Jewey Jew Jew Jew

New York is so Jewey, it never ceases to amaze me. For example, over Christmas EVERYONE said “Happy Holidays” and no one said “Merry Christmas.” Also, next to most Christmas trees was a Menorah. My boss told me there’s a saying “There’s more Jews in New York than in Israel.” So then why is a nice Jewish boy so hard to find.

Perhaps I’m not Jewey enough. Even though my father is a non practicing Jew, the fact that my mother is a ‘gentile,’ means I’m out of the sacred circle. (Religion is passed down through the mother.) Plus growing up in Queensland, where there are no Jews, meant the closest I ever got to their culture was trying a bagel with cream cheese - and that was after graduating and moving out of home.

 (menorah in the lobby of Ada's building)

Here, there’s a bagel shop on every corner and in front of these shops, there is a street-cart selling more bagels. Jewish holidays headline the news, most comedians seem Jewish, Newyorker’s even talk in ‘Jew’; Yidish words like “shlep” and “shmutter” are heard in general conversation. I secretly long to be a part of their mysterious culture that I know nothing about, and also… I want to wear a yamikah. Is that weird?

“YOU DON’T LOOK JEWISH!” Aunt-Ada will yell suspiciously when ever she glances at my profile. She’s right. My nose is distinctly from my Australian heritage. (I’m seventh generation on my mother’s side.) I’m pretty sure she suspects we’re not related at all. But this doesn’t stop me trying; this year alone, I’ve eaten more bagels with cream cheese than most Australians have in their entire life.

It’s odd that Ada’s Caribbean carers have taught me more about Jewish tradition,  than my own family has.

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I do feel I have one foot in the door though. I can identify with their neurotic tendencies, their over analytical though process and the way they find humor in tragedy. And I do feel at home in a sea of people who have brown hair and brown eyes. In my classes I’ve met loads of short, brunette, Jewish girls – who are just like me, into the same things as me, who even write like me. To me, they are my clones. But to them? Well I’m just ‘the quirky Aussie.’  

Aye Aye Aye!