Thoughts and musings from a writer, editor, photographer, activist, and musician in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. I believe that faith and social action are intertwined in efforts to positively motivate change in the society around us. We need to be actively involved in our communities to try to effect this change locally and globally. I also love the local Arts scene. Warning: alternative perspectives and strong opinions ahead. Intimidated yet? Good - read on.
Showing posts with label racism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label racism. Show all posts
Friday, March 22, 2019
A School Visit for the International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination
On March 21, I was invited for the second time as a guest speaker for the International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination on March 21 at Balwin School in north Edmonton. My talk was very similar to the one I gave last year, focussing on anti-bullying, anti-Semitism, and activism.
This year, I added am emphasis on calling out and stopping racist and prejudicial comments immediately, to prevent them from becoming normalized and becoming the start of a path of hatred. We've seen what unchecked hatred can do with the recent terrorist attack at the mosque in Christchurch, New Zealand, and at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh last year.
Some of the young people in the multiracial class shared their experiences encountering racism, but also asked me a lot of questions about being Jewish, mostly about cultural and religious practices. I was apparently the first person most of them had ever met who self-identified as being Jewish. Even their teacher and the student teacher were asking me questions.
Opportunities like this are really important because these young people now could put a face and name to the word "Jewish." Much racism and prejudice often comes from fear of the "other." Now, a Jewish person is no longer an "other" to them. When we get to meet people from different backgrounds, and we sincerely seek to learn about their lives and traditions, it helps to build intercultural understanding, peace, and harmony in our society.
Monday, October 01, 2018
#HateFreeYEG Lanches
#HateFreeYEG is a new grassroots community initiative to work towards eradicating Edmonton of hate and racism. The initiative launched on September 30, and I was asked to speak at the launch as a community organizer about how we can eliminate hate, as well as my own experiences with anti-Semitism. Here is a video of my talk, as well as my notes.
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Shalom and thank you for inviting me to speak this afternoon and to join my voice with all of us here who proclaim that hate is not welcome in Edmonton. I am with the Edmonton Coalition Against War and Racism and the Edmonton Interfaith Centre for Education. I am also a Jewish woman.
As a Jewish woman, the growing resurgence of ultra right-wing hate groups concerns me greatly. My own community has been affected recently, with swastikas being spray painted on buildings in several southwest neighbourhoods. It stands to reason that the same kinds of people who would express hate towards immigrants, Muslims, and people of colour are the same kinds of people who would be anti-Jewish. Also, as a Jew I feel a need to stand up against hatred because of my roots and my faith. Many Jewish people of my generation are the descendants of immigrants and refugees. I am also vigilant against Islamophobia not only because hatred is just plain wrong, but also because of the shared Abrahamic roots of our faiths.
In fact, my commitment to social justice and human rights stems largely from my Jewish background. In Judaism, there is a value called tikkun olam, which translates to healing or repairing the world. We all have that potential within us, regardless of our background, to make the world a better place. It doesn't have to be through grand gestures or high-profile acts – every day, we all have opportunities to make the world around us safer, and to fill it with more compassion, hope, and love.
At various times in my life I have had experiences with anti-Semitism. It's often been a subtle undercurrent, sometimes taking the form of jokes or comments perpetuating various stereotypes like being cheap, or being part of some kind of power conspiracy. Anti-Semitism has sometimes crossed over into sentiments that are misogynist, like body shaming, or calling a Jewish woman a nag, or the ubiquitous Jewish mother jokes. I've been told at times I don't “look” Jewish, as though that is a compliment. It isn't. Some anti-Semitism I have faced or witnessed also crosses a line into been ableist, like being referred to as neurotic or controlling – attributing to one's culture symptoms of mental illness which may or may not actually be real. After all, you don't always know what someone might be struggling with.
I recall when I was accosted by a man on an isolated street in the inner city. He had seen my Star of David around my neck, and thought it was appropriate to stop me – a complete stranger – and ask if I was Jewish. I said yes, keeping a wide physical distance from this person. He then proceeded to interrogate me, asking where I was from, and not accepting Edmonton as the answer. He finally backed off when I gave him some general response about my distant Eastern European heritage. After that experience, I have found myself feeling defensive when someone asks about my choice of jewelry. I enjoy meeting new people and talking about myself and learning about them, but being “othered” time and time again can sometimes make a person overly sensitive to inquiries about their background, which is unfortunate because having conversations about ourselves can lead to greater understanding.
