A Roze(nsky) By Any Other Name

  
family wedding photos

A collection of wedding photos from Jordyn’s family.

In 2011, TheKnot.com surveyed almost 20,000 newlywed women. They found that only 8 percent kept their last names. Of the remaining 92 percent, 86 percent took their partner’s last name. Six percent hyphenated or created a new last name.

While I’ve seen other studies that show the percentage of women who keep their last names at closer to 20 percent, the fact remains: Changing your name after marriage is the “normal” thing to do.

Changing my name has never felt like the right move for me—my last name is the one on my degrees, it’s part of the name of my photography business, it’s the name I’ve written under, and, it’s the name I’ve used my entire life. I’ve given this some serious thought. I support a person’s right to choose the name that feels like the best fit for them, and I understand the idea that a unified last name presents a unified team.

But, for me, changing my name just doesn’t feel right.

(It also should be noted, that Justin isn’t up for changing his last name either. My last name is hard to spell, and he’s spent too long building his brand to change his name to something else. I don’t think this is a conversation only half of a couple should be having—if name changes are on the table, they should be on the table for everyone.)

It wasn’t until recently, when concepts like name changes shifted from hypothetical to reality, did something click for me. Changing my last name would mean separating my name from my family’s name—and taking a step away from my Jewish identity.

I know that marrying Justin, who isn’t Jewish, won’t make me any less Jewish.

It won’t make our home any less Jewish; it won’t invalidate the mezuzah hanging on the door, or make my observance of holidays any less meaningful.

It won’t make my work any less Jewish; it won’t tarnish my past community organizing, nor will it make my work with Keshet and commitment to full LGBTQ inclusion in the Jewish community less authentic.

Taking Justin’s last name wouldn’t make me any less Jewish… but it feels that way.

Jordyn's grandparent's celebrating a wedding anniversary.

Jordyn’s grandparents celebrating a wedding anniversary.

As an Ashkenazi Jew, with a very classically Ashkenazi Jewish last name, my name is a calling card. Rozensky, with its “rozen” and its “sky,” shouts Jewish. I can trace its Jewish history. My name comes with a connection to my people—not just in the sense of “the chosen people,” but also in the way it connects me to previous generations of Rozenskys. I’m not ready to step away from that tradition.

There will be plenty of compromises made in our marriage; after all, meeting each other halfway is an important part of keeping a relationship working. But when it comes to our names—which hold such important aspects of our identities—compromise doesn’t seem like the best bet.

Finding a Ceremony Location that Fits

  

1010908_823532926310_949039676_nWhere do you get married when you don’t officially “belong” anywhere? This question, which seems rather dramatic, was the first hurdle of wedding planning.

Here are some places that we quickly checked off the list:

– A rotating wedding with stops at each temple or church where a friend of ours works as a rabbi and/or spiritual leader: problematic mostly as this particular world wide wedding tour would probably require a month long commitment for any wedding participant.

– My very first truly Jewish home, the Smith College Kosher Kitchen: while the space is filled with amazing memories of learning how to braid challah, welcoming Shabbat, and being part of true community, it’s not exactly equipped for a wedding shindig.

– The churches that Justin attended growing up: a destination wedding wasn’t something we were 100% opposed to, but asking family to trek out to the winding trail of places he called home (from Ohio to South Dakota back to Ohio and on to Pennsylvania) as he grew up wasn’t exactly practical.

After all, as an interfaith couple with varied roots and no shared official physical spiritual home, there is no obvious, easy answer. And, as we look to bring together a diverse group of family and friends, we want to avoid the “eek” feeling that often accompanies being in someone else’s religions home base. (We’re introducing enough new things as it is!)

Our dramatic question of belonging (or a lack thereof) answered itself when we took a different tact to planning. When we rephrased the question from “where do you get married when you put religious tradition in the center” to “where do you get married when you put your own relationship in the center” the options started to reveal themselves.

A ceremony in a science museum? Why not? (Unless there are mummies—I have an irrational fear of mummies.)

A ceremony on a boat? Sure! (Weather permitting. And is one allowed to be both captain and bride?)

