In many religions, music is an essential part of reaching spirituality. During the High Holidays, around ten melodies are recited (Rosenfelder, 2012). While prayers such as the Kol Nidrei have made it out of the synagogue tradition, they still keep a strong Jewish identity (Rosenfelder, 2012). This is something that I have noticed throughout my Jewish education. Though many people may daven daily, outside of services, the significance of the prayer and the meaning behind them remain important which is why it is so important to teach Hebrew school students the stories behind the prayers the recite (http://www.reclaimingjudaism.org/taxonomy/term/1008). Music can be seen in all aspects of Jewish life from services to home life and celebrations (Rosenfelder, 2012). Rabbi Mendy talked to me about the significance of music in special events, such as Jewish weddings and Bar/Bat Mitzvahs and how they bring cheer and joy to everyone in attendance (Personal Interview, 26 February 2019).

When I interviewed Rabbi Mendy and his wife, I asked about the importance of knowing and understanding Hebrew in prayer (Personal Interview, 26 February 2019). Mendy said that praying isn’t about the language, it’s about praying from the heart and learning and interpreting what the prayers mean, whether in English or Hebrew. Mendy explains, “Hebrew is the added beauty,” (Personal Interview, 26 February 2019).  Translations never perfectly capture what is being portrayed in the original language. The best way to understand what is an author means is in the original language. However, prayers don’t need to be understood word for word. The most important thing is to understand the main idea that is being conveyed, and I think translation in language still allows the reader of a prayer to comprehend the message of the prayer.

Some Jewish people feel that Hebrew is essential to reciting a prayer, while others feel it is more important to understand the meaning behind it.  According to Illman, “I’m convinced that reading English that you understand is no more helpful than singing Hebrew that you feel,” (2018). Illman speaks to the true power of music in the Jewish religion. Although, I agree that singing is an important part of engaging with the community, I think it is extremely important to know what you are saying in order to keep yourself from getting lost in the tune.  In the UK, as well as the US from my experience, Hebrew is not the everyday language, but adds to the sacred context of the various prayers (Illman, 2018). As Rabbi Mendy explains, “Hebrew is the added beauty,” (Personal Interview, 2019). Some argue that expanded use of Hebrew can distance congregants (Illman, 2018). This is definitely something I can relate to. Especially when I was attending services when I was younger, it was harder for me to appreciate the significance and beauty of the Hebrew itself. I found myself having a hard time focusing. Even when attending services during my fieldwork, I found myself struggling to concentrate when the entire service was in Hebrew, and would have preferred English to be incorporated. The constant recitation of Hebrew has even caused loss of interest in the religion to some of the people in my life, discouraging them from continuing their Jewish practice. As I’ve grown up and learned Hebrew, I’ve tried my best to follow along in Hebrew while browsing the English translations to give me an idea of the meaning behind the prayers I am chanting that I am unfamiliar with.

I mentioned to Mendy and Mussy that when studying for my Bat Mitzvah and attending Hebrew as a kid, I wasn’t taught what I was reading and mostly recited prayers to memorization. Mussy, the Rabbi’s wife, explained that “it’s hard, we only have so much time to learn, and it is very limited. Kids come right from school, into more school (Hebrew school). In order to learn more, she sends her kids to a Jewish school, where they are learning to read and understand the language and follow the Jewish traditions. She mentioned the davening  done in Hebrew School,” a tradition I recognized from the beginning of each class of the Chabad Hebrew School I taught at. They try to make Hebrew school fun with games and prizes to keep the kids passionate about learning Hebrew and Jewish history. The prayer Modeh Ani, is taught is Hebrew along with a English translation which is sung to the same tune. I remember Sara, the head of the Hebrew school, coming into the class multiple times to explain what the prayers meant and how it really resonated with me because I had never learned this before. Now when reciting these prayers, I am able to know the significance and pass on my knowledge to my mom, who never attended Hebrew school.

Another topic of interest that came up in my research is learning about the different tunes of prayers that are used in the Jewish community. At the age of 12 and 13, I attended a lot of bar and bat mitzvahs at many different synagogues in the area, and noticed that each synagogue seemed to have a different tune. When attending the Chabad services here on campus, I was surprised that they used different tunes than the Chabad at home. I asked Rabbi Mendy about this and where the different tunes come from. He explained that the different tunes aren’t from the different aspects of Judaism (reform, conservative or orthodox) like I had thought, but instead just come from personal preference. A congregation member may have suggested a particular tune s/he knew and that could be a tune that stuck with that temple (Personal Interview, 26 February 2019).

