In the course overview for Ethnography of Jewish Experience, there is a list of seven “guiding questions” for the semester. Since August we have referred back to these questions as we have made our way reviewing Jewish lives from the Biblical time to present day. The first question, “What does it mean to be Jewish?” has been eminent in our class discussions, lectures, and readings. In our last class we discussed the topic of pilgrimages with a focus on the Birthright program, a program that sponsors an educational trip to Israel for Jewish adults ranging from 18 to 26 years of old. Before coming to Dickinson I rarely heard about this program because my Jewish friends were too young to partake. However, since becoming a member of the Dickinson community, Birthright has become more prominent in our conversations. After seeing the video and having a discussion on it, I decided I should find out more about the program – what exactly is it and what is its purpose – and to ask my friend, Jenny Saber, about her expectations since she was accepted through Dickinson to go on this trip this upcoming Winter Break.

In the “About Us” section on Birthright Israel’s website, it states the purpose of this trip is “to diminish the growing division between Israel and Jewish communities around the world; to strengthen the sense of solidarity among world Jewry; and to strengthen participants’ personal Jewish identity and connection to the Jewish people” (Birthright Israel). This message is parallel to Professor Staub’s when he briefly described his views on the purpose of pilgrimages today in terms of the Birthright. He said that the organization wants the participants to feel a connection to this place and to return home as active Jews in their communities. However, when I was talking with my friend Jenny about this, she had a different view. She said that the Birthright program exists because Judaism is “dying out” and they want young Jewish adults to meet young Jewish adults of the opposite sex with the hope that they will marry and procreate more Jews. She mentioned that if you find your spouse on this trip, you will receive another free trip to Israel. I found this observation to be very interesting especially after reviewing many of the fieldworks in the beginning of the semester. Many of the young Jewish females interviewed mentioned how they have thought about if they consider the religion of their potential future spouse as a significant factor in determining whether or not to marry him and how important it will be to raise their children Jewish or another religion. It seems as though Birthright would be a excellent way for them to connect with others of the opposite sex and to forge a lasting relationship with people who share similar concerns.

Today, even with all the different forms of technology, it is still hard to make connections with people and to not feel isolated. The Birthright Israel is a way for young adults to connect with other young Jews in a country where they are not the minority. I asked Jenny to describe her expectations of the trip. She states:

“I expect that this trip will have a more spiritual meaning for me. For the first time I will be surrounded by Jews which is quite a unique but special experience. In being in this environment, I expect to learn more about Judaism and take a greater interest in my religion. Being Jewish is different than any other religion in the fact that there are so few Jews and we are a dwindling populations o being able to go to a country full of my minority is an honor and I’m extremely excited to go to Israel”

These people have a common history. There connection goes very deep. As a non-Jew, I am honestly jealous not only about the Birthright Israel program, but I was also jealous when I read about the story of Masada. Jews have their own “300” story, a story of overcoming a great battle to die free men. I have always felt that I lack a connection to my religion and since I have come to college, I have explored other religions with hope that I would find something that feels like a good “fit.” Religion is a popular conversation topic amongst my friends and family, so many times when I am alone I create many what if scenarios. What if Presbyterians had a place to send their youths for them to “strengthen the sense of solidarity among world” (Birthright) Presbyterians? Would this be as successful for us as it seems to be for young Jews? What if Presbyterians had a similar story to the Masada, would I feel more pride? I look forward to hearing about Jenny’s experience when she returns to the United States in January and to see if the trip was a success in terms of whether she becomes an active member of the Jewish community.

