jews.

this was a class assignment for newswriting. It was a bitch to cut it down to 300 words but I managed (well, almost, its 301.)

“Ma'oz Tzur Yeshu'ati,” The familiar scene of a family singing these words around a menorah during the Syracuse Stage production of Anne Frank made me yearn for my family and feel connected to my roots.

I never saw my religion as particularly unusual.  Growing up in New York City and attending a school where the student body was never less than 60% Jewish, basically everyone I knew was either Jewish or familiar with the culture.

Syracuse is different. I often receive comments like, “Oh, you’re Jewish? Cool.” Although these statements have no connotations, they make me realize that despite growing up in a culturally diverse city, I’ve been very sheltered.  I’ve also come across much ignorance of Judaism. A friend was unaware that the “Old Testament” is the Jewish Bible. Perhaps it was my naivety, not hers, to assume that this was common knowledge.

Lately, my religion has come up in hordes of conversations and I’ve been exposed to more Jewish jokes than I had before college.

When I told another friend that I was writing a diversity piece on Anne Frank he joshed, “Why? Jews aren’t minorities.” I replied, “Yeah, well there are 6 million less of us than there should be,” referring to the number of Jews killed in the holocaust. His next comment, though not ill intentioned, caught me off guard, “That’s because you guys kept dying.” I don’t hold his insensitivity against him, knowing that he meant no harm, but I found it rather taste-less.  

Seeing Anne Frank in this setting was an awakening for me. I was reintroduced to the extensive and startling history of the Jewish people. Had I been living in Amsterdam during the holocaust, like Anne Frank, the horrors that were conveyed in this play could’ve been my reality.