Ballad of Erica Levine

I had a request for the full lyrics of this song, mentioned in my post Contingency and Responsibility.

It's found on page 244 in Rise Up Singing. Hear it on Youtube

The Ballad of Erica Levine
(Bob Blue)

When Erica Levine was seven and a half
Up to her door came Jason Metcalfe
And he said "Will you marry me, Erica Levine?"
And Erica Levine said "What do you mean?"
"Well my father and my mother say a fellow ought to marry
And my father said his brother, who is my Uncle Larry
Never married and he said Uncle Larry is a dope---
So will you marry me?" Said Erica,"Nope."
"My piano teacher's smart, and she never had to marry
And your father may be right about your Uncle Larry,
But not being married isn't what made him a dope.
Don't ask me again, 'cause my answer's 'Nope'."

When Erica Levine was seventeen
She went to a dance with Joel Bernstein,
And they danced by the light of a sparkling bobby sock,
'Cause the theme of the prom was the history of Rock.
And after the prom, Joel kissed her at the door,
And he said "Do you know what that kiss was for?"
And she said "I don't know, but you kiss just fine."
And he said "What it means is that you are mine."
And she said "No, I'm not!", and she rushed inside
And on the way home, Joel Bernstein cried
And she cried, too, and wrote a letter to 'Ms.',
Saying"This much I know: I am mine, not his."

When Erica Levine was twenty-three
Her lover said "Erica, marry me.
This relationship is answering a basic need
And I'd like to have it legally guaranteed.
For without your precious love I would surely die
So why can't we make it legal?" Said Erica, "Why?
Basic needs, at your age, should be met by you;
I'm your lover, not your mother---let's be careful what we do.
If I should ever marry,I will marry to grow,
Not for tradition, or possession or protection. No!
I love you, but your needs are a very different issue."
Then He cried, and Erica handed him a tissue.

When Erica was thirty, she was talking with Lou,
Discussing and deciding what they wanted to do.
"When we marry, should we move into your place or mine?
Yours is rent-controlled, but mine is on the green line."
And they argued and they talked, and they finally didn't care
And they joined a small cooperative near Central Square.
And their wedding was a simple one, they wanted it that way.
And they thought a lot about the the things that they would
choose to say.
"I will live with you and love you, but I'll never call you mine."
Then the judge pronounced them married, and everyone had wine.
And a happy-ever-after life is not the kind they got,
But they tended to be happy more often than not.

Dear Gail, Love Gail

Julia, Keiko, Camille, Jane, Elaine, Beth, Heidi and Al - this is for you.

Here's a shocking fact - I've been part of a google group for people who graduated Bryn Mawr and Haverford in 1982, and it's been one of the best parts of this year. I know some of the people in the group - I remember them and their names - and many I do not. They are by and large people who I think enjoyed our college years. They are people who wanted to stay in touch. They are people I mostly would not have talked to in college, or people my friends and I laughed at. And guess what? They are smart, funny, incredibly talented and successful and best of all, they're all about turning 50, like me. We've had some great discussions - about lesbian moms, about aging parents, about being old parents, about health care, about many things I care about.

Now there's a photo of me from shortly after college years, it's a photo of a bunch of us actually, me and a group of college friends in 1985, and it's on facebook, and recently a friend from those days wrote - "the photo that should be burned!" and others made similar remarks and I feel sad.

Because one of the great gifts of my life has been the way G-d has given me opportunities to revisit every part of my growth with love and tenderness. That's what the google group has done for me this year. The folks on the google group are likely folks who were always way better adjusted than myself.

Because here's the truth about my college years - I went to college at 16 and a half years old. I was addicted to drugs and alcohol. I was way too young to be on my own and I was scared. I was affected by buried childhood trauma that has followed me all my life. I was a self-centered person and careless in the way I treated others. I did things I'm not proud of, things that damaged myself and others. I cared deeply about my friends but I chose my friends based on a set of values I no longer hold. I was very bright but very stupid. My mother worried I would not see my 20th birthday. I'm lucky I survived and in honesty I owe a great debt - to my friends from those years (I love you all) to the college that despite a not-so-benign neglect offered some kind of safe container for my acting out, to my teachers who connected with me, to my family who never gave up on me and to G-d who saw me through.

One of my favorite writings is an essay in a book called "To Weep and To Sing", a collection by women scholars of religion about their lives. The essay, "Dear Chris, Love Christine", is a woman writing, with great love, to her younger self of 20 plus years ago. I am so grateful to be able to look back with love and compassion at all we were, and so grateful for the journey that has taken me far from there. I don't want to burn the picture. Today, I can put it on my wall with love.

Internalized racism and other musings

I had an intense experience at a checkpoint today. This is the checkpoint before the tunnels on Route 60 when you are coming into Jerusalem from Gush Etzion. Those of you who know me know that although I live within the green line, I live right next to it, and travel every day through the west bank to get to work in Jerusalem. I drive through this checkpoint every day - I should say breeze through this checkpoint - an experience of privilege I am almost always conscious of. I pay almost no attention to the automatic weapons (machine guns) on pretty much every soldier. The soldiers often seem to me like kids, especially the young women.

The far right lane is like the will be checked lane and in the next lane over they can also pull you aside to a bay. The left lane has not been open much lately.

I have known (from a hitchhiker I picked up once who explained this to me) that the people who work at the checkpoint fall into three categories - army, police and security staff hired by a private company. I don't know why this is or what the various tasks are.

Today, in the far right lane, there were three extra people with guns, I think only one of them in uniform, not right at the checkpoint but closer to where the cars come in, like walking toward the cars. They were holding their guns differently, but in addition, two of them were black. All of a sudden when I saw them, I felt very fearful. I think this was my own internalized racism at work - I think that I should be afraid of black people, and the fact they were holding guns made it more so. When I see Ethiopian soldiers, the Israeli army uniform puts me at ease. These men did not seem to be Ethiopian but I think also the visual cue to me was that they were not wearing uniforms.

This gave me a glimpse of what Arabs going through this checkpoint probably feel. It was a horrible feeling to feel so fearful, and also to recognize my own racism generating the fear, and to once again recognize the privilege I have of traveling most days without fear through this checkpoint.

Today we marked the 5th anniversary of the "hitnatkut" - the pullout from Gaza. Five years in which the left has declined and the right increased, so that on the radio yesterday I heard one commentator say that the right has succeeded in convincing the country that the pullout from Gaza was a mistake. A pro-pullout woman and a woman settler were on the radio and the former said she is less optimistic than she was 5 years ago while the latter said she feels good about how the country is going. She said the country is getting closer to Judaism. That would appear to be backed up by the statistic I heard yesterday - 52% of first graders in the country are in Orthodox or Ultra-Orthodox schools.

We have wonderful students at my work this summer, Alen is hosting a GLBT birthright group at her work tomorrow!, and Gabi has loved her camp that ends tomorrow at the nature museum. I'm looking forward to another afternoon at the nursing home and to a relaxing Shabbat. We had the first Tisha B'Av program that our Reform congregation has held this week and a packed house at the Conservative Yeshiva as usual. The conversion bill brings a lot of concern to our home and work. A sense of privilege and awe along with frustration and sometimes a fear or despair stay with me when I look at all this. The big picture just gets bigger.