Your new favorite reality star might just be Daniel Eichholz. He’s Jewish, he’s handsome, and he’ll be on a TV screen (or any screen, period―it’s 2017, people) near you every Monday.

If Eichholz’s name doesn’t ring a bell, then you probably haven’t tuned into one of Bravo’s latest reality shows, Southern Charm Savannah, a spin-off of the channel’s OG Southern Charm series, which is set in Charleston. Both series focus on the glamor (and drama) surrounding thirty-something friends who come from the South’s oldest and most elite families. (Yes, there’s some discomfiting history lurking not so far beneath the surface.)

When we recently spoke on the phone, Eichholz, 31, lived up to the charm in the show’s title, even if he denied the “ladies’ man” reputation the cast and showrunners have bestowed on him. Whether we were discussing his Jewish identity, his favorite pastimes, or the origin of his social media handles, he approached each subject with a lively openness.

A descendant of Mordecai Sheftall―a merchant from Georgia who served as a colonel in the Continental Army during the American Revolution and was the highest-ranking Jewish officer in the Colonial forces―it’s no wonder that Eichholz strongly values his religious heritage. His ancestors even helped found Congregation Mickve Israel in Savannah, one of the oldest synagogues in the U.S.

Like Sheftall, Eichholz is also breaking barriers: As the only Jewish cast member, he brings some much-needed diversity to a largely white, Christian ensemble.

“I would say that I love the Jewish religion and it made me who I am today,” said Eichholz, who attended Rambam Day School (before transferring to the prestigious secular private school Savannah Country Day), belongs to Congregation Bnai Brith Jacob, an Orthodox shul, and is on the board of the Savannah Jewish Federation. He may not keep kosher, but he does study chumash and Torah with a rabbi during “lunch and learn” sessions, some of which were filmed for the show. Whether he’s trying not to speak lashon harah or giving tzedakah to his synagogue, Eichholz takes Judaic wisdom to heart in his day-to-day life.

When he’s not busy running his marketing management company, Track My Leads, Eichholz enjoys playing sports and cooking, two activities captured on camera in Southern Charm Savannah. Although someone will have to explain the Jewish significance of strip golf―that’s apparently a thing down South―to me, he has forayed into Jewish cuisine, including matzah with lox for Pesach. In fact, he comes from a family of chefs: his grandfather owned an Italian restaurant and his cousin owned a bakery. One day, he hopes to start a food truck with his sister. The type of fare they’d offer is to be determined, but his Instagram feed does feature the occasional Old World delicacy, like homemade latkes topped with caviar or the sable he got from Murray’s Bagels during a trip to New York.

And if you were wondering about the meaning of his Instagram alias (@eagers_ride), “Eager” is an old nickname of his. “I think it really defines who I am in business and in my personal life,” he said. “I do think that a lot of my drive comes from my connection with my religion.”

Image via Bravo.

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You know it’s Monday night when The Bachelorette is trending along with Gaza on Twitter. Keep being you, world.

Chris Harrison introduces the final episode of an overall tepid tenth season in front of a live studio audience. Wait, did he just say it’s a three-hour show? Good lord. I get some dark chocolate peanut butter cups and settle in for a long night.

“This is the first week [where] I don’t know what could happen,” chirps Andi. Oh, well, it’s not a major week or anything, so that’s good. I’m glad uncertainty has only reared its head during the most important episode of the season, and possibly the most important moment of her life.

It’s time to meet the Fockers—dad Hy, mom Patti, and sister Rachel and her husband—only Andi’s family isn’t so Focker-ish. Their Jewish heritage has barely gotten a peep all season (more on this later). Nick’s up first, and he exchanges the most awkward hug of the season with Patti. Everyone remarks on Nick’s obvious nerves. “He seems a little reserved,” says Patti to the camera, moonlighting as Captain Obvious for the episode. He stumbles over recounting his feelings of true love, but goshdarnit, he does seem genuine and Patti agrees. “For someone to say that about my daughter is very special,” she says, tearing up. Get your tissues, Patti, because someone else is about to say the same exact thing to you tomorrow.

But first, it’s time for a sisterly heart-to-heart. “He makes me feel like a woman,” Andi tells Rachel, and I half-expect Aretha Franklin to break out in song here, but no dice. Nick and Hy speak next. “My whole job is Rachel, Andi, and Patty,” says Hy firmly. “I got one daughter taken care of. My job now is Andi.” If this is supposed to sound sweetly paternal, it doesn’t. It makes Andi sound like a helpless floundering female waiting for her father to secure her a husband—not a self-sufficient woman with a kick-ass career. “It would mean a lot to me to have your approval,” Nick tells Hy nervously. Hy falls silent for a moment. “I feel exactly about Andi the way you do,” he begins (I hope not exactly the same way, considering last week’s fantasy suite shenanigans), and then reluctantly gives Nick his seal of approval should Andi choose him.

