Meet Annie, 23, living with her parents and younger brother. She’s got two degrees, has applied for dozens of jobs, but just can’t get hired. She feels as though her life has stalled. She’s battling to keep cheerful. She’s started avoiding Zoom catch-ups with friends.
And then there’s Ben, 25, starting out in his dream job as a business consultant. He’s bright, he’s attractive, he takes his work and his Judaism seriously. But working from home, also living with Mum and Dad — he’s not making any new friends, let alone meeting potential partners.
Who’d be a young adult in 2020? Even without the pandemic it was difficult to make that crucial leap into full adulthood. Housing costs are high, the job market is competitive, and the growth of dating apps and social media seem to have cut opportunities to actually meet people face to face.
All this is made worse by the pandemic. The current limits on socialising may be essential for public health, but they are especially hard for young people who are finished with education and need to establish new networks for themselves.
No wonder the research done by the Institute for Jewish Policy Research (JPR).points to a growing crisis in mental health among the community’s young people. This time lockdown has allowed schools and universities to stay open, but for young professionals, offices, cafés , bars and gyms slammed their doors shut again. They can’t even meet more than one friend at a time outside. It’s a lonely way to live.
The untimely death of Lord Sacks last week brought back memories for me of the 1994 Women’s Review that he set up to amplify women’s voices in the community. I was one of many who attended meetings set up to gather experiences and ideas to be distilled into a report.
As we know now, little changed immediately as a result of the Review, and that was disappointing. But before that, we were excited and happy to have the opportunity to discuss things that we would like to change. There was a feeling of empowerment that came from the process of airing our concerns, the hope that someone would listen, and a shared sense of the ludicrous gap between the way we were treated at work — independent, powerful, articulate — and the way that Orthodox Judaism saw us — passive, dependent, silent.
One of the biggest themes in the meetings I attended was the way in which single women were doubly sidelined, first by being female, second because they were not part of the conventional family unit that our community is built around. I remember women speaking movingly about the feeling of stigma attached to being single and the particular problems faced by single mothers.
The Jewish view of single people tends to focus on ending that status as soon as possible, and indeed the Review recommended setting up a free introduction service. But there was also a call for an “attitude of inclusivism”, plus the provision of community facilities and support of various kinds for “the unattached of all ages.”
What has happened to change things for young, single Jews in the last 27 years? Well, now we have dating apps with which Jews can reject eachother as future partners without even speaking. As for that “attitude of incusivism” — does it exist anywhere? In this pandemic year where are the initiatives and support systems for single people? Who is thinking creatively about young adults, how to harness their potential for the good of the community and for their own well being?
I got engaged in 1993 when I was 30, the average age then for a British woman to get married. Nowadays it is 35. Divorce rates are up too. So a Jewish community which fails to engage and support single people risks becoming ever less relevant to the people who need it the most.
Perhaps we should set up a new Review, but this time not one just for women. Give single people the opportunity to discuss what they’d like the community to provide, how they’d like things to change.
Perhaps they could talk about the provision of support networks. Maybe we need a system of mentors and buddies to help build careers? Would gym membership alongside shul fees be an attractive incentive? And isn’t it time to encourage Jewish life beyond London, given the lack of affordable housing? There’s a campaign to rescue Margate’s synagogue — how about working from home by the seaside and building a community there?
The traditional Jewish way of thinking about Annie and Ben would be to send them on a blind date (a walk in the park maybe) and hope that they’ll hit it off. But they need so much more than match-making. It’s more than time to start seeing singles as people in their own right. And if we do commission another Review, this time let’s act on its recommendations.
