Jay Fishman
English 12, Pd 4
Ms. Swann-Pye
April 7, 2017
The small brown-bricked building two blocks away from my house at 5316 New Utrecht Avenue may seem ordinary. Despite its commonplace appearance, however, the building hosts an organization which oversees an instrumental aspect of the Hasidic community in the region. It is the location of the Technology Awareness Group (TAG) organization in Borough Park.
As its name somewhat suggests, TAG’s purpose is to raise awareness about and prevent the “dangers” technology could present, most notably the internet, to the community. According to its website, “TAG provides free community service for computers, smartphones, laptops, tablets and many other digital devices, to have them filtered in order to prevent access to inappropriate material.” For example, when my older brother received a smart phone about a year ago, they put a filter that blocked all internet connected apps on his phone except gmail, google maps, and waze; he was not even able to search on Google. It is not a local organization; TAG has locations in eighteen different ultra-Orthodox, Jewish communities in the United States and another eleven in Europe (and one more in Melbourne). Having locations in almost every major ultra-Orthodox neighborhood worldwide (except in Israel, where there are already different organizations with the same purpose), TAG plays a significant role in ultra-Orthodox Jewry, and that reveals an internal struggle the Haredi, Jewish community is facing.
Focusing on preserving their unique identity, traditions, and extreme religious piety and purity, Haredim cherish seclusion as an integral part of community life. Intermingling with anyone who is not a member of the community is extremely frowned upon; even other Jews but who are not Haredi are avoided. They have their our own schools, supermarkets, and shopping centers. Non-Jewish music, books, and magazines are all prohibited. Watching television or movies, or even listening the radio are forbidden. (My parents’ legal divorce agreement, upon the insistence of my mother, includes, “The parties further agree that they shall not expose the children to television… or grant the children free access to computers as is contrary to the values of Orthodox Judaism and their community.”) With the recent advent of the internet, however, remaining isolated from mainstream society has become incredibly more challenging.
As the internet revolution approached, the community found itself faced with a challenge never encountered before. Unlike previous “threats”, the content on the internet is much more diverse and “harmful”; all kinds of ideas and media can easily be found, often even accidentally. To make matters worse, the smartphone revolution soon followed, enabling people to surf the web on a small cellphone, which can easily be hidden and shown to others. Over the last decade or so, increasingly more people have left (and continue to leave) the insular community, and community leaders began blaming the internet for this exodus. Hence, initially, the internet was treated much like the previous “threats” of the radio and television. Community rabbis simply banned it, and the minority of people who had a computer at home did not connect it to the internet.
Soon, however, the internet and smartphones started to become more of a necessity than a privilege. To keep up with their business, people in the community were forced to have internet access. The community leaders realized that continuing to outright ban the internet and smartphones is extremely impractical, to say the least. A revised counter-internet strategy and movement were urgently needed.
Some “kosher” internet filters were developed for the community, and with the explicit permission of a rabbi limited internet use was allowed for business. At the same time, stricter guidelines were also implemented. Most community schools now require parents to provide their cellphone for inspection before accepting their children to ensure that it is not a smartphone and if they do have one for work with the permission of a rabbi that it is appropriately filtered. (Students were always forbidden from owning any cell phone, though it is becoming more prevalent.) But each sect/school had their own rules and restrictions. A unified movement was necessary.
On the evening of May 20, 2012, Citi Field Mets' Stadium was filled to capacity. But, as the New York Times puts it, “there was no ballgame scheduled, only a religious rally to discuss the dangers of the Internet.” A newly-founded organization of ultra-Orthodox Jewish leaders, Ichud HaKehillos LeTohar HaMachane ("union of communities for the purity of the camp"), organized a massive asifa (rally) for Jews in the tri-state area to raise awareness about the issue and set unifying guidelines. There was such a large turnout that organizers were forced to last minute also rent out the nearby Arthur Ashe Stadium. (My brother, stepfather, and many family members attended, but I wasn't feeling well that day and couldn't go.) According to the New York Times, “For the attendees, many of whom said they came at the instructions of their rabbis, it was a chance to hear about a moral topic considered gravely important in their community: the potential problems that can stem from access to pornography and other explicit content on the uncensored, often incendiary Web.”
In addition to the tens of thousands of men who attended, there were numerous locations for women (who were not allowed to attend) to listen to a live audio of the event. Demonstrating how important the internet is indeed to many people in the community, the organizers even posted a video of the entire event online. The Yeshiva World, a popular ultra-Orthodox news site which contains the video, writes, “It is well understood that it seems ironic to be posting this video on the Internet. But Rabbonim felt that the incredible [unity] displayed at the Asifa may [inspire] many, many people who were unable to attend.”
In order to effect tangible change, around the same time Ichud HaKehillos established the TAG organization to implement its goals. Thus, TAG symbolizes an internal struggle the community is facing in the age on the internet: how to adapt to the changing world while still maintaining its long-held identity. It reveals both the community’s deep-seated determination to remain isolated from mainstream society and that continuing to do so is becoming increasingly more challenging. Although this challenge may be unique to the ultra-Orthodox community, challenges relating to a community’s relationship to the outside world are not so much.
In contrast to the ultra-Orthodox community's desire to remain isolated and struggling to do so, some communities face an opposing struggle. Communities such as that in The Bluest Eye wish to assimilate to mainstream society but struggle doing so. For example, Pecola Breedlove wishes she could have blue eyes so she can “rise up out of the pit of her blackness and see the world with blue eyes”. But her family is ostracized by society, and Pecola is even looked down upon (literally) by an immigrant grocery store owner.
When Maureen Peal, a light-skinned, wealthy black girl who is accepted by white society, arrives to the neighborhood, the black kids all treat her better than their peers and “adored her”. Although some of them mock her behind her back presumably because they are jealous of her, they are “secretly prepared to be her friend, if she would let [them].” Despite the blacks’ wishes to be a part of white society, however, in the white neighborhood, “houses looked more sturdy, their paint was newer, porch posts straighter, yards deeper.”
Yet, similar to the ultra-Orthodox community’s aspiration, there are individuals in The Bluest Eye who also desire to not assimilate and preserve their culture. When Claudia MacTeer receives a Shirley Temple doll as a gift for Christmas from her family, she dismembers it. She is distraught by her family’s and community’s obsession with white culture and therefore is proud that as a child, “I destroyed white baby dolls”.
The conflicting aspirations of individuals in The Bluest Eye and the extreme seclusion of the ultra-Orthodox community raises an important question: is it better for a community to preserve its identity or to assimilate. (Of course, this is not a black and white situation; communities can drop certain customs while preserving others or even modify some.) One the one hand, remaining isolated enables a community to preserve its traditions and unique identity. But is that truly important? And if so why? On the other hand, being exposed to outside influences provides people with new perspectives and causes them to appreciate others who are not exactly like them more. If they remain secluded, however, does their lack of appreciation hinder or hurt them or others? We probably all agree that certain consequences from either being exposed to or shielded from outside influences, such as hatred either directed towards outsiders or towards oneself, are certainly not beneficial. Overall, however, does seclusion or assimilation do more more good? Should we primarily weigh the benefits of the individuals in the community or of society as a whole? And should we prioritize people who would originally be affected or the future generations? (For example, a child leaving an insular community might cause unimaginable pain to his parents, but ensures a better life for his posterity.) These (and many others) are all important questions that need to be taken into consideration when deciding what is best. And as a Facebook meme I recently saw says, “life is full of questions idiots are full of answers!”