I must interject here to make mention of the worst installment of the weekly Suave shampoo commercials featuring the Bachelorettes of Christmases past. This week’s ad features Andi talking stiltedly with Catherine and Desiree, who literally squeal when they wave around their ring fingers, appropriately adorned with baubles, so that Andi can see what her future might hold. Betty Friedan, I’m glad you’re not around for this.

Next up is Josh, and Andi’s family just loves him. Josh, who has thus far shown himself to be loud, dim and hot, is appropriately charming as only former athletes can be, and he lays it on thick for his one-on-one with Hy. “She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” enthuses Josh. (Really? She’s cute, but in the way that my cashier at Pathmark is cute.) Hy tells him that marriage is sometimes hard work, and wonders if Josh is prepared for that. “It already hasn’t been all roses,” Josh assures him quickly. From a sharper man, this would be a quippy one-liner referring to the show’s recurring motif, but I’m afraid any wit is wholly incidental here.

On their final date, Andi and Josh muse aloud about their confidence in each other. “I have no questions,” Josh coos. “What, you have no thoughts?” exclaims Andi. Yes, that’s it, Andi: no thoughts whatsoever! Absolutely inane conversation ensues for five minutes and is concluded when Josh reads her a letter and hands her a baseball card with her ‘stats’ on the back. “Drafted: first pick,” Andi reads, giggling. It sounds cheesy but it’s actually kind of cute.

The final date with Nick involves fewer giggles, and finally, at long last, there’s a mention of religion: “We’ll figure out whatever it is, where to live, religion…” he says obliquely. It’s the first time in the season, to my working knowledge, that Andi’s Jewishness is even referenced.

It seems bizarre that The Bachelorette never shows potential couples discussing the sorts of things marriage-minded people speak about, like religion or politics. Obviously, there’s a good chance such discussions would alienate large swaths of viewers, so the choice not to air these moments—if they happen at all—is undoubtedly calculated by ratings-minded producers. But for a show that purports to be all about helping the lovelorn find their true match, these are glaring omissions of substance, and it’s disingenuous to exclude mention of major issues that actually impact the longevity and ultimate success of any resulting relationships. However secular and non-practicing a Jew Andi might be, one would think it would behoove a woman on the cusp of marriage to someone who is not Jewish (Nick) or someone who is Jewish but was raised Catholic (Josh), to at least initiate conversation on where she stands in terms of her Judaism. No?

Nick gives Andi a necklace with a vial of sand from the beach where they had their first date, which is simultaneously creepy and thoughtful. And like sand through the hourglass, so is this day of my life: When is this freaking show going to end? Good god, there’s 45 minutes of self-doubt to go before we even get to After The Final Rose. I get more chocolate.

Back from commercial break. “It’s coming down to the final moments,” says Chris. Promise? Andi awakes on the day of reckoning. Josh meets with Jeweler-to-the-Stars-and-Trashy-Reality-Show-Contestants Neil Lane to pick out a ring. When Nick gets a knock on the door and we assume it’s his turn to meet with Neil, it’s not Neil at all but… Andi!? This can’t be good. And it isn’t: Andi proceeds to tell Nick that something didn’t feel right when she woke up that morning—and it wasn’t last night’s sushi. Nick looks stunned, and they bid each other farewell. It begins to rain as Nick looks pensively out on the patio, unless that’s actually a producer pouring down buckets of water from the roof. Either way, we get the point: Nick is a sad panda right now.

Back at the live studio audience, Chris elaborates on Nick’s shame by telling the world that he’s tried repeatedly to sit down with Andi “to chat” since filming ended, but she’s always refused—until now, because she is contractually mandated to. “But first, let’s see how the show ends,” he says, but duh, we already know how this ends. Josh approaches Andi and offers a fast-paced hodgepodge of tidbits pulled from romantic movies into one mawkish speech. Andi tells him she loves him, he proposes, and she happily accepts. And they’ll for sure live happily ever after, or at least until after she finishes filming a season of Dancing With the Stars. The end.

Note: There was an After the Final Rose special, but nothing of note happens except for the continued exploitation of a wounded man (Nick), who also tells Andi that it was wrong of her to make love with him if she wasn’t in love with him. Despite the fact that we all know they’re not crocheting in the fantasy suite, such a direct admission of its inner workings is actually (and literally!) “hitting below the belt,” as Andi tells Nick, looking positively green. The audience lets out a collective gasp and Twitter explodes. Okay, now it’s the end.

Catch up on all the previous Bachelorette re-caps here.

