The Only Jew in Town Tales #2
I did not have a Jewish upbringing, but I always knew that I was Jewish. There was always a primal pull to the Tanakh, what was called in my childhood "The Old Testament".
My great-grandmother survived the Holocaust. She fled to the US with a husband and had children pretty young. Her husband was Christian, and the Ozarks were Christian, and my grandfather was raised Christian with some Jewishness tossed in from time to time. My grandfather married my Christian (and now a little antisemetic) grandmother; they divorced young, and my grandmother raised all of her girls Christian. My mother abandoned me when I was young and I was adopted by a dirt-poor, white trash, Christian Nationalist family. (Not trying to insult anyone, it was simply the environment I grew up in.)
Despite all of the outside influence, I always clung to the Jewish part of me, and for most of my childhood it seemed involuntary. I simply wanted to know, and there was no one to teach me. My grandmother's like for Jews lessened after her divorce, and she wasn't going out of her way to teach me about Judaism when she herself knew nothing of it. My step-family actually could not have given a flying fuck about my interest in Judaism, and my Jewishness was really only mentioned as an insult, as was my Cherokeeness. As a result, I studied alone.
I could not understand most of the holidays and texts, not only because I was a child stumbling around on the internet, but because I had no one to interpret these really big thoughts with me. My version of celebrating Jewish holidays was finding TV specials and animated films that reflected the holidays, particularly Rugrats, The Prince of Egypt, and Veggie Tales when applicable. I abstained from foods that I knew to, and adopted a vegetarian diet to be more like Adam and Eve. I read all of the stories, memorized the plots by heart, and developed a profile for every character.
When I was 14, I was privileged enough to visit Europe, and my trip ended in Germany at the Dachau concentration camp. I had always been interested in Holocaust literature and WW2, and my visit there is what I consider the true beginning of my Jewish story. I was agnostic and invested in witchcraft, and I found that I was strongly pulled to Kabbalah, which I still study to this day.
These interests and studies stayed private until about my mid-20s. I understood that most people around me had an idea of what a Jew was (at the nicest, it was a "Messianic Jew") and I decided that I could be Jewish on my own, to a degree. When I was 26, I suddenly wanted to move to a big city. Well, not suddenly--I had wanted to live there for years--but now I was willing to totally abandon my life to start something new. While struck with this inspiration and making plans, I went to the bookstore in town to pick up a copy of G-d is a Verb. While I was there, the most peculiar sight beheld to me: Walking into the section as I was walking out were three black-hatted, curl-wearing Jewish men. I was awe-struck: It was my first time knowingly seeing another Jew in the wild. It was also a sign for me to move.
When I relocated, I relocated smack dab in the middle of a vibrant Jewish community, completely by chance. My Jewish identity has developed so much, I have learned so much, and I absolutely love my community. To make up for the lack of a Jewish upbringing, I underwent a conversion course and received a fancy little certificate that says I'm a Jew. There is no question about it now, and I have it framed in my living room.
There is no question that my children will be raised Jewish. What they choose to do as adults is between them and G-d, but I want to give them the spiritually enriching, mind-expanding, community-oriented childhood that I did not have. I want to share my pride in our culture and heritage, and I want to share the beauty of our religion.
My familial circle has decreased since I moved, too. A lot of my Christian relatives took it personally that I would rather embrace Judaism, and as a result my family is limited to an aunt, two cousins, a step-brother, and a half-brother. All of them are lazily Christian, but give me the space and respect that I deserve. I choose to spend Christmas with them since they understand that my primary focus is Hanukkah, and they're cool with it. It is a nice change of pace from the casual antisemetism and stigma that I experienced in school and from other family members. I am truly blessed by those that love me. <3
Thanks for reading my tale. Can you relate? Do you care to tell us about your journey in the comments?