Entering today’s class I was very hesitant as to where our class discussion would lead. As a Christian from German descent with blond hair and blue eyes, I had no idea how my classmates would react if I decided to participate. My grandmother was living in Germany with her mother and sisters when World War II broke out and was to forced to remain there for the next four years after her travel documents permitting her and her siblings to leave the country were burned in one of the many bombings. Yes, she saw some horrors of the war and lived through some terrible bombings, but how can one compare her experiences of wartime Germany to someone who was Jewish? For example, my friend Rachel Saperstein’s grandmother was on the run along with a handful of other Jews. Where my grandmother had a bed to sleep, my friend’s grandmother had the ground. My grandmother knew her sisters were alive in the other room while my friend’s grandmother knew nothing of her closest friends’ and family’s whereabouts. It is scary and extremely sad that one can say, yes, my grandmother endured many hardships and lived through one of the most devastating wars to ever occur on this planet, but she was one of the lucky ones. She was lucky to be able to have friends and a father in New York to get her and her sisters on a train while Munich was being bombed to non-stop travel to Portugal to get on a French cargo ship to return to the states. She was lucky.

One of my classmates made a very interesting comment today. She said that she did not feel something until she saw the ashes even after visiting a few of the camps and the two museums. For me personally, I feel the most when I am with a survivor and they retelling their story, which leads me to the question of how are we going to convey these stories and the history to our children’s generations and our grandchildren’s generation? I have actually had this discussion with my friends multiple times over the past couple of years. Each year my grandmother loses her ability to recall certain details from her childhood (she is going to be ninety in three years). The people of her generation have truly lived through it all – some WWI, the Great Depression, WWII, the scare of Communism, Vietnam War, more financial crises, more genocide. Again, this is sad to say, but these survivors are a dying breed and with them go many stories that have yet to be shared. As Professor Staub mentioned in class, how are we going to convey the stories to the future generations of our world? How are our children going to learn about the Holocaust? How are they ever going to fully understand the impact it had not only on the then-current state of the world and the Jewish population but also on the future Jewish population and the future state of European countries? And not only the Jews, but also the disabled, the gays, and the gypsies. As stated in Jonathan Webber’s essay “Lest We Forget!”:

“How does one depict Auschwitz in a Holocaust exhibition? Very often this is done by showing a photograph of the famous entry-gate… One problem with this representation is that visitors to such an exhibitions would be tempted to reduce their image of Auschwitz to just this entry-gate, thereby substituting a part for the whole and giving that part more meaning than it really deserves. A related problem is that the comparative normality of the appearance of this entry-gate may also act in such a way as to shield visitors from the horrific realities of what went beyond” (p. 120)

When our children read their textbooks in school, is the publisher going to use the entry-gate as a symbol of the concentration camp? Will our children only think of this gate when their teacher mentions the word Auschwitz or are they going to think of the events that occurred at this camp? How does one “accurately” depict the horrific crimes? Can anyone who did not witness it truly grasp the horrors of it? You can tell me people were gassed to death, but I cannot fathom how someone could push a button to kill hundreds of innocent men, women, and children. How can my children understand if I cannot and I have heard from people who were there in the midst of it all? Professor Staub ended class saying there is a possibility that in our lifetime the Holocaust will be re-mythologized and viewed very differently. Will this new view help future generations understand or will this new mythology of the Holocaust sugarcoat it?

            This time of year is my favorite. Every Friday after Thanksgiving, my mother emerges out of the basement with our infinite amount of Christmas decorations with which we transform our house into a Winter Wonderland filled with Santa Clauses, angels, holly, snowmen, and lights. We put away our white plates and instead use the Christmas-themed lenox plates and mugs. We decorate the Christmas tree and Christmas music is playing from the moment the first Arndt wakes up until the last one goes to sleep. From the outsiders’ perspective, it literally looks like a Christmas bomb exploded in our house or they just happened to discover Santa’s Workshop in Boyds, Maryland. However, as I go through the newspapers clipping coupons for the Holiday sales or open another Holiday card, I can’t help but wonder what about those who don’t celebrate Christmas.