The Torah itself emphasizes the importance of music but fails to include information about musical notation and melodies leaving it up to the congregation to decide (Rosenfelder, 2012). When it comes to Chabad, there is a certain preset of prayers used in services but each one tends to use a different variation and tune (Personal Interview, 26 February 2019).

During the first service I attended, when the Rabbi had to leave for a second to deal with his daughters, the president of the club took over. I noticed that he asked which tune we sung a certain prayer in. Just like me, I am sure he has also heard the same prayers in certain tunes which can create initial confusion, but once he got started and got approval of the speed, he was a natural leader and continued the service flawlessly. I was amazed by how quickly he picked up. After attending just a few services, I found myself quickly picking up the different tunes. I noticed the tunes are related to the different tropes I had memorized when studying my Bat Mitzvah Torah portion. The same types of melodies seem to be repeated in different versions of different prayers.

When the Rabbi returned, he started the next prayer, during one part he huddled with the boys dancing in a circle, showing that he was part of the community and not above it. Minushka, the older daughter, was really into it, watching the boys as she seemed to mouth along to the words and danced in her seat. At the age of four, Minushka was already so invested in the community that had been part of her everyday life. I realized that constant exposure to a new language and culture, at home and school allowed her to pick up on a new language and prayers. This was the music she knew and heard all the time. Similar to the way we unconsciously learn lyrics to hit songs through exposure from the radio, Minushka learned words to prayers in a language that wasn’t even her first through repetitive exposure.

After hurrying back to my dorm to write fieldnotes at the end of the service, I was left feeling unsure about my observation and participation in  this community. I had felt so uncomfortable that I wasn’t sure I would be returning. After reflecting, I realized that new places are always scary and uncomfortable and I should give it another chance.  

When I attended my second service, I already felt more comfortable and like part of the community. Shortly after I arrived, there were four more girls joining me, two of whom had also studied abroad with me. Quickly, the girls’ side of the divider filled up, outweighing the number of boys, which I knew was extremely rare. As the service begun, seats were shifted when even more girls arrived. One girl, dressed more formally, seemed to take the lead. She seemed fluent in Hebrew and knew when to sit and stand unlike the rest of us. This time when it was time to huddle up, I had a group of girls to circle and dance with. All but one of us participated. I had overheard that this girl was visiting her brother and did not attend Northeastern so it made sense that she wasn’t as involved in the community as the rest of us. This seemed to be subcommunity that existed within the larger Jewish community. At the dinners as well, students from other schools came to participate in the Jewish community that they felt was missing in their own school.

This experience within the female sub-community helped me strengthen my identity in the Jewish musical community and feel more engaged in the services. The more obvious sub-communities of the different genders within the service stand out, as demonstrated by a physical barrier. In addition to being physically separated, males and females they also have different roles within the Jewish religion, especially in the Orthodox sector. For example, only males are allowed to read from the Torah. This goes back to traditions that were followed over 3500 years ago (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gender_separation_in_Judaism). Even though this is the case, men and women still join together after services and carry on life as usual, sitting together for festive meals and celebrations.

After my second service, I was able to attend the Shabbat dinner. Again, I was introduced to new people. I realized that the Chabad was a great way to make friends, and I wish I had started attending earlier. Within these dinners I again noticed separate communities form, people conversed within friend groups, but when it was time to sing and pray we all joined together in unison, connecting through religion and blessings on the food.

This time when I went to complete my fieldnotes, I felt encouraged and was happy I continued this work. I tried to complete my fieldnotes without bias. I wrote about my connection with the community. Despite the lack of oral communication and conversation, the sub-community of Jewish women within the service, sitting side by side helped me feel more integrated into the larger Jewish community.

In addition, I attended a Purim service. This was the one service where I was able to record audio and take pictures because it did not fall on Shabbat. During Purim, groggers are used to create sound when the evil Haymen’s name is said. Each time his name is said during the service, we all spin the groggers and say “boo!” creating a sense of community through celebrating how the Jewish people were able to overcome devastating times. During this service, however, I was also very distracted. My responsibilities as an ethnographer, to capture sound and image,s and my role as an insider participating in the service were very hard to balance, especially because I only had this one shot to be able to get the best pictures and audio I could. I didn’t want to interrupt the service and distract the participating members, but I wanted to be able to capture my research in an effective way. This was one of the times where I struggled most with my role as an ethnographer and is definitely something I want to approve upon in further fieldwork.

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