Sure, you’ve heard the Jewish stereotypes. In fact, there are probably some I have heard that you have not. Here are some that I have heard over the years.
- Jews own Hollywood.
- All Jews are cheap.
- “Your grandfather was German? But aren’t you Jewish?” (referring to the myth that all Germans are neo-Nazis)
- Jews will be struck down if they go inside a church. (By the way, I am a living testament that this is not true. My brother-in-law is a Baptist minister and was married in a Baptist church; I was at the ceremony.)
- You’re not truly Jewish unless you become a Bar or Bat Mitzvah.
- Jews have money.
I’ve spent my life hearing and fighting these stereotypes. But it wasn’t until I began to get a little older that I realized that I had lived amongst people who truly believed those last two stereotypes.
I vaguely remember very early years of being in the synagogue. I remember hanging out with the other children who were too young to sit through the High Holy Day services. I remember playing games with my classmates and learning the Shema (Deuteronomy 6:4-9) in Hebrew and English. When I was little, nothing else mattered. Then, I started to grow up and saw my classmates and their families for what they were.
When I was growing up, we attended a Conservative synagogue. I never really got along with my Sunday School classmates. Most of them went to expensive private schools and lived in fancier neighborhoods than I did. But it was around twelve that I really felt out of the loop. Every couple of weeks we had the cantor come into our classroom to practice Hebrew with us. It was almost time for everyone to have his or her Bar or Bat Mitzvah, so they all thought it was a good idea. When the cantor asked me if I wanted to read, I refused. His response?
“Okay, you don’t know enough?”
That really hurt my feelings. I wanted to shout, “No, I just don’t feel like it!” which was true. It was then that I recalled some years back when my sister was in the same grade. The rabbi at the time had come into her Sunday School class and said, “How are my Bar and Bat Mitzvah students?” My sister was embarrassed because she knew that she was not. In the same way, I had been embarrassed. I had never felt more ostracized in my entire life — until invitations for Bar and Bat Mitzvah ceremonies started being sent.
Other than me, there were nine children in my Sunday School class — I received one invitation. I declined. It had already been decided by my other classmates that I was not Jewish enough for them. I figured, why bother? I never went to Sunday School again.
Not becoming a Bat Mitzvah does not make me any less Jewish that any other person who practices the Jewish faith. These people hurt and scarred me forever. I sometimes wish that I had been brave enough to tell them off when I was younger, but I suppose it’s better that I didn’t. After all, it’s not for me to judge others — G-d can take care of that Himself.