“It’s The Rabbis’ Daughter!” a not-so-hushed voice remarks as I walk down the temple
hallway, eyes swiveling in my direction. Cute scene from Fiddler on the Roof? No, it’s my life. I am the daughter of not one Rabbi, but two. My social life as a child consisted of being dragged from wedding to funeral, from bris to bar mitzvah. There is no doubt about it, I had a lot to complain about, from the requirement of zealous adherence to rules set down by my parents, to my first date, at a Mariner’s baseball game, when the entire men’s group from the congregation just happened to be seated behind my date and me, chuckling, whispering, and pointing through all nine innings. And yet, there is another side to my life experience. I was introduced early to the joys and sufferings of strangers, to the need for compassion and sensitivity in the face of their pains and their joys, and to the art of listening and hearing. I recall listening to snippets of fascinating conversations, and sometimes even being asked to join in. By the age of ten, I had perfected the ability to “schmooze,” which, in the Jewish community, is considered a high art form. Being the rabbis’ daughter set me apart in so many good ways that I am compelled to explain why I absolutely love it.

At age 14 I joined the temple youth group, and my early social education began to yield results as I started emerging as a leader. I became an officer and president of that group, working not only to ensure that we had a fabulous time together -- which we did -- but also to encourage critical thinking about what it means to be a teenager today, while promoting Jewish values. The youth group became a forum for working for social change, for social justice, and for the common good.

This year I am the Northwest President of the National Federation of Temple Youth (NFTY), the umbrella organization over all the Reform Jewish youth groups of the Northwest. Representing thousands of teenagers from Washington, Oregon, Montana, Idaho, Alaska, and British Columbia, we convene four times a year at different locations in the Northwest. I am in charge of running the region, and working with my board to plan these conventions.

As president, I have taken a lead role in shaping our agenda to embody the essential Jewish value of tikkun olam, the repair of the world. We’ve encouraged large groups of teens to participate in the Seattle Aids Walk, educated participants about child labor around the world, and learned about just war theory. We’ve worked to raise funds and awareness for Nothing But Nets, an organization that sends canopy nets to areas of Africa that are plagued by malaria. Every year, we also devote an entire weekend to social action, sending participants into the community to do “hands on” work in order to do our part in repairing the world.

This year, it is my goal to make our convention weekends, during which much regional planning takes place, educational and fun. While everyone attends these events expecting to see friends, most are also there to learn and to be challenged, to discuss ideas, and to argue about the impact of current events on our lives. I want these weekends to embody a beautiful mix of normal and nerdy. Our activities range from looking at the situation in the Middle East from multiple perspectives to midnight laser light shows in downtown Seattle. Using Robert’s Rules of Order, we passionately debate topics ranging from the federal budget to whether our regional mascot should be a “raindrop” or a “sasquatch”.

At each event, as dozens of Northwest NFTYites pile off yellow school buses, dressed in our “schlumpy” sweatshirts, and step into the iconic Seattle rain, embracing and shouting exuberantly at each other, I feel so proud of the strong community I have helped to create. I love hopping from group to group, introducing people, facilitating the crossing of social boundaries so evident in my public high school, and listening to the buzz of happy teenagers. I love bringing my guitar and playing as all of our voices come together. I love the way in which the region fully embraces tikkun olam. I love the challenge of being President, and the chance to have my voice heard all over the country. It is daunting to think of the work that still lies ahead, but I know that nothing will have prepared me more for the task, than being the “Rabbis’ Daughter.”

This past Yom Kippur, I was given the tremendous honor of holding the Torah in front of the congregation. Looking out upon the rows of hundreds of people swaying to the powerful music, I envisioned the parents of these men and women, and their grandparents, and ancestors in Europe before them, all swaying in a similar fashion, to the same ancient melody. I may not want to be a rabbi myself, but I now understand the utmost importance of keeping the tradition strong. The Jewish values of social responsibility, challenging ideas, the pursuit of knowledge, and living life to the fullest, are gifts that have been passed down through the generations to me. I now carry the responsibility to share these values, not only with other Jews, but with the rest of the world.

My new life begins next year when I enter college. On campus, I will no longer be
known as “the Rabbis’ Daughter,” or will I? For along with my books, guitar and laptop, I will also bring with me the ability to cross social lines, the imperative of embracing social
responsibility, and the desire to build thoughtful community. It is an identity I embrace for myself, with joy.

This essay was written by Rena Singer, Roosevelt Class of 2009, Brandeis University Class of 2013.