Number two, I’m not going to use electric candles, because, well, it just doesn’t do it for me. ![]() I anticipated this rigidity from the start: Number one, I wrote, I’m not going to pray outside, because Shabbat is to be practiced inside the home. The college suggested that I spray vinegar and orange oil around my room (because that would make for a lovely smell, of course.) From this previous experience I recalled that they’d sooner opt for a quick fix, usually a burden that the student bears, than take action themselves. During my freshman year, my room became infested with termites. This wasn’t my first clash with residence authority. Even in my condition, I still managed to spring into emergency email mode and compose my grievance. The candles disappeared with her and, almost as a physical reflex, I began to sob. She told me I could take it up with her supervisor, and that was the end of it. She wouldn’t seriously kidnap my candles on Erev Shabbat, would she? ![]() I snapped into defense mode at once and asked for a religious exemption. I looked at her, puzzled, and even almost laughed before I remembered that my college forbids them open flames are a fire hazard. Different shades of pink, one stubbier than the other, resting in my beautifully hand-painted wooden candlesticks. “I’m going to have to take these,” one of them said, holding my Shabbat candles in her hands. I was relaxed, even browsing my phone as they did it- I believed my place was clean, but I was wrong. ![]() My RAs stormed in, peering in my fridge and around my room for anything the college deems questionable.
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