Jewish Enough.
I grew up using “Jewish” among my top 5 descriptors. If I had to guess, I think my dad would choose “Jewish” among his top 2. Our Jewish ancestry defines almost every aspect of generations of familial experiences. My Jewish ancestry is core to my origin story, and it led directly to our immigration. So then why do I feel the need to add a metaphorical asterisk to the statement, “I am Jewish”? Perhaps even more perplexing - why do I feel a burning desire to clarify this central aspect of my identity to other Jews?
I guess the truth is that in many contexts (especially among American Jews) I don’t feel Jewish enough. After all, in America, Judaism is defined as a religion. Religions are full of rituals and beliefs. So how do you fit under the Jewish umbrella if you don’t practice, and don’t even know how to practice, most of those rituals? What do you say to your colleagues when they’re asking about mourning practices that you’ve never experienced? What do you say to your child’s teacher when she asks about the difference between two holidays? Even more importantly, what do you say to in-laws when they’re asking you to share a Hebrew blessing you never learned?
Yes, I could theoretically launch into a speech about why it’s inappropriate to treat me as a “representative for all Jews”.
Yes, I could theoretically give an abbreviated history lesson about the outlawing of religion in the Soviet Union.
But to be honest, both of these feel burdensome, and most of the time I’m just too tired.
I want to claim the aspects of Judaism that feel authentic and alive in my heart. I want to claim my ancestors’ experience of othering, persecution, and resilience. I want to claim the belonging I felt in Israel. I want to claim the deep comfort I find in chanting familiar prayers and hearing familiar melodies. I want to claim the awe I feel in the presence of the torah. I want to claim the values (particularly the emphasis on education, good deeds, and giving) that remain central in my life. Most of all, I want to claim the inheritance of diaspora, perseverance, and resolve that is written on my nervous system. I am unmistakably irreversibly Jewish … even if I can’t convey that in a quick exchange.
To be perfectly frank, if I struggle claiming my Jewish identity (as someone whose first passport labels them as Jewish) then perhaps conversation is warranted. I wonder what it would look like for members of any in-group (Jews, in this case) to ask, “what does this aspect of your identity mean to you?”. I wonder what it would look like for out-group allies to ask, “what traditions are important to your family?”. I wonder how many times I’ve accidentally alienated loved ones by assuming that their connection to an identity was (or should be) the same as mine. I wonder how we could encourage more conversation and less assumption.
The morning of my Bat Mitzvah, 1998.
