In August 2022, I walked into Temple Shalom of Northwest Arkansas and announced "I'm not Jewish, but I would like to be." It had taken me nearly two years to get here. I had decided to convert during the COVID-19 pandemic, in Berryville, a town of about 5,000. As you can imagine, there were not a lot of resources available. After about six months of listening to podcasts and reading things online, I made contact with the rabbi at Congregation Etz Chaim, a synagogue over an hour away from my house. The drive time didn't matter much, since they were mostly still meeting online, but the next summer, the congregation dissolved, due to lack of attendance.
This was how I found my way to Temple Shalom, also over an hour drive from my house, though in a different direction. The members of the synagogue were happy to have me and jumped to share any resources they could, from the temple library to showing me to how find an Introduction to Judaism class online. Online because, as they warned me, they weren't particularly well-equipped for conversion students. It was a small community, and they expected their visiting rabbi about once a month from out of state. In short, we don't have a lot of Jews in Northwest Arkansas. What we do have a lot of, surprisingly, are converts.
My first few visits, I met two other potential converts, and shortly after high holidays, a third showed up. Soon, it seemed that every other person I spoke to at Temple Shalom was part of our rapidly growing group, and by the time the rabbi arrived to meet with us in October, we had fourteen names on the considering conversion list.
To be fair, we've lost a few along the way. At our most recent meeting, we had just over half that number. And yet, over the last year we have collectively attended high holidays, the Passover Seder, and the Purim carnival. We've played majong and Jewish D&D. We've learned how to make challah and hamentaschen. We've counted the omer, lit Chanukah candles, and we're planning a late night Torah study for Shavout. Anyone attending service on a Friday night can expect to see at least five or six of us, and we're often the last to leave. We've been known to stand in the parking lot, even in the dead of winter, having one last talmudic discussion before saying our final goodbyes. In short, we've become a staple of the community.
And our community responded. This little synagogue, with its visiting rabbi, that doesn't typically have conversions, is preparing for several, which may happen all at once. Right now, this involves putting together an online group, so we can all communicate more regularly, with each other, and with the rabbi. Later, it will involve logistical planning, likely including a two-hour group trip to the nearest mikvah.
I am told our group is uncommon. And while I don't have any other experience to judge by, I suppose it is odd that eight or ten people living in the same area independently decided to convert to Judaism within a few months of each other. As an additional potential oddity, I would like to add that none of us seem to have Jewish partners. I started openly pursuing conversion at the same time I was preparing for my wedding, but rather than one being the cause of the other, these two life changes were coincidence. Two of the other members of my cohort have mentioned girlfriends, neither of whom are Jewish or converting, but both of whom are highly supportive. I've met one of them, as she sometimes attends service, but the rest of us typically arrive solo.
But coming by ourselves does not mean we're in this alone. We're sharing books and podcasts with one another, and having discussions like: What it does it mean to keep shabbat and make it separate from other days of the week? What is our intention behind keeping kosher or wearing a kippah? And how to do we discuss our new religion with our families and co-workers? For many of us, the answers to each of these questions will differ, but the very Jewish practice of discussing them collectively is often how we reach said answers. I cannot imagine a better way to convert.
When I first began to consider conversion, almost three years ago, the task looked insurmountable, but I guess you could say God made it happen. In short, there may not be a lot of Jews here, but we're about to get a whole lot more, and I am so very proud to be one of them.
