Why I Finally Added a Flag Overlay to my Facebook Profile Picture

In the days after gay marriage was legalized in all 50 states, many people changed their Facebook profile pictures to celebrate and show their support. Even Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg got in on it:

In the aftermath of the Paris terror attacks, the new profile meme was a French flag overlay.
Again, Mark was in on it:

I didn't participate in these profile pic trends, but I'm not criticizing anyone who did. I did post quite a bit about both the Supreme Court decision and the attacks in Paris, so both events were on my mind and in my newsfeed.

Today, though, I did add a flag to my profile picture. This one:

To add this filter to your profile pic, go here: http://rainbowfilter.io/israel

The rainbow flag and the French flag overlays were provided by Facebook, and all users had to do was click a button and, wham!, profile picture changed. It was an official response from Facebook to world events and the currents flowing on social media. They saw a need -- users who wanted to express sympathy and solidarity -- and filled it.

But where were the other flags?

Beirut? Kenya? Israel?

Facebook did receive some public criticism for their lack of response to other terrorist events around the world. Twice as many people were killed by ISIS in the Russian plane bombing than in Paris -- was changing your flag to a Russian flag an option?

95 people were killed and 250 injured in Ankara, Turkey in a terrorist bombing in October. I didn't notice a Turkish flag meme.

In some ways  understand the reasoning. The Middle East is always embroiled in one violent affair or another, and we have come to expect bombings in places like Iraq, Beirut, Kenya, Nigeria, Syria and Turkey. They are foreign, distant places with cultures very different from the Average White Band America where me and my friends grew up, and in which we are raising our children.

But Paris. Paris is the city of American aspiration and admiration. Cultured and multi-cultural, fashionable, well-fed, and the epitome of good taste. It is the inspiration of art and artists, poets and novelists, film directors and songwriters. It's philosophers gave us the ideas upon which America was founded.

When we say, "We are Paris," we all understand what that means. We speak a common western, cultural language. It is more difficult for us to say


We are Kenya
We are Beirut
We are Ankara
We are Russia
We are Malli

So we don't.

And even if our prayers and thoughts go to those victims for a moment or two as a story flicks by on our newsfeed, we do not see a flood of those flags overlaying our friends' faces.

We are Israel.

For me that is the easiest of all. I read Israel, study Israel, sing Israel, and in my own limited way, pray for Israel.

I pray for no young man to have to return from Israel like this:

I pray for no one -- especially so many who are so young -- to ever sing a national anthem in grief:

WATCH: Ezra’s final journey. 18-year-old American volunteer, Ezra Schwartz was murdered in a terrorist attack in Gush Etzion last week. As Ezra was sent to his final resting place in the United States, his friends accompanied him to the airport. In a powerful gesture, they sang Israel’s national anthem, “Hatikva” as Ezra left Israel for the last time. May Ezra’s memory forever be a blessing.via: Ynetnews

I pray for peace.

You'd Run, Too

You'd run, too...


Take a close look at the picture of the medical center "before". That little white car on the right? That's the same year, make and model as my car.
 
Someone drove that car to a medical appointment that day.

Someone like me who had a normal life of car payments, doctor's visits, family dinners, fights about homework, errands to run, etc.

You'd run, too...

Where would you go?
Who would take you in?

You'd run, too...

Why I Decorate My Cube (and You Should, Too!)

I've found that I'm one of the few people in my new group at work to put up any personal mementos in my cube.

No, not like that!

But I have added some personal touches to my work space, and I've chosen each one of them carefully and after quite a bit of deliberation.Why?

I'm not the most introverted introvert!

As it turns out, being surrounded by software engineers and IT guys makes me one of the most outgoing people in my area. Me! I have to start conversations, make eye contact first, and say hello if I pass someone in the walkway.

I do try to pick up on people's interests, but so far my methods are limited to eavesdropping on their conversations (which are few and far between) or looking around at their work spaces.

