My answer remained unchanged. I grew up in a tolerant Jewish household. Two years later, I realize my perspective was simplistic, maybe even naive.
He made a vague reference to his parents not approving of our relationship, but I knew there was more to the story. It went against their religious values for him to date anyone, let alone a non-Muslimβthey viewed the act as haram , or forbidden by Islamic law. They told him they felt angered and disappointed and that they thought I would distract him from getting good grades, getting into a good med school, and being a good Muslim.
They felt hurt by his choice, as the oldest child, to set a bad example for his siblings by going against their wishes. While my family members reacted better, several still had questions. I wondered if maybe he was right. Underlying the assumption that I had a fickle relationship with religion, I think, was the idea that as a woman, I would allow my identity to be swept away by whomever I dated.
Was I Jewish? I could read Hebrew. I was Jewish. In the face of his devoutness, I had been reluctant to reveal my relative lack of religiosity. He prayed every morning, bowing before God before reading from the Quran. How could I compare?
Spiritually lost and confused, I sought out the rabbi at my college. Did dating someone in another faith group invalidate my Judaism? I asked him. Was it even worse that my partner was Muslim? Instead of answering my question, in true Jewish fashion, the rabbi posed a question back to me: Why should dating someone of another religion make me any less of a Jew?
