Rabbinical Student as Medical Clown

A Clown Studying to be a Rabbi

My clown name when I'm in the States is Eloise Bumble-Bees, but that doesn't translate so well into Hebrew. When I asked some clowns here in Jerusalem what my clown name should be they said “Shoshana!” We settled on Shoshke.

Shoshke the Clown is a slightly different than Eloise. She doesn't talk nearly as much – it's hard to be in clown brain when I'm trying to speak Hebrew, or my non-existent Arabic for that matter. So Shoshke uses a lot of physical humor, facial expressions, basic mime, and gibberish.
 She also slips out of clown character  occasionally in the hospital – something Eloise hardly ever does. In Israel, because the clowns are on staff, they speak as their adult selves frequently with the nurses and doctors, sometimes even taking off their noses for a minute.   Perhaps because of this dynamic, I'm introduced to the staff, and sometimes even parents, as Shoshke, a clown from Boston who is here studying to be a rabbi.

As you can imagine, this is not the kind of introduction that lets me stay totally in clown. People are curious about my rabbinic training,  where I'm studying, what kind of Jew I am ( the easiest way to describe that is reform, which means something different in Israel than it does in the States). Most people have been delighted to meet a rabbi/clown. Except for that one doctor who said in Hebrew “Well that's appropriate, because reform rabbis are clowns."  And a good day to you too, Doctor.

Magical Moments

Shoshana and her mom, Joyce Friedman
(Frizzle Lucille the Clown) are both members
of Hearts & Noses Hospital Clown Troupe in Boston.

A doctor asked me and and my clown partner to visit a 7-year old English-speaking boy who was having trouble walking.    During the visit, we pulled out bubbles – a phenomenal clowning tool, unfortunately not allowed in most hospitals in the States. As we began to blow the bubbles, the boy got out of bed and started popping them one by one, jabbing the air with his right index finger. "Can you use your other hand?" we asked him. He took up the challenge, and started laughing and smiling as he tried to pop bubbles in different directions around the room. "Can you use your feet?" we asked him. And he began to kick at the bubbles. The doctors were in the room, and they and the parents were able to see this child playing, coordinating his movements  and using both of his legs.

We were asked to keep the same boy company during a blood test.  When we came in the room, he was worriedly looking at the needle, and no blood was coming out.  My partner brought out her feather duster, and started asking the boy who needed to be cleaned, and where on their body needed it most. As he directed us, he was distracted and relaxed, and the blood started coming out easily.

We entered a room with two babies in it.  I started clowning for a down syndrome Palestinian baby boy.  He was fussing and uncomfortable, with an oxygen tube in his nose. His young mother was cooing and trying to keep him calm and happy. I pulled out my ukulele and started fingerpicking softly. The baby locked eyes with me. I knelt down, and kept the eye contact.  The baby brought his face very close to my face. I gently bumped his forehead with mine, and he smiled. As I kept playing he went in and out of fussing and smiling.  At one point he stood up in his mom's lap and flapped his arms up and down the way babies do when they're dancing to music.  "You are having a romance here!" my clown partner said. When the doctor came in to check on him, I maneuvered my way next to the crib, keeping as much calming eye connection as I could during the check up.  The doctor was totally fine with my being there. It is part of the culture of the hospital.

At the end of our visit, a woman asked us to visit her grown husband in the adult floor -- not a very common request. He was getting over some kind of injury, and we followed him while his doctor had him climb up a few stairs and back down.   Gold stars all around. He was the winner! The Olympics have never been so exciting.

Hebrew College Rabbinical Student, Shoshana
Friedman, as Eloise Bumble-Bees

On Thursday of this week I went to clown in Kfar Saba with two clowns I met at the International Conference on Medicine and Medical Clowning in October. We visited a room with two mothers  -- one Jewish Orthodox, and one Palestinian Muslim. They each had a newborn baby girl. We spent over half an hour with them,  massaging their backs with a back roller, playing ukulele, cooing over the babies, engaging them in conversation.  The women, both 29, were excited to share an age with me and with each other.  They were curious about each other's lives and religions, and spoke animatedly in Hebrew.  We talked about the names of the babies and all generally enjoyed each other's company until it was time to go. It was like the Palestinian-Israeli conflict had melted away.

Shoshana Friedman is a Hebrew College rabbinical student, Wexner Graduate Fellow, and a medical clown with Hearts and Noses Hospital Clown Troupe in Boston.  She is currently studying at the Conservative Yeshiva in Jerusalem, and volunteering in Israel with the world renowned Dream Doctors/רופאי חלום at Mt. Scopus Hospital.

In an attempt to bring together medical clowning and the rabbinate, Shoshana led a workshop called "Play in the Pulpit:  Integrating Curiosity & Spontaneity in the Rabbinate" at the Wexner Graduate Fellowship in January 2012.  She hopes to offer more workshops in the States next year.  Shoshana can be contacted at shoshana.m.friedman@gmail.com.