So, walking around downtown Evanston, IL, the other day (a Friday, I believe), two boys (probably 12-14 and 10-12) were walking a little faster than me in the same direction. They were wearing traditional orthodox garb and the younger one was carrying a leather satchel. The older one asked me the titular question, I responded in the negative, he said thanks and they walked into a building a few steps later.
Any idea what that was about? Did I pass up my chance to get in on the International Jewish Conspiracy?
They were probably Chabad Lubavitch. Their goal is basically to get Jews to become more observant. If you’re male and you respond in the affirmative, they generally invite you into their “mitzvah tank” (bus) to lay tefillin and pray. If you’re female, they give you candles (lighting the Shabbat candles at home on a Friday night is a mitzvah associated with women).
They’re not interested in converting non-Jews to Judaism, which is why they asked you if you were Jewish and then left you alone after you said no.
The Mitzvah Tank guys got me once in Greenwich Village (which was pretty hilarious because I was walking with a Puerto Rican friend, speaking Spanish, and they still picked me out). They asked if I was Jewish, and when I replied, “Sort of - what do you mean?” (I’m totally nonobservant.) The older guy laughed and said that was very Jewish, to answer a question with a question.
Then they talked me into hopping into the Mitzvah Tank. I was curious, so I went. They tried to give me a lulav and etrog and get me to repeat a prayer after them in Hebrew (it was near Sukkot). I declined.
You know what an easy way to get teenage Orthodox boys to blush is? Be 18 years old and female, and smile and look them in the eye.
I don’t think they were Mitzvah Tankers, because you would have probably seen the Tank nearby. I grew up in Evanston and still spend a fair bit of time there, and have never run into those guys.
Next time just say yes and make the Vulcan peace sign. They’ll hand you an envelope with some money in it. If they ask more questions tell them you have to leave immediately because your mother is waiting dinner on you.
I used to live in an area with a very high orthodox Jewish population–my apartment was actually right across from a Jewish school, so I saw kids in the traditional garb quite often. Once I was walking home with my boyfriend of the time when some kids of a similar age range to the ones you described asked said boyfriend the same question. He WAS Jewish, but of a decidedly atheist/agnostic bent, and I think he told them yes, but no thanks. I’m pretty sure they were also trying to get him to be more observant, although I can’t remember the details of the conversation. I thought they were a bit rude because they completely ignored me! Didn’t even say hello.
It happened once when my wife and I were walking in Brooklyn. We said we were, but were atheists. A very friendly discussion ensued. When it became clear we were not interested in becoming observant, they politely thanked us and we all went on our ways.
On the opposite tack, one of my sons is a blue-eyed blond. (Both my wife and I have blonds in our families, so this is not especially noteworthy.) At a bus stop in Boston a woman asked him if he was Irish. He said “No”. She persisted. He finally told her: “Lady, as far as is known every ancestor of mine has been Ashkenazy Jewish and none has ever set foot in Ireland.” She still persisted, but he ignored her.
Once in my teens I was accosted on a Manhattan street by a couple of Lubavitchers giving off an unhealthy air of fanaticism. I declined the invitation to enter their van. Their brand of proselytizing may not be as bad as those who attempt to convert all comers, but it’s still obnoxious.
I’ve always liked the Lubavitchers. The local Lubavitcher rabbi is familiar with my parents. When I was in school, I’d be periodically walking down the street on campus and hear in the distance, “Johnny! Johnny Bravo! How are you!? Tell your mother I said hello!” and turn to see a short fat man in black running after me, holding his hat on with one hand.
One time he gave me a menorah, and when I protested that I already had one he waved me off and told me to just give it to a friend who needed one.
