It's no secret that women are held up to different standards than men in all professions, and more so in professions that require a public persona. Nor is it a secret that the Jewish community--even the liberal Jewish community--has not yet adjusted to seeing women standing in the spot on the bima where many of us grew up seeing a pudgy, middle-aged man. Some years ago, I was anonymously standing on line at kiddush at a synagogue where the assistant rabbi was a woman. I overheard the two women in front of me talking about her: "When she first started working here, I kept wanting to say 'fix your hair,' 'that skirt doesn't look good on you,'" one of them told the other, "but then I realized--she's not my daughter; she's the rabbi." Some of my female friends in the pulpit have been told to wear makeup, to get their nails done, to wear navy only, and not to wear pants suits. Sometimes it's hard to remember what decade we're living in. . . I was surprised to see Meredith Kesner Lewis, whose posts are generally smart and sensitive to feminist issues, weigh in apparently on the side of those who want women rabbis to spend more time on their appearance than on their d'rashot: For whatever reason rabbis, particular females, aren’t known for being overly attractive. A kippah and tallis generally don’t not flatter a woman’s body, fashionably speaking (putting religious issues aside). Sometimes, we go out of our way to show off those rabbis who do defy the norms. A friend of mine, who is a rabbinical student, is a real beauty. Long blond hair, blue eyes, slim body. And it’s no wonder her rabbinical school frequently uses her picture in marketing materials, as well as has her give tours to prospective students. Of course, she is also incredibly personable, intelligent, driven and committed to Judaism, but her looks surely don’t hurt. To some degree, isn’t it important that our leaders, our public representatives, carry themselves not only with religious and moral ethics, but also with a concern for appearance? They are the outer face of Judaism to the rest of world.
Meredith, wisely, does not link to the (now removed) post for the same reasons that Hannah and I avoided drawing attention to it. Yes, of course, people make judgments about everyone, especially job candidates and especially rabbis, based on looks. And I do think that women have to dress the part to compete--I cringe when I walk into a rabbinic meeting at which all of the men are wearing suits, but some of the women are dressed in flowy skirts and casual shirts. But male rabbis get by just fine with their paunches and shlumpy clothing--only the heaviest and shlumpiest suffer for their looks. Women, on the other hand, are critiqued for every hair out of place and for every spare pound. And before Meredith's post, I had never thought to worry about whether my tallit was flattering. . . never mind what one does about tefillin hair. Can't we at least publicly pretend that we've learned something from the last forty-odd years of feminism? |