A ceremony in an abandoned theater with no lights, no running water, and a more than fine layer of dust? Yes. That’s the winner.355828_orig

When we looked at locations that had significance to us, a vacant theater became the obvious choice. Justin has been a part of a community of urban explorers for far longer than I’ve known him, and I’ve come to appreciate the beauty that is found in a place paused in time. We are people who, individually and as a couple, value adventure, the offbeat, finding experiences that might not jive with the norms—and so this feels more like “us” than any church or synagogue we might find.

634257_origI wouldn’t go as far as saying that this is where we find our “sacred” … but, there is something holy about appreciating glamour where someone else might not look twice.

Taking a space, one that has been forgotten by its surroundings, and stepping back is a powerful experience. There’s beauty in seeing a place for what it once was, what it is now, and what it could be. (And, isn’t that the essence of a relationship? Appreciating all steps of the journey?) For us, the idea of transforming a quiet, slightly downtrodden theater into a site for a ceremony just makes sense. We’re adding the lights, we’re bringing in the huppah, but the magic of the building was already there.

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How I Found The Gown

  

Just like my guy, my wedding dress found me in a weird unexpected way that, despite having watched more episodes of Say Yes To The Dress than I can count, took me by surprise.

What I Thought I Wanted

What I thought I wanted...

My mother had saved her wedding dress in case I wanted to wear it at my wedding, and I promised her it would be the first dress I put on. I didn’t want to try it on alone, and I had no idea how to unpack or repack it so as to preserve the last 33 years…so I invited three of my friends over one Saturday morning, kicked my fiancé out of the apartment, and played dress up.

The thing is, it really felt like I was playing dress up. I felt like I was wearing a costume, not my wedding dress, and while it’s a gorgeous dress and fit me perfectly, the high neck, long sleeves, and overall itchiness made me feel like it was not for me. But I was also upset in that I really felt like someone playing dress up. Would I not feel like a bride? Would I not be a bride?

I thought of Carrie Bradshaw on Sex and the City and the episode where she realizes that she can’t marry Aidan after having a reaction to the wedding dress. As I asked my friend to unzip me, a small part of me was afraid this was another step in that direction.  Maybe I wasn’t meant to be a bride?

So rather than waiting for the appointments I had planned with my family and friends back in New York City, I snuck to the David’s Bridal a block from my house one night without an appointment about a half hour before it closed. I just wanted to look around and get a vision of myself in a wedding dress that wasn’t from 1981. I literally put my box of pizza on the floor and tried to go through the racks.

Eventually, a sales person approached me and asked me if I needed help. I explained my project – that I just wanted to try on a dress to get the image of my mom’s dress out of my head. I showed them the picture. They understood. (And this isn’t knocking my mom’s dress – it’s a beautiful dress, and I would be honored to wear it – it just didn’t feel like mine). So she showed me to a catalogue and I hurriedly selected a few dresses I wanted to try, apologizing the whole way.

Since I wasn’t expecting to get THE dress, I had chosen a short dress off the sales rack that I thought might be a good option for one of my engagement parties. I put it on and… no. Not the one.

First dress

The first dress I tried on

So I grabbed one of the two dresses she had left for me and tried that on instead. I remember feeling that it was a little fluffy – I wasn’t sure whether to put it over my head or step into it. There was no coddling – I was alone in the dressing room trying it on. But as I stepped out, I glowed. It was beautiful. It was elegant. It was simple. It was romantic. It was timeless. It was classic. It was me.

But I wasn’t looking for THE dress, so I just asked them to take a picture of it, hurriedly tried on a sheath dress that wasn’t nearly as magnificent but was what I had thought I wanted, and went home.

Only I couldn’t stop staring at the picture. I wanted to show everyone. It was so beautiful. I thought, “This might be The One.”

Sure enough, I became even more excited about my long planned dress shopping appointment in part because it was only a few miles from the David’s Bridal in New York and I could go show everyone how amazing the dress was if nothing else worked. As I tried on dresses at the bridal salon with my mother, my grandmother, and one of my best friends, I just kept comparing everything to the dress from Chicago – the no name, but the one that was just so me.

