Should I Stay Or Should I Go? Young Women Professionals And Jewish Organizations

By REBECCA METZGER

I am twenty-four years old and, after two years of working at a Jewish organization, I have sworn to myself that I will never work at another. I admit that I needed to leave my first job out of college partly to have a comparison for my experience. Yet at the same time that I left, a rash of my young female friends—all women in their 20s and 30s dedicated to the Jewish community through their synagogue affiliations, ritual life, activist and volunteer work—left their jobs at Jewish organizations and pledged never to return.

I don't think it's a coincidence. Many of us have subsequently chosen non-profit jobs, so it's not the non-profit work environment in general that we rejected but the Jewish one in particular. Why?

It isn't easy to write this, especially for a Jewish publication. I fear being confrontational and over critical. I don't want to betray my old workplace. I want to protect myself. So do all the young Jewish women I spoke to while gathering material for this article who asked me to keep their stories anonymous. Our silence, however, will only contribute to the continuation of the problem.

The Glass Ceiling

Jewish organizations are overwhelmingly staffed by young women whose prospects for being promoted are not high. Statistics reveal that only two out of 40 major national Jewish organizations are headed by women while 51 percent of secular foundations have women CEOs ("New initiative aims to advance women," JTA, 10/12/00).

But it's not just that the "glass ceiling" is keeping women out of top executive positions. There are a limited number of staff positions at most non-profits. In addition to the fact that executive staff don't tend to move on quickly, there are very few middle management positions. Many young women at non-profits find that there is no chance for promotion, no matter how hard they work. The glass ceiling exists for these women because of their gender and their age.

When I interviewed for my prior job, I had recently graduated from college. I asked if there was any chance for advancement if I stayed at the organization. The answer was "No." I would be given good recommendations to move laterally but the organization could not accommodate me beyond a few years. The reality was that there were no middle management positions within the organization to which I could advance. The message was that there was no future for me as a young woman in the Jewish workplace.

Once I started work, no one took me under his or her wing or nurtured me as a potential future leader within the community. No one seemed to take an interest in what the Jewish community could provide for me or what I could provide for it. The work I did could have been performed by a non-Jew for all that my Jewish identity was called upon.

One woman I spoke to who left her job at a Jewish organization in exchange for a for-profit job, said that down the line, she planned on returning as an executive for a Jewish non-profit. After four years without a promotion, however, she felt that she had to leave the Jewish organization to further develop her skills. In her mid-30s, this woman sits on the boards of several Jewish organizations but there is no career path for her within the Jewish community.

Continuity Money

As a young employee at a Jewish non-profit, I often worked 50-hour weeks, was paid a barely livable wage, and received no overtime compensation. Jewish organizations are no different in this respect than other non-profits. What irks me is how much this contradicts the Jewish community's combined emphasis on "continuity" and on raising money. When Jewish organizations plan benefits for young Jews and charge admission prices that exceed $100, who is expected to show up? Certainly not someone like me who worked at a Jewish non-profit.

Do such price choices reflect an interest only in those whose career tracks as doctors, lawyers, bankers and business people outside of the Jewish communal structure might make them the future philanthropists of the Jewish community? Does the Jewish community really prefer young people to make money and become lay people rather than to contribute their creativity as professionals in the community? Are Jewish organizations more interested in raising money than in acknowledging the realities that many young people can't afford $100 tickets?

A Jewish artist used to attend the young membership meetings at my former work place. She continually voiced objections to the exorbitant pricing of events, suggesting that tiered prices be offered. After months of her opinions being dismissed, she ceased her involvement in the group and returned to do her work in a non-Jewish environment. Without money to contribute to Jewish organizations, what options are there for young Jews to get involved?

There is a lot of lip service paid to the importance of young people in the Jewish community, but this is not translated into involving young, non-wealthy Jews nor in treating young staff at Jewish organizations as valuable resources. I remember sitting at a meeting at my old job while the executive staff wondered aloud how to involve more young Jews in the organization and never once solicited my opinion. I spoke up at that meeting, noting that three young Jewish women sat around that table. For the first time—and one of the only times while I worked there—the senior staff asked us about the Jewish activities that personally interested us. When I hear the word "continuity," I don't feel like I or the artist I mentioned are being counted in the ranks of eligible young Jews. As a community we need to count all young people in, whether it's money or ideas that they have to offer.

This article originally appeared in Journeys, published by Ma'yan: The Jewish Women's Project of the JCC of Manhattan.