Weekend self-care: Jewish American Heritage Month
Late 1970s/early 1980s. Washington Heights, New York City. 175th Street and St. Nicholas.
Across from my apartment was a synagogue. I've checked, it's still there.
Every Friday evening I'd see Jews trundling in through the door for Shabbat. My neighborhood was not Jewish. It used to be, along with Italian and Irish. But, as the former residents achieved the American Dream, they moved out, to be replaced by we new strivers. But, for some reason, the synagogue remained open and with a congregation.
What I also noticed. None of the buildings on my block had graffiti. For New York in that time, that was a miracle. None of the buildings. Save for the synagogue.
It was long ago. I don't remember anything antisemitic scrawled there by the knuckleheads. But the knuckleheads did see that building as "Other", not of them, and thus fair game.
Was it my parents teaching me right from wrong? Was it the fact that my sainted mother worked for a Jewish man and loved him? (The only wine she ever drank was the Manischewitz that he gifted her every Christmas.) Was it because my wonderful pediatrician was not only Jewish, but Cuban like us? I don't know. But I saw the fact that the synagogue was tagged while the rest of the block wasn't—and certainly not the Church of the Incarnation kitty corner from us—as wrong. And that's when I began to take into myself that Jews were Other, and the scapegoats, and that wasn't right.
May is Jewish American Heritage Month. Antisemitic incidents are rising the world over because people who know nothing about the conflicts in the Middle East have adopted Gazans as their pets. They don't actually care anything about Gaza; if they did, they'd be speaking out against their immediate oppressors, the terrorist thugs of Hamas. But they've deluded themselves into thinking that Hamas is actually a leftist utopian movement, and as soon as they rid the Levant of those filthy Jews they will pivot and have gay rights and religious freedom. (Except for Jews.) And antisemitic incidents are on the rise in the United States. But far less so than elsewhere. This is the promise of America, which Jews and Black folks and Latinos and immigrants from around the world have seized. It's not perfect. But it's better than anywhere else.
So this weekend we will celebrate this refuge for Jews and all the despised of the earth. For all the trouble through which we are wading, this is what makes America truly great.
As always, dear friend, be ever kind, gentle, and joyful with yourselves and those around you.