A Bar Mitzvah is the ritual every thirteen year old Jewish boy must go through. Essentially, it’s the ceremony where they become men, in the eyes of the jewish world, or at least in conservative judaism. March 20th, 2010 was that day for me. The green-stained leather of the couch feels uncomfortable against the coarse texture of my suit. My back is hunched over slightly, partially in anticipation, but mostly in fear of what is about to come. I look down at my pale hands, slightly shaking from my emotions. I feel butterflies bouncing feverishly off the walls of my stomach. My hands feel sweaty as they hold the papers for my Haftarah portion. I soon hear my cue to walk up to the podium in the middle of the stage. I quickly get up from my seat in my white oxford, black suit, and blue and black tie. Time begins to move slowly, no matter how much I want this to pass. My feet carry me over the light green carpet, faded from decades of use. My mind goes to the thoughts of failure for what seems like the millionth time today, only to be calmed by the memories of practice. I get to the podium, and carefully set my sheets containing my portion and introduction on the small wooden stand.

I start off my introduction with, “Hello, and thank you for coming to my Bar Mitzvah.”
I quickly get through my introduction, then shuffle my papers to the Haftarah portion, as the prayers before and after are on laminated sheets before me. I take a deep breath to start the prayers before. My voice is projected throughout the semi-circular room through a microphone which makes me lower my voice for a second before resuming. I quickly finish the prayers before, quickly giving myself a mental breath. My mind focuses on the wrinkled pages ahead of me. I remember all the CD’s and hours of practice devoted to this one moment. The months of hard work, studying, and arranging this whole thing was about to commence. It had become my pride and joy, as it became the focus for most of my work. It was essentially the climax of the most important day of my religious life. Yet, speaking and chanting in front of a crowd was something I never really wanted to do. It went against my nature and my demeanor in school. I quickly decide that I would not fail. I had come too far to just give up and fail now. I start the portion at a quick pace and never look back. I get about halfway through before I realize that my left leg is shaking vigorously. I continue reading while looking down wondering if anyone could see what was happening. I push the thought out of my mind and continue to read as I quickly reach the end. As I transition to the prayers after, my mind begins to relax. My body starts to feel limp as I progress even further to the end. As I finish up, my body feels like it wants to collapse and I walk towards the couches. I had finally done it. I had become a man in the eyes of the Hebrew world. Not entirely the point where I could go out and get a job, but to where I could observe the ten commandments, observe traditions that hadn’t been available to me as of now, yet do things that I didn't want to do. Looking back, it scared me, as I felt like a lost child in a new world I didn't fully understand. Yet this whole experience made me better as a person as I learned that hard work will typically pay off and I should strive to be the best I can be.