When interviewing for the fieldwork assignment, and again when reading others’ interviews, I couldn’t help but notice how much emphasis was put on fervent protection of and preservation of “Jewishness.”  Several interviewees mentioned interfaith marriage, and the majority adamantly opposed the idea. Since conducting the fieldwork, I have found that these themes continue far beyond these fifty-some individuals.  Throughout Jewish history and geography, the focus of boundaries and acculturation that is so prevalent in this class is all further evidence of the fear many Jews seem to have of “losing” Judaism – either altogether, or as a result of dilution and reformation of Judaism as they know it.

I addressed this topic briefly in my fieldwork paper, but I wanted to explore this idea a little bit further. The first question that came to my mind was why this almost possessive attitude is more associated with Judaism as opposed to some other religions. There seems to be much more conflict between Jews as to what “officially” qualifies as a Jew, whereas Christians often go to greater lengths to include EVERYONE in their religion (through proselytism, etc.) without much consideration of blood lines. One obvious reason might be the frequency of discrimination in Jewish history. Strictly defining the Jewish identity as distinguished from other religions and cultures is a strategy of defense – not only does it generally separate Jews from potential threats from outside cultures, but it unifies them as a collective entity. Conceivably, opposing opinions of two groups of Jewish identity (for example, orthodox vs. reform), especially when involving marriage, could weaken Judaism or even tear it apart.

However, I find it interesting that even with such a logical argument – unification of ideas means unification of cultural identity, which means unification of a people and therefore protection against other groups – Jews are also typically associated with the diversity of outlook implied in the saying “two Jews, three opinions.” The problem with the common orthodox and conservative emphasis on unity by way of determining “what is Jewish” is that you cannot decide for someone else what they are or are not. In class, when discussing what defines Judaism as a culture, Professor Staub pointed out that the beginnings of Judaism initiated by Abraham really did not follow any of the traditional definitions of culture; the only real differentiation between Abraham’s beliefs and the beliefs of his surrounding culture was that he was monotheistic, whereas his hometown of Ur was polytheistic at the time. Essentially, Judaism is a culture set apart from others mainly because Jews view themselves as such. So it seems counterintuitive for members of a culture or religion that is defined so internally to place judgments on others who consider themselves a part of that culture or religion. Therefore, when those Jews who reject people who define themselves as Jews, they are actually destroying the trust and unity that could otherwise protect Judaism as a faith and as a culture.

As I wrote up my fieldwork assignment, countless questions about Jewish identity came to mind. As I said in my paper, it seems as if each individual has his or her own criteria for qualifying Jewishness. It seems that more observant Jews require more traditional requirements, for instance, a Jewish mother. Upon pondering this trend, I realized that that my father’s maternal grandmother is Jewish, which raised the question, is my father Jewish? My father would not identify himself as such. He was raised Roman Catholic by Italian-Roman Catholic parents, attended Catholic elementary school, and called himself an outcast in his predominately Jewish childhood neighborhood. His mother considered herself Catholic, not Jewish. But it seems to me that, by Jewish law, he is Jewish. Can someone be Jewish even if they do not consider themselves so?

I suppose this depends on whom you are asking. My guess is that less observant Jews, those who do not take much heed in the Jewish mother rule anyway, would reply that yes, my father is technically Jewish, but he is not practically Jewish. But what about those that believe that being Jewish means being a descendant of Abraham, inheriting this identity through the matrilineal line, what would they say about my father? Do more observant Jews feel that one must believe in the teachings of Judaism to be Jewish, or that being Jewish is primarily about being a descendant of Abraham? If the former is true, then my father is not Jewish. But if the latter is true, then my father is Jewish.

But what about my great-grandmother’s mother? Was she Jewish? What if she was a convert? What about her mother? I do not know anything about these women, and, as Lowenstein notes, no modern Jew can actually trace his/her ancestry to the Biblical era. So would it be safer to assume that, somewhere down the line, one of my father’s matrilineal ancestors was not Jewish?

My father does not consider himself Jewish. Nor is he battling with the question of being Jewish. But for many, I can imagine that discovering that you are not, according to somebody, Jewish, could be devastating. What if you have considered yourself a Jew for your entire life, to one day find that someone rejects you for who you believe you are? When we create criteria for an identity, it necessarily leaves somebody out (except “human beings” perhaps). But what about those on the boundaries? What happens when the boundaries shift in accordance with each individual’s criteria? When someone considers another a Jew, but someone else does not?

Identity is highly complex, especially when we try to apply our understanding of identity to somebody else. Perhaps it is best if we leave it up to individuals to decide who they are.