Today a Jewish boy hit on me. Well, I assumed he was Jewish because he was wearing a Yamaka. Or maybe he was just a poser.
Whatever he was, he hit on me. BIG time flirt, but maybe he was just trying to be friendly? I just smiled and continued ordering my 6 piece chicken nugget while pondering why this boy was hitting on me to begin with. I didn't look good (makeup-less w.baggy sweats) and I didn't show any interest (my eyes were fixed on the menu with its inappropriately small font). Why would he flirt with me?
Maybe he thought I was Jewish too. I've had this happen many times. For example, when I was in eighth grade (at lil' Columbus School for Girls) my class had a tea party with a holocaust survivor. He discussed how some Jews survived by pretending they were not Jewish. Nevertheless, he informed us, some Jews look a bit too "Jewish" to get away with such lies.
"For example," he told us, "some of you in this room have a Jewish family background. Like you," he said pointing to me, "I can tell by your looks alone."
After the tea party I revealed to the nice old man that I was not Jewish.
"Well," he laughed, "if you were in Munich with me you might have been in trouble!"
This assumption may not be too far off. In fact, for a long time, I even thought my family was Jewish since most family dinners focus on discussion of money or sex. Whether we are authentically Jewish or not, however, remains a mystery. Their is a rumor that my great grandpa on my mother's side was a Hungarian Jew. The story says he fled Europe and changed his last name from Davis to Perrault. Whatever my ancestral history truly is, I have always been interested in Jewish culture. In particular, I have always wondered why the Jews have undergone so much hostility wherever they travel.
Throughout time, the Jewish people have suffered many acts of oppression. In Exodus the Jews suffered under Pharoh. In the mid- 1500’s Martin Luther published a treatise advocating their harsh oppression. In Germany, Hitler worked to extinguish their entire race. Nevertheless, the Jews always have hope!
This assumption may not be too far off. In fact, for a long time, I even thought my family was Jewish since most family dinners focus on discussion of money or sex. Whether we are authentically Jewish or not, however, remains a mystery. Their is a rumor that my great grandpa on my mother's side was a Hungarian Jew. The story says he fled Europe and changed his last name from Davis to Perrault. Whatever my ancestral history truly is, I have always been interested in Jewish culture. In particular, I have always wondered why the Jews have undergone so much hostility wherever they travel.
Throughout time, the Jewish people have suffered many acts of oppression. In Exodus the Jews suffered under Pharoh. In the mid- 1500’s Martin Luther published a treatise advocating their harsh oppression. In Germany, Hitler worked to extinguish their entire race. Nevertheless, the Jews always have hope!
Wishing for something has an uncertainty about it. Hoping, however, has the desire that one day it will indeed come true. Jews seem to have this desire.
Lack of hope can spur on feelings of discouragement and disillusionment. Perhaps this is what Jewish architect Menashe Kadishman was trying to show in his Segments, a piece of art I recently saw on display at the Nasher Sculpture Center. The disillusionment he created by using glass (see-through material) to support the aluminum (as is it were floating) may have reflected the disillusionment that developed when Hope disappeared. And yet, after each missing piece of the sculpture (after each glass segment) the viewer sees white. Perhaps this white is plain hope: a new and vast beginning. The fact that each white piece is balanced and defying gravity may also be the way the artist told his audience that the Jewish people were defying their oppression. Who knows?
Some research showed me that with the Israeli Declaration of Independence, the townspeople of Tel Aviv (where Kadishman is from) were, metaphorically, floating. Balancing (or basing) their lives on this new hope. To me, the word balance itself is almost synonymous to hope... When dancing especially I feel “hope” when “balancing” haha
Oh Tangents.
But yes, like I said...I'm not Jewish, so please don't hit on me.
Lack of hope can spur on feelings of discouragement and disillusionment. Perhaps this is what Jewish architect Menashe Kadishman was trying to show in his Segments, a piece of art I recently saw on display at the Nasher Sculpture Center. The disillusionment he created by using glass (see-through material) to support the aluminum (as is it were floating) may have reflected the disillusionment that developed when Hope disappeared. And yet, after each missing piece of the sculpture (after each glass segment) the viewer sees white. Perhaps this white is plain hope: a new and vast beginning. The fact that each white piece is balanced and defying gravity may also be the way the artist told his audience that the Jewish people were defying their oppression. Who knows?
Some research showed me that with the Israeli Declaration of Independence, the townspeople of Tel Aviv (where Kadishman is from) were, metaphorically, floating. Balancing (or basing) their lives on this new hope. To me, the word balance itself is almost synonymous to hope... When dancing especially I feel “hope” when “balancing” haha
Oh Tangents.
But yes, like I said...I'm not Jewish, so please don't hit on me.
But seriously, didn't he see my fake engagement ring? lol
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