[There is one way in which they are social that I'm completely left out of. They smoke (vape, whatever) and go outside together a few times a day. Since I'm not a smoker, and I don't want to pick it up to gain a social advantage, it would help immensely if my coworkers would decorate their cubicles... even a little.]

My Cubicle

Top Row (L to R) Two postcards from Oregon, a bookmark for the upcoming Wyeth exhibit at the Denver Art Museum, My Red Sox "B", a calendar.
Bottom Row (L to R) Grateful Dead dancing bear button, A skull sticker made by a colleague in Oregon, Ellie's 8th grade picture, Ben's bar mitzvah picture, a postcard from the Impressionist exhibit I attended. recently.

 

Official-looking work papers, Pats 2015 schedule, Gronk!, concert tickets, and a key chain made from one of Ben's paintings. (These are further into my cubicle... if you come in, you see them. If you stand at the door, probably not.

Look at all the things you can learn about me!

• I have kids, a girl and a boy
• My daughter wore an AC/DC shirt in her school picture and I still hung it up
• I like art, and am probably planning on going to the Wyeth show
• I like baseball and football, and my favorite teams appear to be the Red Sox and Patriots.
• I'm organized, keep my space neat, I print out calendars and schedules

And there are also things that are designed to elicit questions

• Skull -- what!?
• Kid looks like he's having a bar mitzvah -- Jewish?
• Who's Keller Williams?

It works!

 

Our leadership team visited a few weeks ago. They're from Seattle, Corvallis, Salt Lake City, Palo Alto, and San Diego. They stopped by every person's cubicle to introduce themselves and have a little chat. When one of the execs stopped by mine, he took a look into my cube and said, "Baseball fan?" and we were off and running on a conversation about the upcoming World Series and wasn't it funny how the Back to the Future movie included a reference to my cursed team winning the whole thing...?

Yes, he mixed up the Chicago Cubs and Boston Red Sox, and No, I didn't mention his mistake. (Did I mention this was the executive team?)

Hanging up that "B" was an instant conversation starter, and I didn't have the awkward, stilted conversations that my coworkers had as the execs made their rounds. One mentioned how much he liked the lighthouse on one of the postcards, and he also wants to get back to the Oregon coast. Another had seen a similar skull in our Corvallis office and asked about it. [One of my colleagues in Oregon is a graphic artists and the stickers are his side gig.]

Just the other day, one of the women from a couple of aisles down stopped to say hi to my absent cubicle-mate, peeked into my cube and said, "I like your bear." A conversation about live music ensued. It may go nowhere, but the next time I buy tickets for a Dead-similar band, I'll mention it to her.

Plans for Changing it Up

 

Life in a cubicle-farm can isolating, awkward, and soul-sapping. I hope my sparse, thoughtful decorating style catches on with my neighbors. Just in case it doesn't, I'm planning on rotating out some of the items as time goes on, like a carefully curated art exhibition. Leaving the same things up for months destroys the purpose of people noticing them. They'll blend into the background, or people will forget if they've asked about an item already. A few switches and I can avoid that further awkwardness.

I'll be a social maven before you know it!

All I Have Left is a Song of Peace

In Oklahoma City, people were working at their desks
In London, people were riding the Underground
In Mumbai, people were strolling through a market
In Paris, journalists were working and cartoonists were drawing
In Beirut, Marines were in their barracks
In New York, so many people were enjoying a beautiful Tuesday morning
In Saudi Arabia, people were going to pray
In Aurora, people were going to watch a movie
In Japan, people were commuting to work
In Turkey, people were rallying for freedom
In Washington, DC, people were protecting our country
In Nigeria, people were trying to make it another day
In Tunisia, people were vacationing on the beach
In Iraq, people were trying to rebuild
In too many places, students were trying to get an education

In Paris tonight, hundreds of people went out La Bataclan to see a concert.

I do most of the activities above, but going to see live music is where I find
my peace
my joy
my connection to the universal language of music and dance.

I have to believe the terrorists knew exactly at whom they were aiming their weapons. Concerts are gatherings of happiness and good vibes and being together with strangers and friends who love what you love.

