intrigued. In reality it was the start of a very impacting relationship that I began to grow with Yossi.

 

As Yossi and I grew into our later teens we became very close. I grew older and I began to understand some of the complexities and the customs behind Judaism, although there seemed to be so many rules. Yossi had dietary restrictions and there were extended holidays. There were also several factors that made me and Yossi different. I am not affiliated with any religion and in reality I’m not even sure what my stance is on God. Yossi goes to synagogue three times a day and follows these rules to a T. I also began to develop feelings for him. Nothing I would ever act on in fear of being rejected by my best friend, but there was no denying I felt a special way for Yossi.

 

I had gone back to the Waldman’s house quite frequently as a teenager. Every weekend consisted of mostly the same schedule. The family would sing and the Rabbi would offer a sermon directed at me. Yossi and I would eventually leave the table to take a walk or play some games, talk just be alone the two of us. I learned an incredible amount about Judaism, and its principles and found it to be genuinely beautiful to some degree. Its emphasis on the importance of family was something that was always profound to me. I also learned over the years that the religion can be very exclusive. Jews were not allowed to intermarry. Colloquialisms and phrases were thrown around in Hebrew and from the bible that went over my head. The Rabbi would tell me you wouldn’t understand, or it’s not in your culture. He even jokingly referred to me as a “goy” which means nonjew in Yiddish. He said it was not derogatory at all, but I did not appreciate the sentiment much there.

 

There was one weekend in particular where the dynamic began to shift. And the Rabbi took a less endearing and more aggressive approach with me. The Rabbi was giving his weekly sermon at the table and I stopped him to ask a question. He explained although when I offered pushback he replied “Your mind doesn’t think this way it’s not a mind of god.” I became horribly embarrassed. And my face turned red and I moved my eyes down towards my feet. I wasn’t sure what was so insulting about it. In reality I wasn’t necessarily a believer of god, I was mostly just unaware, and yet that comment stung. Maybe it was the years of passive aggressive exclusion finally coming to the forefront of my mind all at once, but it was just so overwhelming. I stood up and said thank you for dinner. I think I’m going to go home now.

I got into my room and wept on my bed. My mom was away on business, and although I had plenty of other friends I could have talked to at school, the Waldman’s felt like family to me. For years they had been everything I knew every weekend, they had taken some interest in me and offered me attention. I felt an extreme lack of closeness with my only other family. As much as they had let me in, I would only be included to a certain degree simply because I was not born Jewish.

Later that night, I heard a knock at the door. “Rose, it’s me, Can I come in?” he said. It was Yossi. I let him in and he sat down next to me in my living room. He put his arm around me and apologized for his father’s comments. He began to inch closer and I could feel his breath on my neck. My heart began to beat faster. He mentioned how we’ve been close forever, “It is not right for him to continue to point out that we are different.” We talked and laughed for hours and he held me in his arms and we fell asleep on my couch.

When I woke up the next morning he was gone. That night left me with an incredibly special feeling. Maybe it was how vulnerable his father made me feel that made it so easy to feel so close to Yossi, but I knew that I had strong feelings for him, the night prior made it undeniable.

For the following week I showed up at his house and knocked at his door but was either ignored or was met with “Yossi isn’t here right now.” This would go on for two weeks. I was unbelievably confused and I had heard nothing from Yossi since the night we had spent together. I decided that after six years of friendship, he owed me much more than absolute silence so I went over to his house. Once again I was met with a “Yossi isn’t here right now” but this time I got mad. I couldn’t hold back what I was feeling anymore, I had been hurt by my closest existing family and I was now experiencing confusing feelings for my best friend who is dodging me.

Rabbi Ari and I began to yell back and forth and that’s when the truth came to the forefront. “I found the two of you together that morning when I came looking for Yossi. I forbid this relationship from progressing any further. My son will not date a nonjew that’s the end of that story-his judgement will not be clouded. The Rabbi closed the door in my face and locked it behind him. I was in absolute tears. I walked back home that evening and thought to myself how unfair the Rabbi was being, simply because I was born a little bit differently. It really did break my heart, I felt like I was being excluded by my family, and what hurt even more, was that Yossi didn’t fight for me or for our friendship at all. I did not see him or hear from him for years after. I no longer received invitations for dinner on Friday night, and just like that, the Waldman family was out of my life.

Eventually I moved from New Jersey to the Bronx, NY where I bought myself a studio apartment and worked in the hospital as a nurse. I loved the job because it allowed me to interact with people and smile just enough to maintain these almost faux relationships that come and go within the span of a few days or weeks. I take it easy on my emotions this way; no one seems to get too attached to anyone as is the natural progression of these relationships. There is also this lovely sense of perfect inclusion. Generally nurses and patients alike will treat and be treated by anyone regardless of age, race, religion, or ethnicity, and I find that that seems to be fostered only in the hospital setting on a daily basis. I didn’t get married nor had I accomplished much in the dating department. In General, I only let people get within surface level. I think about Yossi frequently, and I often wonder if he ever got married- Maybe he has children of his own. Still I never reached out, the family ultimately made it pretty clear that my intentions were not acceptable. My new way of life is safe and I do not experience that kind of hurt or exclusion.

 

For my 32nd birthday at the hospital, a couple of co-workers had planned to take me out to lunch to celebrate. As I am walking out of the building, my name is called on the loudspeaker

informing me that there was a visitor waiting for me in the lobby. When the elevator doors opened I saw a man standing there perfect posture with brown hair curled around the ears. He is wearing a black suit and a black top hat. “Rose!” he exclaimed and walked over to me. It was Yossi. He asked if he could take me out to talk instead and I agreed.

