When Carly Minsky posted on social media something about her decision not to have children, one person put in the comments: “Hitler wins.”
“This is a horrendous and dangerous way try to coax people into having children,” says Carly, adding that while no one has said anything like this to her face, when she tells people in person she doesn’t have children, “there isn’t necessarily judgement, but there is awkwardness, as I’m not doing what is expected in a community which is so focused on family and the next generation.
“People don’t always want to engage. They see me as less important, not relevant. It’s painful for people who want to have children and can’t and also for people like me, who choose not to.”
Carly says she knew from a young age that she didn’t want to become a mother. “There’s never been a point in my life when I have ever considered parenthood. I’m a very active aunt to my niece and nephew, but there is an absence of desire [to have my own children].”
Her partner, Josh Moritz, says that he is “child-free by circumstance and by choice”, and that while he would have considered becoming a father, “I’m in love with Carly, and my relationship with her takes priority over having kids”.
The north London-based couple, who are in their late 30s, said their decision not to have children began to affect their social life several years ago. “We had a very active Jewish social life but began to feel really out of sync and very out of place with our peers, who were all having kids,” says Carly.
Both had grown up in shul-going families (Carly, Hadley Wood United, Josh, Menorah Reform in Manchester), Jewish youth movements and were very involved with Jewish student life and Limmud, which was where they met.
“The Jewish community was integral to both of us, and [our decision not to have children] was our first point of divergence away from the norm,” says Josh.
Deciding to seek community outside of Jewish circles, the couple joined non-Jewish communes in Spain and later Devon. “They were like kibbutz but more temporary, and there wasn’t a shared mission or industry. The aim of them was to live as a community, to cook and eat together,” says Carly.
At the time, both of them were able to work remotely – Carly in communications and Josh as a psychotherapist, who also practises in person.
However, they felt that with Judaism being absent from communal living, “something was missing”, says Carly.
But deciding to return to the UK – and to the Jewish community – also meant deciding to push for change for people who, for whatever reason, also didn’t have children.
“This started to feel urgent for us,” says Carly. “We needed to address questions such as: ‘How will we fit in?’, ‘What will our future look like?’, ‘How can we engage in Judaism if we aren’t part of a nuclear family?’”
The first step was to find people who were in a similar situation to themselves, and in mid-September, they launched The Jewish Non-Parent Network.
In the first week, they were contacted by 60 people, 50 of whom signed up as members. As far as they are aware, their group is the only one of its kind in the world. “We have received so many messages from Jewish people in the US and Israel, saying that this kind of group needs to exist there,” says Josh.
Carly says the group is for “the full spectrum” of Jewish people without children. “This could be someone has had fertility difficulties, a single person who only wants to have children with a partner, but hasn’t found someone, someone who is child-free by choice, or a bereaved parent, although this is more complex as some bereaved parents might not consider themselves non-parents.”
One of the aims of the group is to create intergenerational connections, and, says Josh, they are “really pleased” the network has attracted people who range in age from 30 to people in their 70s. “Some members might not necessarily have those connections in their lives, so we would love to feel that from this group, they have found their chosen intergenerational family and community.”
They also hope the group can advocate for Jewish people without children to have greater visibility in shul life. “Often in a community, it’s at barmitzvahs and baby blessings where people wish one another mazel tov. But where are the opportunities to celebrate people without children?” says Carly. “How about celebrating life events not related to life cycles? For example, if someone publishes a book or finishes renovating their home?”
She would also like shul leaders to “think more broadly about who counts”. Looking ahead to her niece’s batmitzvah, she is expecting the rabbi to congratulate the parents and the grandparents. “They probably won’t mention the aunt, but it would mean the world to me if they did. There just isn't a culture of that.”
“If someone is 30-plus, but pre-retirement age and doesn’t have children, they often say: ‘I used to be involved in my shul activities, but I can’t go anymore,’”
Likewise, when someone dies, “there is no culture in Judaism where condolences are offered to their best friend. I would love to open a conversation with rabbis about broadening our thinking on who matters.”
When it comes to Jewish rituals around death, Josh says that both of them are already thinking about ageing and end of life. “How will care happen? Who will sit shiva and who will say Kaddish? How do people without children fit into this?”
People who have joined the group have commented that at festivals, they often don’t have anywhere to go as meals are set up for families. “And when you are invited, it can feel that you are the add-on, the pity invite,” says Carly.
One way to address this would be by having more communal meals in synagogues, such as for break fasts after Yom Kippur. “How easy would it be to just have bagels ready after the service, so people aren’t in a position where they don’t have anyone to break the fast with,” suggests Carly.
In fact, Carly and Josh feel that much of synagogue programming – with its focus primarily on families, young professionals and retirees - doesn’t take non-parents into account. “If someone is 30-plus, but pre-retirement age and doesn’t have children, they often say: ‘I used to be involved in my shul activities, but I can’t go anymore,’” says Carly.
The attention given to procreation also finds its place on the pulpit, says Josh, who describes sermons as frequently being “parent-centric”, adding: “When we talk about ‘Jewish continuity, does that mean pro-creation or can we think of it more broadly? Can rabbis ask themselves: ‘Does my sermon alienate people?’
“And even terminology, such as ‘Please Gd by you’ – these kind of micro-moments can feel alienating, when they’re not intended to.”
Above all, they hope that their new group will get people – including communal leaders – talking about how to make people without children feel more part of the Jewish community.
They have already had interest from Progressive clergy and hope that Orthodox leaders might express similar concerns about the issue. “We want to be able to have an open conversation. This is the antidote to judgment and silence.”
For more information on The Jewish non-Parent Network, go to jewishnonparents.org.uk/ or click here
To follow the network’s activities on Instagram, go to: @jewishnonparents
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