Bruce Ditman gives a very traditional Bar Mitzvah Day speech to a very untraditional recipient, our city.

It is party season in New Haven and galas abound.  Hot appetizers are passed and shoes are kicked off to better the boogie.  Twenty-five years ago this month, it was party season for me too when I went through the traditional Jewish rite-of-passage into maturity, called a Bar Mitzvah.  As a matter of fact, it was 100 years ago this month that my great grandfather did likewise, right here in New Haven.

The Bar Mitzvah marks a child’s passage into adulthood whereby they accept, before their community, all of the privileges as well as the responsibilities of being an adult.  So I wonder, with our city in transition and all these parties popping, what would New Haven’s Bar (Bat) Mitzvah be like?  And, if asked to make a speech, what would I say to the City of honor?

Hello.

First let me say Mazel Tov and Congratulations to the Bar Mitzvah and to the congregation at large. I’d like to thank you and the Rabbi for allowing me say a few words on what I know to be a very special day for all us.

I also know that this speech is all that stands between you and the reception, the fun part of the fruit of your labors with its prime rib carving station and fully loaded mashed potato bar so I will, starting now, get to my point.

Today, to the lists of great cities, we add a new member.  Today, your Bar Mitzvah day, we, your people, invite you to count yourself as fully grown.  A mature city free from the nurturing restrictions of childhood and liberated from the trivialities of adolescence.  Now you are poised to take full advantage of your new status and to build a lifetime of fulfillment, inspired leadership and a legacy for the future.

“But how will I build that future?” you may ask.

Well, New Haven, we’ve watched you grow up.  Generations of us have.  And, sure, you were a wild kid but who wasn’t. And, as you have made it clear to us today, that is a thing of the past. No longer do we think of you as our little town. Rather before us stands a model of a city poised for greatness.  So, to begin, know this: We love you and we’re very proud of you.

You are, unquestionably, special, New Haven.  You’ve excelled at Education, Commerce, Science, Sport, the Arts…Your talents and promise are obvious.  Your resources innumerable.

“So, then,” you might ask, “what’s to stop me?”

Well, I’ll say, New Haven, only you can stop you.  Only your failure to eschew the egomania of childhood and the pettiness of adolescence will limit your greatness.  You’re grown now and you will need to do hard things.  These things, whatever they are, will have real costs.  Real costs that will demand you to be deliberate without intractability and confident without arrogance as you find your way towards excellence.

To find that way you will be well reminded of Deuteronomy 16:20 which says “Tzedek, Tzedek Tirdof.” For our guests who are not up on your Hebrew this means “Justice, Justice Shall You Pursue.”  Our city has great divides, divides of race and class, divides of religion and education.  Maturity requires that we cross those bridges and pursue Justice.  That we build a city for all of us, that welcomes the stranger and feeds the hungry all while it remains vibrant, fun, smart and entertaining.

I see folks nodding off in the sanctuary and I can hear the band warming up in the hall next door (by the way they’re great – I heard them last week at Providence’s confirmation party) so I’ll wrap this up.

Before I do, New Haven, do you know the old Yiddish joke about the difference between a Schlemiel and a Schlimazel? It goes: A Schlemiel is the guy who always spills his soup.  A Schlimazel is the guy he spills it on.

The world, each country and every city in it, including you, are never short on Schlemiels.  And know this, even though they mean well (or not) or are trying hard (or not) people will fail you.  People you thought would help pave your way to success will pit it with disappointment…but that doesn’t mean you should let them spill their soup in your lap.  Be the great small city we all love and know you can be.

I’d say your future starts now but the truth is it’s has already begun.

So, New Haven, best of luck, I love you and Mazel Tov on this, your Bar Mitzvah Day.

Bruce Ditman fills his life with the things he loves which are (in no particular order): hard work, love, art, civics and bad behavior. He is divorced and lives with two hilarious kids and two deranged cattle dogs in the greatest small city in America, New Haven CT. You can reach Bruce at brucedit@gmail.com.