Image: ABC/The Bachelorette

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Attention single Jewish men and mothers of single Jewish men! Meet the newest Bachelorette and your potential bashert/daughter-in-law, Andi Dorfman.

The 26-year-old Assistant District Attorney from Atlanta said last night that she is “all in” and ready to find love on the 10th season of the hit show.

Dorfman was a contestant on the most recent series of The Bachelor, which concluded last night in a spectacularly anti-climactic fashion, sans marriage proposal and ring. Turns out bachelor Juan Pablo Galvais wasn’t exactly a prize—throughout the series he managed to alienate a number of potential future wives, including Dorfman, with his arrogant behavior and insensitive remarks. (And let’s not forget the time he said gay people shouldn’t have their own version of the show because they’re perverts! NICE ONE, JUAN.) Dorfman voluntary exited The Bachelor after a disastrous overnight date, but not before giving JPG a memorable dressing down for his failure to show any genuine interest in her. You go girl.

The newest Bachelorette told host Chris Harrison last night: “I feel all in. I feel mentally all in, emotionally all in, physically all in. I am in the place in my life where I am just so ready for this.”

Hopefully we’ll all be singing ‘Sunrise, Sunset‘ very soon.

The post Ding Ding Ding! We Have a Jewish Bachelorette! appeared first on Jewcy.

The daughter of a former Israeli government minister. A gay drag queen from Tel Aviv. A divorced Holocaust survivor.

On face value, these three may seem to have little in common, but they’re all part of what makes the surprise hit Israeli reality-TV show Deit Bachashicha, a copycat of the Dutch show Dating in the Dark, so great. Already in its second season, the show has become one of the most watched in the nation, for good reason. I didn’t even know the Israeli version existed until I walked past it playing on a TV in my office a couple of months ago (it comes on after the news, I swear). I had fond memories of the American version, being a sucker for a reality dating show, and, as a recent olah, have lately been trying to watch more Israeli TV to improve my Hebrew—particularly reality shows since they portray more “street” language. I now know how to call someone a “hottie,” a “sexpot,” and “chill.” I also know that Israelis use heavily-accented English words and phrases like “old fashioned,” “chance,” and of course, “sexy.”

The premise of the show is fairly straightforward. Six single people move into a house, generally three men and three women. The men and women live in separate quarters of the house, and only ever meet up in a totally pitch black room (infrared cameras allow viewers to see what’s going on). After a couple of days of meeting in groups and one-on-one in the dark, the participants invite one another for an unveiling in the light.

Dating shows are a dime a dozen, but Dating in the Dark distinguishes itself by exposing the vulnerabilities of even the most confident and cocky daters: When the lights go up, will whomever they’ve found a connection with still want to continue things?

Whereas reality show contestants tend to be young, pretty, and heteronormative—what most people presumably want to see on TV—the Israeli version has showcased a unique and varied cast of characters. Israel is undoubtedly a melting pot—on just one block you can hear a mix of Hebrew, English, Arabic, Yiddish, Russian, Amharic, and French. From the ultra-religious to the ultra-secular and everything in between, Israel is a country of extremes—and presenting those unique viewpoints on TV is almost like a snapshot of my commute on the bus each day: This is Israel.

The first Israeli season played things relatively safe, with a few interesting contestants. One episode featured Maya, a woman who said she’s only ever dated other women, but wants to try to find a connection with a man. Another episode featured Sassia, who grew up in an ultra-Orthodox home but left at 14, and was scared to tell the guys that she was still a virgin. More than one episode featured obese contestants who were worried what their potential love connections would think in the light.

But Season 2 was where things really got interesting.

In Episode 4, we meet Dor, who was born a Palestinian Muslim in Gaza. But at age 12, he ran away to Israel, was adopted by an Israeli family, and converted to Judaism. He is now religious; he keeps Shabbat, and lays tefillin every morning.

Of course, this came as quite a surprise to both the other men and the women in the house. When he first meets his fellow male contestants, he tells them he made aliya at age 12.

“From where?” they ask. “From Khan Younis,” he tells them. There is a moment of shocked silence, before the camera cuts to an aside from one of the other men.

“I know Khan Younis,” he says. “I used to bomb Khan Younis.”

But Dor asks the guys to keep his origins a secret from the women, and doesn’t reveal the news until he has built a connection with Shiran. (At one point the girls speculate on his accent: “Argentinian, I’m sure of it.”)

When he does tell Shiran, she struggles with the news, wondering what her friends and family would think, and how his last girlfriend’s family accepted him (not well).

The very next episode was a special titled “Gays in the Dark,” featuring, of course, six gay men. Mostly from Tel Aviv—plus a kibbutznik who makes cheese—the group addressed some complex issues within the gay community, in addition to placing gay couples in the living rooms of hundreds of thousands of Israeli homes.

