It’s always meant with the best intentions, I am almost positive of it. Perhaps the person in question feels they need to enlighten, or educate. Maybe they want to spare from embarrassment or shame.
You all know what I’m talking about: a frum person talking to a ger, or convert. Yes, we all know the Torah says repeatedly to love the ger, be kind because once we all were strangers in Egypt. I’m not here to get into all of that. What I do want to address is the form(s) this love can take. I can address this, as I am a giyores. And apparently, not the only one who has been in my shoes, so to speak.
For example, I know you (and in all instances I am using the general, not specific use of the word) want to protect me and others like me from getting insulted. But when I ask you about the shalach manos I gave you (and the entire community of people who I would have testified before bais din loved me without condition) please don’t tell me about how you and half of the people I gave to decided to throw them out since you weren’t 100% sure of my level of kashrus. Then, I beg you: don’t add insult to injury by suggesting that in future I only give shalach manos (traditional Purim food gifts) that are items that are store bought and sealed. Just don’t.
I’m not the only one who has experienced kashrus related ‘education’. My friend Rivka told me of her personal experience:
“The number of people who directly insulted or belittled me for being a giyores (female convert) is small. But there were a lot of people who made **assumptions** about what it meant that I was a giyores. They automatically, immediately assumed it meant that I knew nothing about Yiddishkeit. That I couldn’t read Hebrew. That I didn’t know the difference between Shabbos and Shivah Asar b’Tammuz (a fast day). That they had to explain to me how to check whether packaged food was kosher. I can be dan l’kaf zchus (give the benefit of the doubt) and presume that they wanted to help (or who knows, maybe they weren’t confident in their own knowledge), but … the people who did this treated me as if I were a child. I was in my late 20s.” [sic] Well, we all know what they say about assumptions.
Another dear friend of mine, Rebecca Franks, shared this painful incident that she experienced.
“I tried to go to an Orthodox shul in New England, and a casual game of Jewish geography, and my lack of Jewish schooling, led to finding out I was a convert. I was then grilled about what Beit Din I converted through. A Shabbat dinner invitation was later rescinded because they were “afraid I’d do something to violate Shabbat at their home.” [sic]
I have a friend who says he was never (directly or otherwise) given insult for being a convert. He is blessed, let me tell you. I know of converts who have been mistreated terribly (aka the mikveh scandal of DC). A convert knows that telling people this tidbit of themselves leads to questions. The gentle inquiries are “What made you decide to convert?’ and “How does bacon taste? What about seafood? Do you miss cheeseburgers?” The unkind ones are “Tell me your life story?” or “Do you ever miss (or what do you miss the most about) being a goy (non-Jewish)?”
The answers are as follows: I don’t know you well enough to tell you that, I used to miss scrapple far more than bacon (now I don’t miss either at all). Seafood tastes fishy, and cheeseburgers (in my opinion) are forever overrated. See the first answer re: my life story, I miss secular art and music on rare occasions, and it didn’t matter to me because I never saw myself as a goy because I had believed all my life I was Jewish. (my father was, my mother wasn’t).
Geirim are interesting, I get it. We’ve lived lives that may seem more fiction than reality at times. We’ve experienced things in ways Orthodox Jews never will – for good and for bad. But geirim are Jews, too. We are not here to satisfy your curiosity, or to give you something to gossip about. We are not here for you to say “I’m so glad I never had to live that way.” Yes, someone said that to me. To which I said “I’m glad I did. It made me into who I am today.”
Some geirim are persons of color. They have a beauty and looks that are obviously unique and different from the typical Ashkenazi or Sefardi/Israeli looks. But again, they are not a part of the Jewish Nation to be looked at differently, or to be romanticized/fetishized over, or as symbols of open-mindedness or being ‘woke’ in associating with them.
Every ger and giyores is to be treated the same as every Jew from birth. That means going to the butcher, the baker, the tailor, the silverstore, the coffeeshop, the shul or anywhere else and not being bothered with stares/questions. It means not flinching, not starting to say something and holding back. You don’t do it to anyone else, don’t do it to a convert.
An incident I will never forget, and that reminded me that I was a convert in the worst way went like this. There was a guy, and he seemed interested in me. He was good looking, sweet, funny. An offer to arrange a match was made, but that Shabbos I went to visit his mother (as I did as matter of habit) she had this to say to me:
“Look, I have no disrespect for you. If anything, you choosing to convert is admirable. But I will never agree to allow you to date my son. That will never happen, and honestly, I don’t believe I am alone in that sentiment. Perhaps look for boys who are geirim, like yourself. I only tell you this because I don’t want you to be hurt. Better I do it once and then you know.”
Well, just put me in my place and keep me there with your bullet-proof stocking clad foot. I will never forget the pain and humiliation that tore through me at the time. I was good enough to be Jewish, but not for a Jewish-born husband? You invite me into your home, your life, but this is what you really think of me? I did what I always did, and still do. I smiled at the insult, cried about it later, and proved it wrong. I married a Jew from birth, and I invited her to my wedding.
Rebecca sums things up in a way that I agree with whole-heartedly and that deeply resonates with me, and with almost every ger or giyores I know:
“I will say though, most of my Jewish friends are Orthodox and they have only ever made me feel welcome and never bring up me being a convert or caring one way or another about how or where I converted. So, even though those particular people made me feel less than, my friends have always made me feel part of their family.” [sic]