By Rabbi Stephanie Crawley
Sometimes Egypt is a place on a map for us to trace its borders
And sometimes it is a space held in time for us to always leave
And sometimes it is a mythic adversary in the battle of hard hearts
And sometimes it is my open concept kitchen
Where I lead prayer each week
It isn’t so bad, here
I’ve even decorated it
I just can’t leave
Not yet –
Not safe to sing
Not safe to take glorious deep communal breaths
Not safe enough to be together
So I harmonize with my refrigerator
Thank my tziztit for sweeping as they graze the floor
And make my table into a sanctuary once again
My mother named me for her sake and not for mine
mar -bitter
Like the maror you will eat one day at the seder that barely mentions my name
She named me for her bitter life
For the taste of blood that the slave driver causes
For the taste of salt tears
For the forgotten taste of freedom
And She named me for what was but she also named me for what could be
yam -sea
Like the place that would come to be my liberation that you sing of each day
She named me for freedom
For the sweet waters of redemption
For the pools of my tears I now dance in
For the waters that taught me I could be held without being constricted
And she named me in defiance
myr – beloved
Not in her mother tongue but in the Egyptian language
I carried a symbol – a testament
That when you say my name you will know that
nothing about this captivity shutter our hearts
Will keep us from loving our children
From the words of care shared between a mother and her daughter
We are (still) human because we love
I am Miriam –
I am named for the bitter and for my one day hoped for sweet freedom waters and
I am named for defiant love