COMMUNITY VIEWS
It's Time For
Letting-Go, Again
CAROLINE
COOPER
Special to
The Jewish News
than I was 18 years
ago.
I remember the
many Tamarack sum-
mers. Hundreds of
ast
kids boarded buse.
Shabbat
When they departed,
was really
many moms cried;
weird. My
many moms cheered. I
husband made kid-
stood amidst the
dish; I benched licht cheering group. I fig-
and we both sang "Shabbat Shalom."
ured "What the heck.'/
This is pretty much the same as
They'll only be gone
every other Shabbat, only this time
for three weeks (actual-
"Shabbat Shalom" sounded like a
ly, 19 days). Let's all
dirge. We tried to lighten it up with a
have a good time." So
little hand clapping. When that didn't
we did!
work, we tried a little "do-si-do-ing."
During the "Great
It was pathetic. You see ... our kids
Bar-Mitzvah Years," I
have left us.
lamented not having
My friends say we shouldn't take it
daughters. What a
so personally. They haven't really left
blessing it would be, I
us; however, to pursue their dreams,
thought, to have a
they've gone as far away from us as
daughter return home
they would possibly get without
from a party, sit on the
crossing an ocean. Yadda; yadda;
edge of my bed and
yadda. I feel pretty lonely anyway.
breathlessly tell me
How many times must a mother
who wore what, who
"let go?" I figure that if I begin with
danced with whom,
my oldest son starting kindergarten
and what was served.
and continue through as my youngest
Unwisely, I told two
went to college in California this fall,
people of this desire.
I've been "letting go" for 18 years.
One was my best
Counting camps, universities,
friend whose daughter was 16 at the
Outward Bound trips, Israel and
time. She said, "What makes you
Europe, I figure I've "let go" about
think girls tell their mothers any-
87 times. I'm not any better at it now
thing, anyway?" When I told my son,
he looked at me as if I were totally
Caroline Cooper is a wife and mother
daft and went off to his 57th bar
residing in Southfield.
mitzvah party of the year. Returning
REPORTER'S
NOTEBOOK
Who We
Really Are
Time and again, Jewish
TV characters fulfill
stereotypes, not reality.
LYNNE
MEREDITH
COHN
StaffWriter
Oh boy. Another
bad portrayal of
Judaism on TV
The culprit: "Ally
McBeal" on Monday night, Nov. 4.
Yes, she's adorable and witty and
brainy and forthright. She's a twen-
tysomething lawyer, young career
woman, a person we can admire and
appreciate. But this week she went too
far.
In her short skirt and tight T-shirt,
McBeal (played by Calista Flockhart)
took the case of a Jewish woman
(guest star Brenda Vaccaro) with a
stereotypical New York accent (despite
the fact that they live in Boston) who
can't get a get from her husband, who's
in a coma. She has a legal divorce
according to American law, but not a
Jewish divorce.
The rabbi won't grant a get, even
under extenuating circumstances, and
she's in love with another man who she
wants to marry tomorrow — in the
synagogue, by the rabbi who won't
grant the get. The woman retains
McBeal's legal services. Good start?
Of course not. We're talking about
home that night, he came into my
bedroom and said, "Mom, remember
this afternoon, when you said you
wanted me to confide in you and tell
you who danced and what they ate
and wore?"
"Yes," I said eagerly, anticipating
an hour-long dramedy that has earned
high ratings thus. far in its first season.
McBeal makes an appointment to
meet with the rabbi. She arrives at the
Conservative "temple" and the rabbi
— a short, nebbishy, dark-haired
young guy — is waiting for her in the
sanctuary. He meets with a lawyer in .
the sanctuary, wearing a kippah and
tallit.
Of course, he won't grant a get, so
McBeal tells him off. She says it's a
"silly" law and can't they just bend the
rules this once? He's offended, she's
badmouthing the Torah, yelling at the
rabbi, and he calls the Anti-
Defamation League, screaming about
her anti-Semitism.
So she apologizes, the woman's hus-
band dies, enabling her to marry guy
No. 2, and the rabbi — a
Conservative rabbi who keeps kosher
and wears a kippah all the time —
asks McBeal for a date. Methodist
McBeal.
the talk of a life-
time.
"Well," he said
with a smile on his
13 year-old face, as
he scooted my legs
over and sat on the
edge of my bed, "it
ain't gonna hap-
pen." With that, he
kissed my aston-
ished face and went
to bed. I thought
the ultimate let-
ting-go had
occurred. Little did
I know that there
was more to come.
Since then, the
"letting gos" have
gotten even more
serious. The last
two "letting gos"
have involved many
miles. One son is
on the East Coast
and one is on the
west. We are, as
one friend put it, a
bi-coastal family. I,
however, am not
one to board a
plane unless it is
absolutely necessary. It's not the actu-
al plane ride that bothers me, it's the
takeoff and landing and these two
elements appear to be essentials in
the "getting there" process. When my
older boy began college, I remember
LETTING Go on page 29
I know we're not supposed to learn
morals and values and impressions of
others who we don't know from televi-
sion, but who are we kidding: so
many people do. Educated or not, big
city and small town. TV has more
influence than we'd like to believe.
In The Jewish News Scene this week
(page XX), the lead story tells about
what young Jews watch on the boob
tube. "Ally McBeal" won unanimous
applause from the twentysomethings
in this community, men and women
alike. So did the old comedy standbys
"Seinfeld," "Friends" and even "The
Simpsons" — all of which have dealt
with Jewish stereotypes, some more
stigmatizing than others.
For a minority population that has
attained lofty goals, American Jewry is
portrayed on television in an ambigu-
ous light at best, a derogatory, stereo-
typical portrayal more frequently.
WHO WE ARE on page 29
11/7
1997
27