Happy (Belated) #PreservationDay
I know I'm 2 days late for #PreservationDay but I wanted to post this bc it's pretty important to me and tbh I've never in my entire life laid out my Jewishness in front of my eyes to inspect, so I suppose this'll be good for me. To start off with, my family can trace its jewishness back for quite a long time, at least on my mother's side. We're kohanim, but from there until my abuelo is pretty muddled. On my dad's side it's harder. I never met my Safta Leah, my dad told me she was an Israeli family, been there since the beginning I think. My Saba Dudu (my bisabuelo btw) came to Israel as a teenager from... Romania, I think? to get away from the roundups for the concentration camps. I was too little to really try to understand him when he was alive, and he passed away before I had the chance. We're made up of four families, my family: my abuela, my abuelo, my saba, and my safta. I'll start out with my abuela bc there's the least to tell; they were Russian Jews who fled the country after Kristallnacht, the majority of the family ended up in Argentina, but my abuela's particular branch of the family ended up in Uruguay. I know fairly little about my abuelo's side of the family except that we are kohanim through him, I think we had Jewish doctors in the family for a couple generations on that side. Still feel kind of guilty that my adoration for science is all-encompassing rather than pointed in that particular direction. He lived in Uruguay where he and my abuela sent my mom to hebrew school. That's all I really know about that side of the family, aside from that some people on my mom's side were from Romania too, some were from Poland, and that some ended up in... France, I think? I remember asking my mom and being surprised about one of the countries on the list, I think that was it. And that's it for Jewishness on that side of the family. Now for my dad's side. For my safta's parents, they made the trip to escape Poland on foot up into Saudi Arabia and back down. I don't know if she was born yet, I don't think so. They were a young couple, had owned small businesses in Poland. I never met them. I think it was my saba who once told me they were movie stars. I don't even know anymore. I know my safta changed her name, but I don't even know her maiden name. So much was lost in the mixing-up during and after the Holocaust, so much was muddled, so much was lost in the fleeing and the burning and the murder. Apparently half my family tree was wiped out. I could have had so many more cousins. I talked about Saba Dudu (his real name was Naftali but my dad gave him that nickname as a kid and it stuck so now we all use it) and Safta Leah above. And that's it, really. Saba Dudu had a brother and they split up after escaping the Holocaust, his brother moving to London. His name was Wolfsham. Wolfgang? Wolfsheim? Hell if I know. Need to ask my dad. As far as my dad knows, he didn't have kids, and I don't even know how old he'd be. Just another story, I suppose. Lost family history. But now we get into the lives of my mom and dad. Neither of them grew up particularly religious, between my mom growing up a terror of a second child under mix between Uruguayan dictature and socialism and my father just kind of being that one aloof kid that was really hard on himself his whole life in a not-very-religeous family. My parents grew up very Uruguayan and very Israeli, but not particularly Jewish. So when my mom moved to Israel for university and when they later moved here for my mom's doctorate and to have me, I guess it all kind of got smudged in the assimilation into American culture. So now I'm not really Jewish and not really Israeli and not really Uruguayan. I'm just sort of... Californian. It probably doesn't help that our nearest family is a double-digit hour plane ride away. So I guess it's kind of important for me to subscribe to some of the practices, but we've never kept kosher, we've never built a sukkah, and there's always been sort of a disconnect between religion and me because having Israeli parents (and since she lived there for 10+ years my mom definitely counts) has made religion a kind of cultural thing to me, and there's always been this cultural disconnect between me and everyone around me. We're a bit of a microcosm, my family. I mean, what I can say is I have a menorah and I know most of those blessings. That's about it aside from an ingrained anxiety response to Holocaust-related buzzwords, but I blame my hebrew school for that. It has nothing to do with my Jewishness. I am, however, firmly pro-Palestinian, but not to the point where I believe that all the Israeli citizens in Tel Aviv pack up and leave, but I know that this occupation of the West Bank and Gaza is unacceptable. The racism and the islamophobia is unacceptable. The gated communities are unacceptable and blatantly illegal. The pervasive ingrained islamophobia in both Israel and the US is unacceptable. I disagree with my family violently over this, and it is scary how deeply engrained in them it is. This is the one thing that, if it is a part of Jewishness, I want no part in. For everything else, I wish I had been a part of it. I wish I could speak Hebrew. I wish I could speak Yiddish. I wish I knew even half the things about our culture that the Jewish Community Center kids know. But I don't, and I won't, but if I have a kid, I'll raise them to be Jewish because, dammit, we're kohanim. And I think that's supposed to mean something.















