In my religion, the most solemn day of the year is set aside every autumn for spiritual renewal, deep reflection and collective starvation. Yom Kippur is a grueling and emotional day, usually spent in a synagogue, that brings us together to ask for forgiveness and ignore our thirst. Growing up in the dense hub of the East Coast, I experienced this yearly ritual as something inherited and inflexible. My identity and my faith were defined as much …