Author’s Note: Pardon the use of certain terms if used in the wrong context.
The Leibovs, Jeremiah, his wife Yonah, and their seven children, are an Orthodox Jewish family from Brooklyn.
It was an exciting time as their only daughter, Julia, was going to be
Bat Mitzvah-ed soon.
Mrs. Leibov had mailed the invitations for her daughter’s Bat Mitzvah on Wednesday morning.
Unfortunately, she failed to proofread them.
Their telephone had been ringing off the hook since Thursday morning.
The invitees were calling to discuss the scandalous invitation they had received.
Mrs. Leibov was relieved that the Sabbath was here, sunset Friday.
The Shabbos Goy, Christopher Whalen, a Mick kid from two blocks away, would be over soon to turn out the lights and turn on the heater.
But first, she would make sure he unplugged the phone.
Julia's father liked Christopher. He always said that for a Mick he was pretty sharp and had a Yiddishe kop.
The Sabbath meant Mrs. Leibov couldn’t answer the phone, even if she wanted to, until sunset Saturday.
Baruch Hashem!
It seems that young Julia had a problem with her Bat Mitzvah invitations, and behind her parents' back, she made an adjustment at the printer before they were printed.
Her father confronts her: “Young lady, we just got off the phone with the printer. He said you paid him a visit on Monday. Is that true?”
Julia: “Yes, of course. I had to fix the invitations. They had a typo. Just one little letter needed to be changed.”
Her father: “We are the laughing stocks of the community. Everyone is saying we wanted you to be a boy! What insane parents would want their daughter to become a son?
The invitations say our beautiful daughter will be having her Bar Mitzvah, not a Bat Mitzvah!
Why would you do such a thing? You are an embarrassment!”
Julia: “My six brothers had a Bar Mitzvah, and I will also have one or I will have none.
A Bat Mitzvah is a meaningless sexist accommodation. I know you and the elders have brainwashed everyone for hundreds of years to believe they are the same, but Abba, you know they are not.
How could Jewish, Mormon, Amish, Muslim and Christian women be so delusional and accept all the ways they are forced to be less than the men in their faiths?
Well, this Jewish woman to-be will never be less than any Jewish man or any man, period!
As my father you should want the same for me!
Am I not a jew? Or do you see me as a female jew and less than the full and genuine jews your sons are? I already know the answer to that question.
The fact that there are different names for the male and female Mitzvah rites, proves they are not the same!”
Her father: “You have always been stubborn and questioning. You are soon to be a woman and you need more than ever to know your place.
You will have a Bat Mitzvah!
You are not going to embarrass me and our family, young lady!
I knew it was a mistake to marry an American born Jewish woman.
My parents told me they are too independent but I didn’t listen. Who put these ideas in your head?
Your mother?”
Julia: “No, I did.
They are my thoughts!
Because I am female you think my complex thoughts were implanted by someone else?
No Abba, I am not the blank naive slate you want your daughter to be. I am smart enough to know the difference in importance between a Bar Mitzvah and Bat Mitzvah!
How could you want me to be less sanctified than my six brothers?”
Father: “I will hear no more of this!” and he stomped out of the kitchen.
The day of her Bat Mitzvah, Julia went into Manhattan.
The days where she was sexually, emotionally and psychologically repressed were over.
She ditched her sheitel and had her real hair dyed crimson red.
She had her nails done to match.
She then went to Saks Fifth Avenue and had her make-up done, as loud as possible.
She bought the sexiest red dress she could find.
For undergarments she bought a sheer black bra and matching panties.
And to feel extra sexy she purchased matching sheer black stockings with a black seam up the back and a garter belt.
No one else would see these, but feeling so much sheer silk against so much of her bare skin further emboldened her.
To be honest, puberty had barely started for Julia, so the dress hung on her like a ten year old boy, but, as would become one of her signature personality traits, she went with it anyway to make a statement.
And this statement had nothing to do with her dress fitting correctly.
She bought red pumps and a matching clutch.
She took one last look in the dressing room mirror and made sure there was nothing tznius, meaning modest, about her appearance.
She got to her Bat Mitzvah ½ hour late on purpose to make sure the maximum number of attendees were seated.
She opened the door and ran to, and stood on the Bimah.
Julia yelled: “Shalom! There will be no Bat Mitzvah Today!
Allow me to introduce myself.
I am now Julia Haart!
I will miss you all!”
She walked slowly and with confidence, holding her head very high, out of the synagogue for the last time, the guests sitting there with their mouths agape.
To this day, she remains…..
Julia Haart
Oh, and she fills out that red dress perfectly now, don’t you agree?
