That "mixed" relationship thing
May. 26th, 2009 08:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
livSo I've been going out with the Beau for about a year and a half now, and we're doing well. I've been more or less refusing questions about whether it's a problem that he's not Jewish, because, well, we're just us, we're not a paradigm of a mixed relationship. I have a slight suspicion sometimes that people are hoping for drama when they pose questions like that. In any case I've decided to introspect about it now.
[jack, do stop and think for a little and decide if you want to read this; it's mostly positive, but even so.]
I must admit I had some doubts about getting into a relationship with someone who isn't Jewish. Mostly because I find romantic relationships difficult anyway, and I was daunted by adding to the inherent difficulty of being emotionally entangled with a whole separate person by choosing someone from such a different background. My last relationship with a non-Jewish guy kind of imploded; he very nobly went around telling everybody that the issues were all on his side and I had no problems with it, but that doesn't mean that I feel good about hurting someone I cared about. But I don't generalize from that that no mixed relationships can ever work, it was that particular person and those particular circumstances which led to a bad outcome. When I was considering getting together with the Beau, what it came down to was that I was pretty sure I wanted to be with him as an individual, not as a hypothetical example of the sort of person I would ideally want to date.
On a personal level, things work incredibly well; Judaism doesn't get in the way any more than any hobby or social activity that happens not to be shared.jack is veggie, which pretty much removes any food problems. And he's supportive and interested in my Jewish stuff, to a point where the fact that he thinks that the underlying principles are complete nonsense is no more than one of those topics for relaxed couply teasing. The long distance thing may help with this; we're not trying to run a joint household where my religious practices might get in the way. And the Beau doesn't resent the time I spend doing community stuff, or having to fit round my commitments.
Considering mixed relationships in the abstract I worried that a partner might fail to understand something that's a very important part of who I am. But actually being able to understand me depends more on good communication than shared background, and good communication we have lots of! There is no problem of an atheist not being able to understand being religiously committed.
The only thing that seems a little weird sometimes is when I notice the way my Beau has complete confidence there's a place for him in the world. He doesn't have an inkling of what it's like to know that there are people out there who want to kill you, just for who your ancestors are, without any regard for anything you might say or do. I find it hard to think that's a bad thing, though; I want a world where everybody has that sort of basic expectation of the right to continue existing without violent threat. In our wanderings around Europe touristing, we've come across quite a few reminders of the Holocaust or other historical attacks on Jews; I get the impression the Beau finds this sort of thing shocking. And, well, it is shocking, it's just that I've known about the Holocaust for as long as I've been aware enough to know anything at all about how the world works. I don't think this difference in experience is a problem for the relationship, not at all; after all, my identity is very much not about being a victim of antisemitism. I would say the Holocaust has a relatively minor influence on my life (all my family close enough to know about were in England at the time, for example). It's just that it's part of my understanding of what it is to be human, and I've grown up with a community including many Survivors and people who were directly affected.
So in fact, the only real issues have been about how we are perceived by others, and those are mild. My parents are not delighted about the relationship, but they have too much wisdom to go around openly disapproving of their kids' choice of partners, much less putting pressure on us to date according to their wishes. (I thinkjack's family are a bit bemused at his choosing a religious Jewish girlfriend, but the weirdness is the religious part (they're all atheists!) not the Jewish part.) And most of my friends are generally sensible and realist about these things; they may have qualms, or be unwilling to date non-Jews themselves, but understand the situation I'm in and aren't judgemental. Sometimes it's just slightly awkward because when I introduce my sweetie, people naturally assume that he's Jewish.
Stockholm is in fact the ideal place for a mixed couple. The demographics here are such that 90% of married Jews have non-Jewish partners. Finding a Jewish spouse means, unless you're really lucky and happen to fall in love with someone who chooses to convert, you pretty much have to stick to marrying someone from the very small group of kids you grew up with, and that's often not an attractive or even an expected choice in our society. I know a few people who have decided they won't get involved with non-Jews; there a couple of guys in their 50s and 60s who are still half-heartedly hoping that one day their Jewish Princess will come. Actually this harsh reality is part of why we spend so much of our time hanging out with my religiously committed Jewish friends; most of the non-Jews I know around my age are married with small kids, so less interested in or available for the kind of social activities I participate in. Some of the 30-ish Jews are still waiting for a Jewish partner, so they haven't embarked on serious relationships or reproduction yet. But basically, nobody here bats an eyelid at discovering the Beau isn't Jewish.
