Post- Summer Withdrawal

The journey from my home to the city
Is a long one.
Thinking time.
The chance to ponder my recent past.
Trying to fill the hole that was left
Inside me as my life turned around in one day.
Downing multiple cups of coffee.
Getting another piercing.
Taking a shopping trip.
Consuming popsicles in the freezer of my school, by the hour.
What could possibly fill the gap
Of the loss of the life I was living,
Just a few days ago?
I've been taught, time and time again
To be in the moment
Allow myself to feel these feelings.
And then make plans. Look towards the future.
Keep busy.
Rinsing crates of kale outside the Cultural Center,
Was replaced with the organizing of my classroom for the first day of school.
Instead of slicing hundreds of carrots for retreat guests in the main kitchen,
I am now shuffling file cabinets for relevant school material.
Connecting to others always took me time.
But when I did, I always held on tight.
Which makes letting go difficult beyond anything.
Friendships, experiences, retreats.
Embracing and living up every possible moment.
While on the organic farm.
Because as of next week, the farming fellowship will be history.
Keeping the connections, but letting go.
A deep sadness, a loss I know will linger
As I re-begin my new life in the city as a child educator
And will eventually, at some point, disintegrate back into thin air.
Just a memory.

Changed Cultures, Changed Attitudes

The last time I came back to New York, I was checking out apartments to live in for the fall. It was a stressful visit and, even when I was spending time with family over Shabbat, I was thinking about how much I wanted to be back in Adamah- in the loving community when I could go off and talk to a peer for hours… where I could visit the chicken coop, the barnyard, the Cultural Center, just to see what was going on when work was not officially in session.

The last time I came to New York, the fast-paced lifestyle proved too much for me to handle after living in rural Connecticut for the last six weeks. I broke down in the parking lot of a fast-food take-out after being unable to properly communicate my needs to the employer. After five years of boasting how much I loved New York, how I was proud to have moved here after spending 18 years in California, I recognized that being outside the Big Apple gave me an outside, or perhaps realistic, perspective of the city. I didn’t want to be here- I wanted to be home, in the loving community of the Isabella Freedman.

I returned to New York this afternoon after 10 weeks of work and introspection- a stronger woman. The girl I had had intense challenges with at the beginning of Adamah and I had connected in a unique way- she drove me to the train station at 7:30 in the morning before her work session. How things change in a mere seven weeks.

During my trip back, I had five heavy bags with me- in the past, I felt weak with so much luggage, a reminder of how often I had moved from one place to the other. But this time, the strength I gained from my farming fellowship made the trip manageable, and even somewhat of an adventure. My shoulders ached from my laptop bag and tote bag carrying random miscellaneous items that would come back with me to Queens. But I was upbeat, excited to be returning to a place that was familiar to me, one where I knew that, as an accumulation of the positive and negative situations I’ve had with past roommates and among my cohort at Adamah, I would remain at this apartment, and it would work.

The train conductor barked at a couple of passengers, demanding we move our suitcases to create space for a handicapped fellow; people paced quickly and stressfully through Grand Central station, bumping against me, anxiously trying to make their trains; the taxi cab driver, who, by the way, clearly didn’t know his way around New York City, reminded me accusingly and impatiently to pay him his owed amount plus tip after dropping me off in Queens.

But like water rolling off a duck’s back, these typically frustrating scenarios bounced off me, and the negative psychological responses went somewhere else. I was the luckiest girl in the world- I’d experienced a summer like never before, a program that gave me skills for life, doing things people may never do in their lifetime- I witnessed a schechting, I harvested my own vegetables, I found a soul sister, I spoke deeply and articulately to my peers, something that frequently comes difficult in the fast-paced NYC. I collected eggs from the chicken coop, took out my own food compost, and watched it turn back into soil.

I would never see that taxi driver again- as for the Isabella Freedman, I plan to return for the High Holidays and frequent Shabbatot thereafter. It’s long-lasting, and those in New York will soon learn from the farming and sustainability measures, and attitudes of those in this mishpacha (family), and kehillah (community). I feel blessed to have gone, and to return and educate New York City on what life is really all about.

Wrapping it up- Recognizing Adamah as Real Life

This is it. It will be our last Shabbos at Adamah as a cohort- next week we will be spending Shabbat as part of a retreat at the Isabella Freedman. The weekend will feature people who are participants and supporters of Hazon’s annual bike ride. (Hazon is the umbrella organization of Adamah).