Planting the seeds against racism and hate need to start early. We also all know that kid from school who was always being picked on, pushed around, made fun of, teased, beaten up, and pushed around some more. I know – because I was that kid. I believe that a lot of my values towards kindness, love, and being against racism and hate comes from the fact that I was badly bullied as a child and teenager and I don't want to see that happen to anyone. When we see bullying, when we see people being made fun of because they are somehow different, when we see hatred in our midst we have an obligation to stand up, intervene and say that this is wrong.
In closing, I also wanted to say that I am a board member with the Edmonton Interfaith Centre for Education and Action, and what we do is to seek to achieve peace and harmony and an end to racism in the world through teaching about different faiths, not from a religious point of view, but from an educational one. I encourage you to look us up and see what we have to offer, and to become a member and get involved.
Wednesday, March 21, 2018
Speech: International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination
I was invited as a guest speaker for the first annual student conference for the International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination on March 21 at Balwin School (Belvedere School also participated). The event was organized by Chris Nielsen, MLA Edmonton-Decore. Below is my speech, which was geared to the grades 5-8 age group.
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It's not often that I get to talk to people your age. Usually it's old people like me. But I am so happy to have this opportunity.
Something I find really exciting is how young people have a chance to make a difference. You have the chance to make a difference in other people's lives. If you want to change the world, you need to start with the world around you.
I am an activist who believes in peaceful and non-violent ways of protesting. I have been interested in issues like human rights and peace since I was as young as you are. I never liked it when someone was treated unfairly or was bullied. I was bullied when I was a child. So, I don't like to see other people hurting because it reminds me of how I felt when other people treated me badly.
Sometimes I was lucky and had a friend who would help me when someone was making fun of me. If you see someone being bullied, you can be that friend. Even when we become adults, we still have to look out for each other, because adults can be mean to each other too, and we need to stand up and say when someone's behaviour is wrong.
I eventually wanted to get involved with organizations that had values I have, and work for social justice and human rights. I got on the Internet and searched until I found local groups to connect with. I was an adult when I did this – we didn't have the Internet when I was a kid. We didn't have phones that could take pictures and send emails and play movies. The phones just made phone calls. Yeah, kind of boring. You're very fortunate that you have a lot of resources literally your fingertips and you can stay informed about what's going on in the world almost any time. Social media like Facebook and Twitter make it easy to support an idea by sharing and liking. In the activist community, we call that “clicktivism.” It's great because it is easy and helps people feel involved, like they are doing something important. But it is also important to be active in real life and take part in things with people face to face. And that begins with getting to know each other.
When I was in elementary school, I was the only Jewish kid in my class. It made me feel like an outsider. In grade one, my father (who is now a retired university professor) would visit our classroom a few times a year to explain Jewish customs and traditions, usually around the time of a Jewish holidays like Chanukah in winter or Passover in the spring. Those visits were really important because for most of the other kids in the class, I was the first Jewish person they had ever met and it gave them the opportunity to ask questions about why I celebrated different holidays or couldn't eat certain kinds of foods.
I was always very shy. In high school, I hung out in the computer lab a lot and became good friends with the other people who hung out there too. One person was also friends with my older brother, and we're still friends now. He told me that when he was growing up, he used to use the word “Jew” in a very bad way – to mean that someone was cheap with money. But in the social circle he was in, that was considered perfectly fine. He didn't know that was a anti-Semitic thing to say. He also didn't know any Jewish people. Then he met my brother, and then me, and suddenly “Jew” had a face and a name. And he realized that you can't call people that, because it's wrong. When you get to know people from other cultures and religions, it can open your eyes to just how much racism and anti-Semitism there is out there. Many people simply don't know any better until they are corrected and they learn.
One of my jobs is editing a community newspaper in the Boyle Street and McCauley neighbourhoods. Much like here, the neighbourhoods are very multicultural. Children who grow up in neighbourhoods like this are very lucky because you get to know people from different backgrounds, and this will help you throughout life as you meet and interact with others in school, work, or wherever you may go. I mentioned earlier that I was the only Jewish kid in my elementary school class. Otherwise, most of the kids in that same class were white. I remember at one point we had a new student who was Lebanese. Sometimes he was made fun of because of the colour of his skin, I am thankful we had a teacher who put a stop to this right away. Racism had no place in her classroom. And I have never forgotten how she dealt with that situation.