              As described in Eli Yassif’s essay title “Introduction: Modern Jewish Culture as a System of Myths,” Christmas is a key event in the American calendar. He states:

“Preparations for Christmas begin weeks before the actual festival – the buying of the Christmas trees, their ornamentation, the long preoccupation with personal gifts and preparations for the holiday meals and vacations, constitute a peak in the annual cultural cycle in the United States. On the face of it, the American Jews have no place in this central component of the American culture. This is why Hanukkah has become one of the most important Jewish holidays in the United States” (p. 9).

But what if the tables were turned? As much as stores try to incorporate Hanukkah into their decorations and promote “Holiday” sales, “Holiday” events, etc instead of promoting solely “Christmas,” from my experience, this time of year primarily focuses on Christmas. So what if the majority of the American population was Jewish and not Christian? What would happen then? When I open up “Holiday” cards, will the color-theme be silver and blue instead of greens and reds? When I walk into a coffee shop, will two-thirds of the cookies be dreidels and menorahs instead of Christmas trees and Santa Clauses? When I turn on the television, will the majority of the Holiday specials be movies about the “spirit” of Hanukkah? Will workers have eight days off to observe Hanukkah instead of the two to celebrate Christmas Eve and Christmas Day? Would Christians eat Chinese food and go to the movies on these eight days because there is little else to do?

            Then I think back to my days in elementary school when I wanted to be like everyone else. We mentioned in class, Hanukkah is a way for Jewish families to reinforce the celebration of their religion while so many others are celebrating Christmas. During the days leading up to Christmas, my Jewish classmates would tell me how jealous they were that I got a Christmas tree and that Santa Claus visited my house. My response would be something along the lines of “but you get EIGHT days of presents!” but again what if the tables were turned. As a kid it is hard to compete my one day of presents to my friends’ eight days (even if presents aren’t the purpose of these holidays, as a kid what else is cooler than getting presents). Would I feel left out of the celebrations at this time of the year?

            As I write this blog, one large question has slowly formed. Yassif said that Hanukkah has become one of the most important holidays for Jews in American in part due to its “calendar proximity… to Christmas” (p. 9). If the American population was predominately Jewish, would Hanukkah have the same significance in the United States as it does today or would the other High Holidays have more significance in terms of observation amongst the community, such as stores closing? Would people recognize the significance of Christmas for the Christian Community as it does today or would it lose its large presence in terms of the decorations, the Christmas messages in the media, etc? Obviously, this time of year would be drastically different if this were the case, but to what extent?

I like to consider myself a food connoisseur. As I have gotten older, I have become more daring in trying new food. I love trying food from different regions of the world, but my favorite experience by far was last year when I had kugel for this first time. After ten minute lesson of learning the proper pronunciation (I kept saying “kogel”), Sarah finally let me try her aunt’s specialty, potato kugel. Delicious! Now every time Sarah goes home for the Jewish holidays, I only let her come back if she promises to bring me leftovers. With my new found love for “Jewish food,” I was particularly excited to read Lowenstein’s chapter on Jewish cuisine. Throughout the reading, I came across comments that caught my eye.

First, the statement: “The specific recipes for a holiday dish in a particular area depended on climate, the availability of staples, and local non-Jewish traditions, as well as local Jewish religious customs.  Each group of Jews, being cut off from direct contact with others, naturally assumed that all Jews ate the same ‘Jewish food’ as they did. But this was not at all the case” (Lowenstein, p. 119). What do you mean by this? I thought all Jews ate kugel and matzo ball soup. Wait, bagel and lox aren’t eaten by all Jews? Then why are they called Jewish food? I tried to think of what an outsider would consider typical American food and I remembered one night while I was abroad in Barcelona. I was making dinner with a Spanish friend and her boyfriend, and her boyfriend kept asking me about McDonald’s and how often I ate there. I was so confused, but then I realized he thought all Americans ate at McDonalds. I can’t even tell you the last time I ate a McDonald’s hamburger. Maybe six, seven, eight years ago? Okay, okay, so I realized I was a bit naïve when it came to “typical” Jewish food and expecting all Jews around the world to eat the same thing.