And soon we were in the car again heading to David’s Bridal, and I was in the dress again, and ringing a bell saying yes to the dress. It wasn’t the designer I thought. Or the price. Or the style. But I cannot imagine walking down the aisle in anything else. So I guess it found me.

This Is What We Are Going To Look Like For the Rest Of Our Lives

  


I made a comment to Lisa while we were getting our hair done together this week. This is what you and I are going to look like on our wedding day. It was a jarring statement that caught Lisa off guard.

I did not mean that we were walking down the aisle in jeans and hooded sweatshirts. I meant that if you asked 5-year-old Ryan what he would look like or who was the man he was going to be on his wedding day, he could not have imagined it. And everything is different from what I imagined on my 15th birthday. And even at 25, I would not have believed you I would be getting married 600 miles from where I grew up and that was only four years ago.

At the beginning of this blog, I was asked to introduce Lisa and me as a couple. That couple could not have planned what lay ahead for the both of us. It is amazing to look back when I first started writing in April and see the changes in our lives that have happened since then. Many of them were not planned, but Lisa and I remained a team and got through all the ups and downs together. The wedding we planned in April is nowhere near identical to the wedding that is happening in just 8 days.

Where am I going with this? I don’t know.

My spiritual mentor Scott and I talked about the power of “I do not know” this week during our weekly chat. Sometimes in life, it is best not to know. There is a lot of truth in that statement. We tend to get caught up on what we do know, and forget that we do not need to know everything in order to be successful. We simply have to trust that G-D has got it worked out.

Easier said than done. Especially this close to the date and you feel like you have to know everything. Everything needs to be set in stone. And maybe for the wedding it does have to be. However, at the moment, in life, it is best that I do not know life’s full plan. Knowing that I love Lisa with all my heart is really all I need. Life’s other details will be taken care of with or without my help, it seems.

I have talked about being spiritually ready to get married throughout the course of this entire blog. I can say that I am ready and have not even gone to the mikveh yet. What I thought “spiritually ready” looked like in April, and actually feeling it now, into my soul, are two very different things.

Being of Service During Your Services

  

"...the one who chops your wood.. that you may enter into the covenant with the LORD your God, and into His oath which the LORD your God is making with you today" - Deuteronomy 29:11

One aspect to my spiritual life and was instilled into me by my original mentor and many who came after, was to be of service. In the beginning I took the suggestions that being of service meant giving someone a ride if they needed it. Or if someone was struggling it meant to stop and lend an ear. I came to understand that being of service meant being in service to others and to G-D. My experience has shown again and again that being of service was a keystone to spiritual development.

After those first experiences, I began to realize I was being drawn further into the nonprofit sector as a desired occupation. Before I knew it I was working at a nonprofit food bank and volunteering my time at two other nonprofits. Even during my current job search, I find myself unable to get away from wanting to have an extra purpose in going to work each day.

When it comes to the wedding, there not a lot of time when we can be of service to others. After all, this wedding is about us. As I discussed my “food blog post” we need to at least give everyone a good meal. Meatballs and doughnuts is the least we could do. And since making that decision, not everything has been easier, but it did give us a brief moment of calm when it came to planning.

When it comes to my religious practices, we always talk about Jewish “Services” for the holidays and Shabbat. Although we call it a wedding ceremony, couldn’t it also be called a wedding service? But why would we call it a service? It is the whole reason we decided to have a Jewish service in a Catholic Chapel, because it is for G-D. When we join together on that day, those prayers are for us, but also very much for G-D as well. The whole ceremony is joining the three of us in a holy union of love. Sounds like being in service to G-D to me.

Being of service and chopping wood for an underprivledged camp

This blog has focused largely on being spiritually ready for the big day. So if being of service is important, than how was I in service this week? I actually found myself at a working interview at a soup kitchen and food pantry. I do not think there is any higher calling than giving people the basic need of food. Ever since leaving Philadelphia and the food bank there, I missed working in that environment. I missed it so much that even spent part of my time during a business trip in New Orleans at TribeFest, where I met Editor Lindsey Silken, this past year and volunteered at a food bank. It is the most rewarding thing to do with my time and at the end of this, there may even be a chance at an upcoming open position. I actually agreed to have the second working interview this upcoming Tuesday, before I turn 100% of my thoughts over to the wedding.

