At another session at the Yarnton Manor Conference on Modern Orthodoxy the topic was the sociology of the Orthodox community. The speakers were Daniel Sperber: “Tradition, Continuity and Innovation: Opposing Halakhic Concerns” Sarah Benor, “Frum Unity, Frum Diversity: The Orthodox Continuum in Popular Culture.”Samuel Heilman, “Old and New Orthodoxies”and Chaim I Waxman – Respondent. The presentation by Sarah Benor was novel and engaging. For those who just missed her at Limmud-NY, then catch her talk at Princeton University this Wednesday. (This blog has a sizable Princeton readership who should attend.)

Sarah Bunin Benor is an Associate Professor of Contemporary Jewish Studies at Hebrew Union College – Jewish Institute of Religion (Los Angeles campus) and Adjunct Associate Professor in the Linguistics Department at the University of Southern California. She received her Ph.D. from Stanford University in Linguistics in 2004. She teaches about the social science of American Jews, as well as about language and culture. In addition to the book Becoming Frum, she has published many academic papers and given lectures around the country about Jewish languages, linguistics, Yiddish, and American Jews. Dr. Benor edits the Journal of Jewish Languages and the Jewish Language Research Website, both of which she founded.

She is almost single-handedly (re)creating a field of Jewish Linguistics.

She has a website of Jewish-English keeping track of Yinglish, Hebrish, and other distinctive ways Jews speak English.

The goals of the Jewish English Lexicon (JEL) are to collect data on the English of Jews in America and elsewhere and to make it available to the general public. JEL is a collaborative database of distinctive words that are used in the speech or writing of English-speaking Jews. Think of it as the Wikipedia or Urban Dictionary of Jewish language.

She wrote a seminal paper on the language of American Jews as a Jewish language and concludes:

Yes, American Jews do speak a Jewish language comparable to Judeo-Persian, JudeoArabic, Judeo-Greek, and many other Diaspora languages.

When we analyze the distinctive repertoire available to American Jews, we ﬁnd that it does have most of the components common among other Jewish languages. It has a non-Jewish coterritorial base language (English), a Hebrew/Aramaic component, inﬂuences from a previous Jewish language (Yiddish), displaced dialectalism, other distinctive features not linked to previous languages, avoidance of non-Jewish religious features, and a recognition that Jews use distinctive language. In addition to these similarities, we also ﬁnd important differences. Jewish American English is written in the same alphabet as general American English (albeit with occasional remnants of Hebrew orthography), rendering it more accessible to non-Jews than any language written in the Jewish alphabet.

American Jews are generally able to speak an English indistinguishable from that of nonJews—even to pass as non-Jews, if they so choose—leaving American Jews much less vulnerable to linguistic ridicule than some Jews of the past.

Prof Benor’s recent book is Becoming Frum: How Newcomers Learn the Language and Culture of Orthodox Judaism (Go read it!)

The book has a website and here are some excerpts:

“One of the few times I heard Milldale Orthodox Jews listening to non-Orthodox music was in the Kramers’ van on the way to New York for a wed­ding. The Kramer parents both became BTs in their twenties, and their teenage children have grown up as FFBs. For part of the trip, they listened to an Orthodox band. When the tape ended, they turned on the radio, which was set to a classic rock station. When “American Pie” started, the children got excited. They sang along for the chorus and some of the verses. But just as the singer was about to say, “The three men I admire most, the Father, Son and the Holy Ghost,” the mother turned the volume all the way down. One of the sons asked why, and she answered, “It’s words you don’t want stuck in your head.” The older daughter said, “Probably something about Yoshke” (the Yid­dish diminutive form of Jesus and the name I generally heard applied to him in Orthodox communities). After “American Pie” was over, the mother put in another Orthodox tape, which happened to start with “Ani ma’amin,” a Hebrew song stating a “full belief” that the Moshiach (Messiah) will come. I couldn’t help but smile about the ironic contrast.” (p. 74)

“For many BTs, feeling or being called inauthentic does not stop them from participating in Orthodox practices. When Mark was a Peripheral BT, he told me that he felt he was not acting like himself when he used chanting intonation or wore a black hat. But he sometimes adopted these behaviors anyway, because, he said, “it’s fun.” So when he was planning his wedding, he told friends and family that it would be “black hat optional, and I’m opting in.” Although put­ting on this “costume” did not seem authentic to him, it was an enjoyable way of connecting with the community. As Ira, an advisor at a BT yeshiva, says, “To a large part, everyone’s putting on a costume in [a BT] yeshiva.” This self-consciousness tends to be only temporary; BTs who continue to participate in a cultural practice eventually feel it is an authentic part of who they have become.” (p. 178)

She has a fascinating article on the language of non-Orthodox Jewish elites, the super-Jews, showing their language as distinct from ordinary Jews.