Despite being assured by his date that his job as a drag queen was just a job, one participant couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of waving goodbye to his boyfriend every night as he left the house in a dress and heels. Another man confessed to his date that though he had lost more than 50 pounds recently, he was still far from the svelte look prized in the gay community. Another, more effeminate contestant, was derided by several of the men for being too feminine. (“If I wanted to date someone feminine, I’d date women.”)

But the most illuminating and entertaining episode was the one that followed, a special titled “The Golden Age.” Almost no dating shows feature elderly contestants, but there are obviously plenty who are looking for love. And, as a recent Bank of Israel report pointed out, the percentage of elderly individuals in the population is rapidly growing, and that demographic will become an even more prominent part of society in the coming decades.

The Golden Age show featured contestants ranging from age 66 to 78. They included Masha, a Polish Holocaust survivor whose husband of 22 years died a year after they divorced; Yossi, who hasn’t been on a date since his wife of 59 years died three years ago; and Yona, a 74-year-old divorcee who is looking for “sex every day” or “Bar Rafaeli.”

I may be a bit of a reality TV (and TV in general) junkie, but the Israeli Dating in the Dark was captivating to watch for so many reasons. As a new-ish immigrant, I felt an entry into understanding Israeli life and the myriad of personalities within it: the club-going bartender from Tel Aviv, the IDF pilot from Beersheva, the Haredi rebel from Bnei Brak, and the yoga instructor from Tzfat.

Will I keep watching? For sure, in fact I’d like to suggest an episode with Arab-Israeli contestants, or with religious participants, and certainly more Ethiopian representation across the episodes.

Listen up producers: Don’t disappoint.

(Still image from the show via Facebook)

The post Why ‘Dating in the Dark’ is Israel’s Surprise Reality TV Hit appeared first on Jewcy.

First, Bravo came for the housewives, and we didn’t say anything because we aren’t housewives. Then, they came for the chefs, and we didn’t say anything because we’re not so great at cooking. But now they’ve come for the JAPS, and it is our civic duty, as a site that dares to call itself Jewcy, to speak up.

I grew up on Long Island. I say that with a mixture of pride and dread—proud because I survived relatively intact (and with great clothes) but also dreading having to hear about that kid you went to college with who was from Roslyn. That said, I like to consider myself, at least in my role as Jewcy editor, as something of a Strong Island guardian. Like, when you tell me I ‘don’t sound like I’m from Long Island at all,’ and I’m supposed to thank you, that’s annoying. And when more than five people I know professionally sent me the link to Bravo’s new show, Princesses Long Island, which premiered last night, I don’t really know what to think.

The nice thing about reality TV these days is that you can pretty much assume everything from the plot lines to the dialogue is scripted, and not actually real at all. But Princesses Long Island hits so close to home (literally!) that it’s unbearably painful to watch. The show centers around six twenty-something young women who live with their parents on Long Island, enjoying the lavish comforts of home and the unending affection of parents who only want them to be happy. But it’s not the 2013 reality of having to move back home because your unpaid internship never turned into that long-promised full-time gig or because your landlord jacked up the rent and your entry-level job doesn’t pay enough—these young women simply never left, and never plan to, until they meet Mr. Right.

The direct transition from dependency on parents to dependency on spouse is one of the most disturbing aspects of the show, which features mostly daughters of wealthy Jewish families who don’t visibly hold jobs (there is one cast member who works, we are constantly reminded). “You need a man to take care of you,” Chanel’s father says during a Friday night dinner. The 27-year-old is obsessed with getting married: “There’s an old Jewish proverb that says, ‘When you marry an old maid, you get a faithful wife,” she tells the camera in the episode’s opening voiceover. “But let’s be honest: no guy on Long Island is going to fall for that one.”

The problem, we learn, is that these girls just aren’t finding guys as great as their fathers—a recurring theme throughout the first episode, encouraged by the mothers and lamented by their prospect-less daughters. It’s twisted and kind of gross. Here’s Ashlee getting a mani-pedi with her dad, wondering how she’ll ever meet a guy who’s as good as he is (“I’m looking for amenities,” she later explains of her ideal mate):

The other irksome part of the show, which mostly reeks of cast members itching to promote their personal ‘brands,’ is the way Judaism is on display, less a religious affiliation and more of a personality trait. Erica, who’s set up as the 29-year-old lush (she falls down while drunkenly singing ‘Hava Nagila’ in the preview for the rest of the season, omg), tells the camera, “We’re reform Jews, which kind of means we’re not that Jewish.” Her father then fakes a blessing before telling the kosher-keeping Chanel, who’s over for a barbecue, that the non-kosher hot dogs are, in fact, kosher.

