Personal Narrative: My Life As A Jew

Sitting in a comfortable leather chair on a cloudy January day, I sat in a house and interviewed Susan Gustavson, a life long Jew that is in her mid-fifties. She is a graduate of UC Berkeley and Columbia University, where she got an MBA in marketing. She told me about her opinions on the Judaism.

Mallory, raised in a small town in North Carolina by her mother, was not told that she was Jewish until she was eighteen years old and heading off to college. Her mother decided to keep her religious affiliations from Mallory because she didn’t want her daughter to be singled out as the town “Jew.” There were two very interesting ideals about this story to me. Firstly, Mallory took on the idea that she was innately Jewish, like an ethnicity. She told the story as if she had always been Jewish, but her mother hid her identity from her, and once she found out, she could be her true self. As Mallory left for school, she instantly embraced Jewish culture and dedicated her free time to learning Jewish prayers, Hebrew and exploring more about her past. This is one of the greatest indicators, to me as an outsider, of the familial and ethnic identity that Jews possess. Secondly, her mother’s reasoning for hiding this religious identity speaks to the ethnic properties of Judaism. With the inherent “melting pot” that the United States is, there are many different ethnicities, religions and skin colors represented everywhere in the States. Most minorities, however, are signaled out for their ethnicities. People are, unfortunately, known for being Hispanic, Asian, Indian, etc. above anything else, but those who practice Judaism are known

On my visit to Adas Israel, I felt safe and welcomed into the Jewish community, even though I am not Jewish myself. Although, being with my Jewish friend may have caused me to not stand out as much, opposed to if I had attended morning prayers alone. Although African Americans comprise certain forms Judaism, majority of them are Black Hebrew Israelites (also called Black Hebrews). Black Hebrews do follow and participate in Jewish rituals. However, they are not considered by the Jewish community as being “Jewish”, unless they have undergone conversion by an official sector of Judaism. While majority of congregation members carried on throughout the service as if I didn’t exist, a few still seemed skeptical of my participation and presence in their sacred

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

I was in the Buchenwald camp when I heard about the defeat of the German Army at the Stalingrad. I was excited, and wished that I had witnessed the defeat in person so that I can laugh at the German soldiers. However, my imaginary laughter was halted when one of the guards hit the floor with a bat thrice, which means labor time. My role in the camp was to wake up before sunrise, work the entire day and starve. The camp is the most dreadful place I have ever encountered. Yet, this may not be true for the SS guards, who can visit the zoo or the brothel in the camp anytime they desire (Bergen “Chapter 7”). Fortunately, I was blessed with my skills I acquired in the Volkswagen, for it assigned me into one of the workshops that build war supplies for Germany. The starvation in the camp is intense, for a chunk of bread

Lately, I‘ve been thinking a lot about the- for lack of a better term- “culture shock” in which I live. I am a black, non-religious, uber-liberal, female; a lot of my beliefs have formed through information that I have sought out through various mediums. I come from a super-religious family that lives in the suburbs and the inner city. They have beliefs that are “democratic”, while being rooted in religious extremes. I live in a community of people who are mostly Caucasian, and have for over 4 years. A lot of them are religious, and there are varying political beliefs. I get a lot of weird vibes from both communities and sometimes I feel like I exist in a weird gray area that inhibits my ability to fit in with my surroundings.

Bagels, big noses, curly hair, and penny pinching, are some of the common stereotypes of being Jewish. I’ve experienced all of them. My mother's side of the family is all Jewish. This Jewish heritage strongly differs from my father's side who are all of indian descent. Over the years, I have experienced challenges with my faith, especially the split between my divorced Jewish mom and Hindu dad. Even with this challenge, my mom has always been able to keep me on the page of Jewish faith and for this, I’m thankful. My faith has never come to me easy, and for a long time I questioned it constantly. I’ve found that when you really invest in something you discover the good and the bad and that's exactly what I experienced with Judaism.

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.

Whether it's trying strange food like quail eggs, searching for bargains at flea markets, or singing Broadway songs at the top of our lungs, my aunt, Lisa Vogel, and I have enjoyed many unique experiences together and developed a very close relationship. Lisa lives close to Minneapolis and she is a teacher at a special needs program for students after high school. She is very involved in theatre, loves to sing, is involved at her church, is a great cook (and hey, I definitely benefit from her marvelous fettuccini alfredo), enjoys craft projects, and especially loves her nieces and nephews and her dog Lulu Cupcake. Lisa is so important to me because of the inspiration she gives me, her caring and loving nature, and the experiences we've had

When I think of my "cultural identity," my religion--Judaism--comes to mind first and foremost. When I think of my Jewish identity in conflict, racism (in my case "anti-Semitism") is the obvious factor. But to fully define my conflict with my religious identity, I cannot only write from personal experiences with racism. I must also include the anti-Semitism that my forefathers have endured, from the beginning of time up to today, ranging from the Spanish Inquisition to the Holocaust, from the massacre at the Munich Olympics to Iraq's actions in the Persian Gulf War. From direct racism and intended hatred to subtle racism in the form of jokes and passing comments, anti-Semitism has played a big part in my

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.

My mom has two sisters Anat, the middle sister, and Maital, The youngest one. When I lived in Israel me and her were so close because my dad flu a lot and my mom want with him so she babysitted us all the time. Every year me and her went to the movie Fast and Furious, and then we go bowling or eat lunch. I remember that one night my mom came to my bad and asked me what will I think if we moved to New York City me and my brother did not believe her. Until one day we drove to Jerusalem and we met with a guy that interviewed us, for the Heschel school. Then we understood that their is a big chance that we will move. I was so excited because I love changes but then I realized how unfair that i am not going to see my family for a full year. Maital

What I did to deliver WOW: When I was in my boyfriend’s room the other day, I over heard them talking about something I felt I could help with. My boyfriend and his roommate did not have a fridge, and had been sharing with their sweet mates (who often weren’t in their room). Normally, this wouldn’t seem like such a big deal, but to the guys (who are both athletes here at Lindenwood) it was because they drink about four bottles of water a day, each. I realized that my mini fridge hadn’t even been plugged in yet, and that they would get more use out of it than I would. So my big wow was that I gave them my fridge, and then got it all cleaned out and set up in their room for them.

As a member of Jewish family, I grow up with Muslim and Christian friends in Hatay, Turkey. Back then, it was an unusual situation for country like Turkey, maybe still is. However, I never felt left out due to my race or religion at there. In my hometown, racism is not an issue to talk about. It is same for the most part of Turkey. Unfortunately, when I came to US I felt discriminated in my life for the first time. After long process of getting visa, having weird problems at the airport, overpriced apartment (just for international student), etc. All of these are simple examples of discrimination from my life in

our loud booms echo throughout the stone house. “Open the door!” a man would yell. Five kids and the parents quickly run over to the door. The father opens the door while the kids and the wife peek over his shoulder and legs. An intimidating IDF soldier roars, “We are taking over your house and you must leave within the night. If you refuse you will be jailed and/or your house will be demolished with you in it or not.” The family is forced to leave within the night in the fear that their lives would end. This is common in Palestine: Israeli soldiers taking occupied land. Palestinians that experience this take their ID’s and official documents with them. Barely anytime is left to the family to pack their belongings. I am a Palestinian, and even though I haven’t dealt with this firsthand, my parents and grandparents have dealt with this.