February 6, 2011

At first, I think we were all a little anxious.

Looking around the classroom at the class itself, a little bit of nervousness was understandable. We had our own version of the Breakfast Club: we had academicians, athletes, dancers, social butterflies, introverts and many different combinations of the above. Only two pairs of people went to the same school. I had gotten Facebook posts worrying that “I don’t really know anyone” and heard concerns about the potential for awkwardness among roommates. As we approached our weekend trip to Cincinnati, Ohio, I knew it would be interesting.

We arrived at the airport at 7:30 a.m. which meant an early morning for those of us who lived 45 minutes away. After a bit of caffeine and a very close call (one of our group had mixed up the dates and had woken to a frantic call from
Jo-Ellen), we were on our way. The flight up was uneventful, quiet and rather lethargic. Upon our arrival, we had lunch and toured the HUC archives. It was not until we wandered back outside that we discovered the one thing that transfixes virtually all Floridians: snow.

A few snowballs, wet dress shoes and a couple of gloveless blue fingers later, we left for Friday night services at the Wise Center location of the Plum Street temple. We arrived there relatively early, giving ourselves plenty of time to munch on olives and attempt to fit four people on a crowded, bumpy bench. Services were beautiful and comfortingly familiar. There was a band playing contemporary Jewish music, including tunes that we knew, some that we didn’t and one African-inspired “Am Yisrael Chai” that had its own choreography. The chapel was reminiscent of our own, containing plain brick walls, many windows, tanned wood and brightly colored Jewish art. As Rabbi articulated during a group discussion, it emphasized the imminence of G-d and encouraged people to look within themselves to find holiness. As visitors, it offered a welcoming experience for our first night in Cincinnati.

The next morning, we woke up early (for a group of teenagers) and went to HUC for a tour of the campus and Shabbat morning services. A fifth-year rabbinical student was leading the service, and it was an entirely different experience than that of the night before. Gone were the contemporary songs and choreography; instead the service was filled with traditional melodies, long stretches of Hebrew and a fantastic sermon enumerating criteria for being a “good” reform Jew. It was a much more intellectual, conservative service with an entirely different atmosphere. It focused on feeling the presence of G-d not through an emotional connection to art, or atmosphere, but through an intellectual journey through thought and philosophy.

We followed services with lunch at the famous Skyline Chili, home of the chili-topped spaghetti and then briefly toured the Plum Street sanctuary. Remarkably, this sanctuary was entirely different than either of those that we had seen before. It was a marvel of a building, constructed with a Gothic-inspired exterior and a Moorish inside, reminiscent of a Hagia Sofia richly painted with geometric designs. This certainly was not the stark, philosophical atmosphere of that morning’s service, yet it was far more imposing than the chapel of the night before. This sanctuary was constructed to reflect G-d’s grandeur and to remind the congregants who worshipped within its walls of how much they had yet to achieve. Standing and looking up at its ceiling, even as a visitor, I felt that the temple stood as a challenge to those who entered it. Created among the hustle, bustle and grime of downtown Cincinnati, it challenged its congregants to be similar creators, forming something beautiful out of the world that surrounded them.

Our last stop of the afternoon was the Underground Railroad Freedom Center. As the first secular and non-culinary stop of our trip, it offered an interesting complement to the themes that we had explored earlier. Right after leaving the imposing magnificence of the Plum Street temple, we learned about those who had met its challenge in their own way: the conductors who had helped slaves achieve freedom and the slaves who had left their home to create a new life for themselves and their family. The museum was a poignant way to connect our responsibilities as Jews to the inhumanities of both the past and the present.

Our last night in Cincinnati was a “night out on the town,” filled with hamburgers, the fabulous Graeter’s homemade ice cream and wistful glances at the ice skating rink that had closed too early. Of course, we all returned to the hotel with cold hands, wet behinds and bits of snow in our hair, but that night was perhaps one of the most important steps towards unifying us into one cohesive confirmation class.

The next morning was a hectic one. As teenagers, we wisely decided to push back wake-up time as far back as we possibly could while still having to pack, get ready for the day and clean our room. After miraculously meeting in the lobby on time, we had hot bagels at Breuger’s, toured the HUC museum of Jewish documents and artifacts and then headed home.

Our confirmation class’s trip to Cincinnati certainly turned out well, far surpassing the expectations of anyone in our group. For me, it was a trip all about unity. A multi-faceted, diverse group of people were united into a single confirmation class through “bonding sesh’s (sessions)” on the plane ride home, sashaying through Wal-Mart and some serious “bromancing.” At the same time, we also explored more global concepts, seeing how one unified religion could involve so many different ways to learn and worship. Though spending a weekend away from home can be intimidating, even for us oh-so-grown-up teenagers, it was truly a learning experience. Now, not only have I gained a deeper, richer understanding of my own faith, but I can also throw a wicked snowball.

Caroline Snowden
Confirmation Student
Congregation Ahavath Chesed