Here and There: Leaving Hasidism, Keeping My Family

by Chaya Deitsch

A heartfelt and inspiring personal account of a woman raised as a Lubavitcher Hasid who leaves that world without leaving the family that remains within it.
 
Even as a child, Chaya Deitsch felt that she didn’t belong in the Hasidic world into which she’d been born. She spent her teenage years outwardly conforming to but secretly rebelling against the rules that tell you what and when to eat, how to dress, whom you can befriend, and what you must believe. Loving her parents, grandparents, and extended family, Chaya struggled to fit in but instead felt angry, stifled, and frustrated. Upon receiving permission from her bewildered but supportive parents to attend Barnard College, she discovered a wider world in which she could establish an independent identity and fulfill her dream of a life unconfined by the strictures imposed upon her by a belief system that she had never bought into, a life that would be filled with the secular knowledge and culture that were anathema to her friends and relatives in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. As she gradually shed the physical and spiritual trappings of Hasidic life—the long skirts and long-sleeved blouses, the rules of kashrus, the meticulous observance of the Sabbath and the Jewish holidays—Chaya found herself torn between her desire to be honest with her parents about who she now was and her need to maintain loving relationships with the family that she still very much wanted to be part of.
 
As she navigated the complexities of her new life, Chaya and her parents eventually came to an understanding that was based on unqualified love and a hard-won but fragile form of acceptance. With honesty, sensitivity, and intelligence, Chaya Deitsch movingly shows us that lives lived differently do not have to be lives lived apart.

Genres: Memoir, Religion, Jewish, Nonfiction, Judaism, Biography Memoir

224 pages, Hardcover

First published October 13, 2015

Reviews

[Evanston Public Library]

On the somewhat Byzantine continuum of Jewish observance, the Hasids (or Chasidim) fall at the weightier end. They are ultra-Orthodox, tend to be insular, and to those unfamiliar with them, may be mistaken for Amish (at least as far as the men go). Within the Hasid community itself there are sects, each following a particular Rabbi's (or Rebbe's) take on things. The Lubavitchers are a less insular in that they reach out to less religious or unaffiliated Jews to proselytize a return to stricter observance. They are the ones who run the Chabad Houses on campuses and put up the Hanukkah menorahs in city squares or build sukkahs where Jewish workers in the city center can eat lunch during that autumn holiday. Almost from early childhood, Chaya was skeptical of her parents' adoration of their Rebbe. She didn't feel in her bones that God's wrath would descend if a married woman uncovered her hair or wore pants. But as a member of a warm and indulgent extended family, she was pretty happy to go along without any fuss until her teen years.

Yearning to experience the larger world, she convinced her folks that marriage (semi-arranged, of course) could wait and that Barnard (all women at that time) would suit her well. They allowed it and she thrived in that environment. Little by little her Jewish observance fell by the wayside, and her relationship with her parents became one of neutral conversations, vague descriptions of "what I did this weekend," and in the end a litany of secrets. This dance of deception continued into her thirties until she faced them with the truth. Chaya Deitsch's memoir of growing up in and then growing away from her Lubavitcher family is a nice change from the harrowing tales of other children in such situations whose lives seemed filled with emotional abuse or worse, and whose families mourned them as dead when they left the fold. In this one they are still a strongly connected family which speaks to the power of love and understanding.
(Barbara L., Reader's Services)

[Nancy Kennedy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Chaya Deitsch was born into a devout family of the Hasidic Lubavitcher sect. While they lived in Connecticut, her family had deep roots in Brooklyn's Crown Heights neighborhood, the epicenter of the Lubavitcher community. Ms. Deitsch grew up conflicted -- deeply attached to her loving family and comforted by its traditions, yet realizing from the first that she didn't want this life for her adult self. "From early on, I was headed in another direction, but I still needed my family," she writes.

Ms. Deitsch excelled at school, and though expected to quit after high school, she went on to a year at a girl's Jewish seminary in England and then to Barnard. That hardly sounds like the path of a rebel, yet in her family, it was a shocking departure from the narrowly proscribed life of a Lubavitcher woman, who was expected only to marry young, produce children and stay obediently in the background of her faith and family.

