I just returned for a weekend trip to Atlanta to attend the festivities for the Bar Mitzvah for the son of one of my former students from about 25 years ago.  Pure and simple: It was extraordinary.  On so many levels.

I’d been to a Bat (female version) Mitzvah before, but even if  had, it wouldn’t have mattered.  One of the things that everyone (about 500 folks) agreed on is that it was unlike any Bar Mitzvah they had ever seen—and they were all Jewish.  Not only was it well attended with people from as far away as Israel, Europe and Canada, but the young man it was given for was just an incredible human being, as were his parents.  The parents (one of whom was my former student) were so open, warm, and welcoming that even though my daughter, grandddaugher and I were pretty much the only people there who were not from their close circle that they deal with through their daily lives in some way, and we were the only people of color.  For us to not once look at our watches on Friday, Saturday or Sunday was nothing less than extraordinary.  THAT’s how comfortable we felt.

One of the takeaways for me is to make sure that I tell the world that this can, in fact, happen.  We can, as outsiders, go into a group that seems totally unlike us, and, if done the right way, feel totally at home in even the most personal of ways.  You know them.  You’re sneaking looks at your watch.  Your jaws ache from the forced smiles.  You realize the laughter you’re giving is not coming from your heart, you’re making mental lists of other things you need to do.  You’re waiting for it to be over.  Think about doing this for an entire weekend.  Think about the difference between that and being with a group of your friends that you have a great time with.  Totally different experience.  This was like the latter.  Unbelievable.