Personal Narrative: My Jew

Much of the wisdom and knowledge I have today I owe great thanks to she. If it wasn’t for all the inspiring, insightful books I would never know such a greater world. Our many traditions still lay intact, but we have set any new ones in the recent years. Every Sunday she comes over to watch the sport games with us and then we all get together and create a fantastic mouth watering dinner. She was an unbelievable cook in her day and now I have learned many of her secrets and hope my cooking is

Before I begin this assignment, let me clarify, I am not Jewish in any way.

Growing up with two different Heritages is like growing up in two different worlds, it was tough growing up being Native and Hispanic I would either get made fun of because I was Native or I was made fun of for being Hispanic. I guess you can say that I have somewhat of a different life, living with any Hispanic family but considering myself more Native, because just at home i just speak spanish, and eat amazing food made by my mother who isn’t even Hispanic who’s just Native American who didn’t consider herself Native American because she herself lived with my grandmother or she lived with a family friend who was Hispanic and showed her things about a culture that she didn’t know anything about.

At the beginning of sixth grade, I met my two future best friends, and I did not like them. I found one boring, the other frustrating and hard to understand. I couldn’t connect with the first, and I didn’t want to bother trying to get to know the second. Not long after, however, we became inseparable. So now it’s the three of us— my Jewish identity, mathematics, and me.

Just as with any dissection, whether it’s an onion or a fetal pig, the exterior must first be peeled away in order for the interior to be analyzed. My exterior epitomizes a typical lifestyle. I was born and raised in Orange County, just like countless others. But, I am a first-generation student raised by refugees whose broken English drove my understanding of the language in the wrong direction. I am tall and fair-skinned, just like countless others. But, I am a Muslim Palestinian whose religion was demonized and ethnicity negated. I grew up encouraged to pursue secondary education from birth, just like countless others. But, I left high school after my sophomore year. These unique attributes aren’t the only ways I differ from my peers, but

Judaism is not being born into a Jewish home, but spending your life learning, teaching, and transmitting. The five books of the Torah teach the foundation to how the Jewish people evolved over years of prosperity. Following the books of Torah, and being a part of the Jewish faith requires several different rules, or commandments, to be followed. There are expectations to be met and a life time of traditions to be learned, for instance, the holidays and how to pray and recite prayers in a certain manner. These traditions can only be taught from doing and watching generations of loved ones partake in God’s will. For the past several months, I have experienced these traditions and teachings through the eyes of Orthodox Jews. An analysis of the

Sorry in advance if this is be too much information for some. . . .

Culture and identity are inextricably linked concepts. Identity is formed by your culture and in turn your identity shapes the respective cultures of the groups you identify with. I belong to many different cultural groups, and my identity is a complex web of competing and conflicting beliefs, experiences, and characteristics. My identity is not only complex, but also dynamic, as the experiences I have change who I am.

I have been alive for half of a moon and seventeen rotations of the Earth around the sun. I am a physically alive body with my brain presiding as the conductor. I am a woman, destined from birth to carry an insidious pink weight, but its weight does not bear down for its ubiquitous nature. I have felt the burden of a lifelong weight and it is easy to forget it is still there. My shoulders ache chronically, but most of the time I hardly notice. My hair sometimes has a life of its own, wild and free, yet somewhat coarse and textured like the Jew I am, and I carry it with pride. I carry the struggles of my ancestors, my brethren, and those who were before me and paved the road I now walk. I am my grandparent’s identity, from Lipshitz, to Lipton at Ellis Island, and finally to Moll

Growing up in Israel where military service is not an option but rather the norm is very different mentality. In fact it is somewhat unique. In the United States you are required to register for the draft but chances are that most Americans will not be fighting a war unless they make the conscious choice to join the military. In Israel, this is different. Every person over eighteen years of age has to serve 3 years if they are a male and females serve for two. There is no way getting around that. We are raised with the notion that once we reach a certain age we will be required to serve in an environment shall we say not too conducive to our health.

When I first came to Southern, the first person that I formed a connection with was my RA Jazymn. She was not only easy to talk to, but she was there for every one of her residents in every way possible. She was able to make me feel comfortable, like I had a place at Southern before I made friends. She made me feel like I could do anything I put my mind to because of how supportive she was. She was the positive motivation that I needed when making the change from high school to college. In my personal life I am the person my friends come to with problems, I am always the voice of reason and I know when enough is enough. I want to be the reason these students love Southern, the positive person in my residents lives that are routing them on

My personal beliefs are interventionist. I feel social conditions are substantial factors in creating barriers and that it is society's responsibility to dismantle them. Discrimination in society plays a large role in who can participate in activities, for example in wrestling you wouldn’t expect individuals with limited mobility to be active in the sport. With a proactive, student centered, open minded, differentiated instruction approach we can dismantle the barriers that are created by society, thereby reestablishing equity for all. Referring back to my example I have witnessed blind, deaf, and congenital hand deformities perform exceptionally well in wrestling with the encouragement of coaches, teachers and parents. I have seen these barriers

Growing up in suburban Cincinnati, Ohio, I’ve spent most of my life surrounded by sameness. Everyone had the same skin color, the same religion, the same financial situations, the same interests, eventually people even started to look the same. While on the surface I seamlessly blended in with the others, there was something that separated me more than most would think. I was born into a Jewish family, and my mother instilled in my sister and I from a young age to be active in our religion. We went to sunday school for ten years and now are both assistants in the classes, we joined Jewish youth groups, we both had our Bat Mitzvahs and our Confirmation services, and I teach Hebrew to students weekly. Being a Jew has always been a constant in my life.

Wrapped in the history and culture of East Asia. Unaware to me, I became enthralled by the language, art and culture of East Asia.  The colors are vibrant. Catching my attention, I can’t seem to look elsewhere. It took me awhile to find my fit. My parents since I a little kid had a dream for me to become a doctor. Coming to the last stages of high school I realized that was not the right choice for me because of different amount of reasons. An exceeding amount of arguments between my parents and myself. My mom came to me and told me of a major that she said would fit me. I did not know East Asian Studies was a subject until my mom researched it. At that moment I found the career to pursue. Now Even I have to admit mothers are always right.

Unfortunately, she was not able to attend another pottery, craft sale show. She had undergone chemotherapy treatment two days prior. Knowing how she depended on this income, I volunteered to do it for her, to be honest, I didn't really want to, I have so much I need to do to prepare for college, but she really needs the money to pay her mounting medical bills. So I was able to set up and run the booth for her. Once again, I got more out of helping her than I ever could imagine. So many of her pottery students, and her regular customers asked how she was doing. Everyone was so concerned. Loretta adds warmth to a room, when she is not there her presence is greatly missed. It like a sun hidden behind a cloud on a windy day. She always offers to pay me, but there is no way I can take any money from her, she has given me so much. When she thanks me, with tears in her eyes, I know I did the right thing and I would do it all over again. Our friendship is unique, we both have something to give to each other. Mine is time and strength hers is kindness and