“Everybody has a stereotype of a Long Island Jewish girl,” Ashlee says at the nail salon, “People get so offended, I’m like bring it: I’m Jewish, I’m American, and I’m a princess.” While there’s certainly something to be said for owning your identity (less so for promoting it shamelessly on television, though), the way they yell ‘Shalom’ in greeting, repeatedly misuse the word ‘verklempt,’ and play up their Jewishness for the camera is pretty revolting. But then again, so is mostly everything else about these young women.

The post Why Bravo’s ‘Princesses Long Island’ is Like, the Worst Thing Ever appeared first on Jewcy.

Two more contestants were voted off NBC’s vocal competition reality show The Voice last night, leaving rookie coach Usher with only one contestant left on his team—the fourth season’s surprise favorite, Michelle Chamuel.

Thank you guys so much for voting and keeping me here to sing more for you! You are the stars.

— Michelle Chamuel (@MichelleChamuel) May 22, 2013

Only eight contestants remain, each vying for the grand prize, a recording contract with Universal Music Group (and more screen time with celebrity coaches Adam Levine, Blake Shelton, Usher, and Shakira). But 26-year-old Chamuel, from Amherst, MA, has unexpectedly stolen the show. The diminutive and talented singer has a quiet charisma which is offset by what can only be called humility, unusual in a rock star.

She’s also queer and Jewish, though she won’t let that define her—a difficult feat on reality television. I don’t think of myself as “a lesbian musician” or a “Jewish artist,” she said in an interview with After Ellen. “It’s not one and alone. I think of myself as a musician.” (She also revealed she only shaves one of her legs, which is pretty awesome.)

“I think I represent nerdy people,” Chamuel said with a disarming smile in the opening episode. “People misunderstand me sometimes. As an introvert, people take me to be aloof. Someone says hello to me, and it’s terrifying. Like, should I tell them I just had the best day ever? And then they’re like, what is wrong with this person?”

Despite her introversion, Chamuel seems to have run away with America’s heart. Throughout every round she’s been saved by viewers, who call in or text message votes for their favorite contestant. From her first appearance, she had the judges eating out of the palm of her hand. For her blind audition (the judges can’t see the performer, they only hear her voice), she appeared on stage in a black and grey striped shirt under a red cardigan and sang Katy Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl.”

Adam Levine pushed his buzzer for her after she had sung only two phrases of the song. Shakira followed suit soon after. Usher’s hand lingered over his buzzer—will he press it? won’t he?—until finally, with a smile that looked almost like defeat, pressed it just seconds before the music stopped.

With three judges at her disposal, the choice was now Chamuel’s. The celebrities began to fight for her vote.

“There’s a rock chick inside of me,” Shakira tried, “and I see the rock chick inside of you.”

“There’s a rock chick inside of me, too,” Adam Levine said. “You look so pure, yet when you sing, it’s like, you’re gonna stop the earth. I love you!”

“I love you too!” Shakira threw in, not to be outdone.

Usher was less enthusiastic. “You impressed me,” he said simply. “It’s your first time, it’s my first time. We could go far.”

And yet, despite the faintness of his praise, it was Usher that Chamuel chose to be her coach. She selected the one coach who turned around at the last second, the one coach who didn’t say he loved her.

The show has impressively wide-ranging appeal, garnering 13 million viewers mid-season (all the more significant considering rival American Idol’s subpar finale ratings). This success, as far as this viewer is concerned, stems from the show’s unique set-up, powerfully evocative of family life. Think about it: you have a bunch of authority figures, beloved and all-knowing, with both the power to judge and the power to teach. Then you have your group of youthful hopefuls, wanting the world and more, desiring first and foremost the love of these superstars—and then, no doubt, to ultimately supersede them.

But here’s the kicker: instead of having a gaggle of siblings competing for the love of two parents, four parent-figures compete for the love of a group of artists (in the first slew of episodes, anyhow). There’s even a section of the show devoted to “stealing”—should a judge reject an artist, the other judges can swoop in and rescue the artist, bringing him or her over to their family—I mean, team. There’s something deeply compelling and rather perverse about it. Perhaps this is what might lead an artist to change her plans last minute, from selecting the coach she had planned on choosing (Chamuel initially said she probably would choose Adam if he hit his buzzer for her) to selecting the only one who wouldn’t tell her he loved her.

Chamuel ends each song with an utterly heartbreaking look at Coach Usher, but her humble charm has all the coaches rooting for her. “You take the competition right out of this for us,” Adam said Monday night after her performance, a rendition of Pink’s “Just Give Me a Reason”, in which Chamuel wore slacks, a jacket, and her trademark black plastic glasses. “We’re all just beaming with pride over how much success you’ve had,” he said.

And Usher, for his part, stood up to cheer during the performance, and after she was done, said, “There’s nothing on that stage but you.”

