Ten shares of righteous indignation please

By this weekend, I had really had it. I had been waiting three months, and that was 2.5 months too long.

Back in August, I applied for a family gym membership at the JCC near my house. Having heard that they offer “scholarships” – membership discounts based on income – I also filled out an application for that, which required a copy of our taxes and W-2s, and a written statement about our financial situation. I really had no idea what qualified someone for this money, or just how broke applicants usually are, but I thought it was worth a shot.

I handed in the paperwork in mid-August, and was told I would hear back within “a week or two”. I then proceeded to go back to the JCC every one or two weeks for the next three months, inquiring about my application. Every time I went in, it was some new person at the front desk, who I had to tell my story to, and every time all I ever heard was “Oh I’m sure you’ll be hearing very very soon!”

Finally, five weeks ago, I marched back to the office of the woman who actually reviews the applications, and she assured me I would be hearing within a week.

“You know, if we don’t qualify or something – that’s okay,” I told her. “We would just really like to know one way or the other so we can proceed with joining. We really want to start working out.”

“Oh no, no,” she assured me, “it isn’t about that. We just haven’t had a chance to work through them all yet!” She took down my name and number and promised to personally call me within a week and let me know.

Four weeks later … nothing.

Last week, I called and got her on the phone. She hurriedly said: “Yes yes yes, you will hear by Friday! You will get a letter in the mail!”

“Okay!” I told her, still trying really really hard to sound chipper. “But do you realize I’ve been waiting for three months now?”

“Friday!!!!!!” she hollered.

Friday came and went … no letter.

That’s when I decided *I* would write a letter. I know mom, try not to roll your eyes… But really, this was too much. It’s bad enough having people lie to you week after week, month after month, for three months – in any situation. But it’s way over the top worse when what is at issue is how a major Jewish organization treats people who are basically expressing a need for charity. Forcing people to publicly reveal their need time after time, and to basically beg for a handout, and then responding to their appeals like they are second-class citizens, not worth the basic courtesy of an honest and timely response – it goes against every basic Jewish teaching of what constitutes ethical behavior toward “the poor.”

We have been studying precisely this issue in my mishnah class at school. Mishnah Peah I is all about how farmers are required to leave “peah” on the corner of their fields for the poor to collect – and the rabbis who wrote the mishnah wrote entire chapters on what kinds of food qualify as peah, and how the quantity is established, and how it must be done in a way that people can collect it anonymously, and how it must be left at certain times of the day so the poor don’t “waste their time waiting around all day waiting for the farmer to leave the peah.”

What it describes, in other words, is a scenario 100% opposite of how the JCC is giving out their peah.

In my letter, addressed to the president of the JCCs of Greater Philadelphia, I laid out what exactly had been going on, and what I thought about it. It was three pages long. After Aaron finished slogging through it, he handed it back to me with a shrug and said: “Well, I don’t know, J, if you pack any more righteous indignation into that thing, it might spontaneously combust.”

He had a point. I waited several more days, gave myself an imaginary Qualud, and took another crack at it. It lost a page, and the high-handed moralizing was replaced with more thoughtful and calm reflection. Maimonides (pictured) even made an appearance. Just to be safe, I decided to wait a few more days before mailing it. And so you can imagine my surprise when yesterday, I came home and found a letter addressed to me from none other than the local JCC.

By way of introduction, let me just say this: If any of you have ever seen me in one of my fits of righteous indignation, you can just imagine what my reaction was when I opened up the envelope and read this:

“Dear J and A:
Thank you for your recent application for scholarship assistance from the Kaiserman JCC. According to the financial documents you submitted, you qualify for a 10% scholarship. But because AARON is a full time rabbinic student and part-time Jewish professional, we would like to extend a 25% Jewish communal worker discount to you in lieu of a scholarship.”