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