I grew up in a Brethren church and family and understand all too well how Ms. Deitsch's every desire and every infraction of the community's rules caused roiling waves of inner torment. While many readers won't appreciate Ms. Deitsch's level of discomfort with the simple contrary act of wearing pants or a short-sleeved shirt, or listening to rock music, or going out with friends on a religious holiday instead of to services, I understand it all too well. You feel you need to hide facets of your existence, to lie about your life and deny your very self in order to retain the approval of your family. Yet, little by little, Ms. Deitsch discards the traditions of her youth until she is no longer "frum," or an observant Orthodox Jew.

I cheered for Ms. Deitsch when in her adulthood she finally tells the whole truth to her parents as she hands them the manuscript of this book to read over. "Completing this book at long last forced me to make an honest woman of myself," she writes, with evident relief. She is fortunate that her family took her confession as well as it did and that she has been able to forge a loving, adult relationship with her parents despite their differences.

In writing this book, Ms. Deitsch has courageously forged a way for others who desire a wider and more complex life than the one they were born into. Her yearnings for both family and authentic self reminded me of Garrison Keillor, who outwardly left the Plymouth Brethren life, yet whose soul remains firmly rooted in its comforting traditions. "I wanted to live a big complicated life and not sit in a closet," he writes in the essay, "Sunday Morning Coming Down." Yet, to this day, he writes achingly of the beauty of ancient hymns sung in four-part harmony. You might also like Blush: A Mennonite Girl Meets a Glittering World by Shirley Showalter, I Am Hutterite: The Fascinating True Story of a Young Woman's Journey to Reclaim Her Heritage]] by Mary-Ann Kirkby, Born Again and Again: Surprising Gifts of a Fundamentalist Childhood by Jon Sweeney, or My Fundamentalist Education: A Memoir of a Divine Girlhood, by Christine Rosen.

[Max · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thankfully this is not a memoir where things go terribly wrong, and awful things happen, and families are torn apart. This is a very introspective memoir about the author's struggle, through her childhood, to come to terms with her love of family, and dislike/apathy of the religion she was brought up in.

Deitsch is a great writer - easily able to bring you into her contradictory feelings and life. She managed to artfully articulate the spiritual confusion she found herself in. While at the same time doing a wonderful job of describing her surroundings, the people around her, and the spirituality of her specific bent of Lubavitch in the 1970's and 80's.

I will say that if you come to this book without any knowledge of Jewish life, Judaism, or Chasidism you may be slightly confused - there is a great deal of assumed knowledge here. Footnotes, or a dictionary for the Hebrew and Yiddish words would have been helpful. Overall though - I enjoyed this memoir, and I connected with Chaya and her struggles to try and find a balance between family and tradition.

[Idelle Kursman · Rating 4 out of 5]

I appreciated the author's writing and could understand the author's hesitancy about marrying young and having a large family. However, when I read about her childhood, I had trouble relating to her discontent because she came from a loving, supportive family, had friends and traveled to lots of exciting places, and graduated from an Ivy League school. There was no hardship, only a difference of religious beliefs from her family. I like the way the author remained respectful of her religious roots while deciding to live a secular life.

[Marika · Rating 5 out of 5]

A young Hasidic girl manages to leave what she feels is suffocating her...her Lubavitcher family. Unusual in that her family does not reject her, in fact they continue to embrace her in love. Similar to "Mennonite in a Little Black Dress" by Rhoda Janzen and "Unorthodox" by Deborah Feldman who both wrote about leaving the religion of their birth yet maintain relationships with their loved ones. Genre-busting in that it might be the first I-used-to-be-an-Orthodox-Jew memoir that isn’t filled with dysfunction and recrimination.

[Sara · Rating 3 out of 5]

Honestly seemed like trying to cash in on the recent vibes around Unorthodox or something. There just isn't much story here. Middle class kid grows up, becomes slightly different than parents. Not much happens - feels like the Chassidic voyeurism angle was exploited, otherwise this wouldn't have even been a story. Everyone grows up and becomes a little different than their parents, to their chagrin. This is probably the most common path out of the frum world. It's just not that interesting.