But then I became confused. Lowestein said, “With very few exceptions, such as wine and challah for kiddush and matzo for Passover, the foods of one region were completely foreign in other areas” (p. 119). I was almost positive that Sarah brought home potato kugel, which is associated with Eastern Europe, and a meatball dish that would be associated with Northern Africa. This goes against what Lowenstein just said. Maybe it’s because we are in America and America is the mixing bowl of cultures? Maybe that is the reason for why Jewish food from two different regions of the world is on the same Jewish dinner table, or maybe with the invention of new technology, with the ability to ship food before it goes bad, and with the Internet and cable television, recipes and food are more readily available? Maybe that’s the reason for why the two dishes appear on the Cohen’s dinner table. Then I came across the section in Lowenstein’s chapter “Some Favorite Jewish Dishes in Different Parts of the World,” and my questions were answered. “Not only have migrations brought people with different eating traditions together in the same place, but printed cookbooks, radio, and television have promoted the spread of various culinary traditions far beyond their former territorial limits… Not it is more common to ‘mix and match’ recipes from various parts of the world for family menus” (Lowenstein, p. 131)

I really enjoyed reading about how a Jewish recipe varies depending on the region in which the dish is made. I enjoyed learning about the use of different spices and ingredients. I think it would be really interesting for one of my fieldwork assignment to explore more thoroughly the different foods made on certain holidays at different households. Just like how the dishes made at my household on Christmas and Easter vary from my neighbor’s house. What dishes do my friends with family from Eastern Europe make for their holiday meals compared to my friends with family from the Mediterranean region? Do they serve more dishes from one particular region than the other or is it well balanced? Did they know that some dishes are from a particular region or do they assume that these dishes are consumed by all Jews? But my overall question would be: what do they consider to be Jewish food and why?

The whole concept of Jewish identity and what it means to be a Jew is a new concept for me, and I have a difficult time understanding it. The other day when I was walking home from Jewish Experience I was trying to find some aspect in my life that could correlate to this concept but came up empty handed. I was baptized. I celebrated my first communion and was confirmed a member of my church, but none of these, in my eyes, were life changing moments. Yes, I did have to go to six classes to prepare for my confirmation, but the week prior to the service, when the seniors of the congregation came to class to “test” us students of our knowledge, we mostly talked about where we see God in our lives. At the time, I felt extremely fortunate to have a very talkative member in my class because I did not have to utter a single word. How different this is from the classes my Jewish friends had to take to prepare for their bar and bat mitzvahs. Not only did they have to go to Hebrew school, they had to learn a whole new language! (Note: I realize the proper phrase is to “become” bar mitzvah, but since Americans have made their own twist by incorporating a large ceremony and party, I thought it would be appropriate to say “prepare” for this rite of passage)

The concept became even more difficult to conceive this past Monday when we were talking about “What makes Jewish things Jewish?” I thought I had a pretty good idea, but as the conversation progressed, I felt as if my ideas were placed in the interrogation room and crumpled under the pressure. What I had thought when I first walked into the room at 1:30 was completely different from when I left at 2:45.

What does make a Jewish thing Jewish? Is it the object’s creator that makes it Jewish? Is it the object’s purpose? Is it determined by who owns it? These questions are further complicated in recent years with the expansion of the Internet. With the Internet, information can be shared with one another within seconds rather than days no matter the time and place. I can be in Carlisle, PA, but can have a full conversation “face to face” with one of my friends studying abroad via Skype. If I have a question about anything, I can go online and find out the answer with one click of the mouse. With this ability, the boundaries between cultures become more obscure than ever before. For example, we just discussed the Judaizing of the hamsas, an amulet to ward off evil in the Islamic culture. This past weekend my friend’s mom brought her daughter and me a present – a bracelet with the evil eye, the hamsas, and a peace symbol. When we put these bracelets on, her mother said, “These are so in right now girls!” With recent peace efforts and the need to feel a sense of security in a world where there are so many things we don’t know the answers to, I understand the reasoning for these objects to be “in,” but if I wear this bracelet is the hamsas still Jewish? As the hamsas becomes more popular and adopted into the American culture, will it still be considered Jewish or will the same thing that happened when the Jews Judaizing the Islamic amulet?