We need to treat everyone with respect, dignity, and kindness. It is wrong to make fun of someone for any reason. I mentioned earlier that I was bullied a lot as a child. People made fun of all sorts of things about me: the way I walked, the way I talked, how I dressed, the music I listened to. I had really bad skin when I was a teenager and they made of that – something I had absolutely no control over. I felt terrible all the time, but I refused to change who I was to try to get other people to like me. I think what I went through is a reason I became an activist because I don't like to see people treated unfairly, because of their religion, the colour of their skin, who they love, differing mental or physical abilities, or any reason. We are all unique, beautiful people and we deserve to be accepted for who we are.
But even when we become adults, we still make mistakes. Nobody is perfect or acts perfectly all the time. We say or do things that hurt other people's feelings. The important thing is to be strong enough to apologize and learn and grow from the situation. Sometimes the other person may not want to hear an apology or talk about it, and that is their choice and you have to respect that too. Reconciliation cannot be forced. But as long as you are open to it, then you're on the right path.
In my faith tradition, which is Judaism, we have a value that in Hebrew called tikkun olam, which translates to healing or repairing the world. I want to make the world a better place, and I want to show others how to make the world a better place – that's you. And then, on your life journeys, even while you are still learning, you can teach others as well by how you treat each other and making a decision that you're always going to try to do your best in every situation.
--
It's not often that I get to talk to people your age. Usually it's old people like me. But I am so happy to have this opportunity.
Something I find really exciting is how young people have a chance to make a difference. You have the chance to make a difference in other people's lives. If you want to change the world, you need to start with the world around you.
I am an activist who believes in peaceful and non-violent ways of protesting. I have been interested in issues like human rights and peace since I was as young as you are. I never liked it when someone was treated unfairly or was bullied. I was bullied when I was a child. So, I don't like to see other people hurting because it reminds me of how I felt when other people treated me badly.
Sometimes I was lucky and had a friend who would help me when someone was making fun of me. If you see someone being bullied, you can be that friend. Even when we become adults, we still have to look out for each other, because adults can be mean to each other too, and we need to stand up and say when someone's behaviour is wrong.
I eventually wanted to get involved with organizations that had values I have, and work for social justice and human rights. I got on the Internet and searched until I found local groups to connect with. I was an adult when I did this – we didn't have the Internet when I was a kid. We didn't have phones that could take pictures and send emails and play movies. The phones just made phone calls. Yeah, kind of boring. You're very fortunate that you have a lot of resources literally your fingertips and you can stay informed about what's going on in the world almost any time. Social media like Facebook and Twitter make it easy to support an idea by sharing and liking. In the activist community, we call that “clicktivism.” It's great because it is easy and helps people feel involved, like they are doing something important. But it is also important to be active in real life and take part in things with people face to face. And that begins with getting to know each other.
When I was in elementary school, I was the only Jewish kid in my class. It made me feel like an outsider. In grade one, my father (who is now a retired university professor) would visit our classroom a few times a year to explain Jewish customs and traditions, usually around the time of a Jewish holidays like Chanukah in winter or Passover in the spring. Those visits were really important because for most of the other kids in the class, I was the first Jewish person they had ever met and it gave them the opportunity to ask questions about why I celebrated different holidays or couldn't eat certain kinds of foods.
I was always very shy. In high school, I hung out in the computer lab a lot and became good friends with the other people who hung out there too. One person was also friends with my older brother, and we're still friends now. He told me that when he was growing up, he used to use the word “Jew” in a very bad way – to mean that someone was cheap with money. But in the social circle he was in, that was considered perfectly fine. He didn't know that was a anti-Semitic thing to say. He also didn't know any Jewish people. Then he met my brother, and then me, and suddenly “Jew” had a face and a name. And he realized that you can't call people that, because it's wrong. When you get to know people from other cultures and religions, it can open your eyes to just how much racism and anti-Semitism there is out there. Many people simply don't know any better until they are corrected and they learn.
One of my jobs is editing a community newspaper in the Boyle Street and McCauley neighbourhoods. Much like here, the neighbourhoods are very multicultural. Children who grow up in neighbourhoods like this are very lucky because you get to know people from different backgrounds, and this will help you throughout life as you meet and interact with others in school, work, or wherever you may go. I mentioned earlier that I was the only Jewish kid in my elementary school class. Otherwise, most of the kids in that same class were white. I remember at one point we had a new student who was Lebanese. Sometimes he was made fun of because of the colour of his skin, I am thankful we had a teacher who put a stop to this right away. Racism had no place in her classroom. And I have never forgotten how she dealt with that situation.