[Dan Stern · Rating 4 out of 5]

I finally received my advance copy of Here and There on Friday and stayed up reading all through the night- this book is THAT riveting! I found myself weeping quietly at three different intervals in the book and then found myself rereading the entire book Saturday afternoon.

Chaya's memoir reads more like a 'coming of age' novel rather than a heart-wrenching memoir. IF you are looking for a memoir about a bitter middle-aged woman with a tortured soul who leaves her religion and never looks back- THIS book is NOT for you. Here and There is reminiscent of the classic coming of age story; A tree Grows in Brooklyn rather than the spite-filled: Unorthodox: The Scandalous Rejection of my Chassidic Roots.

Chaya is a brilliant writer and has written so eloquently about her musings from her childhood. She is a a keen observer of life around her and her thoughts are often witty and funny as she observes the behavior of her mother's sisters and their lives, her siblings, and her mother and father's relationships with one another. One of my favorite lines in the book is a perfect example of her eloquent writing style:

“In my lonely shame and confusion, these desires felt more disgraceful than the most heinous sin I could cobble together: eating a ham-and-cheese-sandwich on Yom Kippur, naked, in front of the Rebbe’s picture.”

Please be advised there is no torturous drama in this charming book. Chaya was not the victim of incest, molestation or childhood neglect. She was raised in a loving family by two parents who appreciated and respected their daughter for the unique and beautiful person she is. If you are searching for a brave, heartwarming, well-written account of a challenging transition in life than this book is for YOU!

[jj · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed reading this biographical story of Chaya Deitsch. I learned quite a bit. I always thought the Lubavitchers were very religious, orthodox, observant Jews- wanting others to be like them. I have been inside their roving trucks or makeshift buildings, but are still not a believer. I understand how Ms. Deitsch wanted to get away and learn who she personally was. Born into a religious family(cult?) but who’s family moved away from the area most lived in by their people, she was not part of the community. This in itself could bring interest to other things. As females, we are not “taught” about the religion but are more outsiders of it as we are to “sit” upstairs and observe- not even participate. That is one of the reasons why Ms. Deitsch decided to leave(my opinion)

[Becky Levi-cohen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Just a memoir

Ok, nothing earth shattering, but well-written and easy to follow. And her authentic story! would have liked more on the why's and wherefore that are involved in ranking the separate sects of Judaism.

[Dori Jaffe · Rating 5 out of 5]

Well written, very interesting. Her experiences were different from, e.g. Unorthodox, as she was able to keep connected to her family.

[Sercohen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Memoir of a girl who grew up in New Haven, in a Lubavitcher family, never felt comfortable with it, but didn't want to lose her family. Great references to life in New Haven.

[Miriam · Rating 2 out of 5]

Either the author held back too much or she simply doesn't have a story to tell. Boring. A slog to get through (as someone who grew up in and also left the same community, I was hoping for more).

[Cheryl · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not much of a story - no tension, no arc. The authors parents, while belonging to a strict Hasidic sect, are incredibly liberal for Hasidim. The author rebelled and didn’t lose her family’s love. There you have it.

[Hallie Cantor · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is another in the series of ex-Orthodox narratives, and offers another perspective --that of a woman with a feminist bent, a woman who resented the bland and passive female role within her circles. Here she differs from Shulem Deen, who left because he intellectually questioned Judaism, or Leah Vincent, who just seemed a mess. Ms. Deitsch apparently had had a happy childhood and descended from prominent Lubavitcher families. Probably the two major problems were the lack of cohesive Chassidic community, as she grew up "out of town" -- New Haven, CT, as opposed to Crown Heights, Brooklyn, the headquarters of the Lubavitcher Rebbe; and the lack of strong Jewish education, as the schools she attended were "watered-down." Moreover, she was heavily exposed to secular studies and culture; one of her greatest influences was a high school drama teacher, a secular Jew who got her hooked on the outside world.