The same question can be asked about music as Leo wrote in his blog. It’s funny he mentioned the Beastie Boys because as soon as my roommate and I began our discussion of this question outside the classroom, she used them as her example – “The Beastie Boys are Jewish. Does that make their music Jewish? Not in my eyes!” What makes Jewish music Jewish? The same thing can be said with food. How come hot dogs can be considered American, but bratwurst is associated with Germany? How can bagels and lox be considered Jewish when bagels are not consumed everywhere in the world? How did one thing become associated with one culture? Who decides this? What decides this? What makes anything anything?

When I travel to New York City from my home (outside of Washington DC), I normally take the Vamoose bus. This past summer my older brother decided to go visit one of his college friends, who lives in the city and wanted to know about my experiences with this particular company. I told him about the cleanliness, the leg room, the low cost, and its timeliness. In addition, I went on and on about the people who ran the company. I noted that they appeared to be Amish or something. He gave me a perplexed look with the follow-up statement: “Christy, the Amish aren’t allowed to operate machinery.” Well if they weren’t Amish what were they? On the first day of Jewish Experience I saw the exact same clothing and haircut! They were Hasidic Jews with the long ringlets! But what exactly did that mean?

From the first class, I have wanted to ask about the significance of the long ringlets, but I figured sooner or later the topic of “costume” would come up, and it did, but naturally after I read the section in Lowenstein’s The Jewish Cultural Tapestry about “how Jewish men should wear their hair and beards” (p. 152) and then came across the section, “Anti-Jewish Legislation,” I had another set of questions that I wanted to ask. The section about government forcing Jews to adorn certain clothing or hairstyles does not sit well with me. “For example, eighteenth century laws in various German-speaking countries required married Jewish men to wear beards. In Yemen, men were required to wear long, visible sidelocks. In both cases, Jews were made to look different at first glance” (p. 159). I have never been able to understand the purpose of forcing someone to wear something to look different. I mean what if young Jewish men are unable to grow beards? My twenty-three year-old brother struggles to grow facial hair. What then? Would he face consequences with the government? Are Jews that much of a “threat” that the government needed to create laws to help people distinguish them? There are enough factors in the world separating one group of people from another without legislation.

On the other hand, the section about banning certain customs to reduce the level of separation also left a mark in my memory. I may be misinterpreting this section, but the paragraph describing “the Czarist Russian government in 1850 forbidding Jewish men to wear sidelocks” (p. 169) and other “traditional Eastern Europe Jewish costume” (p. 170) reminds me of the incident in France in 2004 when the government banned religious clothing in school. In an attempt to reduce the threat of Islamic extremism, the French government fought to keep religion out of schools. However, not only did their plan create extreme controversies, many young girls were expelled for their continued wear of the religious scarves forcing them to be homeschooled. As a result, they mostly interacted with only Muslims. In a PBS article, it stated, the “law might inflame passions among Muslims in France and around the world.” Similar to the Muslims’ reactions in France in 2004, the “Hasidic sect… refused to accept the decree [of the Czar] and fought it with every means at their disposal” (p. 170).

It is hard for me to imagine being forced to or even being banned from wearing a certain type of clothing. Today I believe clothing is part of your identity. I feel as though clothing should be an expression of who you are without consequences. Regardless of the color or the actual clothing article, people should be able to wear something and not worry about being segregated from others. I look back to the days of elementary school and middle school, when I tried so hard to fit in with everyone else. I cannot imagine what it would be like being forced to wear a cross because I’m Christian or not being able to wear my hair down while studying abroad in Spain because I am an American. There are enough problems in the world. Why inflict more through clothing?

PBS Article: http://www.pbs.org/newshour/extra/features/jan-june04/scarves_3-08.html