When I turned 13, the dreaded and anxiety provoking time had arrive. It was time to start studying for my Bat Mitzvah. I had multiple sponsors who essentially forced me to learn how to read Hebrew, although that makes it sound rather dramatic. But it was true, growing up in a reform Jewish household, not having my Bat Mitzvah was not an option. From my parents, to my temple, the rabbis and my Hebrew tutor Aza, learning Hebrew and everything I had to grasp for my Bat Mitzvah was definitely a challenging new form of literacy I had to take on. Being the youngest of three, I’d seen both my older siblings go through the same process. Prior to it, you have to go through months of studying and weekly tutoring session on how to read Hebrew. Than once it came time, I would have to stand in front of my family, friends and congregation at my temple and lead them in prayers, read a portion from the Torah and the Haftorah in Hebrew, and than give a speech on my own interpretation of my Torah portion. Not only did I have to learn the Hebrew words, but I had to learn the cantillation that came with it. When reading the Torah, there are accents or notes known as trope symbols, that help one read/chant the Torah correctly. Everything felt like so much to take on, and I was left feeling so uneasy and fearful about the whole thing, especially when I started my tutoring sessions.
My Hebrew tutor was this tiny little Israeli woman named Aza, and it was always so hard to understand her due to her heavy Israeli accent. Aza always spoke softly, until she started reciting Hebrew and it was like a whole nother voice was projected into the room. Aza lived in this tiny house, with the most minimal furniture I’d ever seen. Her house always seemed to smell like artificial fragrances. Both my siblings had also had her as their tutor as well, so I knew what I was in for. She would always had a little bowl of candy sitting on a table in the center of her living room. We would sit on her low couch that makes you sink down even more when you sit, and practice Hebrew and trope for 2 hours, until my mom came and picked me up. My parents were always on me about studying and practicing outside of my tutoring sessions, so I’d have to listen to this CD of Aza singing and chanting my Torah Portion and the tropes. I can distinctly remember the sound of her voice ringing through the old speakers in my living room, and how I’d have to repeatedly play the tracks over and over again as I was read along to the Hebrew.
It wasn’t that I regret having my Bat Mitzvah or learning this new form of literacy and communication, I understood that it was a tradition in my community that continued through generations. I understood that I was lucky to be able to stand on the bima and have my Bat Mitzvah, as only decades ago, Jewish women didn’t have that right. I’m glad that I went through that experience because the knowledge I gained from it, in the end, outweighed all the stress it caused.