Tonight, 100 or more of those revelers, those music fans, were killed in a holy place by the unholiest of people.

As we enter Shabbat, all I have to offer is a song of peace.
May there one day be a true Shabbat of Shalom.

The Bat Mitzvah I Never Had

I'm writing this in a coffee shop as my daughter meets for the first time with our rabbi to study Torah for her bat mitzvah. She's well prepared. We've reviewed all of the parshas up to her portion, and she read her parsha (Behar) on her own over this past week.

I feel like a pro, having already shepherded one child through this process, but what I don't feel is a sense of nostalgia for my own bat mitzvah ceremony. Why?

I didn't have one.
Those of you who've only known me as an adult may be thinking....

But anyone who knew me as a tween is thinking...

My "blunder years" were awful, and every shy, reticent, introverted, misanthropic, angry bit of me was multiplied 1,000-fold. I have look back on those years and wondered if I could have been "forced" to do it and thus risen to the occasion? Maybe, but I certainly don't blame anyone for not waging that fight with me. I would not be moved.




I've "done" all the rituals, though.

The first time I chanted Torah was August 28, 2004, parsha Ki Teitzei

From the archives of Go West. Young Jew (8/31/04)

I'm still riding high from my Torah reading this past shabbat. I admit to being very nervous about the whole thing. I was fine through most of the morning service, until the Torah service started. As soon as the Torah was taken out of the ark, I could feel my heart racing and my hands start to sweat. I had my paper with the portion on it tucked into my siddur. I took it out to glance at it, and I swear it was like I'd never seen it before, even though I'd listened to the tape probably 50 times and was hearing the trope in my dreams.

Here I was, reading from a Torah that had been saved from Prague before WWII, a Torah that is identical in every way to every other Torah scroll around the world, THE Torah. It was such a different experience than reading from a Chumash or Tikkun. I hit every note, got every word right, needed no prompting, and when I was done looked up into the faces of a very proud father, husband and mom. The gabbai and the rabbi were both pretty amazed, and then the rabbi told the congregation that it was my first time layning, and everyone gasped. He also told them that I'd never had a bat mitzvah and then did the misheberach for a bat mitzvah girl and people sang Simon Tov u'Mazal Tov.

Was that my bat mitzvah ceremony? I suppose we could count it as such. My parents were there, and I know they were very, very happy to see their one and only child on the bimah, chanting Torah. And I studied the heck out of that portion. I could chant it right now (which would be awkward in this Starbucks with the couple sitting next to me doing their New Testament bible study.)

Several people who've heard that I did not "have" a bat mitzvah at  age 12/13 have suggested that I have one now. Why not age 43, 30 years late? I've always said no. Why?

There have been so many Bat Mitzvah moments...

• My first aliyah was on the Congregation Har Shalom bimah, on May 24, 2003, with a 7-day-old Ellie in my arms receiving her Hebrew name.

• I've always been a practitioner of Judaism, though I got real about being a student (and teacher) of it when I moved to North Dakota in 1994 and had to represent "my people" to my classmates, many of whom had never met a Jew before. You really learn when you teach. 

• I've read every parsha and turned the Torah over and over again, looking for its secrets and finding my own voice to add to the chorus of Israel, those who struggle with this wonderful, terrible, people-defining and people-dividing book.

• For 7 years I was a professional Jewish educator, teaching Hebrew High and then serving as the director of our synagogue's religious school. I lived my Judaism out loud, and I carry the lessons of those years -- some of them very heavy -- with me each day. [Any scars from that adventure are healed each time I run into an old student (as I did tonight) and remember what I taught them and what they taught me.]

• I have taken on and shed mitzvot over the years wavering from

blatant disregard (I Don't Want Your God!)
to
do-it-yourself observant-ish (God Said So!)
to
spiritual atheism (Judaism Without God)

Too many developmental milestones have come and gone for me to "become" a daughter of the commandments.

Besides, it's someone else's turn now.