"The most powerful message that we can send our young men and women is to seek advice"

Women in Medicine [MatchQuest / Issue 788]

I would like to respectfully disagree with the response given to “Tired and Frustrated” regarding the shidduch situation of a girl in med school. It is true that today’s gender roles are not black and white, and are constantly shifting and evolving.

It is also true, however, that our communities need more frum female physicians, specifically because of the feminine nature we women possess. From a patient’s perspective, having a physician who understands your unique cultural and spiritual background significantly enhances the medical care you receive. Especially in fields such as women’s health, psychiatry, and pediatrics, a frum woman brings so much to the table — besides her medical expertise. I would argue that choosing a career in medicine may actually allow a frum woman to tap into her innately feminine nature, and combine that with medical training to truly help our communities and make a difference.

As far as shidduchim are concerned, the process really does seem especially daunting for someone who chooses a career path different from what is considered “the norm.” As a frum wife and mother about to start residency, this would be my advice: It’s easy to become so consumed by medical training that it becomes your whole identity. In reality, though, if you are someone who wants to build a Jewish home, there is likely a lot more to you than just your career aspirations. Take the time to develop the other aspects of yourself. What kind of mother do you want to be? What kind of home do you want to have? What are your hobbies outside of medicine? Which chesed activities are you passionate about?

Once you meet the right person, you can connect over so much more than just your career. And at the end of the day, your spouse will appreciate the many facets of who you are — including, but not limited to, the fact that you’re a doctor.

Dassi (Gabrielle) Fink

Fourth-year medical student, NYITCOM

Plethora of Products [Musings / Issue 788]

I found Mindel Kassorla’s description of the first Pesach she made as a married couple very touching and real.

But I was surprised and confused at her description of the “minimal” cleaning supplies available in Israel. Do we live in the same country?

Shortly before Pesach, the mega-manufacturer Sano distributes an entire brochure devoted solely to cleaning products. The selection is staggering. There is a full array of cleaning supplies for every room in the house. There are sprays, powders, wipes, and gels. There are products for windows, for doors, for ovens, for bathtubs, for toilets, for tiles, for trissim, for silver, for stainless steel surfaces, and for wood surfaces. And this is only one manufacturer — there are many others.

Visit any supermarket in Israel and you will be dazzled by the variety of cleaning products. Israelis love to clean, and they know and love their cleaning products. It’s true that bleach is heavily favored here (Israelis tend to do things all the way!), but by no means is the selection of cleaning items limited or backward.

An American living in (a very clean apartment in) Israel

A Story’s Impact [Inbox / Issue 788]

Thank you for printing my letter in which I questioned the value of printing the story about the wife who divorced her husband who had mental illness, and for the responding letters as well. I apologize for the opening tone of my letter, especially for any pain it caused to anyone who is unfortunately in a similar situation and was able to get chizuk or guidance from the original story.

As a society, we struggle to find the balance between creating safety and support for those in extreme unfortunate circumstances, and exposing the rest of the population to these issues, including young and impressionable readers and others who might be adversely affected. In recent years, there has been a swing toward more exposure, and there are definite benefits to that trend — most notably in increased awareness, support and assistance for the victims.

At the same time, we must acknowledge that there is a downside. Just as chemo treatments destroy malignant growths but also harm healthy tissue, stories of extreme dysfunction are not totally harmless for those who are baruch Hashem not in need of hearing them. Teenagers. Young women in shidduchim. Wives in “normal” but challenging marriages.

Because while reading such stories will not send them running for a divorce, it does plant the seed that marriage is scary and dangerous. That the available options are to cope, suffer, or get out. That men (because the villains are always men) are to blame and that women are powerless.

And when they repeatedly read such stories, without seeing accounts of other types of challenges where the wife was able to create change — then that damage is compounded.

Of course the most powerful message that we can send our young men and women is to seek advice. And we hope that advisor will be able to direct and advise the questioner, and to know when the situation requires a referral to a higher level professional or therapist, or a more extreme intervention.

But we can do more.

The main intent of my letter is to address the unbalanced messaging created by repeated stories of unhealthy marriages.

As a family magazine, Mishpacha is in a unique position to provide constructive assistance to those whose marriages are not what they would wish. As a forum for stories, both true and fictional, the magazine has the opportunity to provide a balanced viewpoint and real, actionable advice, by sharing more narratives of women in challenging but healthy marriages, who learned practical tools that go far beyond the vague and worn-out advice to “work on your marriage” — and were empowered to create real change in their relationships.

Alisa Avruch

Marriage Educator and Coach

The Secret Spark

Please Look with Compassion [What You Don’t See / Issue 787]

I read with interest and apprehension the article about “invisible” disabilities. The experiences described were both familiar and intensely painful.

I am a sister to a wonderful and challenging sibling who was mainstreamed and attended the same schools that I did. There were so many, many difficult and embarrassing moments, as my sister, who looked just like everyone else, threw tantrums, shouted, and spoke familiarly and intrusively to my friends. I remember wishing, so often, that her external appearance would give some hint to her inner neurodiversity. I’m ashamed to admit that I would look at children with Down syndrome and in wheelchairs, wishing that my sister could look like them so others would be more understanding of her behavior.

The world has come a long way in accepting neurodiverse children and adults, as well as mental health difficulties. Please, let us look at unusual or atypical behavior with compassion, and the acknowledgement that underneath, there can be a world of unknown diagnoses and struggle

Name Withheld

Time for Teens [Musings / Issue 787]

I loved Yael Rosen’s depiction of teenage girls who see their unmatched brothers as “dysfunctional,” their accidentally matching with sisters as “awkward,” the not-clean-enough house as “mortifying,” and the requests to clean up after themselves as “abusive.”

Mark Twain commented that as a teen, he used to think his father wasn’t too wise, but was amazed at how his father wised up during his college years. Let’s all hang in there while our teens learn to appreciate our “emerging” wisdom!

Ilana Orange

Sad Is Not Bad [Trapped Tears / Issue 786]

I read the article “Trapped Tears” with a lot of gratitude, appreciating the clarity with which Goldie presented many complex grief topics.

I specifically appreciated the part where she speaks about stifling grief by being busy. I cannot tell you how often family members will ask me, “Do you have anything to keep this person busy so they won’t be as sad?” Sad is not a bad thing. When it comes to grief, it is a completely appropriate emotion, and Hashem in His wisdom allowed for that to be part of the mourning process.

As bystanders and caring people, it’s often hard for us to carry another’s sadness, and so we seek to find ways to distract them so that we don’t have to be witness to that.

But allowing the griever to grieve and be is a gift.

Sarah Rivkah Kohn

Founder & Director, Zisel’s Links & Shlomie’s Club

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 790)