We deliberated back and forth for the entirety of lunch where he eventually explained himself and apologized for the way he handled his father’s commands. “As a kid you’re really taught to believe that a certain way of acting is the correct way and you’re to believe certain things because that is just how life works that’s what is ingrained in your mind. My father had passively excluded anything that didn’t have to do with Judaism while still trying to abide by the religious principles of being hospitable. Ultimately it came at the expense of your feelings and our relationship. I’m sorry” He said. I forgave him and we hugged, but my mind had been made up. We exchanged phone numbers again and promised to keep in touch but I had no interest. My brother had shattered my heart. My father figures were abrasive and nonexistent. My motherly examples didn’t step up and care for me. And so Yossi I’m writing to you asking you not to contact me anymore. I am hoping now that you can understand my side of things and maybe get a glimpse of how immensely this has affected my life.  The heartbreak of not being accepted into whatever family I try to fit into is too much to bear. I wish you well and my hope for you is that you make the members of your eventual family feel special and included, unlike the way you all did for me. I hope you understand that being a good person, an open person, a worldly person and a kind person, goes beyond the religious definition of Piety. Good luck with everything.

Yours truly,

Rose Spinelli

 

Explanation:

Several of Austen’s Works seem to explore several characters’ roles in their varying endeavors to move up within the social ranks of their confined societies. Fanny’s role in Mansfield Park is often the subject of harsh criticism simply because she was not equally born into wealth like the other members of her family and peer group. In fact Austen’s Mansfield Park in some senses is a story of social mobility as Fanny attempts to claim her place in the world. She often needs to sift through the opinions of the elder members of the community around her who entreat that she is of lower class in order to find her own footing. And finally two common themes that Fanny experiences over the course of the novel are her developing relationship with Edmund that sparks out of childish care for one another, as well as the constant condescending way in which Fanny is demeaned and made to feel excluded time and time again throughout the story, simply because there is something technical that makes her past slightly different.

At the Beginning of the novel in the first chapter, Sir Thomas, Mrs. Norris and Lady Bertram are in the midst of discussing if they should take on the responsibility of domesticating Fanny, and if so, who would house her. They acknowledge that the etiquette and higher class of Fanny’s wealthier cousins could possibly influence her for the better, although they do state that they are worried to some degree that this could have the reverse effect as well. In fact, on page 42, Sir Thomas goes on to say “I should wish to see them very good friends, and would, on no account, authorize in my girls the smallest degree of arrogance towards their relation; but still they cannot  be equals. Their rank, fortune, rights and expectations will always be different. It is a point of great delicacy, and you must assist us in our endeavors to choose exactly the right line of conduct.” It is very clear in this scenario that Fanny is not at all perceived as an equal. She will be allowed to be comfortable, but ultimately if by force will be made to feel somewhat second class because it is essential that she not experience the same form of social mobility that Mrs. Norris and Lady Bertram had experienced themselves. They will constantly act to make Fanny feel like an outsider.

Later in the novel, when the characters have gathered together to put on a play in Sir Thomas’ absence, Fanny is urged to take an acting role but has no interest in participation and turns down the incessant offers. Not only is Fanny offered the least valuable part with minimal lines, Mrs. Norris goes on to compare the parts entreating how here forty six parts were so much more crucial in comparison to Fanny’s measly few. Finally, Fanny entreats that she does not want to be part of the play and will not participate to which Mrs. Norris takes exception to this fact. On page 167, Mrs. Norris says “I am not going to urge her- but I shall think her a very obstinate, ungrateful girl, if she does not do what her aunt and cousins wish he- very ungrateful indeed, considering who and what she is.”

Finally, I\in chapter 23, on page 233, Fanny is to be jockeying for the ability to go dine with the Grants to which Lady Bertram must step in and share her two cents. She attempts to keep Fanny from going on the trip. When Fanny is eventually granted permission, she thanks Sir Thomas for the permission saying “I’m so glad” but then wonders why she should feel glad when she was merely just spared a painful moment otherwise. Mrs. Norris comes along to add that Fanny “be very much obliged to Mrs. Grant for thinking of you, and to your aunt for letting you go and you ought to look upon it as something extraordinary: for I hope that you are aware that there is no real occasion for your going into company in this sort of way, or ever dining out at all; and it is what you must not depend upon ever being repeated, Nor must you be Fancying that the invitation is meant as a particular compliment to you.

The comparison between the two characters in Rose and Fanny comes with their inability to find what is proper to satisfy themselves as they are both being treated like outsiders within a larger family or community. Fanny’s extended family and relations consistently hint at or blatantly let her know that her peasantry ridden past is a glass ceiling of sorts in terms of her ability to move up the social ladder of society. For Rose, her inability to comprehend that relationships, both healthy and not, can take place outside of the confines of religion. In a similar way that Fanny is excluded, Rose is as well excluded for not being part of the Jewish faith. Although she does become accepted to a certain extent, in that she is invited over for meals weekly, learns more about Judaism than the average non Jewish person, and finds feelings for the Rabbi’s son, Rose will never truly be allowed further than that. She will never understand the colloquialisms off hand like the rest of the family does. Rose can never be considered a realistic option for Yossi to marry as she is not Jewish herself. And although prior to the implosion of Yossi and Rose’s relationship, the Rabbi earnestly attempts to include her and teach her the ways, He himself acknowledges that her ability for comprehension is limited because she has not been brought up in such a household. Ultimately, unlike Fanny who finds her happiness and does successfully marry Edmund achieving the same kind of mobility (if not greater) than Lady Bertram and Mrs. Norris, Rose is too affected by prior circumstances to forgive and forget or forgive and move on.