We need to treat everyone with respect, dignity, and kindness. It is wrong to make fun of someone for any reason. I mentioned earlier that I was bullied a lot as a child. People made fun of all sorts of things about me: the way I walked, the way I talked, how I dressed, the music I listened to. I had really bad skin when I was a teenager and they made of that – something I had absolutely no control over. I felt terrible all the time, but I refused to change who I was to try to get other people to like me. I think what I went through is a reason I became an activist because I don't like to see people treated unfairly, because of their religion, the colour of their skin, who they love, differing mental or physical abilities, or any reason. We are all unique, beautiful people and we deserve to be accepted for who we are.
But even when we become adults, we still make mistakes. Nobody is perfect or acts perfectly all the time. We say or do things that hurt other people's feelings. The important thing is to be strong enough to apologize and learn and grow from the situation. Sometimes the other person may not want to hear an apology or talk about it, and that is their choice and you have to respect that too. Reconciliation cannot be forced. But as long as you are open to it, then you're on the right path.
In my faith tradition, which is Judaism, we have a value that in Hebrew called tikkun olam, which translates to healing or repairing the world. I want to make the world a better place, and I want to show others how to make the world a better place – that's you. And then, on your life journeys, even while you are still learning, you can teach others as well by how you treat each other and making a decision that you're always going to try to do your best in every situation.
Monday, October 19, 2015
Combatting Hate at the Festival of Faiths
On Saturday, September 19, I was part of a panel on the topic of "Combatting Hate" at the first annual Festival of Faiths. Organized by youth affiliated with the John Humphrey Centre for Peace and Human Rights, the Festival of Faiths is intended to teach others about different faiths by people who practice them through information tables, panel discussions, and performances.
The Combatting Hate panel consisted of myself speaking as a Jewish person, as well as representatives from the local Muslim and United Church of Canada communities. It was moderated by a Unitarian Universalist minister.We discussed hate crimes in Edmonton and what everyone can do to help prevent such things from happening: ways to build interfaith understanding in our diverse society.
I was not sure what format the panel would take prior to the event, so I prepared some notes in the event that I had to give some sort of introductory talk. As it turned out, the panel was a discussion led by questions from the moderator, then the audience. I did, however, refer to my notes at several times when responding to questions. Here are my notes - I was clear in making it known I was speaking as a lay person. The event was hard-pressed to find a rabbi because the event was held on the Jewish Sabbath (steps are being taken to prevent this from happening next year).
1. There are no specific Jewish teachings on hatred and racism I am aware of.
2. We can look at the Old Testament, starting with the story of Adam and Eve, which shows that we are all connected, we all come from the same beginnings, and as thus are all equal.
3. There are passages in Isaiah and Proverbs that deal with how we treat people, but again, these are not specifically Jewish (other religions follow the Old Testament also).
4. However, one of my favourite, and best known, comments on how we treat each other is actually from the Talmud (oral law which was later codified in writing). The story of Rabbi Hillel - a rabbi who lived around the same time as Jesus. The story goes that a non-Jew came to Rabbi Hillel and said he would convert to Judaism if the rabbi could teach the man the entire Torah in the same time he could stand on one foot. Rabbi Hillel's response: "What is hateful, do not do to your fellow man. That is the whole of the Torah; the rest is commentary." (Talmud Shabbat 31a)
5. So, as a Jewish person, I find a solution, or preventative measure, against hatred is for us to dialogue and learn from each other about what our faiths and cultures really mean, to recognize the true teachings from ones that only serve the purposes of political leaders or others who seek power or operate on greed and envy, who use faith to try to reach those aims.
6. As a Jewish person, I feel we each need to lead by example, and to learn from our history. We are as prone as anyone to being perpetrators of hatred and prejudice. My mother told me stories of teachers at her Yeshiva (Jewish day school) expressing anti-Arab sentiments. There are Jewish jokes about the stupidity of non-Jews, for example.
7. There is a misinterpretation as to the meaning of Jewish people being the "Chosen People." It has been used against us, and by us to be against others. It doesn't mean we are special or better - it means we were chosen to receive the Torah. So, we need to also have a good understanding of our own faith and culture.Here is a video from the discussion - the battery in my camera died before the Q&A started: Here is a sound file of the entire panel discussion, including the Q&A:
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Tolerating Intolerance: What Idle No More Says About (Some) Canadians
I wrote a post yesterday explaining why Idle No More works so well as a movement and what community organizers can learn from it. On the flip side of the positive aspects of INM is the shocking reactions to the movement by many Canadians.