“Service which is rendered without joy helps neither the servant nor the served. But all other pleasures and possessions pale into nothingness before service which is rendered in a spirit of joy.” – Mahtma Gandhi.

An Inter-Faith Yom Kippur in a Time of Weddings

  


This year may have been the perfect snapshot for our inter-faith life together.

As Friday settled in and the sun began to set, we began to prepare for the weekend. I was preparing my body by beginning my fast. Lisa was preparing for a busy Saturday.

One thing that makes Lisa a wonderful inter-faith partner is that she asked me before she made dinner if I minded. Since to my knowledge, there is not a lot of fasting in Catholicism, she wanted to be respectful for my decision to practice faith in a way that was meaningful for me. I never once expected her to fast with me because our relationship is based on encouragement and not on forced decisions.

When we rose on Saturday, it was going to be a busy day for the both of us.

We both attended the Saturday morning services for Yom Kippur.

Although the services and sermon was great, it was the simplest things of the day that brought me the most joy. A year ago, I could not even enter a temple if I wanted to because major knee surgery had me laid up and streaming the services from my computer. And as we chanted during services, we would have been grateful and content. However, with so much changing over the past year, outside my relationship with Lisa, our temple was the only constant. And for that I would have been grateful and content. The last part I will say about services is that it was great to have Lisa there for me in the morning. When I attended the afternoon services without her, she was dearly missed. However, she was there in the morning for me and for that I am grateful and content.

When I asked Lisa about services, her first answer was the most important. She liked being there for me. It melts my heart a little bit even to think of it. However, her overall view was that a lot of things remained universal. There were songs to be sung, readings to follow, and a sermon to be heard. She was most fascinated with seeing the Torah scrolls being unveiled from behind the curtain and then carried around to be touched by tallit or prayer books and then kissed.

Lisa At Her Bridal Shower

Lisa also had a busy rest of the day preparing for the wedding. She needed to go purchase a slip for her dress and several other pressing wedding purchases. And this was before she needed to attend her own bridal shower that day. We know we should have planned better to not have it on such a big day, but that is when most people were available and since we do have not a very active Jewish circle of friends, no one really thought much of it until the date was set. Lisa was grateful for all those who were able to attend the event.

This snapshot of our day is very much what it is like to live in an inter-faith world; we all just need to be respectful of everyone’s decisions and try to be there in the best ways that we can.

Expectations, Acceptance, and Fantasy Football

  

“My Happiness grows in direct proportion to my acceptance, and in inverse proportion to my expectations.” – Michael J. Fox

My Original Draft


One thing about me is that I am an avid fantasy football player. As a matter of fact, I am champion of one league, two years in a row and am currently tied for first place in that league again. Before the season began and even before the draft, I went over my team from last year. I realized that I had very little of my original team that I drafted still on that team. That means that week in and week out, I played the game. I worked hard and it brought home two championships. This year is not much different. I selected Adrian Peterson with my first pick in the draft, thinking it was a steal at the fifth overall spot. I expected him to be a stud and carry my team to victory. However, due to his legal issues, he is sitting on my bench and I have had to pay attention every day and make the smart decisions to put me into first place. As a matter of fact, my only loss of the year was when he was playing for me in the first game. Every win since then has taken a lot of work and of course some luck.

Planning a wedding and a life is not much different.

There will be expectations when you begin planning. Some of those will not be met. You accept them and continue to forge ahead.

One expectation Lisa had was that her grandparents would be able to attend the ceremony. It looks like now, the trip may be a little much for them and we are both a little heartbroken. For myself and those who have been reading along, know that I was very excited to have my spiritual mentor come be at my side during the wedding. As it turns out, he was over committed and triple booked that weekend and could not get out of one commitment to be at the wedding.