This is inadvertently a cautionary tale on many levels: a clearly talented and probably brilliant woman who was sent mixed messages. Her family was lax on secular entertainment and certain dietary laws. Although expected to marry into the highest circles, she really was not groomed properly. However, even had she lived in Crown Heights, she might have been "too smart" for the community, as the level education for women may not have addressed her needs. This is a problem for gifted women, a problem I see growing in the ultra-Orthodox community, which still tends to offer rote and simplistic curricula & views women as overgrown children. The seminary at Gateshead, with its austere environment, was even a worse fit for Ms. Deitsch. (Might Breuer's have been better? I've met some very learned women there, who were also very Western & sophisticated.)

As a Lubavitcher, and a ba'alas teshuva who rejected the academic world she fervently embraced, I might be biased toward her life decisions, and I wonder what drives people to leave Orthodoxy (besides mental illness, which this author clearly does not suffer). However, like Devorah Feldman, whose memoir UNORTHODOX I found repugnant, Ms. Deitsch seemed cynical and religiously alienated from the start. She describes herself as someone who in her childhood basically went through the motions, envying and trying to connect with the Modern Orthodox crowd but finding them cliquish. The societal pressure on Chassidic girls to get married young and have large families clearly did not jibe with her.

The book basically ends with her as a Barnard/Columbia student embracing a secular lifestyle, although there is a huge 30-year gap. Now in her 50s, she leaves out everything since then -- probably implying that her transition to secularity was pretty much linear. Initially shy and naïve around men, she mentions later having boyfriends, although she has officially remained single. Her lack of marital status creates a bigger wedge in the highly marriage-oriented Orthodox world and she is often uncomfortable visiting Crown Heights. Nevertheless, she manages to maintain certain ties to her extensive family, albeit having to lie about how and where she spends "Saturdays." She sees her straddling of two worlds as a sort of victory, an acceptance of her lifestyle, although my guess is that deep down, her parents are still hoping she might return.

I give this book 3 stars, perhaps because of my own prejudice. Although the writing is excellent -- her descriptions of her childhood vivid and graceful -- the ending is less developed. How do the rest of her family feel? Are there other drop-outs (besides her sister) with whom she has contact? It left me sad about someone lost to the outside world, yet raises some issues which hopefully might be addressed in the future.

[Shirlee Sloyer · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars. Adequately written, this memoir of a Hasidic Lubavitcher girl, was an enjoyable trip through familiar territory. ( Not that I knew all that much about the Lubavitchers, which, incidentally, I was happy to learn.) I identified with Chaya as she struggled to find her way out of smothering rituals and obligations. I got to know her and understood her guilt and frustration.

[Cyndi · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not what I was hoping for. No heartfelt tale about someone forced to choose between her true self and her family. Deitsch wasn't rejected by her family, not even after she left the religion. Any reason to leave is good enough but hers wasn't particularly interesting to read about: she just wasn't into it.

So I hoped for a really good look into Chasidism, what it was like to live in that community. As a Liberal Jew, I have a strong sense of my religion overall, and a pretty decent idea of what the Modern Orthodox world is like, but not much about present-day Chasidism. Deitsch partially delivers here. She discusses her childhood and young adulthood at length and you get a pretty good idea of how life was for her family at least.

I just wanted more than a personal memoir, which is what this is.

[Nancy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read the book because the author's sister was a high school classmate of mine, and it was fun reading about familiar people and places from my high school days.

There are a lot of books about people who have left the religious worlds of their families, but so many of them are 'exposes' - showing the negative side of religious communities, as something to mocked; where those who leave are disowned by their families and shunned by their communities. There was none of that here. While not sharing her family's beliefs and devotion to Lubavitch hasidism, the author loves her parents, and wants their approval, even as she moves further away from their world. And while they clearly are not happy with the choices she makes, they allow her the room to make them.