Perhaps it is because it is such a high-profile movement, but lots of people are giving their two cents about INM on social media and in comments to article appearing online. Speaking from my own experiences, of all of the videos I have posted on YouTube, ones relating to INM have received the most comments, and some of them, quite frankly, are sickening. Tweets and Facebook posts I am also seeing display a level of ignorance, racism, and the redneck attitude that has stereotyped Canadians, particularly from the Prairies.
From racial epithets aimed at First Nations to the claims that "they get everything for free and don't pay taxes" to comments about having so much time to be "idle" and partake in protests - to me, as a non-Aboriginal ally to the movement, these comments are embarassing and infuriating. And yet, such sentiments appear to be tolerated. Even from on high, the Harper government has been shockingly silent about the movement in general, thus fostering this racism.
At the same time, we don't hear these same voices proclaiming their outrage over those owners of corporations who are in the top income bracket in the country, yet pay little or not taxes thanks to breaks aimed directly at them. Ones who rake in the profits while paying their workers barely above a living wage (and who actually have to pay taxes on their meager earnings). Ones who have these benefits thanks to the government in power, the same one all but ignoring the Idle No More movement. In other words, the Conservative government under Harper. If anyone wants to complain about people not being fairly taxed or receiving money off of the hard work of others, think about those corporations. Then, think about Stephen Harper. Then, when the next federal election comes along vote, and don't vote for the Conservatives.
If anything, the frightening undercurrent of racism pervasive in our society which INM is revealing demonstrates just how marginalized Aboriginal, First Nations, Inuit, Metis peoples actually are. It is yet another layer of proof (sad as it is) that INM is necessary.
Here are some excellent resources to explain some of the myths and fallacies concerning First Nations taxation and related issues:
First Nations taxation
The Free Housing for Natives Myth
Idle No More commenters could use some lessons in critical thinking
What if Natives Stop Subsidizing Canada?
Monday, November 26, 2012
Involuntary Anti-Semitism: Confronting Ignorance
I like to think that we live in a more enlightened age, where people are cognizant of speech that is offensive. Racial slurs, comments pertaining to sexual orientation in a derogatory manner, jokes about women (or men, for that matter) - these are all things that a modern, intelligent, education person should know are not acceptable.
You would think, right? Something happened to me today that made me wonder how prejudicial language could become normalized to the point where the person speaking the language has no clue that he or she is being offensive.
I was shopping with a friend of mine for an item in a store that was having a "buy one, get one half off" kind of sale. At first, he was going to get something, and then I was going to get another item with the discount. My friend changed his mind and decided to get two things for himself.
Our young, bubbly salesperson who up until that point was being very helpful, looked at me and said in her cartoon-ish voice, "Looks like you're getting jewed."
My friend and I were silent. Did I hear her correctly? She gave me another chance to clarify. "Yup, he jewed you." I still could not believe what I was hearing.
"Did she just say, 'jewed'?" I asked my friend, in a whisper. He nodded.
Let me explain that this young woman was very, how shall I put it? - unsophisticated. I had shopped in this store before, found her very friendly, albeit a bit chatty to a point of being somewhat too personal. I chalked it up to a personality thing combined with perhaps bad boundaries. In any case, she did nothing to put me off coming back to the store, which specializes in the particular item of which we were in search.
I had a sneaking suspicion that she honestly had no idea that the term she just used was offensive. She also had no idea that the customer she happened to say that too was Jewish. I have a degree in secondary education. This was what we would call a 'teachable moment.'
When it came time to pay, she noticed my friend had by now left the store, appearing to have stuck me with the bill. Actually, he has been suffering from a leg problem and needed to go somewhere to sit down, but I played along. Guess what she said? "Looks like he jewed you again."
"I have some friendly advice for you," I began. "Using the term 'jew' in that manner is offensive. I happen to be Jewish and I wanted to let you know this, because somewhere along the line you're going to say that to someone and they are going to get very upset."
She was immediately apologetic. "I am so sorry," she said. "To me, it is just a word used to mean what I was saying." She meant that my friend screwed me over. Usually, that particular epithet is also used to refer to someone who is cheap.