In life, I have really been focusing on the expectations not being met in, but in a positive way. As the job search continues, I am overwhelmed by the experience. But in a good way. In the middle of the recession, I lost my job and it took nearly two years to find steady employment and many hours submitting resume after resume. I had those expectations when I sat down and started the job process this time. However, people are stepping up in ways I did not expect. Every day, my face is in front of someone new or someone offering advice and information. It has actually made the process exciting and even enjoyable. Instead of expecting the worst, I accepted this is the reality and it has helped my outlook tremendously.

My Team Today


As we enter in Yom Kippur this weekend and continue to reflect, I had a lot of expectations over this past year. What would happen and where I would be today. I cannot do much with those failed expectations. I can accept that I have a beautiful fiancé that I could not be more excited about marrying in just over a month. I can accept that I am being overwhelmed with support from people right now. I accept and cherish that I can put extra time into the wedding planning. I accept that not having a job is allowing me for a visit back east. I can accept I will not be at a desk for the next month and instead will be spiritually readying myself for the big day and what comes next. I do not expect, I simply accept in just over a month I am going to be surrounded by loved ones and have one of the greatest days of our lives.

A Hard Year Behind Us, A New Year Ahead

  


Rosh Hashana is the new set of instructions, the new game plan coming down from Heaven.” – David Sacks, Leader of The Happy Minyan.

One of the things we celebrate at this time year is the chance to begin anew.

As of this past Friday, life is going to be starting in new ways quite frankly which we had not planned. I lost my job. And for the first time in awhile, I am simply at a loss for words.

I was trying to come up with a theme or message for this post, but keep coming up short. Therefore, I will do what happens when I go and give a mentoring talk and am not feeling incredibly inspired. Just share my honest experience and hope I am able to help one person.

This year has been tough, for Lisa and me. A year ago, I was stuck in a chair, completely laid up due to a massive knee surgery. The return to normal from there has been a long process and I still feel some of the effects of that every day. Lisa and I also were pushed out of one of the things we loved most in this world and the thing that brought us together: roller derby. And now, we are dealing with the loss of a job. All while planning a wedding.

Jilly, a niece and a flower girl, after her first roller coaster!

This weekend we had a simple mission. Put one foot in front of the other one. Do the next right thing. Be in the moment. The remainder of Friday was spent talking to my spiritual adviser as well as my temple rabbis. One even shared that while she was getting married, her husband lost a job too. Saturday and Sunday we were visiting Lisa’s family, trying to remain normal and focus on being around people who care for us. When I look back at the weekend, I remember the people who cared, the people who reached out and the look on our niece, and flower girl’s face after she got off her first roller coaster.

Monday, we are back to the new reality.

Tuesday, we marched ahead and continued planning our wedding the way we envisioned it. We are too far along to be able to change much.

The next couple weeks are now going to be split between holidays, wedding planning and a job search. Lisa has a lot coming up as well. Her bridal shower and attending her first Jewish High Holiday services.

These upcoming weeks are going to be interesting. So in the meantime, L’shanah tovah (Happy New Year).

Signing a Ketubah in a Sacristy

  

Cole Porter famously wrote, “What is this thing called love? This funny thing called love. Just who can solve its mystery?” It is hard to explain love. We try. Poets try. Scientists try. However, it all falls short in the actual feeling one gets while being in love.

One piece of spiritual advice I like to adhere to is that you should do what you feel connects you to G-D. When being a Reform Jew in my daily practice, the guidelines seem looser, and this allows me to find a Judaism that works for me on a daily basis. It is one reason why I eat “kosher”, but do not ask Lisa to do the same. (My definition of kosher is that I do not eat shellfish, do not mix meat and cheese, and no consumption of pork.)

These two ideas brings us to the Ketubah Ceremony. I cannot exactly explain why I feel the importance of the Ketubah. I hold the ceremony, the tradition in the highest regard not much dissimilar to a High Holy Day.

