It\u2019s rare to find a Jew who hasn\u2019t heard of JDate. Responsible for bringing countless members of the community together in matrimony, a whole generation of young people has grown up taking photos for upload to its hallowed webpages. But 20-something Jews, permanently attached to their cellphones as are most millennials, have many other options now for finding \u201cthe one.\u201d Aside from actually meeting people face-to-face (G-d forbid), phone apps are being touted as the way forward.<\/p>\n
The apps attempt to connect an array of Jewish singletons \u2013 if you both \u201clike\u201d each other, then you can chat. The market leaders, more established JSwipe and new kid on the block Jfiix, promise to connect you with \u201ccool, young and mobile Jewish singles.\u201d As someone who fits these criteria (it\u2019s cool to label yourself cool, right?), I\u2019m here to explain why I don\u2019t believe they\u2019ll achieve their aim. Having lived in London, Toronto and Vancouver, I\u2019ll do this with the help of both personal insight and that of various Jewish young professionals in all three cities.<\/p>\n
First, there\u2019s the geography aspect \u2013 Jewish dating apps all aim to introduce you to other Jews. Thanks smartphones, but that\u2019s not actually a problem we have. Anyone can tell you how Jews (and other ethnic groups) cluster together in most cities. Simply check out the suburb of Thornhill in Toronto or Golders Green in London if you don\u2019t believe me. In Vancouver, with a Jewish community that a good friend comments is \u201chalf a block\u201d wide, it\u2019s not difficult to find members of the tribe. We do, after all, have a shared interest in hobbies such as eating and gossiping \u2013 where we find out that supposed strangers are often third or fourth cousins.<\/p>\n
This closeness is usually a positive: even if you\u2019re unfamiliar with the specific community or country, Jews, in my experience, excel at inclusivity and making newbies feel welcome. But when it comes to dating apps, it leads to a problem that\u2019s twofold. If you do live in a Jewish area, chances are that you\u2019ll already know other Jews from synagogue, Hebrew school, Birthright or friends of friends. In response to my questioning, a friend in London summed up the issue: \u201cJewish dating apps are great to keep your parents and grandparents happy, but you end up just swiping left to everyone, as you know them or they\u2019re your best friend\u2019s ex.\u201d So, when you live in densely saturated Jewish areas, mobile apps are needless. And, when you don\u2019t, they aren\u2019t helpful either. One Vancouverite I spoke to, who goes to university in Halifax, remarked, \u201cIn my limited East Coast experience, there\u2019s no one on Jewish dating apps. Everyone who shows up is from the States.\u201d It\u2019s little surprise that he set up a profile with Tinder, a similar app but one that\u2019s open to all religions.<\/p>\n
This leads me to the second problem with Jewish dating apps: the apps themselves. Certainly, critiques can be leveled at any and all such platforms. One Ontario-based law student refuses to download dating apps, full stop, arguing that people\u2019s profiles are so \u201cplanned\u201d and \u201ccalculated.\u201d True, the information you put about yourself on dating apps is mostly limited to a line-long bio and several photos, and everyone tries to look their most cultured, well-traveled self in photos. Not only does everyone start to look like clone-like serial vacationers, but it means images, not personality, inevitably end up being the deciding factor in choosing dates.<\/p>\n
Jewish apps have somewhat tried to sideline this prioritization of looks with \u201cJewish preference\u201d tools. JSwipe, for instance, lets you select preferred options for being matched up: you can choose between kosher or not, as well as denominations from Orthodox to Reform to \u201cwilling to convert.\u201d This is a pretty rudimentary way of sifting through Jewish singles when you compare it with the fact that people used to put some actual thought into matchmaking those who might work well as a couple. A graduate in Toronto lamented that \u201ceveryone\u2019s stopped trying to set up other friends with mutual friends because swipe-based dating apps have become the new thing.\u201d The new thing they are, but a new thing that\u2019s being adopted reluctantly.<\/p>\n
Why? I attribute this, in part, to an image problem. The apps aren\u2019t appealingly designed and are more than a little cringe-worthy. Unlike other dating apps with more casual connotations (Tinder) or novel niches (Coffee Meets Bagel), Jewish ones are severely lacking the trendy factor. In my experience, this was because they didn\u2019t seem fun or relaxed, and they certainly didn\u2019t seem like they\u2019d lead to the exciting adventure that dating surely should be. In short: they seemed to be full of people who felt like they \u201chad to\u201d find a Jew. And, depressingly enough, it was difficult to distinguish between whether this hint of dutiful desperation could be attributed to themselves, their parents or even their grandparents.<\/p>\n
This is why, for many, the apps are a good idea in theory, but less so in practice. The focus on Judaism implies that if two people\u2019s religious beliefs match up, then they\u2019re clearly compatible. This neglects vital questions such as, \u201cIs this person actually nice?\u201d and \u201cDo we have anything in common bar religion?\u201d And I\u2019d go so far as to say that sticking steadfastly to dating Jews means sticking to your comfort zone, as you\u2019ll likely be from a similar background. But what are your 20s for if not to date people from other walks of life? At worst, dating vastly different people can highlight what you don\u2019t want in a relationship. At best, you\u2019ll gain life experience and learn a ton about different cultures. I say this as someone with a dating history that includes Christians and Muslims, but who, at the end of the day, would love to settle down with someone Jewish.<\/p>\n
What doesn\u2019t help in this regard is being warned before a first date with a non-Jew, \u201cYou can\u2019t marry him\u201d (thanks, Dad). Any young person will tell you that the more a rule is enforced, the more you want to rebel against it. It\u2019s no different when it comes to dating. Ask pretty much any young Jew and they\u2019ll attest to the pressure we feel from family and community to settle down with a Jewish spouse. It\u2019s easy to joke about, but the joke\u2019s on them when the pressure pushes us away. The burden is too much, too soon. But, Dad, and other parents, just because we experiment in our 20s doesn\u2019t mean we don\u2019t want a Jewish household. I\u2019m sure I will have one eventually \u2013 well, we can pray, for my dad\u2019s sake. And you know the guy in Halifax who traded a Jewish app for Tinder? He noted, \u201cMy bio has Hebrew in it, so I guess there\u2019s a subconscious hope that it\u2019ll attract Jews?\u201d<\/p>\n
Parents, have faith that we\u2019ll come around and maybe, just maybe, we\u2019ll do it without having to resort to mildly dire religion-specific dating apps.<\/p>\n
Rebecca Shapiro<\/strong> is a freelance journalist, amateur photographer and blogger at thethoughtfultraveller.com. A recent politics graduate, she manages to maintain bases in London, Vancouver and Toronto, while focusing a disproportionate amount of time planning new adventures. She has been published in the<\/em> Times (U.K.), <\/em>Huffington Post (U.K.),<\/em> That\u2019s Shanghai (China) and<\/em> ELLE Canada.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It\u2019s rare to find a Jew who hasn\u2019t heard of JDate. Responsible for bringing countless members of the community together in matrimony, a whole generation of young people has grown up taking photos for upload to its hallowed webpages. But 20-something Jews, permanently attached to their cellphones as are most millennials, have many other options […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":19537,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10],"tags":[5937,5938,1594,5788,5936],"class_list":["post-19545","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-op-ed","tag-apps","tag-continuity","tag-dating","tag-jfiix","tag-jswipe"],"blocksy_meta":{"styles_descriptor":{"styles":{"desktop":"","tablet":"","mobile":""},"google_fonts":[],"version":8}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19545","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=19545"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/19545\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/19537"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=19545"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=19545"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jewishindependent.ca\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=19545"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}