I compared her use of the word 'jew' to the way my classmates and I used to use the word 'gay' in elementary school, to refer to someone being stupid. At that point, I did not realize that the word also referred to a group of people and as such, using the word in that manner was insulting to them.
Apparently there are people still left in the world who also don't realize that using 'jew' as a verb is offensive. They don't understand that using the word in that manner is offensive to Jewish people (and should be offensive to everyone, for that matter). A close friend of mine used to use the word in that manner, until he met my brother and later me. He told me that we were the first Jewish people he had ever met, and suddenly 'jew' had a face and a name. It wasn't just some word any more to mean a cheap swindler or a method of haggling.
Back to the young woman in question. She kept going on and on that she did not mean anything bad by saying that, and that we're all the same people of flesh and blood and she actually is not prejudiced against anyone. And you know what? I believe her. I believe that she just seriously did not know that what she was saying was inappropriate. I shudder to think what could have happened if she happened to use those lines on someone other than me.
My friend later told me that he at first did not know if he was hearing her correctly, and was shocked. He was also concerned for how I was going to react. I told him how I handled the situation and he agreed that it was the appropriate thing to do.
I could have reacted in a number of different ways. I could have asked my friend to quietly put down our merchandise and leave the store, never to return. I could have lost my temper and thrown a fit. I could have ignored it and done absolutely nothing. I could have contacted the store's management when I returned home.
Of utmost importance to me was making sure the young woman knew her language was offensive, why it was offensive, and to hopefully ensure it never happens again. Everything happens for a reason, and I think that is why we ended up at this store and she just coincidentally happened to speak that way to a Jewish person (in case you are wondering, my coat was concealing my Star of David - there was no way she would have known I was Jewish).
When we are confronted with ignorance, we have a responsibility to speak up. In most cases, the other person is not a hardcore racist or anti-Semite. Just like this young woman, they are most likely just unaware. Usually, all we have to do is make a simple statement identifying someone's words or behaviour as not acceptable. If we remain silent, we're being just as ignorant as the offender.
Postscript: I purposely did not name the store, the shopping centre where it is located, or the items for which we were shopping. I honestly believe this woman meant no malice and I feel the situation has been resolved appropriately. So, if you ask, I am not going to tell.
Friday, January 07, 2011
When You're Strange - A View from the Inside
Several of my friends on Twitter have committed to a monthly blogging schedule based on a specific theme. January's theme is racism and/or discrimination. At first I felt this was a topic to which I could add no real insight. After all, I am not a member of a visible minority, and as such have never encountered racism. I am Jewish, but have been fortunate enough not to have had to deal with anti-Semitism, at least not overtly.
This got me thinking that when racism or discrimination is the topic on the table, we often think of it in terms of what members of one group does to another. There is always some sort of cultural, religious, or racism differentiation. However, my own experiences have shown that discrimination can happen within the same ethnic group.
I grew up in a fairly traditional Orthodox Jewish home. As a result, it was always assumed that when my brother and I became of school age, we would attend the local Talmud Torah day school. As my older brother approached the time to register for grade one, it became evident this would not be the case. In those days, there was no transportation provided for children who needed a ride, despite my parents being told otherwise. My father, a professor at the University of Alberta, taught 8 a.m. classes and would not have been able to drive my brother to school every day. My parents desperately tried to work out car-pooling and ride share agreements with other Jewish families in our area, but to no avail.
Finally, it was time to register my brother for school. My parents enrolled him in the public school a couple of blocks away, and that is where he and then I attended for our elementary and junior high years. I was the only Jewish child in my class for the first six years of my school career, and I never felt strange. I knew I had customs and traditions that were different from the other kids, but it did not bother me at that time. My father often came to my classroom to make presentations about the Jewish holidays and share some ethnic food treats. At the same time, I enjoyed taking part in Christmas decorating and concerts. Yes, there were a few things I had to skip, like birthday parties on Saturdays (the Sabbath) and the annual hamburger barbecue (I ate no non-kosher meat at that time), but to put it in the vernacular, it was all good.
Then came junior high.
The Talmud Torah only went up to grade six back then. It was a feeder school for the school I attended, so when junior high came around so did a lot of Jewish kids. I was very excited that for the first time I would get to hang out with other people of my tribe. I would finally have Jewish friends! Or so I thought.