So much happened this summer, and it seems so much was left out from this written record of my experience here at Adamah- the incredible day of Tisha B’Av (a commemorative Jewish fast day), that started with a mini-kumzitz (sing-along) by a group of guys, and ended with a communal Kohenet gathering, singing “Stone by Stone” as we placed rocks in the center of the circle; the random and spontaneous community bonfire hangouts after classes ended; even the arguments at fellowship meetings, that ultimately brought us closer as a community.

I had considered the Isabella Freedman a safe, comfortable space that allowed me to get away from city stresses in the past- but now, it’s truly home. It’s a place where I can go anywhere on campus when I’m feeling down, to pick me up. It’s a place where we can sit in a circle, retreaters and staff, playing instruments and singing songs that I remember from my childhood. It’s a place where I had a conversation that lasted two hours with a young woman whom I now consider to be my soul sister; it’s a place where I can visit the goats at any time because, as a member of Isabella Freedman staff, I have the privilege of releasing the barn gate and going out to their pasture just to say hello. Goat therapy, is what I like to call it.

As I prepare thank-you gifts and postcards to those who have generously donated to Hazon as part of my assigned fundraising efforts, I recall the couple of CSA market runs with apprentices out in West Hartford; our first Shabbat at Adamah, where 10-15 people joined in an inspirational singing gathering following dinner; attending a “Buy Local” market to sell our products;  those few mornings when I co-led children’s Avodat HaLev, as their parents attended programming at the Isabella Freedman, which sticks out in my mind as a highlight of this summer. I’m pretty sure I had more fun than the kids, chanting Modeh Ani as we marched in the gazebo, accompanied by musical instruments.

With an apprentice, organizing fruits and veggies for the
CSA market in West Hartford.

It’s a world so different than that which I’m used to, and somehow, I’m going to need to let it go- at least for the time being. I plan to return for the High Holidays, frequent Shabbatot, for perhaps the goat schechting (slaughtering) in the Fall- an experience that would probably be of the most difficult I would ever experience, but one that, to witness, would be a bracha (blessing)- and a real honor.

In the meantime, this summer was when I truly understood and resonated with the phrase, “You can sleep when you’re dead.” Before this summer, my required eight hours of sleep was essential to my health and well-being. But Adamah is life, and before returning back to what others refer to as the “real world,” I’ve been pulled to these late-hour non-required activities that enabled me to live it up while on this transformational experiential journey.

Thank you to Jackie Cohen, Allison Green, Anne Cohen, and David Frager for their recent donations to Hazon, and for helping me reach (and surpass!) my goal of $1000.00!

Helping Others and Helping Myself- Finding That Balance

There have been few times over the last several weeks when I’ve gotten into the space I fell into this evening- a space I didn’t want to be in just a few days before I head back to New York to prep for my job this coming year.

All the Adamahniks were required to present their “Speak Your Truth,” an assignment that encouraged us to think about our summer here at Adamah and how we feel it has affected us and our plans for the future. 

One young Israeli woman was the last to speak- she got up and recited a poem in Hebrew, translated it into English, and then spoke about her Adamah experience. Her talk was confusing, and it seemed to me that she had decided to relay the negative experiences she’d had this summer, and all her struggles in dealing with a culture and language with which she was unfamiliar. While she was up there talking, I was thinking, “No, don’t do this, just be positive, end off on a good note.” I think that, having had five individuals get up before this girl and open up their hearts, expressing how Adamah has made them a better person, we were all in a sensitive space, needing to hear the same type of response from this girl. But it seemed she had decided to say what was really on her mind. She later told me that what had come across to me as negative was really just part of her poem recitation that ended off on a positive note on something that made her feel alive while at the Isabella Freedman.

But that’s not what’d I’d heard- perhaps I was anticipating something a little too truthful from someone who was not the typical American who may decide to sugar coat a summer experience, but to speak from the heart. Perhaps I’d allowed myself to get too involved in her struggles with feeling excluded from spontaneous group outings; in her trying to communicate messages that were not being heard, or at least understood, by those in our cohort; with the horrific events of Israel, affecting her family and community, that the others seemed to diminish among all that happens on the program. She was the first Adamahnik I had met as we took the train together to Falls Village, and I admit that I had felt a certain connection to this girl I hadn’t felt with others. We both grew up Orthodox and were passionate about remaining connected to our Yiddishkeit (Judaism), despite the number of instances in which this became difficult, with so many Adamahniks who grew up, or became secular. 

But after ending a difficult year, I swore this summer would be different- that I would go to Adamah with open arms and an open mind, distancing myself from negative people who may affect my summer for the worse. This girl and I got along well, and had some good conversations. But how close did I want to get to someone who may end up pulling me down with her, among all of her struggles?

