Crossing from the world of Orthodoxy to the secular one is not an easy task, but organizations like Hillel, try to make it less difficult for those who take the leap.
By JOY BERNARDOrthodox Jews(photo credit: REUTERS)
Every year, about a thousand haredi men and women in Israel choose to leave the only life they have known for a secular lifestyle – an utterly new and foreign existence.These men and women often lack basic education, work experience and financial support. Their families, spouses, children and friends seldom support their decision.In fact, they often view them as immoral “traitors” who have turned their backs on the only worthy and valuable course of life. They are forced to leave the segregated, religious communities they were raised in with few to no resources.Where do they go next? Who can they possibly turn to? These men and women, referred to in Hebrew as yotzim beshe’ela (those who leave with a question), often struggle to receive the support they urgently require.Without that aid, it is difficult for them to make the radical and terrifying transition from ultra-Orthodox practitioners of Judaism to members of secular society.Several organizations in Israel offer assistance to people who find themselves in these situations. Hillel – The Right to Choose is one of the oldest. The non-profit organization has been helping yotzim for 25 years to integrate into the wider society in Israel.On a recent rainy Thursday evening, dozens flocked to a gathering at the Eretz Israel Museum in Tel Aviv to mark 25 years of Hillel activity and thank the organization that helped change their lives.With funding from private donations and help from the government, Hillel serves roughly 860 yotzim aged 18 to 35 a year. The organization’s two main branches are in Jerusalem and in Tel Aviv; a third will open soon in Haifa.Pressing needs Sometimes the most pressing need for yotzim is a bed to sleep in and a safe place to turn to where they can feel at home. Hillel offers them free transitional housing and housing subsidies. In addition, it runs an emergency facility staffed by professionals that provides shelter to 100 people at risk a year.
Hillel CEO Yair Hass says, “The shelter provides initial response to homeless yotzim. People can call us and immediately a spot opens for them. This is done in collaboration with the Social Affairs Ministry.”Another need is therapeutic support.Most yotzim describe the process of integration into the wider society in Israel as a grueling, alienating and confusing mental experience.They grieve the loss of everything they cherished and knew, miss the families who choose to cut off all contact with them, and feel inadequate in the face of a world whose culture, habits and logic they were never exposed to.About 100 psychotherapists regularly volunteer at Hillel. Each volunteer is matched with a yotze, providing oneon- one psychotherapy. Hillel also offers group counseling.Tirtza Michaelson, a trained psychotherapist, serves as Hillel’s mental health coordinator. She explains that treating yotzim is different from regular psychotherapy.“Many yotzim see the therapist as some sort of supplement to their rabbi.In their past lives their rabbi used to tell them what to do and how to act; now they expect the therapist to take on that role. That creates an interesting discussion, because the end goal is for them to integrate into the secular world and not to exchange their rabbi for another authoritative figure.“When patients expect me to tell them how to live their lives, I raise questions such as, “What does leaving religion really mean to you? What does being secular mean to you?” It turns out that many of them have no clue what being secular is and they’re looking for the rules of the secular world. It’s really hard for them not to live by rules, not to have that ‘what’s wrong and what’s right’ guidebook for living,” she adds.Another challenging topic raised in counseling is romantic relations.“Relationships come up in therapy all the time, and that’s a sore spot. How do I look for a partner when it’s no longer through a shadchan [matchmaker]? I explain to them that there are no clear rules to the subject, that it’s their free choice.“And then they raise another question: ‘What’s free choice?’ What do I do with that? The whole dating world is alien to them.”Michaelson deems therapy successful when the yotzim can define what matters most to them, what kind of job to pursue, and when they find a relationship and employment.“To me, the greatest success is if I can help a patient re-forge some connection with his or her biological family,” she emphasizes.Where to now?The majority of the yotzim join the secular world with no academic background whatsoever because haredi communities provide only Torah and Gemara studies.Zivit Hauser is an English lecturer at the Levinsky College of Education in Tel Aviv who has been volunteering at Hillel for the past 13 years to help yotzim catch up more quickly. She started as an English teacher at the Tel Aviv branch and went on to become the branch’s head coordinator, a position she quit recently.“One of the students at my English class asked me to be his mentor after two months of learning with me. He would come to my house for private English lessons. I’ve been seeing him every week for 12 years now. He’s become part of my family,” she says. “He comes to our birthday parties, to holiday celebrations and Friday meals. My children feel like he is another sibling, they treat him as a brother.”Two-way pathTwo very special guests attending the 25th anniversary celebrations were Hillel’s founders, husband and wife Tami and Miki Cohen.The pair, who define themselves as secular and have devoted decades of their lives to volunteer work in different sectors of Israeli society, recognized the need for an organization such as Hillel through their son. Years ago, he left his secular life to become religious.“When we started with Hillel, people didn’t understand what we were fighting for. They thought we were against religion and didn’t realize we were just trying to provide a response that the government didn’t offer to ex-Orthodox Israelis who were really helpless,” Tami recollects.“There was so much opposition to our work that we had to work underground, discreetly. We couldn’t even hand out our telephone number for fear of being harassed by extremist opponents.”“It’s moving to look around the room and see how much the organization has grown,” Miki remarks.“One of the most significant changes Hillel has undergone, says Hass, “is the fact that we no longer have to hide.We proclaim loud and clear that we are here to stay. The number of people who use our services increases every year by 30%. Now our challenge is to convince other organizations and the government to help us more, to make it a team effort.”