It broke my heart when the other Jewish kids would not accept me because I did not go to their school. They would not even believe that I was really Jewish. The irony is that I was still religiously observant at that time, while they obviously weren't given their dietary and weekend habits. I was severely taunted verbally by many of them, and physically by one in particular. I was an outsider in my own cultural group.
To this day, I still feel somewhat like an outsider in the Jewish community. I do have some Jewish friends and am involved in a few community activities, but I don't really consider the Jewish community to be mine. The community is very small and homogeneous, and when you are someone who has views that don't fit with the mainstream, you really stick out. It is almost as if one's Jewish identity is determined by outside forces like what school you went to, what family you're from, how much money you have, and your political beliefs.
While I still bear some of the scars of my youth, I have come to terms with myself and my identity. Developing the courage to stand up in the face of adversity I believe is one reason I became a social activist. It is why I cringe when I see others (either here or abroad) mistreated by a system, a nation, or a paradigm of thought. This has led me down some interesting and unusual paths both as a Jew and in general. Pressure and heat, when applied correctly, can create newness and beauty. If faced with a choice of an easy route or a struggle, I choose the struggle.
Related Posts:
Blog Group Topic #1: Racism/Discrimination/Stereotypes by @lindork
Discrimination and Helplessness by @JenBanksYEG
The Double Meaning by @TamaraStecyk
Racism, would it cease to exist without...? by @sirthinks
It's Not Me, It's You by @Joanna_Farley
This got me thinking that when racism or discrimination is the topic on the table, we often think of it in terms of what members of one group does to another. There is always some sort of cultural, religious, or racism differentiation. However, my own experiences have shown that discrimination can happen within the same ethnic group.
I grew up in a fairly traditional Orthodox Jewish home. As a result, it was always assumed that when my brother and I became of school age, we would attend the local Talmud Torah day school. As my older brother approached the time to register for grade one, it became evident this would not be the case. In those days, there was no transportation provided for children who needed a ride, despite my parents being told otherwise. My father, a professor at the University of Alberta, taught 8 a.m. classes and would not have been able to drive my brother to school every day. My parents desperately tried to work out car-pooling and ride share agreements with other Jewish families in our area, but to no avail.
Finally, it was time to register my brother for school. My parents enrolled him in the public school a couple of blocks away, and that is where he and then I attended for our elementary and junior high years. I was the only Jewish child in my class for the first six years of my school career, and I never felt strange. I knew I had customs and traditions that were different from the other kids, but it did not bother me at that time. My father often came to my classroom to make presentations about the Jewish holidays and share some ethnic food treats. At the same time, I enjoyed taking part in Christmas decorating and concerts. Yes, there were a few things I had to skip, like birthday parties on Saturdays (the Sabbath) and the annual hamburger barbecue (I ate no non-kosher meat at that time), but to put it in the vernacular, it was all good.
Then came junior high.
The Talmud Torah only went up to grade six back then. It was a feeder school for the school I attended, so when junior high came around so did a lot of Jewish kids. I was very excited that for the first time I would get to hang out with other people of my tribe. I would finally have Jewish friends! Or so I thought.
It broke my heart when the other Jewish kids would not accept me because I did not go to their school. They would not even believe that I was really Jewish. The irony is that I was still religiously observant at that time, while they obviously weren't given their dietary and weekend habits. I was severely taunted verbally by many of them, and physically by one in particular. I was an outsider in my own cultural group.
To this day, I still feel somewhat like an outsider in the Jewish community. I do have some Jewish friends and am involved in a few community activities, but I don't really consider the Jewish community to be mine. The community is very small and homogeneous, and when you are someone who has views that don't fit with the mainstream, you really stick out. It is almost as if one's Jewish identity is determined by outside forces like what school you went to, what family you're from, how much money you have, and your political beliefs.
While I still bear some of the scars of my youth, I have come to terms with myself and my identity. Developing the courage to stand up in the face of adversity I believe is one reason I became a social activist. It is why I cringe when I see others (either here or abroad) mistreated by a system, a nation, or a paradigm of thought. This has led me down some interesting and unusual paths both as a Jew and in general. Pressure and heat, when applied correctly, can create newness and beauty. If faced with a choice of an easy route or a struggle, I choose the struggle.
Related Posts:
Blog Group Topic #1: Racism/Discrimination/Stereotypes by @lindork
Discrimination and Helplessness by @JenBanksYEG
The Double Meaning by @TamaraStecyk
Racism, would it cease to exist without...? by @sirthinks
It's Not Me, It's You by @Joanna_Farley
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