Following her speech, the others went off to dinner, as I remained sitting silent, confused. Did I misunderstood what this girl had said? Was the summer really all that bad, that she spoke about “death everywhere around me,” from the squirrel having been run over on the road, to her family friend who was killed in a car accident just a few weeks before, to her feeling dead inside from being excluded and unheard in her Adamah community?

After speaking with a friend, I recognized that was this girl said was a trigger- of years earlier, when I had felt alone and depressed… excluded from everyone and everything. Trying to reach out to people, but feeling ignored; trying to be understood as a religious teenager in a world, on a high school campus where social pressures were everywhere. Feeling hopeless and helpless, and wondering if there was anyone in the world who cared, or wanted to support me and help me in my challenges. When a friend turns to you in need and you want to help, but feel that it will cause conscious or subconscious triggers that will cause you to be in a space that you’ve tried to shut and lock away, how do you respond?

I’ve tried to distance myself from negativity, anger, intensity, drama, passive aggression- the responses and activities that had caused anguish, and used up so much of my energy. I’m done, I said to myself at the beginning of the summer. Now, positivity, newness, positive energy. If I sense drama, just let it go.

But Israel is so much a part of me that all of this will come back to me, whether through the news, or through a messenger sent as a fellow Adamahmik… I’ll be going back to the stresses of New York in under a week, and all of this may show up once again, whether I’m ready or not. So do I push it away, decide that these qualities are “not for me,” or do I support my friend, my religious country in times of need?

Yes, Adamah has helped me in so many ways- it was good, good, and good. But it wasn’t all good for everyone. Perhaps it’s finding that balance in helping others… but also taking care of myself in times when I really just need positive energy in my life.

A Typical Day at Adamah

At the CC, filling crates with jars of
pickles to sell at markets and on campus.

When people ask me what I’ve been doing this summer as a fellow on a farm, my mind starts swimming, trying to decide what to say first, what to say last, what I can possibly leave out that would still give the person an idea of the type of experience I'm having, yet not allow the conversation to go on for hours. The things we’ve been doing have been endless, taking up all our time while here, causing my parents and other family to question what it is I’m so busy with. So I decided to list out all the things we may be doing on a typical day at the Adamah Farm.

A Typical Day on the Farm

6:00am- Avodat HaLev, led by staff or Adamah-nik,either at the Beit Adamah or at another location (in which case wake-up as at 5:40)

7:00am- Chore, which may consist of tending to the chickens or the goats, milking, taking out compost, or housekeeping at the Beit Adamah

8:00am- Breakfast and get ready for the day

9:00am- Work session

Work option 1: Field

                            - Harvesting tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchinis, green beans, or other fruits and vegetables on any of three different field areas.

                            - Hand weeding or hoeing

                            - Working with irrigation hoses or drip tape, ensuring they are connected and placed correctly on the beds

Work option 2: Maintenance- 

                           - Collecting garbage from around campus

                           - Painting or remodeling the Beit Adamah

                           - Installing an air conditioner in one of the retreat buildings

Work option 3:  Cultural Center

                            - Making or jarring pickles

                            - Placing labels on pickling and jam jars

                            - Washing vegetables

                            - Loading or unloading crates into and from the truck that goes to main campus or for CSA

12:00pm- Lunch

1:30pm- Work session

  Option 1: Field

  Option 2: Maintenance

  Option 3: Cultural Center, lead tour for guests in various areas (compost, chickens, barnyard, hiking)

  Option 4: Work in the main kitchen

4:30pm- Class about farm workers and pesticides

6:00pm- Dinner

7:00pm- Class about active listening

On days we have class, our day ends at 8:30pm, when Adamah-niks return to BA to go running, cook a late dinner, watch "Orange Is The New Black," schmooze with a beer or ice cream, or update their blogs :-)

We rotate on chores and work sessions, and generally when we request a certain type of work that we particularly enjoy, the staff is relatively accommodating. My favored job is working in the field using the stirrup hoe and weed wacker (which I've only had the chance to do once), and leading Avodat HaLev for kids in the morning during various retreats at the Isabella Freedman. The classes range from that on agricultural skills and information, Jewish topics (like one called "Torah of Earth"), and leadership and communication skills.

In case you have been wondering what I've been up to this summer... I hope this gives somewhat of an idea and answers your questions about what the Adamah fellowship is all about.

They Were Schechted... and I Shaken- A Ritual Ceremony

“So, where are you from?” I turned to the fellow asking me the question, an Adamah alumni who had joined us for a few days.

“This isn’t something I want to talk about right now,” I said, as I plucked feathers out of a rooster up on Beebe Hill.

