Lessons from a Cold Day in Chicago, Thanks to USY

In 1982, my parents gave me a wonderful birthday present.  They sent me to the United Synagogue Youth (USY) International Convention in Chicago.  Little did I know that this was more than a trip, but the beginning of a deeper engagement with Judaism.

Every December my older brothers, Arnie and Marc, returned from these week long excursions in Los Angeles, Toronto, DC, and Florida tired, yet so happy. They also had great "swag" and new t-shirts from other USY regions - CHUSY, METNY, Far West - and lists of phone numbers and addresses of new friends from all over the country. As soon as they got home, the phone never stopped ringing. After hearing about their experiences for so many years, I couldn’t wait to go myself!

The Chicago convention was held at the McCormick Inn. Over 800 USYers and staff people attended the convention. Eight hundred sounds like a lot, but, at that time, it was the smallest convention in the 45 year history of USY.

As I entered the opening ceremony, I was overwhelmed by what I saw.  In front of my own eyes, there were a sea of Jewish teenagers singing Hebrew songs, dancing, and cheering out of enthusiasm for their regions and their religion.  There was electricity in the room.

At the conclusion of this opening ceremony, we “davened" (prayed)  Minhah, the afternoon service. I had never participated in a minyan that large before. Equally impressive was the fact that the service, and all services at the convention for that matter, was led by someone my age, another teen.

Another highlight of that week took place during sightseeing. At the Museum of Science and Industry, of all places, I had a significant experience, one that helped shape my Jewish identity. While impressed with the architectural beauty of Chicago, I specifically remember being cold, really cold.

Waiting for the buses to pick us up, several hundred of us stood in the entrance lobby singing.  We sang Jewish songs, like Henay Ma Tov, Lo Yisa Goi, Eitz Hayim Hee, David Melech Yisrael, and Oseh Shalom.  It was wonderful.  I had never felt so proud to be a Jew, especially in public.

Yet all of a sudden I felt something on my head.  Placing my hand there, I felt my kippah.  My kippah!?!  I did know what to do.  I had never worn my kippah outside before. In the synagogue was one thing, but in public!?!  I had started wearing my kippah at home, but never, ever outside.  In essence, I exemplified Moses Mendelsohn’s opinion of how a Jew should behave in the modern world.  He said that “he should be a Jew in the home and a man on the street.”

I had forgotten to take off my yarmulke when we left the hotel.  What was I to do?  A part of me wanted to take it off immediately. As I looked up I saw that many of the other teens also wore their kippot. With a little courage and a burgeoning sense of conviction, I decided to leave my kippah on.

From this brief moment in my life I derived two major realizations.  First, there is strength in community. It is easier to practice Judaism with others than alone.  Second, if I felt proud of being Jewish at home, then why not away from home as well.  Isn’t this one of the major points of the Ve’Ahavta prayer? 

I decided that wearing my kippah at all times is a sign of my relationship to God as well as my pride in my tradition, and that I never want to let this feeling to subside. My head has never been uncovered since.

Whenever I hear about the dismal predictions about our Jewish future, all I do is remember this special moment in my life. I can still hear the songs, still feel the passion and ruach and still experience the unfiltered Jewish pride that animated our group that day.

I learned all this on a cold day in Chicago. Thanks to USY!