I don’t consider myself the stereotypical in-towner at Stern. As much as I
love going home for the occasional Shabbat, I don’t run back to Teaneck at every
possible opportunity. I don’t rush home as soon as my 3:00PM class ends on
Thursday, as if the clock struck midnight and I was going to turn back into a
country bumpkin. I enjoy traveling to different college campuses and experiencing
the different Shabbat environments their communities offer. However, whenever I
venture to another college campus, I can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy over
the warm sentiments of a tight-knit community, drawn together by their
commitment to Judaism. I am envious of the responsibility each individual in the
community feels to contribute, and most importantly, to get to know one another
personally.
I am well aware that there are many elements that make students in other
universities envious of YU students. We are lucky to have the opportunity to learn
Torah in a formal setting, we have chaggim off from school, and we face no
adversity toward our commitment to Torah U’Mitzvot and the State of Israel. These
privileges that we are bestowed should be the recipe for creating a close-knit
community: shared values, shared experiences, and shared goals. However, there
is a palpable barrier that blocks these aspirations of a community from becoming
reality.
In forming a community, Yeshiva University faces the obvious difficulty of
two separate campuses. As much as there is an effort to provide shuttle services
between both campuses, many Stern students feel uncomfortable traveling to the
Heights. And, if they do venture uptown, it is likely just to do homework in the
library or hear a speaker, not just to go hang out. There is little feeling that it is
our campus, too. It is as if we go to separate universities.
That is where the important role of Shabbat comes into play. Every
“In-Shabbat” in Stern feels like a high school shabbaton. I remember last year, my
first semester on campus, a friend convinced me to stay in Stern for the TAC/SOY
shabbaton. Thinking I would perhaps meet new people, I was overwhelmed by the
lack of warmth and discomfort I felt amongst throngs of people I did not know.
Having remembered my experience last year, I was skeptical about staying in for
the YUnite shabbaton the weekend of December 7th. But, submitting to my
friends’ coaxing once again, I was assured this was “the best Shabbat” to stay in
school.
At first, I was frustrated to have seemingly gotten myself into a similar
predicament as last year: an overcrowded Koch Auditorium, and once again,
unfamiliar faces. I thought that this was going to be yet another early Friday night,
heading up to my room, cuddling up with a book, and avoiding the festivities.
Conveniently, however, “potluck learning” was in the lounge of my building, and I
decided to see what it was all about.
I admit that I was still callous about the whole “Shabbaton” in general. But
after the learning I was sitting in a circle with a group of students, and a friend
asked me how I was enjoying Shabbat thus far. I was about to go on a rant about
how much I dislike these “Shabbatons,” until I realized something important: I was
sitting in a circle, with people I did not necessarily know, enjoying myself and meeting new people. Two things I did not expect from myself that Shabbat.
As Shabbat day came along, I found myself still becoming slightly annoyed
at the same Shabbaton-esque festivities. Nonetheless, I found myself appeased
by the fact that I had made new friends, and for the first time in my time in Stern,
I started to sense a community in the making.
I still think YU has a ways to go. For starters, we need to stop calling
Shabbat in Stern “Shabbatons,” and instead allow for the magic of a regular
Shabbat to be sufficient. After a long week of school, I think many of us can agree
that simply “laid-back” weekends need to be added into the repertoire of YU
Shabbatot. And moreover, there is a natural aspect to Shabbat, a certain
unidentifiable ingredient, that allows for bonding and a sense of community to
come with ease. I learned that the subtle and informal moments, like Shabbat, are
the elements that have the power to transform any environment into a
community.