On Being Jewish in America

I grew up in a middle class neighborhood on Long Island in New York. This neighborhood had a nice mix of people with different religions. Quite a few of us were Jewish, traveling to Hebrew School together during the week, meeting up at the Synagogue on Friday nights and Saturdays for services. We were the only family that kept a Kosher home, but it wasn't a big deal. My mom still hosted big dinner parties, I still ate over my friend's homes, and I didn't really think much about being Jewish. It was just what we did.

Jewish family sitting around a dinner table

Once I started public school, things began to change. The school district was mostly Christian and it ran that way. The school was always decorated for the Christian holidays. Chorus songs around the holidays were all about Christmas, with Rock of Ages thrown it as an afterthought. Jewish holidays were not school holidays so we missed school on the High Holy Days (Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur), brought matzah sandwiches for lunch during Passover, and never did any after school activities on a Friday night or those Hebrew School days.

Close up of Christmas tree on teacher's desk

Children started to see us differently. We ate strange foods, missed school for strange reasons, missed activities everyone else went to. Teachers were no help. I have a very clear memory of us complaining in Hebrew School that a major test was being given in high school math on Yom Kippur and we couldn't miss the test. The rabbi stepped in and wrote a letter to the school about the issue. The test was moved to the next day, which meant no studying the day before the test (reading and writing is not allowed on Yom Kippur) so it was still a struggle to do well on the test. The teacher actually told the class he was sorry the date had to be changed but he had to accommodate me. That made me very unpopular.

Difficult math test with pencil and calculator

In my teen years, I started to move away from Judaism. I heard things in Synagogue I didn't quite believe in and, when I asked questions, I was basically shut down. So a few years after I completed my bat mitzvah, I stopped going. Judaism, like any other religion I looked into, just wasn't for me. I saw religion as a way to separate humans instead of connecting us and I wouldn't be a part of that.

Hand separates one stick figure from a group of stick figures

But leaving Judaism didn't mean I was no longer Jewish. Being Jewish is a race, a heritage, a culture. (I'm not getting into that here.  Do some research if you are curious.) I would be part of that forever. And here I am, almost six decades into life, still looking at what that means.

Man standing talking to woman in wheelchair

Let's start with looks. I was endowed with the typical Jewish nose. I was teased about it in school and hated everything about it. Not one model in any magazine, not one leading actress in the movies or on television had this nose. Barbra Streisand was an anomaly and not usually called beautiful. Large noses were not considered beautiful. See the comic below for proof. When I was 16, my grandmother offered to help me get rid of it. I jumped at the chance and made myself not look Jewish.

I think about that now. My daughter had the same nose and, when she said she was uncomfortable with it, I had her nose done, too. Anything to make things easier. But now I think it was a mistake for both me and her. Or was it? We have, in our society, been changing our ideas about beauty. Skin color can be more than just white. Hair can be curly, even frizzy. Even disabilities are deemed beautiful. But we still don't see Jewish noses as beautiful. Why is that?

What about percentages? In the world today, about 0.2% of the population is Jewish. Most of those live in Israel and the United States. In the United States, most of the Jewish population lives in New York, California, Florida, and New Jersey. I didn't understand why this mattered until recently. When I first graduated college, my husband and I moved to Dallas, Texas. They were hiring hundreds of teachers and I needed a job. I lasted one year. The prejudice was incredible. Blacks against whites, Christians against Jews. My students, my precious nine year old students, who loved me and loved my class, asked me quite seriously, after I took off school for the High Holy Days, where my horns were. I didn't know what they were talking about. When I asked, they told me their religion teacher told them Jews have horns because they are devils. I told them to have the religion teacher call me. She never did.

Statue of Moses with horns

I moved back to New York and, eventually, got hired in Herricks, where I remained until I retired. When I started in Herricks, we decorated the building for Christmas and Easter. I spoke up. The principal listened and we added some Jewish decorations. I spoke up again, along with some parents and other teachers, and we finally stopped decorating for the holidays. My school was a safe, comfortable place to be Jewish. Even though we were still the minority, there were more of us there than anywhere I had ever been, except for Synagogue.

Today, I live in North Carolina. Before I moved, I looked up Synagogues in the area. I haven't joined but just knowing they are here makes me feel a bit more comfortable. Because I don't look Jewish, people don't know, unless they ask. But I have never felt like more of a minority. Every hospital is church affiliated. This means all the doctors have religious signs in their offices, all the forms ask if your faith is strong or if you need help, and everyone blesses me everywhere I go. (I never answer religious questions on medical forms. It's totally unrelated to my health.) Even many of the stores and restaurants have large hangings of Jesus or crosses. There are more churches here than I've ever seen before.

Doctor in scrubs holding a cross

Now, none of this would really matter to me except for what's happening in the news today. Each headline is linked to the original article.

Newspaper

Here is a headline: (JTA) — Bruce Reinhart, the federal judge in Florida who signed the warrant allowing the FBI to raid former President Donald Trump’s Mar-a-Lago property on Tuesday, has been hit with a wave of antisemitic threats online.

And another:'It's chilling': Antisemitic fliers found in Raleigh neighborhood

This one came in while I sit and type this blog:Ron DeSantis Called out by Jewish Leaders Over Doug Mastriano Rally

As I read about how Trump took pages from Nazi Germany, it is hard to wrap my head around the fact that antisemitism is on the rise. And I am living in a place where I am a true minority. Will it get worse or better? Should I be worried? I don't know. But the more I hear about it, the more Jewish I feel. And the more scared I get. Just my two cents.

Sad emoji