I hate roller coasters. The only time I rode one was on a dare on the boardwalk in Santa Cruz, California. I had just gotten engaged and Craig, my husband-to-be, jokingly said he would not marry me unless I rode the Big Dipper. As expected, I loathed every second of that 60-second ride. So, if I want a rush of excitement in my life, I sign up for a Torah reading. Reading Torah is my roller coaster ride.

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My earliest memory of hearing the Torah was on Rosh Hashanah morning. I sat with my grandfather as a small dark man, a Yemenite Jew, read the story of the binding of Isaac. I was mesmerized by the sound of the man’s strange, nasal chanting. I sat there wondering, how does he do that and when do I get my turn?

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Within my Conservative synagogue in New York City, boys preparing for their Bar Mitzvah were required to attend services on Saturday morning. Girls were required to go on Friday night. Girls would chant their Haftarah on Friday night and boys would be called to the Torah on Saturday mornings. It was never questioned or debated if girls should have a larger role participating in Jewish communal life. That’s how it was.

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We were taught that after our coming-of-age ceremony, boys were still required to go to shul but girls didn’t have to. Our rabbis, all Orthodox, said that girls were more spiritual by nature, thus relieving them of the obligation to attend services. They said if men were not required to go to shul, they would never go.

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It’s true. I did feel a natural spirituality. Each Friday night, I followed along with all of the melodies of Kabbalat Shabbat, the service where Jews welcome the Sabbath as a bride. On the evening of my Bat Mitzvah, I chanted my Haftarah with much confidence, never realizing that if my family continued to belong to this synagogue, it would be the last time I would be allowed on the bimah for ritual reasons. I would not be asked to join a minyan if they needed a tenth, because I was not a man. I would not be asked to read from the Torah or participate in services ever again. It made me feel as though I didn’t count, and on a certain level, as a Jewish woman, I didn’t.

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I had great respect for my Orthodox rabbis and teachers who I believe gave me a more solid supplementary Jewish education than my own children are receiving in our egalitarian synagogue. And I do have great respect for Modern Orthodox Judaism, which, I have been told, is considered the Conservative Judaism of my childhood. I admire their commitment to observing Shabbat, the hospitality they extend to guests on Saturday afternoons for lunch, and their dedication to Jewish day school education.

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When I became a mother, I also grew to appreciate why it is that women are not obligated to participate in time-bound mitzvot which could interfere with their tasks of mothering. I respect those who believe there are separate roles in Judaism for men and women. But what I cannot accept is where “not obligated” evolved into the extreme of “not allowed.” I also took some cues from Blu Greenberg, who wrote in her book On Women and Spirituality, that Judaism for women should not be a spectator sport.

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I finally learned how to read Torah at age 37. The first time I read, my heart beat so fast I could barely catch my breath, but my chazzan said never mind and encouraged me to take further readings. I would wear my husband’s old tallit, until he bestowed me with my own on my 38th birthday. It is sheer and silvery and I feel embraced by Craig’s love, God’s love, and my Jewish community each time I wear it.

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For me, I have come to realize that learning Torah is not an exercise in perfection, rather an act of participation and performing the mitzvah of studying Torah as a full-fledged member of the Jewish community. Just like that person getting strapped into the seat of a looping roller coaster, know that there is no turning back, but know you are in for a thrill.

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Thanks for Reading JWorld Café, the Poetica Magazine Blog

Stacy Gittleman, Guest Blogger

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Stacy Gittleman is a freelance writer and has been a Jewish educator in Rochester New York for 10 years. She lives in Rochester with her husband and their three children. She blogs at http://transplantednorth.wordpress.com/  - Linda Pressman, Blog Editor