Photoessay #2824 - Locating myself

As I read Jonathan Sarna's American Judaism, I struggled to locate myself.  I intersect his narrative in many places:

Reform Judaism
Jewish Identity in the suburbs
Shlomo Carlebach
Camp Swig
Reconstructionist
Antisemitism
Intermarriage
Assimilation
German vs Eastern Eurpean Jewry
Holocaust/Israel links

My Young Professor pointed out that the word is spelled antisemitism vs anti-semitism as there is no such word as semitism.  Just to be politically correct.

I missed many things

Debbie Friedman
Conservative Judaism
Esther Jungreis
Abraham Joshua Heschel
Changes in Reform Judaism
Orthodox Judaism in general

I really liked his last paragraph; I was going to quote it; I still might.

But, to answer my critics, I need to focus on myself.  Readers of my writing comment, what do you think Sandy?  Where are YOU in this writing?

I'm about the same age as the author; I can see his east coast perspective.  Mainly because my Jewish roots are California.  Like similar things; we bring accept these influences without question or conscious acceptance.

Notice that I have quite a list of intersections.  Of course, there are many many more topics that could go in the list of things I missed.

I was surprised about his statements that in the battles for the attentions for the young Jewish families of the 1950s and 1960s that Conservative Judaism prevailed.  In my experience, I saw few Conservative influences; Reform was everywhere I saw.  But the author is from the East Coast; that might be his view; and the number might support him.  As an adult, when I've participated in Jewish congregations and organizations, they've always been substantially to the left of Reform; 'peace and freedom Judaism' I called it.  But not quite to the secular Judaism side.

Both of my parents grew up in New England.  My mother came from the High German Jews, those that came generally in the 1840s and (sometimes) prospered.  When I look back over the last five generations, sometimes there was money and affluence and sometimes there wasn't.  When my mother was growing up, there wasn't money; all lost.  My mother would talk about, when she grew up in New Haven, her crowd generally looked down on the Russian and Polish Jews.

My father's grandparents were Eastern European.  Both of his parents were children of immigrants.  But they did not settle in New York City nor did they have the oft referred to left wing sympathies.  My father did not reflect on his life or background with me; he was withdrawn and generally either not interested or unwilling to talk with me about this.

I do talk to my surviving aunt; she loves to talk about her family.  Loves to talk in general.  By the time my parents married in 1950, that distinction had nearly disappeared.  In fact, my father's family was distinguished and affluent and my mother's family was enduring poverty.

I have picked out many pictures as I've been writing but I'll use the picture of my paternal grandparents.  They are elderly (in their 80s) in this picture.  But look how healthy and self-assured they look.  It's hard for me to resolve their successful life with their background.  To me, they were always proper, educated, sophisticated.  From Boston, with the associated speech; everything just so.   My grandfather, with his Harvard classically-educated ways, my grandmother always elegantly dressed.  My grandfather never without a jacket and tie.  My grandmother knew Yiddish but wouldn't admit it.  No Yiddish phrases graced their speech.  My grandfather spoke about philsophy and history.  He liked to take classic books off his shelf and read in the original Greek and Latin.  Their children attended prestigious colleges.

So how does this fit into the image of the masses of uneducated migrants crowded in New York tenements?  It doesn't.

I was my grandfather's favorite.  I could do no wrong in his eyes, though he was highly critical of most everybody else.  But he always broke into a smile when he saw me.  My mother could generally handle him.  The only time he brought her to tears was when my brother started college at San Diego State and was having a successful time, but my grandfather thundered that his grandson should not attend a lowly state college, he MUST attend the University of California.  A state college was NOT good enough.  And he did transfer to the University of California.

I could write more about these intersections.....