I argue that the major factor in the distinctive linguistic profile of non-Orthodox Jewish elites is their interaction with others like them. Anyone who attends synagogue more than monthly, has spent significant time in Israel, and/or reports that most of their close friends are engaged in Jewish life (the three criteria we used to define super Jews) likely has regular conversations with others like them. In addition, almost half of young super Jews in the sample refrain from handling money on Shabbat, which suggests that they may also host and/or attend Shabbat meals regularly. We know from studies around the world that people who talk to each other on a regular basis often converge linguistically…Participating in Jewish religious and communal life offers Jews ample opportunity to converse with others like them and to learn and spread Hebrew and Yiddish words. Read the rest here.

And she has an article on how the language of Reform sisterhoods changed . “From Sabbath to Shabbat: Changing Language of Reform Sisterhood Leaders, 1913-2012.” In Women of Reform Judaism / National Federation of Temple Sisterhoods Centenary Volume

1) What was it like for you as a non-Orthodox Jew doing research in an Orthodox community? Is there anything you want to convey to the Orthodox community?

It was a great experience. I am a religiously engaged non-Orthodox

Jew, and I came to my research with a good deal of knowledge about

halacha, tefillah, brachot, and chagim. I also came in with

proficiency in Hebrew and Yiddish. In that sense, I had an easier time

making sense of Orthodox culture and fitting in than some new BTs and

gerim (converts) who come from secular or non-Jewish backgrounds. On the other hand, my experiences also mirrored those of a new BT in many ways, as

we both encountered new traditions, Ashkenazi pronunciations,

different gender distinctions, and a community that’s much more tight

knit than our own. One major difference between my experiences and

those of BTs: I knew that my participation in Orthodoxy was just

temporary, and they expect that theirs will be long-term. Some of the

people I met during my research expected that I would become frum

myself, and a few were disappointed that I didn’t. I hope that

Orthodox Jews will read my book, even though it’s written by a

non-Orthodox Jew. I hope they’ll see in my writing my deep respect for

Orthodox communities and culture. And I hope they’ll invite me to give

talks at their shuls and kiruv centers.

2) What is your method of sociolinguistics? And how does it produce different results than other sociological methods?

My main method is ethnography: hanging out with people, visiting their

homes, attending their lifecycle events, going to shul and school with

them, and going out to restaurants with them. I observe their

interactions, I talk to them informally, and I also do formal

interviews. Throughout this process, I write detailed notes about what

I observed and heard, and I analyze those notes regularly, leading to

more questions I can ask and hypotheses I can test. This is a classic

anthropological technique, and it’s increasingly used in sociology

too. In addition, I also listened carefully to their language and

analyzed their use of words from Hebrew, Aramaic, and Yiddish, their

grammatical influences from Yiddish, and other distinctive features

(like /t/ release). I also did a sociolinguistic experiment called a

matched guise test, in which I recorded an individual saying a

sentence in two slightly different ways (like “Do you know where he

was going?” and “Do you know where he was goingk” or “rosh chodesh”

and “rosh choydesh”), mixed up a bunch of speech excerpts, and played

them back for community members. I then asked them whether they

thought the speaker was Orthodox and FFB (frum from birth), and their responses told me a lot about the linguistic feature in question.

3) How does your data show Modern Orthodoxy as separate from the rest of Orthodoxy?

In my study of responses on Frumster.com, I found that users who

self-select the category Modern Orthodox Liberal differed

significantly from those who selected other categories (Modern

Orthodox Machmir, Yeshivish Modern, and Yeshivish Black Hat) in a

number of indicators, including head covering (kippah/hat type for

men, plans to cover hair for women), tzitzit, and skirts vs. pants. I

found a continuum in all four categories for several of the

indicators, but for some, Modern Orthodox Liberal was distinct from

the other three.