We had just witnessed a fowl schechting, the ritual slaughtering of an animal, a style of killing where the animal is guaranteed no pain during the process, thereby making it Kosher. Three ducks had been purchased over the last few weeks, taken and fenced in a small area; the rooster was also a recent arrival. Folks had been talking about the slaughtering ritual for a couple of weeks before the ceremony. I, apparently was in my own world- or perhaps in denial- and didn’t realize this was the week they were be slaughtered. We would get to witness, and eventually eat the three ducks and the rooster.

The schochet, the man who would be slaughtering the birds- also an Adamah alumni- prepped us for the ceremony, speaking about the schechting process and allowing us to express our thoughts and feelings. For many, it would be our first time watching an animal being slaughtered for food. Some were excited; others, like me, were anxious and nervous. The schochet donned an apron and took hold of the knife- a specific slaughtering knife, with no nicks, a perfect slaughtering device, to ensure the process would be quick and clean-cut.

“Who wants to hold the rooster?” he had asked. A few brave souls stepped up to hold each bird upside- down, while the schochet gently twisted the neck and made the cut straight through. My friend broke down; others stood amazed; I was shaken. During each round, the bird was slaughtered and placed inside a large bin, allowing it to spasm for a few minutes before dying. Following this process, the schochet invited us to partake in stripping the feathers from the birds, and then cutting off the head, the legs, and the wings.

“So where are you from?” the man, who must have been in his 30’s, asked me. I didn’t want to speak; I was processing these moments. My connection to animals is so strong- for chickens less than goats, another type of farm animal here scheduled to be slaughtered in the Fall. Nevertheless, another being- another four beings were gone from this world.

The ducks panicked before the schechting- I’m not sure whether they had sensed what was coming- but I walked over to a duck being held, stroked its fluffy white feathers, hushed it, whispered, “It’s okay,” while inside, I myself wondered it really would be. The ducks I had learned to tend on frequent mornings- the four ducks, who had made me laugh as they played “Following The Leader” as they quacked away in their little fenced space, would no longer be there when I showed up to obtain the eggs from the chickens, to clean their waste. Would this cage be used for yet another set of ducks, or birds, who would live for a short time before being slaughtered and given to us to partake as a meal?

I haven’t yet decided whether I would eat the rooster and the ducks when they are served later this week, or perhaps next week. Since the schechting, it’s been a mellow day. I yearned for silence as we watched the fowls die, as we plucked the feathers from their bodies, as we pulled the organs from their insides and soaked the meat before they were carried away. I tried to block out the chuckles and screeches from fellow Adamahniks taking part in the process. This was a period of mourning, and all I wanted was a moment of silence.

In a debriefing after the ceremony, we spoke about our experiences. “I’m a little shaken,” I said. “This is a beautiful thing to be a part of, but all I can think of is how another animal, another being was taken from this Earth.” I suppose expressing my gratefulness in witnessing a schechting would have been appropriate, as many in the group did. Of course I was glad I had the chance to be a part of this. But as I stood outside the chicken coop just moments before, I wanted to apologize to the chickens for taking away a member of their community- four members of their community. It’s hard to imagine I will ever spend my time with the chickens the same way again, automatically taking their eggs and scooping their excrement. Four beings were taken from the top of Beebe Hill today- it seems my relationship with birds and animals may never be the same.

Thank you to Chani Markel and Allen Purvin for recently contributing to my upcoming Hazon bike ride.

Education on a Wider Level

Here at Adamah, the staff mainly breaks up the summer into three components- working in the field, in the cultural center, or elsewhere on campus; sessions consisting of Jewish studies, agricultural knowledge, and leadership and interpersonal skills; and field trips related to the work that we do. The education I have received here is unique beyond measure, enabling me to academically and personally grow after Adamah ends. Some things I’ve learned should have been obvious long ago, but even the most obvious things are not always realized when in a specific mind set- raised a certain way, and/ or have experiences that place us in this mindset.

I’ve learned that tomatoes should be harvested when they are 50% ripe, the Manny cucumbers when they are at least a thumb’s length and zucchini when they are at least eight inches long.

I learned that if you give a lot, you may receive a little, but even creating this connection is worth the possible lasting friendships beyond the summer.

I learned that compost must be produced through a process that combines plant and animal materials with a Carbon: Nitrogen ratio of (ideally) 30:1.

I learned that active listening entails listening to another person fully, pushing away the temptation to think about what you are going to say during their statement.

I learned that vertical farming is a skyscraper greenhouse, a system of farming that has not yet been invented, but would prevent the need to create more farmland.

