Brookwrite

The official dilemma of the new millennium

by Doug Brook
Deep South Jewish Voice Colunmist

If you can read this, the world must not have ended. Though before you finish reading, you might wish it had for some of us.

Those of you who can add know that this is not the beginning of the new millennium. Rather, this is the beginning of the mass marketing cycle of the Real Millennium (tm) celebrations, vacation specials, and laundry detergents that we'll hear about all year.

Of course, according to the Jewish calendar, this is not the beginning of a new anything. Not even a new month. Despite that, in the spirit of seizing an opportunity for sensationalism (remember, this is a newspaper), this column brings to you the first bit of Real Millennium hype:

Jewtiles - The official dilemma of the new millennia.

No, this is not a controversial new floor pattern made from Jerusalem Stone, and it's not a new name for the Judaic garment industry. I know, I know. Your first question is "he's doing it again... is 'Home Improvement' on yet?" But your second question is "why did he say 'millennia'?"

See, "dilemma" and "millennium" don't rhyme. Not as catchy. And "dilemmum of the millennium" doesn't make any sense unless you are familiar with this column in its original Latin text (our Latin motto: Semper ubi sub ubi!). Hey, if Dr. Seuss can be put in Latin, so can I. I studied it for three years. Okay, but I did attend the class for three years... (hic, haec, hoc... see?)

Anyway, forget those minor issues of fundraising, education, intermarriage, and trend-happy volunteer leadership. Focus for a minute on the real issue. Jewtiles: Where they came from, and how to pull them back in.

Of course, this will probably once again stir up the recently controversial question, "Who is a Jewtile?"

Now, just like you probably think that the 75% off sign at Frederick's of Hollywood is talking about the prices, you probably think that this column will be about slamming "non-observant" Jews. Rest assured that I only slam unobservant Jews if they're driving in front of me and stop short, just like anyone else.

So before you start writing your letters to the editor by the way, that's "Doug", not "Douglas" or any other four-letter appellations that might occur to you let me assure you that this column is not about identifying them. After all, you know the old saying, "For every two Jewtiles, there's three definitions."

For context, a Jewtile is someone who based on heritage, conversion, or appreciation of Mel Brooks movies is Jewish, but you wouldn't know it by their everyday life. I don't mean because of how they act, because some of them are better at acting in a genuinely Jewish manner than some Jews are.

Jewtiles usually don't go to services, except perhaps to sleep on the High Holidays. Some stay awake, but only because the new pews were selected by two other Jewtiles who didn't consult anyone who's ever actually sat through a service in one. They don't skip work for holidays, except maybe to go to the beach. They might slow down to twenty-five to drop their kids off at religious school, but only if there are speed bumps in the temple parking lot.

In short, they often seem as American as apple pie and casually indistinguishable from the next guy driving a Volvo while on the cell phone.

I'm not saying that to be Jewish you need to wear a beanie, a beard (men only, please), and say "oy" a lot. But that's the point. Jewtiles often think that indulging in more Judaism will make them feel like they look Like That (tm).

Okay. So far it sounds like I'm answering "who is a Jewtile?" But that was just necessary background to the real issues...

Issue One: Where do they come from? You and me. Well, not me... That I know of... They're just other Jews. Are they less Jewishly educated as children? Not necessarily. There might be trends, but show me an unbendable statistic and I'll show you a man Will Rogers didn't like. Are they sometimes the target of active Jews' consternation and variety columns? Yes. Does that make them feel welcome? If it did, they'd still be reading this.

People have different priorities at different points in life. How many of you are still fighting in the playground about who gets to be which character from the A-Team during recess?

People today have the annoying propensity to maximize every minute they have. Why would they look for others? People can't find time for what they must do, let alone time to cover up whatever else they do. What makes you think they'll opt to choose the avenue you offer? If they would just choose it by reflex or feeling of responsibility, they wouldn't be on "the outside" right now, would they?

That leads to Issue Two: How do we pull them back in? Simple. Don't try to pull them. Don't treat them like people who have strayed, set bad priorities, or need your help. They've made different choices. Give them avenues to come back. Appealing ones. Ones where they won't feel singled out as outsiders, either individually or as a group. (It's often just as awkward to be one of many outsiders at an outsider group as it is to be the only non-regular at a regular function.)

Many places think they do this well already. But think about your audience (Jewtiles, remember?). Nobody wants to be told what's right for them to do now anymore than when they were six. It's just harder to take their allowance away now. Though maybe if it was taken away a little more often when they were six, things might be different...

I, for one, have been cyclical, but active more often than not. However, since this is my game, I do not qualify as a Jewtile (yes, mother, put down the meat cleaver...). But I haven't been to services in a couple months. You know why I haven't gone the few times I could have?

Because every other time I missed a few weeks (whether in bed or another time zone) people treat me like I've been remiss and neglectful. "Where have you been?" "Hello, stranger." "Do we know you?" "Married yet?" Seems welcoming and cordial to you? In fact, it feels like being publicly branded with a scarlet aleph. Why go back for that? Would you?

But we better come up with something because if we don't, some other religion will come along, and they'll do it faster and cheaper. Don't stop trying. Just stop trying the wrong things. And good luck with debating whether doing the wrong thing is better than nothing.

Doug Brook is a technical writer in Silicon Valley who hopes you now understand why this was the clear runaway winner in the competition for "Dilemma of the Millenia".