[Gwen · Rating 3 out of 5]

This memoir, which is much more about growing up Hasidic (Lubavitch) than about the myriad reasons to leave, was a good read. An odd book to read during Passover, perhaps, but definite food for thought. To Deitsch's credit, she writes well, and she shows us the seeds of dissatisfaction/questioning early. It is also refreshing to read about Judaism, and orthodoxy, not within the space of New York City -- there are many people who wrestle with religious questions of all stripes who don't live in major metropolitan areas. As Deitsch notes, she was an outsider by location but perhaps an insider by pedigree. The weight of familial obligation can be heavy, but she seems to navigate it well.

[BMR, LCSW · Rating 3 out of 5]

I won this last year in a Goodreads Giveaway. I finally got around to reading it during a lull in borrowing library books.

This was an interesting story. Would have been more interesting with photographs of the important players in Chaya's life. Also, the author doesn't "leave" Hasidism so much as simply distance herself, at times hiding from it, from my perspective. I knew little to nothing about Hasidism or Lubavitchers before getting this book. Now, I know a little more.

For those interested in religious history, faith journeys, or learning about cultures unfamiliar to yours.

[Kathleen · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really liked this memoir. Chaya put her struggle to find her place within her family without accepting the strictness of their religion in perspective by taking you through her life as she wrestled with her choices. As a Catholic, first by birth and later by choice, it intrigued me. I had no idea about all of the rules this particular branch had to follow. Makes my no meat Fridays during Lent seem like the "no big deal" that they are. Thanks for a good read. (I received this in a goodreads giveaway.)

[Barbara · Rating 4 out of 5]

Privileged as I was to have heard Chaya Deitsch read from her memoir at Brookline Booksmith last week, I knew that I would find warmth, integrity, humor, and intelligence in every page of Here and There, and indeed, this was so. The dawning of her consciousness about leading a secular life came slowly, over time, and she managed to find the way towards an authentic identity while respecting and loving her family. So, then: miracles can happen!

[Judi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Good read and good lesson

I think I've read all the popular books on leaving Hasidism, and most border on the sensational aspects, which made for captivating reads. However, this book also captivated me for its more gentle spirit. I liked reading that you can leave that world and still have respect for those you leave in it and self respect at your choices. Good job, Chaya. I learned a lot about choices I made and how to better accept them. Thank you.

[Ann · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read an earlier book this year - a fictional book about Hasidism and saw this book on the new book shelf at the library and decided to read it. I learned a great deal about this ultra conservative sect of Judaism and I am glad that I read this author's account of her life growing up in this sect and her leaving this sect but maintaining her family ties. I have a much better picture of this sect and its rules and regulations.

[Shana · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have mixed feelings about this book-on the one hand it's written pretty well and is an easy read, but then again, I didn't feel like I got much out of the book. The saddest thing about these books is how easy it seems to drop religion. Yet it's not suprising-if the reason given for not doing things is that the community will disapprove, religion doesn't really have a chance once you don't care about the community. Yes another memoir for the OTD book train...

[Lydia · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was curious about the details of daily life in the Hasidic community and this book did not disappoint. It was also interesting to trace Chaya's disillusionments with her religion and see where they took her. But I was left wondering what made Chaya Deitsch choose a different life for herself. And why her path? These may be rhetorical questions so I can't criticize the book for not answering them.

[Giddy · Rating 3 out of 5]

not much on how she kept her family -there isnt a lot of detail there, and not much really about her faith. I am sure this was all easier er since she didint live in Williamsburg, and had a very liberal family.

[Anneke Alnatour · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very readable memoir, which deals with a community of which I know next to nothing. Still, knowing a bit about orthodox Christian communities, made me feel I can relate, and understand part of the struggle the author is going through, and went through.

[Barbara Pearlman · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved this book. The author did a beautiful job of describing the pressures she felt as a child and an adult in conforming to the expectations of Chasidism. A great insight into a problem of many people born into religious fundamentalist families.

[Ari · Rating 3 out of 5]

Memoir. Good writing, not great. Lots of warmth and self-awareness. Worth reading for: folks interested in Hasidism, college students, anyone who recognises the importance of keeping family close in spite of major lifestyle differences.

[Margaret Heller · Rating 4 out of 5]

Read for Library Journal.