The post How Michelle Chamuel Became the Surprise Favorite on ‘The Voice’ Season 4 appeared first on Jewcy.

It’s. Really. Happening. Olympic Gold Medalist Aly Raisman is now Dancing with the Stars Contestant Aly Raisman, as evidenced by this video of her first rehearsal. As Dvora Meyers wrote last week, Raisman has a lot to prove on the dance floor:

The golden gymnast has even been partnered with Mark Ballas, who co-won the mirror ball trophy with Johnson. After coaching Johnson to the win, Ballas probably knows better than anyone how to break the many bad dancing habits—flicked wrists, anyone?—that gymnasts learn as part of their athletic training. (Gymnasts’ dance training is often laughable. Raisman’s gymnastics dance background will help her as much Baltimore Ravens’ Jacoby Jones’ end zone dances will help him.)

Looks like she’s taking the challenge to loosen up and show a different side of herself seriously:

Previous: The BallaBuster: Aly Raisman’s New ‘Dancing With the Stars’ Moves
Leave Aly Raisman Alone

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On a Season 2 episode of Shahs of Sunset, Bravo’s reality television glimpse into Persian American life, Jewish cast member Mike Shouhed struggles with introducing his non-Jewish girlfriend to his family. After some encouragement from his brother David (a dentist, obviously), who brushes the meeting off as a “little hurdle” to overcome, Mike brings the Italian-American Jessica to his parents’ house for Shabbat dinner. He explains to the off-screen camera that it’s an effort to fulfill the nagging maternal directive to marry a nice Jewish girl and have babies—just, of course, minus the Jewish part. Mike does his best, but can only meet his mother halfway.

Kiddush is perfunctorily recited by Mike’s father, and white nylon yarmulkes briefly grace the heads of the men in the room. The camera zooms in on a bottle of Manischewitz on the table. After some initial tension post-motzi, Jessica impresses the Shouhed family by knowing to kiss both cheeks, a customary Persian greeting. Her career path as a nurse is also promising—as Mike explains, “Persians love professional degrees.”  

As a viewer, it’s unclear what the bigger issue is for Mike’s family–that Jessica isn’t Jewish, or that she isn’t Persian. After all, Mike’s Jewish observance doesn’t seem to go much further than an impressive respect for his mother and regular attendance at Shabbat dinners. As the only self-identified Jewish main character currently on the show, Mike’s storyline follows a well-trodden arc of success and assimilation. For him, the requirements of a Persian and Jewish partner are almost interchangeable—it’s a matter of ethnic belonging and continuity rather than religious priorities.

Shahs of Sunset, which follows the life and times of high-rolling Persian Americans in Los Angeles—Tehrangeles, they call it—as they navigate life, love, and partying, is yet another incarnation in the Jersey Shore trend: American ethnic enclaves mined for reality entertainment. Unsurprisingly, the Persian American community is less than pleased about what it sees as a cheap exploitation of negative stereotypes of cheap wealth and overdramatic behavior.

Yet while much has been said about that controversy, not much attention has been paid to the treatment of religion, and religious difference, on the show. The women on the show are all Persian Muslims. G.G., Mercedes, Lily, and Asa enjoy working and living in Los Angeles in varying industries, from real estate to swimwear. Except for Asa, the self-described Persian Pop Priestess who flings off her chador as part of her performance art, there is little discussion of how Islam plays into their identities—although there is much discussion of what it means to be Persian.

Mike and Sammy, both in real estate, are identified as Jews, although Mike is portrayed as more identified than Sammy (who also demoted to a supporting character in Season 2), attending Shabbat dinners and openly declaring that his Jewish mother is the most important woman in his life. Reza, who is openly gay, is torn between the Muslim and Jewish sides of his family (more on that later).

Season 2 sees both Mike and Reza struggling with issues of Jewish identity and belonging, though in vastly different ways. Mike hesitantly introduces Jessica to tadig, the crunchy rice which is the ultimate symbol of Persian cuisine. In the end, her Italian ethnic identity is close enough for Mike—an unexplained conflation of ethnic and religious identities. In the season’s finale, he asks his family for their blessing, and with his own “freedom of choice” (Mike’s own language) that his parents have given him by leaving Iran, he chooses to marry a woman outside his race and religion—a non-Persian and non-Jewish woman. His own immigrant parents only want happiness for their son.

Reza, the breakout star of the show, is the most vivacious, likable character of the bunch. The product of a Muslim-Jewish intermarriage (Muslim mother, Jewish father), he was raised primarily by his mother after his unfaithful father abandoned the family when Reza was young. He is proudly gay, which, despite initial reluctance from his family, seems to be widely accepted in their traditional Persian community. Despite identifying as a Muslim, Reza admits in Season 1 that he’s never been inside a mosque, adding that he’s been to plenty of bar mitzvahs so he might as well be Jewish.

