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I SINGLE LIFE

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SIMON GRIVER

Special to The Jewish News

S orne of Phyllis Rosenbaum's
friends tell her that she has
become more Israeli than
American. After 16 years in
the country she supposes
that that is inevitable, though she in-
sists that part of her will always be
American.
Daughter of Joyce Rosenbaum of
Southfield and the late Frank Rosen-
baum, Phyllis was borain Detroit and
attended Mumford High School before
studying at Ann Arbor where she
received her BA degree and then MA
degree in linguistics.
A divorcee, Phyllis disagrees that
Israeli society with its emphasis on
family life and parenthood is not a
good place for singles. "Over the years
Israelis have been becoming more
aware of singles and their problems,"
she says, "and Jerusalem itself has
grown culturally and socially?'
Phyllis has a large circle of friends
numbering both Israelis and English-
speaking immigrants. Her social life
includes visiting friends' homes and
going out to the movies, theater, con-
certs, cafes and restaurants. "My
social life here;' she observes, "is very
much the same as it would have been
in Detroit, though perhaps I've a lit-
tle less money to spend:'
But like Israel, which is now en-
joying greater affluence, Phyllis has
known tougher economic times. She
teaches Scientific English at Hadas-
sah Community College and Hadas-
sah's Bio-Technological Institution.
She lives in a low rent Jewish Agen-
cy apartment in the Ramot suburb of
Jerusalem, which enables her to
spend more money on other things
but she cannot afford to own a car.
Her largest expense is air tickets back
to Detroit.
"Being so far away from family
and friends is the hardest thing about
living in Israel;' she says. "Of course
I have my friends here, but when the
going gets tough the support is not
the same as from your own family
framework. It's especially important
when you're single:'
Phyllis first became interested in
Israel as a teenager when she went to
a seminar on why every Jew should
consider aliyah. Her family had al-
ways been very Jewish oriented and
sympathetic towards Israel. Her older
brother, now Rabbi Stanley Rosen-
baum, who lives in the Detroit area,

.2gD312/14aaciLl

,

1988

Detroit single olim have found
different avenues for melding
into Israeli society

Phyllis Rosenbaum

Adeena Ascher

had spent a year in Israel and en-
couraged her enthusiasm for the
Jewish state.
In 1966, Phyllis visited Israel for
the summer and fell in love with the
country. "It was a young, idealistic
and innocent country full of hope,"
she recalls," and so was I:'
In 1972, Phyllis returned to Israel
and has liv6d there since. She was
determined from the start to learn
fluent Hebrew and this has helped
her to overcome barriers and assimi-
late into Israeli society.
"I had lived and worked outside
of America in other countries,"
Phyllis says, "but coming to Israel
was like coming home. It's a feeling
that cannot be explained. I don't
understand why other American Jews
don't feel the same way."
Phyllis claims that she is flexible
and prepared to make an effort to fit
into Israeli society. Often, she asserts,
American Jews are insensitive to the
fact that Israel is a foreign society
where things are done differently.
She notes that Israelis have be-
come more westernized over the years

and this has made life more comfort-
able for her. She is particularly anx-
ious about the present trouble in the
West Bank and Gaza. "Israel has liv-
ed through a lot of problems;' she
says. "I hope things will work out
with less suffering rather than more."
Relatives concerned by media cov-
erage about Israel find it difficult to
believe that the current situation in
no way directly threatens her. Yet
despite the hardships of wars, ter-
rorist attacks, economic crises and
now the present unrest, Phyllis re-
mains happy about life in Israel. "I'm
not a masochist," she says, "if I was
unhappy here I would return to
America?'
Moshe Silberschein cuts an un-
conventional figure for a rabbi. He is
not the stereotype, staid family man
and pillar of the community usually
associated with rabbis, but rather an
eligible single who wears jeans, t-
shirts and sneakers, has a lively
social life and enjoys such pastimes
as hiking and camping.
Born in Detroit, he grew up in
Oak Park and is the son of Molly Katz

of Southfield and the late Abraham
Silberschein. His sister and brother-
in-law, Barbara and Dr. Sandford Her-
man, also live in the Detroit area. But
Moshe immigrated to Israel in 1982.
He is a graduate of the Jewish The-
ological Seminary and served as a
rabbi in Minneapolis, Minn., before
settling in Israel.
"I was 12 years old when I first
visited Israel;' recalls Moshe "and I
fell in love with the country on that
vacation. Since then I always wanted
to live in Israel. I see it as being able
to fully express my Jewishness."
However, though he himself de-
cided to move to Israel, Moshe insists
that he does not want to denigrate
Diaspora Jewish life. "America of-
fers Jews unprecedented freedom,"
he says, "and it is in Israel's inter-
ests that the U.S. Jewish community
survives and prospers?'
Surviving and prospering in Is-
rael is not so easy for a rabbi. One of
the most difficult aspects of mak-
ingaliyah for Moshe was the fact that
the country has no shortage of rabbis.
Indeed the very concept of a rabbi is
different in Israel where the tradi-
tional shtetl view of the "rebbe" as
a sage and teacher prevails rather
than the modern American notion of
a rabbi who heads a congregation.
Thus, Moshe has changed his pas-
toral duties to become a teacher, a
role he finds fulfilling if not as
remunerative. He lectures in Hebrew
language and linguistics and Judaica
at the Hebrew University and a num-
ber of other colleges including He-
brew Union College.
Moreover, Conservative rabbis are
not recognized in Israel as full-fledged
rabbis. Unlike their Orthodox coun-
terparts, they cannot perform wed-
ding or funeral rites. "I guess Israel
could do with some more religious
pluralism, says Moshe with diplo-
matic understatement.
He is also greatly worried by the
present Palestinian unrest which
reminds him of the race riots in
Detroit during the 1960s. "It's easy
to talk about compromise," he argues,
"but achieving it will be very dif-
ficult:'
Though a Conservative rabbi,
Moshe frankly admits that he is
greatly influlenced by the Orthodox
Jewish philosophy that an unmarried
person, is an incomplete person, but
he hastens to add that circumstances
sometimes do not allow everybody to
get married. "Despite remaining sin-

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