Outside Stockholm, well, it's mostly just eyelids. It seems that several of my friends assume that the relationship is automatically a problem, and several of his assume that he's thinking of becoming Jewish. I don't think anyone assumes we could fix the supposed problem via me giving up being Jewish, I think mainly because you can't really give up being Jewish, even if I became totally atheist and never set foot in a synagogue again, I'd still be Jewish, and it would still be, in many people's eyes, a mixed relationship. I think much of the potential for internal problems would be the same if I were going out with someone just likejack, equally atheist, with equally little religious background, who just happened to be ancestrally Jewish. It might even be worse because there would be a danger that anything I did in terms of Jewish practice and involvement could easily be perceived as an implicit criticism of my hypothetical secular Jewish partner for not being religious enough. But the world would be congratulating me on my good luck in finding a Jewish partner, instead of being concerned for me.
The other thing is that I'm at a point in my life where I'm considering taking the Jewish leadership thing further, maybe even professionally. Running services and education was something I did in Dundee because I had to, but I've grown into the role and I now find that it brings me real joy and satisfaction. Lots of my friends here think I should train as a rabbi, and they really mean it, it's more than just a compliment because they enjoyed my latest sermon. It's something I'm putting serious consideration into, but having a non-Jewish partner, however supportive, is going to be a major, major obstacle. I don't think any denomination will train me as a rabbi unless I lie about, or end, the relationship. And even for more informal leadership positions, outside Scandinavia it's going to count against me.
When I start thinking about the future, whether or not I do decide to go down the Jewish leadership route, I must admit I get scared. We've got to the point of having vague, highly hypothetical conversations about whether this could be a long term thing. And I really don't see why not, except that at some point I'd have to make the leap and start saying: this is the person I've chosen, deal with that or not. Perhaps that's the same thing as deciding to get married (or make an equivalent long-term commitment) in the first place, you have to decide that you're going to push this relationship through no matter what opposition or challenges you face. But having the mixed thing hanging over us makes it harder to do the more natural thing of just spending more time together, perhaps making plans to overcome geography or even move in together, and just see how it goes. (This would be a million times more scary if long term also meant kids, but if I'd wanted to have children I'd have married one of my Jewish exes, not because they're Jewish but because they were willing to start a family with me and I love them, and if that was what I wanted I would have acted.)
At the same time, I'm acutely aware that all of this is really extremely mild. I'm not in any danger of getting beaten up, or cut off from my family and community because my partner isn't Jewish. From a practical, legal standpoint, getting married would be perfectly easy, and I don't even think I know anyone who would refuse to attend a wedding. In a lot of ways, the friction resulting from being in a mixed relationship is completely eclipsed by the social credit I gain from being in an opposite sex relationship. This Shapely Prose piece about being a queer woman with a male partner resonated really strongly with me, in ways that I'm not quite ready to articulate, even when I'm in this confessional frame of mind.
[
jack, do stop and think for a little and decide if you want to read this; it's mostly positive, but even so.]I must admit I had some doubts about getting into a relationship with someone who isn't Jewish. Mostly because I find romantic relationships difficult anyway, and I was daunted by adding to the inherent difficulty of being emotionally entangled with a whole separate person by choosing someone from such a different background. My last relationship with a non-Jewish guy kind of imploded; he very nobly went around telling everybody that the issues were all on his side and I had no problems with it, but that doesn't mean that I feel good about hurting someone I cared about. But I don't generalize from that that no mixed relationships can ever work, it was that particular person and those particular circumstances which led to a bad outcome. When I was considering getting together with the Beau, what it came down to was that I was pretty sure I wanted to be with him as an individual, not as a hypothetical example of the sort of person I would ideally want to date.
On a personal level, things work incredibly well; Judaism doesn't get in the way any more than any hobby or social activity that happens not to be shared.
jack is veggie, which pretty much removes any food problems. And he's supportive and interested in my Jewish stuff, to a point where the fact that he thinks that the underlying principles are complete nonsense is no more than one of those topics for relaxed couply teasing. The long distance thing may help with this; we're not trying to run a joint household where my religious practices might get in the way. And the Beau doesn't resent the time I spend doing community stuff, or having to fit round my commitments. Considering mixed relationships in the abstract I worried that a partner might fail to understand something that's a very important part of who I am. But actually being able to understand me depends more on good communication than shared background, and good communication we have lots of! There is no problem of an atheist not being able to understand being religiously committed.
The only thing that seems a little weird sometimes is when I notice the way my Beau has complete confidence there's a place for him in the world. He doesn't have an inkling of what it's like to know that there are people out there who want to kill you, just for who your ancestors are, without any regard for anything you might say or do. I find it hard to think that's a bad thing, though; I want a world where everybody has that sort of basic expectation of the right to continue existing without violent threat. In our wanderings around Europe touristing, we've come across quite a few reminders of the Holocaust or other historical attacks on Jews; I get the impression the Beau finds this sort of thing shocking. And, well, it is shocking, it's just that I've known about the Holocaust for as long as I've been aware enough to know anything at all about how the world works. I don't think this difference in experience is a problem for the relationship, not at all; after all, my identity is very much not about being a victim of antisemitism. I would say the Holocaust has a relatively minor influence on my life (all my family close enough to know about were in England at the time, for example). It's just that it's part of my understanding of what it is to be human, and I've grown up with a community including many Survivors and people who were directly affected.
