Allow me to paint you a picture. I sat around a dying campfire, surrounded by a new family that I had created over the last 3 weeks. As I looked around, I could only see moments I’d never forget. Moments of stupid activities, bonding moments, and so many good laughs. We were all seated on benches surrounding the campfire, and in the center stood one man. Our coordinator, the one who had not only left an impact on all of us but had created this amazing opportunity for all of us. He was not just our coordinator but a part of the family. His name is Danny Freedman.
Danny was the Kallah coordinator for Kallah 2022, which meant that he planned all of the Aleph separates programs throughout Kallah. We had 3 separates programs throughout those three weeks, and two of them, in particular, have become ingrained in my memory. The first one was the first shabbat we were at camp, and the second one was the very last night of Kallah. Both of them started in the same place, but the places they ended were so different from one another. Not just their location, but the thoughts and conversations that were carried on throughout those programs were as different as left and right. If you allow me, I want to go in depth into these programs that truly altered my outlook on not only my life but my view of the world.
“Man up.” I’m sure we’ve all heard this before, but what does it really mean? It incites that men are supposed to be strong, and aggressive but, most of all, are not supposed to have emotions. We began that night by writing down our insecurity. We passed out a piece of paper, and they were all collected after a few short minutes. The papers that held our deepest insecurities were held for later. Our madrichim, who had been with us during the entire program, began to speak up. One by one, they spoke about the meaning of the term “man up” to them. While I will not share what they told us because I would like to respect their privacy and the privacy of that space we entered into, but just know that they spoke to each and every one of us. Their stories were about the term “man up;” and how that term had not only defined but impacted their lives. That term had not allowed them to feel free to express their emotions. They all mentioned how that term mentally created an image of what a man should be that confined their entire life.
This struck me as extremely accurate to my life because I have also felt this way throughout my life. In today’s generation, while in theory, we preach men being able to express their emotions and be free to be who they are. However, many times in today's society, men are criticized to an extreme degree and tend to return to this mindset of “man up” or “be a man.” We look around us to find a community that welcomes us as we come unapologetically ourselves. Going back to the program, we were passed out noisemakers. We were asked a series of questions relating to our own experiences with masculinity. We were prompted to shake our noisemakers when we agreed with a statement. It was so freeing to know that I was not alone in my experiences.
We ended the program with a moment of unity. The pieces of paper on which we had written down our biggest insecurities earlier were read aloud, and we were encouraged but not required to come and take our paper as it was read. One by one, we all stepped up to get our paper as it was read, showing that we all have our own insecurities, but we are absolutely not alone if we have our brother Alephs.
This leads me to the final separates of Kallah. Even before they began, the most notable difference between the two programs was the bond we all shared. At that first separates, I could only name about 30 of my fellow Alephs who were there. By the final separates, I could name every single one of them. From the Alephs I had only spoken to once to the ones I had bunked with throughout that entire summer program. Now, back to the program. The program was the last separates of Kallah, the culmination of our 21 day experience at Camp Perlman in Starlight, PA.
We sat around a burning fire that had been created for us at a fire pit on the edge of camp. We sat on benches surrounding the fire, and we were told to listen. To listen to a story of a group of boys who had been outcasted from a high school fraternity, and decided to create their own in spite of everything being thrown at them. We sat down and were asked to create a mantra that we could live by for our life. We all took our time and came up with spectacular new ones. Some included inside jokes from the session, while others based theirs on mantras they had heard before, and others took a completely unique approach to the mantras. As a K’far (village), we were asked whether we approved of each mantra. We each wrote ours down on a piece of paper and, one by one going around the circle stood up and presented our mantras to the K’far. Each and every mantra was unanimously accepted. We proceeded to burn our mantras one by one in the fire, after which we gathered as a K’far one last time for our inductions at Kallah 2022. These mantras meant something different to each and every one of us, and I personally use my mantra in my daily life. The mantra that I created was, “Just because something is difficult, it doesn’t mean that there isn’t a way to succeed. Find strength in a struggle” Everyday I push myself to remember this mantra and make myself do something that seems difficult, and find some way to succeed at it.
Overall, the biggest things I took away from these experiences were a new personal mantra to live by and a new found connection to my masculinity and my life. One challenge I would urge everyone to do is sit with a notebook or the notes app on their phone open for 5 minutes just thinking, then come up with a personal mantra you can challenge yourself to follow every day. A mantra can help you become the person you want to be and help you improve your view on life. Maybe all you need in life is a new perspective, and you’ll see a completely different world than the one you currently live in. As Issac Newton said, in order to see farther, all you gotta do is “stand on the shoulders of giants.”
David Sternfeld is an Aleph living in Charleston, South Carolina who loves 3D printing, swimming, and playing baseball.
All views expressed on content written for The Shofar represent the opinions and thoughts of the individual authors. The author biography represents the author at the time in which they were in BBYO.