  The following is taken from my friend and classmate,  Joel Nickerson, 's page. nbsp;  He,  along with a bunch of my other classmates went to the&
nbsp; Kotel after our service at HUC. nbsp;  From what I hear it was an overwhelming and somewhat negative experience due to the thousands of people ( mostly orthodox) nbsp;
 I didn't go with them in anticipation of that situation. nbsp;  I have yet to go to the wall since I've gotten here and wasn't about to reapproach it on a night like that. nbsp;  In any case,  Joel gives great description and insight.
 " From this distance,  you can start to see just how many people were there.  An estimated 8, 000 came to the Kotel tonight to pray.  The place is divided into a men and women's section and both sections were overflowing with people.
 As I stood there looking out at the Kotel and the mass of people,  I actually began to feel a little nervous and uncomfortable.  I felt as if I was an outsider in some way.  Not that I didn't belong there as a Jew,  but that this was not the type of Judaism I know and love.  A group of us walked down (
through the airport- type security)  and descended into the men's section.  It was packed with 'black hats' -  the charedim ( ultra-
orthodox)  who were sitting and standing in groups praying and reading Eicha.  There I was in my jeans and green T- shirt and feeling completely out of place physically and mentally.  The other Joel couldn't handle it at all and went to the plaza area behind the split sections to sit and wait for me to come out of the men's area.  I walked around for awhile,
 standing in certain places and listening to the various styles and energy levels of prayer.  I walked up close to the wall and decided that I would come back when it wasn't so packed in order to actually have a private moment there.  But I have mixed feelings about the Kotel as well.  There we were,  thousands of us Jews,  praying at a wall that,
 while it has stood for millenia,  is still just a wall and in some ways,  has a feeling of idolatry linked to it.  Bowing to a wall just seems a little weird to me.  I don't know,  but I have a whole year to work this out.
 The whole experience was a combination of Jewish pride and submission.  On the one hand,  it was wonderful to be amongst thousands of other Jews from around the world.  On the other hand,  I felt as though I was outside the holiness of the place -  as though my Judaism and my lack of heart-
felt lamentation separated me from those 'holy' Jews.  I think a lot of it has to do with my own personal Jewish identity issues,  similar to many Reform Jews who find themselves amongst more religious people.  To use a sports analogy -  it's as if I'm on the team,  but I'm third string,
 so I can sit on the bench and watch everyone else play,  but I don't have the skills to be a starter.  It's something I need to get over if I want to be a productive and proficient rabbi.  Once I come to realize that my Jewish knowledge will be fine ( with good training and learning)  I will be able to teach others without them questioning whether or not I know what I'm talking about.
 This all may sound a little disjointed right now,  but that's kind of how I am right now.  It's been a long day.