While the show’s treatment of Judaism certainly leaves a lot to be desired, it at least gets airtime. Throughout the first two seasons of Shahs, Islam was mentioned only a handful of times. Muslim celebrations are either presented as completely secular or constructed as Persian, and not Muslim, events. While Iranian Jewishness is packaged as novel to viewers, Muslim Persian identity seems to have been scrupulously avoided.

For Reza, then, religious affiliation is marked by whom one parties with the most. His in-between status (there is no patrilineal descent here) is revealed during his first trip to Great Neck, NY, where we see his difficult relationship and (eventual on-screen reconciliation) with his father’s side of the family. Reza describes the Long Island enclave as an all-Jewish Persian Utopia, in many ways the suburban other to glitzy L.A.

Reza, bearing a carefully selected parve cake (the scene in Bruce’s Bakery where Reza asks repeatedly if the cake is dairy free is perhaps my favorite from the first season), approaches his father and asks for an olive branch. The two embrace and cry, but the reunion is marred by Reza’s grandmother, a ninety-plus matriarch who is not pleased that her grandchildren are, as she says, “goyim.”

Religion is a double sided sword on the show—harmful when divisions are enforced (such as the punishment for exogamy) but a unifying force when there is food to share and holidays to celebrate. Difference between Persians of varying religions is not a fundamental division, but a matter of generational conflict that can be solved with a family reunion, a good cry, and a healthy dose of American multiculturalism.

In Season 2, Reza brings the entire gang to Great Neck for Rosh Hashanah dinner, in an attempt to make further inroads with his Jewish family. Mike, the resident Jew, explains that Rosh Hashanah is the time to start fresh, and that the group should bring large gifts to Reza’s uncle Hooshang, who graciously agreed to host his nephew’s entourage. (Mike also explains that he had to ask special permission to miss Rosh Hashanah with his family. His mother must have been so upset.)

This pared down celebration of the Jewish New Year, with minimal ritual (a quick shot of apples and honey and a random cousin making a shortened kiddush is all the Jewish content we get) and no synagogue attendance (if anyone does go, it isn’t mentioned) allows for Reza to fully reconcile with his old grandmother, portrayed until now as a rather terrifying personality—perhaps the scariest on the show to date. In a classic Shahs ending, everyone makes up in time for late-evening cocktails.

Perhaps it is quixotic to demand nuance from reality television, but this pop-culture-fan-turned-academic would have loved to see a fuller treatment of religion and ethnicity, how young Persian-Americans are creating their own identities amongst the classic divisions of American society, and how especially Persian Jews are demanding their role on the current American Jewish scene—a scene that is dominantly white and Ashkenazi. While you ponder those possibilities of these Jewish Shahs, you might as well enjoy the tadig.

Previously: Learning Farsi with ‘Shahs of Sunset’
‘Shahs of Sunset’ Mega-Mansion Can Be Yours for Just $58 Million

The post Shahs of Sunset’s Jewish Problem appeared first on Jewcy.

This past weekend, the American Cup, the only international gymnastics competition held in the United States, took place in Worcester, Massachusetts, near Aly Raisman’s suburban Boston hometown. It was at this very gymnasium in 2010 that a then-unknown Raisman burst onto the senior elite scene by placing second in the all-around competition,

This year, however, the Olympic champion did not compete. She was on hand to sign autographs for young fans and speak to the press about her latest venture—her upcoming stint as a contestant on Dancing With The Stars.

Raisman is following in the footsteps of 2008 Olympic gold medalist Shawn Johnson, who beat out Giles Marini to win her post-Games season on the show. Raisman even performed with Johnson and the rest of Fierce Five during the DWTS: All Stars finale back in November.

Giving interviews at the American Cup this weekend, the Jewish gymnast said that when she was in Los Angeles to film last season’s DWTS cameo, she made it clear that she wanted to be a contestant on the show. “I made sure that I let everyone know I wanted to do it when I went on the show,” she said. Sounds like she took some of Sheryl Sandberg’s “lean in” advice.

The golden gymnast has even been partnered with Mark Ballas, who co-won the mirror ball trophy with Johnson. After coaching Johnson to the win, Ballas probably knows better than anyone how to break the many bad dancing habits—flicked wrists, anyone?—that gymnasts learn as part of their athletic training. (Gymnasts’ dance training is often laughable. Raisman’s gymnastics dance background will help her as much Baltimore Ravens’ Jacoby Jones’ end zone dances will help him.)

Olympic athletes—from Kristi Yamaguchi to Apollo Anton Ohno and others—have fared very well on the ballroom dancing show, which bodes well for Raisman, who seemed excited to apply her famous work ethic to the dance floor. But this isn’t merely a competition of dance skill and physical prowess. The voting aspect of the show still makes this, at least in part, a popularity contest—not unlike the election for a high school class president.

