The (almost) Insider.
My family recently attended a Ukrainian festival. The organizers were raising money to support families and soldiers near the front lines. So I was eager to contribute, taste Eastern European food, and be in a space full of immigrants. Afterwards, my husband asked, “did it feel good to be around people like you?”. My response was a prolonged “welllllllllllll…” ‘cause I’m not Ukrainian, and they haven’t been historically welcoming to Jews. “Would a Russian festival have felt better,” he asked. “HECK NO!” We were told over and over again that we’re not Russian, so even in the US, Jewish and non-Jewish folk from Russia feel separate. This makes finding “people like me” especially elusive. Here’s a short list of places where I “should” belong, but don’t:
Russian stores/gathering places (see note about NOT being Russian)
Most synagogues (‘cause not knowing the prayers gets me the side-eye)
Israeli events (though many Israelis have a similar immigration background)
It’s not surprising that I struggle with belonging. Eastern European Jews were raised on a steady diet of rejection and disdain. Those aspects of my identity were almost designed to be isolating. But I’m learning to find solidarity through other lenses like parenting. Here’s a short list of places where I feel surprisingly comfortable.
My child’s school (where I’m just a mom, and I understand the expectations as well as any other mom)
Our local Taiwanese restaurant (where we’re such frequent customers that my youngest runs up to play with the owner’s daughter)
The library (SO many different peoples are welcomed here, and there’s a shared appreciation of QUIET)
