In and Proud

While I was born in the US, I was raised with European, old-world values, which would often have American contemporaries not quite getting where I'm coming from. 

In high school, the morahs couldn't really make up their mind: one minute it was all, "Eisav soneh es Yaakov," how the world hates us, etc., and the next it would be, "If you are an outwardly proud Jew, everyone respects you." 

Exasperated, I tried to counter their rather flawed logic, and said that we are not in our own country, and we shouldn't be flaunting our Jewishness, that my grandfather, who survived the war, said this. The teacher sneered, "Oh, so you believe in 'when in Rome.'" 

Another classmate, from the same background as myself, chimed in, but the morah could not or would not understand what we meant. I was in near tears as she insinuated that my grandfather, who fasted on Yom Kippur while starving in the labor camps, was not a proud Jew.

If we went out to the city on a rare Chol HaMoed outing, my father told my brothers to tuck in their tzitzis and wear a baseball cap. As for attending the Israeli Day Parade? Nuh-uh, not happening.

Some take this to mean that we are not proud Jews. Then I realized that "proud" nowadays means "out and proud." Meaning, if I am proud of who I am, that means I have to announce it to the world, and expect that world in turn to celebrate me. 

But what does my own personal pride have to do with the world at large? Isn't that my own, internal, business? 

Han works primarily with non-Jews. And you know what? They aren't always so nice about him being observant. I myself endured years of verbal smack about Judaism from my secular Jewish employer (to be fair, he was also sexist and racist).

Oh, there always a story here and there, about so-and-so who went to work somewhere and their boss had a wonderful experience with a Jew and because of that makes him head partner or something, but for every story like that, there are plenty of examples when an observant Jew was discriminated against by a non-Jew or even Jewish (secular) boss. 

In high school, they regaled us with stories about frum women who refused to shake hands with men, and how they were accommodated, and even admired. While in the NY Times The Ethicist, a woman wrote in, irate, that after a business deal her frum counterpart wouldn't shake her hand and Roger Cohen (cough cough), the ethicist at the time, affirmed her belief that this was sexist behavior and she was within her rights to no longer work with him. 

We can't have it both ways. Our people survived through thousands of years of violence and murder—now we're going to claim that to be a proud Jew means announcing it? Not so long ago, outward pride got you dead. 

My great-grandfather, it was said, was a Belzer chassid. He kept his streimel "in the credenza." Meaning, it never left the house. He wore it at his own table, never outdoors.

My Zeidy would say that if you want to be an "out and proud" Jew, make aliyah. That's our land, our place. But chutz la'aretz? Keep your elbows tucked in. This isn't our land. Yes, it did a wonderful job melding in all sorts of different races and cultures, but everyone experienced racism (even the Italian and Irish immigrants a century ago).  

I'm a proud Jew, even if you don't believe me.