Though Raisman left the Olympic Games as a bona fide star, she was still overshadowed by Olympic all-around champion Gabby Douglas and the ever meme-able McKayla Maroney, who herself turned down an offer to be on the show in order to get back to the gym and resume training.

Johnson, as gymnastics blogger (there are several of us!) Blythe Lawrence observed, did more than learn the dances; she created an appealing coming-of-age narrative arc during her time on the show. She grew up, literally and otherwise, while she was a contestant on the program. The youngest member of the 2008 U.S. Olympic team, she arrived as a fresh scrubbed, corn fed Iowan girl and morphed into a strutting woman who wore provocative costumes and makeup, not scrunchies and bows.

Raisman will begin her run without that kind of backstory. She will be older—almost 19—and does not have the same Midwestern appeal, hailing instead from a suburb just outside of Boston. Also, Raisman has a reputation for competitive verve and consistency, not adorableness.

Other past contestants have made their improved physical fitness and weight loss a central part of their experience on the program. Obviously, this would be ridiculous for an Olympic athlete who just completed a nationwide gymnastics tour. So the question is—what will Raisman’s storyline be for DWTS?

It may, at least in part, be Jewish. Her bio, after listing her gymnastics accomplishments, reads:

The eldest of four kids in her family, Raisman comes from a Jewish background and famously performed her gold medal-winning floor exercise to the traditional Jewish wedding song, “Hava Nagila,” for which she earned worldwide recognition in the Jewish community.

I have no idea who wrote this—Raisman, her mother, or some ABC intern—but I was taken aback to see one really long sentence (or short paragraph) devoted to her Jewishness. Is this a call to the Jewish community to support her bid to win the mirror ball trophy? And if we Jews are expected to vote for her, we need to know—where does she stand on Israel? AIPAC is asking.

Will the producers milk the Jewish angle and find some jazzed up version of “Hava Nagila” for Raisman to do the quickstep to? It wouldn’t be entirely out of line, given both DWTS and the song’s own reputation for cheesiness. I’m both hoping for and dreading this sort of pandering. (But it would work. It would so work.)

For Raisman’s sake, I hope that this is just an anecdote in her bio and nothing more, a nod to this summer’s frenzied response to her Jewishness, music selection, and gold medals. I wouldn’t want to see her try to incorporate “Hatikvah” or the score from Schindler’s List in her performances.

Her bigger concern, after all, is not the approval of the Jewish community, but of the “gymternet,” which has long maligned (and that’s putting it euphemistically) her for her artistic abilities, something she is aware of. “People would always complain that I wasn’t expressive enough in my floor routine and I want to show people that I can do that,” she told reporters this weekend.

Now’s your chance.

(Art by Margarita Korol)

Previous columns: Time Machines Don’t Work for Women
A Jewish Childhood After Divorce

The post The BallaBuster: Aly Raisman’s New ‘Dancing With the Stars’ Moves appeared first on Jewcy.

Over at Tablet, Liel Leibovitz has an excellent recap of the unlikely drama caused by 17-year-old Ofir Ben Sheetrit’s successful audition on the Israeli version of The Voice—the Orthodox high school student got suspended from school, and gained national attention:

It was a perfect TV moment, but very soon it became something far more meaningful. Ben Sheetrit’s school, incensed that their student had flouted the stricture forbidding religious women to sing in public and the prohibition against touching members of the opposite sex, suspended her for two weeks. Reality television being more popular in Israel than any other human pursuit, the suspension soon made front-page news.

Reluctant to embrace her new-found status as a rebel with a golden voice, Ben Sheetrit explained in an interview that she was accepting her suspension. “I understood that what I did was against the spirit of the ulpana,” she said, “and didn’t want to create an opening for other girls to do the same. The punishment is symbolic.” Her meek protestations, however, were largely ignored. Ben Sheetrit has become the newest focal point of one of Israeli society’s oldest and most bitter struggles, the ever-growing rift between an increasingly stringent Orthodoxy and a combative secular majority wary of religious extremism. Caught in the middle of this culture war is a large swath of religious Jews who feel at home in both worlds and who want to live a traditional, observant life without subscribing to the strictest of rabbinic interpretations. To these Israelis, Ben Sheetrit is a heroine.

Here’s Ben Sheetrit’s audition, which school officials may have hated but the judges loved:

אופיר בן שטרית – עוד מחכה לאחד‎

shorek | Myspace Video

An Orthodox Star Is Born [Tablet]

The post Meet 17-Year-Old Ofir Ben Sheetrit, Israel’s Newest Singing Sensation appeared first on Jewcy.