For those who are new to Jewish traditions, the Ketubah is a piece of art that is hung by the entrance of a Jewish or Inter-Faith home. It is there to remind you each day as you enter the home of that day and the happiness in your life. The art usually encompasses words that are very similar to traditional wedding vows. It also is the religious version of a marriage contract where it is signed by Bride, Groom, Officiate, and two non-family Jewish friends as witnesses. (There is a story about the witnesses, but I will save it for another time.)

The signing of the Ketubah is a short ceremony the couple does with a very small group (though some couples invite more of their guests to witness it) right before the big walk down the aisle. And in our true inter-faith fashion, we decided last weekend to sign the Ketubah in the chapel’s sacristy. The sacristy is where most items like the chalice, vestments, and altar cloths are stored for the priest before mass. It is a very ritualistic room and we feel it is the perfect place for an inter-faith Ketubah ceremony.

When it comes to the purchasing of the Ketubah, I felt strongly about spending a large but reasonable amount of money. Apparently, that is a trend of mine as I also purchased an original comic book page from a convention this weekend. And when this piece of art symbolizes so much importance, spending a little extra never hurt.

Our actual Ketubah purchase was easy as we looked on a couple websites like Etsy, but selected one from ketubah.com. Lisa and I have very different tastes when it comes to art, so we looked through quite a bit until we found something that we were comfortable looking at for the rest of our lives.

The most adventurous part of the Ketubah purchase was when selecting and editing the text. Although I can be wordy and passionate, Lisa plays the role of reserved and is not quite as flowery I am when it comes to language. Due to that, we are not doing vows during our ceremony, and the Ketubah will serve that purpose during our actual wedding. Therefore, getting the inter-faith language perfect was critical. We also had an in-between-the-planning moment recently which I talked about the importance of here.

No clever ending today. Ready for the weekend. 57 days to go…

Liminal Space and the Yichud

  

Two weeks ago, I wrote about the space between the checklists, but this week, I wanted to go further.

One of my favorite spiritual concepts is the idea of liminal space. I think about this concept a lot. I try to see where in my life, I am in liminal space.

It was taught to me to by a former mentor who explained it this way, when you look between rooms, or a door, there is a small space between the two. That space does not show up in a floor plan and it is not counted when looking at square space. However, you have go through that space in order to get to the place you need or want to be. If become hungry, I simply cannot stay in the living room. I have to get up and move into the kitchen. However, I do not stop in between the two rooms and get fed, I have to go further and into a new room to take care of this hunger.
The foundation for much of spiritual work is done in liminal space. The space between the current situation and the new situation. We have to do work and go into that uncomfortable space if we hope to come out on the other side.

Lisa and I began our time together in two separate cities, separated by 600 miles. It was a subtle space between us, but we grew to love one another because we had that space. Before we met in person, our long conversations were intense and deep. We grew in that space apart and without knowing it, that new space we were moving into was to be the most important relationship of our lives.

When planning a wedding, life is very much lived in liminal space. We have spent nearly a year planning this endeavor and when it is said and done, we really begin to plan life together. It is not like Lisa and I have not spent time talking about our dreams of owning a home and having children, but with a wedding, those plans are set temporarily on the back burner.

Lisa and I also are in a lot of liminal space in our everyday lives. I am still within the first two years of my long-term career and Lisa is still searching niche in the working world. If you remember back to our first post, we met through the sport of roller derby. After being so heavily involved with the sport years (seven for me and nine for Lisa) both of us on a hiatus and I am leaning towards yoga and ballet. I still feel in spiritual transition between Conservative services and Reform services. Moving from one coast to another, just puts everything into liminal as the settling process begins.

A picture of a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon from a recent trip to Columbus, OH and is a lot like entering liminal space


After the ceremony, we are finally out of liminal space, and officially a married couple. I am already excited to take time and have a Yichud. A Yichud is when the bride and groom take a couple minutes to just be by themselves. It is that moment, when we end our lives as we have known it and step into a new one. Honestly, this week I thought about this moment, and I cried. That is what the movement out of liminal space can create, true moments of joy. It creates a true spiritual experience. One that Lisa and I can share forever in our truly inter-faith life together.