I’ve learned that when a group here on a week-long retreat practicing our culture in a manner that I feel goes against what I was brought up to believe, my presence as a spectator, rather than as a participant, is possible and valid.

I learned that the focus of permaculture is not its components, but the relationships created among them by the way in which we place them in the landscape.

I learned that stepping up to take care of (sometimes another person’s) job is something each individual in a cohort understands is essential to creating and building on this community.

I learned that when working in commercial kitchen areas, food safety requires covering the head, wearing close-toed shoes, and sleeves.

I learned that the act of listening does not always require a response or express desire to suggest a solution, but sometimes specifically mandates only an ear to listen and simple acknowledgment.

Indeed, I can concur to the words of a chant at Adamah-“I can feel it in my spirit, in my body, in my soul.”

Thank you Dan Sivils and Pam Dunn for supporting my 40-mile bike ride this week by donating funds and bringing me closer to my goal of raising $1000.00 for Hazon!

Retreats Galore and Making Friends With The Chickens

This last week featured three different programs at the Isabella Freedman- DLTI- the Davvenen, Leadership Training Institute; Kohenet; and Torah Yoga. It was a packed week with activities for the three different groups, in addition to prayers and classes the Adamahniks were invited to when not scheduled for work and programming. DLTI trains participants to lead worship and other communal events in a Jewish context; Kohenet trains women to become Jewish ritual leaders by tapping into earth-based spiritual practices that they believe precedes pre-rabbinic Judaism. Torah Yoga offers an experience of Jewish wisdom through Yengar yoga instruction together with the study of traditional and mystical Jewish texts. I had joined DLTI davening on Tuesday and Thursday, two different versions Tuesday involving mostly singing, music, and explanations, and the other more of a traditional style with some music. The various programs consist of adults of all age ranges of different backgrounds looking for a meaningful way to connect with Judaism. Though there was little time for conversation with these folks, I spoke to a girl in her 20’s part of Kohenet group who expressed her gratitude for being able to get out of the city twice a year to connect to her roots at Kohenet; a man in his 40’s or 50’s and participant of DLTI who wanted to deepen his skills, insight, and passion for Judaism and expand his circle of Jewish travelers.

Often during retreats I place myself mainly at the Isabella Freedman main campus. A lot of spirituality ensued this weekend, and it seemed whenever I had turned to leave, I was drawn back by a group singing to acknowledge the Shloshim (traditional ritual 30 days after the passing of someone) of Reb Zalman Schachter- Shalomi, the founder of the Renewal movement; or mingling with Adamah staff and members of Torah Yoga; or eating post-Shabbat ice cream while dancing to the drums that accompanied a community-wide havdalah.

A friend had asked me to cover her chore of the chickens today so she could go out this evening. I had never been assigned to doing chicken duty so I was pretty excited when she asked me to take her place. She relayed to me the requirements of the evening part of the job- go to the coop at 8pm, make sure all the chickens are inside, and then close the door, securing it with a metal bar. Since we also recently obtained ducks, I also needed to ensure the ducks were locked inside their cage. When I got to the coop just before sunset, most of the chickens had retreated inside, save two still hanging around outside. Now I understand my roommate’s pain when she said she spent 20 minutes chasing the chickens into their coop. The dark brown rooster, which we recently bought, and a beige-colored chicken played hard to get as I ran after them in my white Shabbos shirt (grateful that I changed into pants for this duty), helplessly trying to get them in so I could get back before it gets dark. Maybe asking the girl on chicken duty for a more efficient way to get the chickens in would be helpful to save me time during my assigned week on chickens.

The last couple of weeks, I had been thinking about staying at the Isabella Freedman for the coming year. The option to apply as an educator for Teva, an outdoor educational children’s program for kids in schools throughout the East Coast excited me, to the point where my job in Manhattan seemed dull and perhaps something to reconsider. I could imagine becoming a part of the Isabella Freedman community for good. After much thought and going back and forth between deciding whether I would continue apartment searching in order to be able to go to work on the Upper West Side or apply to Teva, which would save myself the trouble of looking for living arrangements for the Fall, I realized that this potential seasonal position, where I was not guaranteed hire, sufficient pay, or a job after December- at the culmination of Teva- would not be a realistic option for this year. So it’s back to planning for Gan Eden preschool and notifying staff I would be away the last week of Adamah, the week my supervisor wants me back for school prep. Teva will have to wait- but a career as a Jewish outdoor educator doesn’t sound like a bad idea… as doesn’t a visit back to the Jewish retreat center every now and then following this summer at Adamah.