a real jew

I'm sorry I was born a Jew, but only because I wish I had the privilege of choosing Judaism on my own.
--Louis Brandeis

In March, I completed my conversion studies through a conservative shul. Overall, the class was something of a disappointment, mostly because of the difference between me and the other students in the class -- the majority whom were studying in anticipation of an upcoming wedding or birth. So the course was basically Judaism 101, and I didn't have any of those moments that profoundly shift the way I organize the world -- like the ones that led me to take the class in the first place. Ironically, the thing that officially qualified me as a Jew didn't really make me feel at all like one.

But this experience did: A few weeks ago I went to watch the Nationals play the Tigers with the group of Jews with whom I share season tickets at RFK. (We exchanged several games' worth of the unused two tickets for a bunch of tickets to one game, so we could all go together.) As I chatted with the friend of one of my friends, we started to compare notes about Chapel Hill -- where she is moving, two towns over from where I used to live. We discovered that on her last visit she had met UNC Hillel's volunteer graduate student coordinators, who happen to be my friends. That's right -- I actually got to play a game of Jewish geography, which heretofore I have only been able to observe.

I'm so verklempt.