So in fact, the only real issues have been about how we are perceived by others, and those are mild. My parents are not delighted about the relationship, but they have too much wisdom to go around openly disapproving of their kids' choice of partners, much less putting pressure on us to date according to their wishes. (I think
jack's family are a bit bemused at his choosing a religious Jewish girlfriend, but the weirdness is the religious part (they're all atheists!) not the Jewish part.) And most of my friends are generally sensible and realist about these things; they may have qualms, or be unwilling to date non-Jews themselves, but understand the situation I'm in and aren't judgemental. Sometimes it's just slightly awkward because when I introduce my sweetie, people naturally assume that he's Jewish. Stockholm is in fact the ideal place for a mixed couple. The demographics here are such that 90% of married Jews have non-Jewish partners. Finding a Jewish spouse means, unless you're really lucky and happen to fall in love with someone who chooses to convert, you pretty much have to stick to marrying someone from the very small group of kids you grew up with, and that's often not an attractive or even an expected choice in our society. I know a few people who have decided they won't get involved with non-Jews; there a couple of guys in their 50s and 60s who are still half-heartedly hoping that one day their Jewish Princess will come. Actually this harsh reality is part of why we spend so much of our time hanging out with my religiously committed Jewish friends; most of the non-Jews I know around my age are married with small kids, so less interested in or available for the kind of social activities I participate in. Some of the 30-ish Jews are still waiting for a Jewish partner, so they haven't embarked on serious relationships or reproduction yet. But basically, nobody here bats an eyelid at discovering the Beau isn't Jewish.
Outside Stockholm, well, it's mostly just eyelids. It seems that several of my friends assume that the relationship is automatically a problem, and several of his assume that he's thinking of becoming Jewish. I don't think anyone assumes we could fix the supposed problem via me giving up being Jewish, I think mainly because you can't really give up being Jewish, even if I became totally atheist and never set foot in a synagogue again, I'd still be Jewish, and it would still be, in many people's eyes, a mixed relationship. I think much of the potential for internal problems would be the same if I were going out with someone just like
jack, equally atheist, with equally little religious background, who just happened to be ancestrally Jewish. It might even be worse because there would be a danger that anything I did in terms of Jewish practice and involvement could easily be perceived as an implicit criticism of my hypothetical secular Jewish partner for not being religious enough. But the world would be congratulating me on my good luck in finding a Jewish partner, instead of being concerned for me. The other thing is that I'm at a point in my life where I'm considering taking the Jewish leadership thing further, maybe even professionally. Running services and education was something I did in Dundee because I had to, but I've grown into the role and I now find that it brings me real joy and satisfaction. Lots of my friends here think I should train as a rabbi, and they really mean it, it's more than just a compliment because they enjoyed my latest sermon. It's something I'm putting serious consideration into, but having a non-Jewish partner, however supportive, is going to be a major, major obstacle. I don't think any denomination will train me as a rabbi unless I lie about, or end, the relationship. And even for more informal leadership positions, outside Scandinavia it's going to count against me.
When I start thinking about the future, whether or not I do decide to go down the Jewish leadership route, I must admit I get scared. We've got to the point of having vague, highly hypothetical conversations about whether this could be a long term thing. And I really don't see why not, except that at some point I'd have to make the leap and start saying: this is the person I've chosen, deal with that or not. Perhaps that's the same thing as deciding to get married (or make an equivalent long-term commitment) in the first place, you have to decide that you're going to push this relationship through no matter what opposition or challenges you face. But having the mixed thing hanging over us makes it harder to do the more natural thing of just spending more time together, perhaps making plans to overcome geography or even move in together, and just see how it goes. (This would be a million times more scary if long term also meant kids, but if I'd wanted to have children I'd have married one of my Jewish exes, not because they're Jewish but because they were willing to start a family with me and I love them, and if that was what I wanted I would have acted.)
At the same time, I'm acutely aware that all of this is really extremely mild. I'm not in any danger of getting beaten up, or cut off from my family and community because my partner isn't Jewish. From a practical, legal standpoint, getting married would be perfectly easy, and I don't even think I know anyone who would refuse to attend a wedding. In a lot of ways, the friction resulting from being in a mixed relationship is completely eclipsed by the social credit I gain from being in an opposite sex relationship. This Shapely Prose piece about being a queer woman with a male partner resonated really strongly with me, in ways that I'm not quite ready to articulate, even when I'm in this confessional frame of mind.
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Date: 2009-05-27 06:24 am (UTC)