What People Say About Orthodox Jews: Myths, Questions & Real Conversations

Over the years of running this website, I have received hundreds of emails, comments, and messages from people all over the world who are curious about Orthodox Jewish life. Nurses, college students, neighbors who live next to frum families, coworkers who want to understand their Orthodox Jewish colleagues. The questions they ask are honest, sometimes awkward, and almost always well-intentioned.

One email that has stayed with me came from Christina Soranno, a nursing student at Walden University, who was working on an academic cultural profile about Orthodox Jews. She wrote: "I live down the street from a Rabbinical College and there are several Orthodox Jewish families in my neighborhood. I do not know any of them and to be honest I am not the best at meeting new people. But I have always been interested and curious."

That email captures exactly why I started this website. There are millions of people like Christina — people who live near us, work beside us, and want to understand us, but do not know where to begin. Christina and her colleague Kim Sondey went on to write a full academic paper based on their research and conversations with me, proving that when you open a door and invite people in, real understanding follows.

So let me address the things people actually say and ask about Orthodox Jews.

"They Seem So Isolated and Backwards"

This is probably the most common misconception, and it stings a little every time I hear it. People see our clothing, our separate communities, our Yiddish-accented English, and they assume we are stuck in the eighteenth century.

The truth is far more nuanced. Orthodox Jews are doctors, lawyers, business owners, nurses, therapists, accountants, and software engineers. We serve in every professional field. We use technology (within boundaries we set for ourselves). We are aware of the world around us. We choose to live differently, not because we do not know any better, but because we believe the Torah offers a better way.

There is a difference between being isolated and being intentional. We are intentional about what we let into our homes and our minds. That is not backwardness. That is discipline.

"Do They Use Modern Medicine?"

This question comes up constantly in healthcare settings, and I understand why. Nurses and doctors need to know whether their Orthodox Jewish patients will accept medical treatment.

The answer is unequivocal: yes. Not only do we use modern medicine, but Jewish law actually requires it. The Torah commands us to guard our health (v'nishmartem me'od l'nafshoseichem). Refusing medical treatment when your life is in danger is not piety — it is a violation of halacha.

And here is something that surprises many people: if a Jewish person is seriously ill or in danger, Shabbat is not just allowed to be broken — it is required to be broken. You must call an ambulance. You must drive to the hospital. You must do whatever is necessary to save a life. This principle is called pikuach nefesh, and it overrides virtually every other commandment in the Torah.

The Talmud says it plainly: "Desecrate one Shabbat for a person so that they may live to observe many Shabbatot."

So if you are a healthcare professional caring for an Orthodox Jewish patient, please know that we are your partners in healing. We want the best medical care available. We may have some specific requests — kosher food, privacy for prayer, sensitivity around Shabbat for non-emergency matters — but we will never refuse life-saving treatment.

"Are the Women Oppressed?"

If I had a dollar for every time someone assumed Orthodox Jewish women are oppressed, I could fund a very nice kiddush.

Let me be direct: Orthodox Jewish women are the heart of the home. The Hebrew word for this is akeres habayis, which literally means the foundation of the house. Without the woman, the entire structure collapses. That is not oppression. That is the most important role in the family.

Do we have different roles than men? Yes. Men and women have distinct responsibilities in Jewish law. Men are obligated in certain time-bound commandments — like wearing tefillin and praying three times daily at specific times — that women are exempt from. But exemption is not exclusion. Many women choose to take on additional spiritual practices, and they are praised for it.

The women in my community are strong, educated, opinionated, and deeply respected. Many run businesses, manage large households, teach in schools, and lead charitable organizations. The idea that covering your hair or dressing modestly makes you oppressed is a misunderstanding of what empowerment actually means.

"What One Jew Does Reflects on All Jews"

This is something that many people outside our community do not realize, but it is deeply embedded in Jewish consciousness. We believe that what one Jew does affects the entire Jewish people. When a Jewish person behaves badly in public, the community feels the shame. When a Jewish person does something extraordinary, the community shares the pride.

This is not just social pressure. It is a theological reality rooted in the concept of kol yisrael arevim zeh bazeh — all of Israel is responsible for one another. We are one body. When one part hurts, the whole body feels it.

This is why you will often see Orthodox Jews being extremely careful about their behavior in public. The way we conduct business, the way we treat service workers, the way we drive — all of it matters, because we know that people are watching and forming impressions not just about us as individuals, but about Jews as a whole.

"How Should I Interact with Orthodox Jewish Neighbors or Colleagues?"

Christina Soranno's academic paper highlighted something important that I want to share: unlike many other cultures, you are not expected to become like us in order to work with us or live near us. It would be more accepted to acknowledge the differences and respect them.

Here is what that looks like in practice:

Do not be offended if an Orthodox Jewish man does not shake your hand. If you are a woman, an Orthodox man may decline a handshake. This is not rudeness. It is a religious boundary around physical contact between men and women who are not related. Simply smile and nod, and move on. No one is offended.

Respect Shabbat timing. If your Orthodox neighbor or colleague cannot attend a Saturday event, it is not personal. Shabbat begins Friday at sundown and ends Saturday night. During that time, we do not work, drive, or use electronics. Planning important meetings or events for other times is deeply appreciated.

Food matters. We keep kosher, which means we cannot eat food that has not been prepared according to Jewish dietary laws. If you want to bring a gift, sealed kosher-certified packaged food is always safe. Do not be hurt if we politely decline your homemade cookies — it is the kashrus, not the thought.

Ask questions. Honestly, most Orthodox Jews are happy to explain our practices. We would rather you ask than assume. The only thing we ask is that the questions come from genuine curiosity, not judgment.

"Why Do They Have So Many Rules?"

This one makes me smile, because from the outside, I understand how it looks. Do not eat this, do not wear that, do not work on this day, pray at this time, wash your hands this way. It can seem suffocating.

But here is how it feels from the inside: the rules create freedom. That sounds paradoxical, but it is true. When you know exactly what is expected of you — when you have a clear framework for how to eat, how to speak, how to treat people, how to spend your time — you are freed from the exhausting daily negotiations that consume so much energy in secular life. What should I eat? What should I wear? What matters? We already know. And that clarity is liberating.

The 613 commandments are not a cage. They are a structure, like the frame of a house. Without the frame, you just have a pile of lumber. With it, you have a home.

Why I Built This Website

I built this website because of people like Christina, Kim, and the hundreds of others who reached out over the years. People who live next door to us and want to understand. People who care for us in hospitals and want to do it right. People who work with us and want to be respectful.

The gap between Orthodox Jews and the rest of the world is not a gap of hostility. It is a gap of information. Most misconceptions about us come not from malice but from simply not knowing. And the only cure for not knowing is someone being willing to explain.

That is what I try to do here. I am not a rabbi. I am not a scholar. I am a Hasidic Jewish woman, a wife, a mother, and someone who believes that when you let people in, when you answer their questions honestly and without defensiveness, the walls come down.

Every email I receive, every question someone is brave enough to ask, every student who writes an academic paper about us instead of relying on stereotypes — that is the whole point. That is why this website exists.

You do not have to agree with how we live. But I hope, after reading this, you understand it a little better. And if you have a question I did not answer here, you know where to find me.