4) How do certain ways of pronouncing letters like stronger Ts show rabbinic authority?

Americans have a few ways of pronouncing a /t/ at the end of a word,

including with or without a release of air. The released /t/ is common among people presenting themselves with an air of authority. This is not just an Orthodox thing- it can be heard in diverse communities. I found that in Orthodox communities /t/ release is more common among men than women and that people tend to release their /t/s more when they are in a position of authority (or when they want to indicate a stance of adamance). It’s not just a rabbinic linguistic feature, but certainly many rabbis release their /t/s frequently, because they often seek to speak with authority. ( AB- to articulate -a speech sound, so as to produce an audible puff of breath, as with the first t of total, the second t being usually unaspirated.)

5) What do you make of the Orthodox rejection of liberal Jews from their purview? What do your HUC students not grasp about Orthodoxy or where are they most resistant (other than egalitarianistm)?

This is, in my opinion, one of the most pressing issues facing

American Jewry today: the fact that many Orthodox and non-Orthodox

Jews have disdain for each other. I think the problem stems mostly

from lack of knowledge and contact. In my fieldwork I heard some

Orthodox Jews (especially but not only ba’alei teshuva) making

critical comments about Reform and Conservative Jews and their

institutions. And in my everyday life in the non-Orthodox world (in

Reform, Reconstructionist, Conservative, and post-denominational

egalitarian circles), I sometimes hear critical comments about

Orthodox Jews and their institutions. I also hear people on both sides

of this divide talking about “Jewish diversity and unity” and “klal yisrael” while

(sometimes inadvertently) excluding those on the other side. Most

people who make critical comments do not understand how diverse and

dynamic the other group is. Orthodox Jews tend not to know that some Conservative Jews observe Shabbat strictly and that some Reform services are now mostly in Hebrew. And non-Orthodox Jews tend not to know that some Modern Orthodox shuls have women’s tefillah groups and that many Haredim have professional degrees. People in both groups assume that those in the other group have no interest in them. I hope this book serves as a small step in addressing this issue: non-Orthodox readers will learn about a Black Hat community and about diversity in the Orthodox world, and Orthodox readers will understand that a non-Orthodox researcher can represent frum Jews and frum culture in a positive and respectful way.

5) Any thoughts on how Orthodox Academics shift their way of speaking in presentation, discussion, and dinner? Can you give examples?

At the conference on Orthodoxy, most of the participants were Orthodox. One of my favorite parts of the conference was the question and answer session after one particular talk. This one speaker gave his presentation in a very academic way, talking about the Pentateuch and referring to biblical concepts with their English names. As soon as he began his answer to the first question, he switched to a more Yeshivish style, using Hebrew names for biblicalconcepts and using other distinctive Orthodox features, like the Israeli hesitation click. His New York accent even became stronger. During the rest of the conference, including coffee breaks, meals, and other academic sessions, he (along with most of the other attendees) used varying degrees of Orthodox features in his English, but he never shifted back to pure Academese. This kind of style shifting is common and useful. We wouldn’t expect a frum scholar to use Yeshivish at AAR, and we wouldn’t expect him to use Academese at his rov’s mussar shmues.

6) How do ba’alei teshuva distinguish themselves from FFBs?

It depends on the individual. Some BTs (acronym for ba’alei teshuva),

especially those who have been frum for many years, are

indistinguishable from FFBs. Those individuals sometimes intentionally

pass as FFB and don’t correct people who assume they are FFB. But many

do not feel comfortable with this situation, and they avoid it by

referring to their non-Orthodox past or to their process of teshuva.

However, most new BTs are not able to pass as FFB. Some indicate their

BT status by trying too hard to fit in – maybe their skirt is longer

than it needs to be, they display their tzitzis too conspicuously, or

they say “baruch Hashem” and “mamish” too much. Others indicate their

BT status through unique combinations, like geflite fish made with

with Indian spices, a black hat worn with trendy sunglasses, or Hebrew

and Yiddish words combined with American slang (like “mamish keepin’

it real”). This distinctiveness is sometimes intentional and sometimes

not. As I write in chapter 1: “Even when BTs attempt to pass as FFB,

their in-between status may become apparent to those in the know,

based on the tilt of a hat, the slit of a skirt, or the shape of a

vowel.”