Alef: The NEXT Conversation

Chatsworth, CA (818)

By Eli Raber

I grew up in Chatsworth, CA, which is known for three things – Charles Manson, the adult film industry, and for being the current home of Kevin Federline. Chatsworth, or as we called it, “Chatsworth-less,” is located in the San Fernando Valley and is part of the City of Los Angeles.

I attended a Jewish day school through middle school, and begged my parents to allow me to spread my wings and attend public high school. After much negotiating, I was allowed to enroll in Chatsworth High. For the first time, I was immersed in the rainbow of the human experience, and not trapped in a bubble of the Jewish day school existence that I was used to. My school was largely white, but had a growing Asian population, a substantial Latino presence, and a small number of black students that were mostly bussed in from L.A. proper. I thought it was great to have friends of all hues, but tensions ran high and there were several race brawls throughout my time there.

For the most part, I was embraced for being Jewish. When I didn’t show up for football practice on Rosh Hashanah, my teammates jokingly asked when the next Jewish holiday was so they could skip practice too. But I wasn’t always so comfortable. Before taking the field prior to each game, the coach or one of my teammates would lead us in prayer. It always ended with “in Jesus’ name.” I was afraid to say anything and quietly endured my embarrassment. I would quickly say the Shema to myself after the team prayer, hoping that would absolve me of my guilt.

Sometimes, there was racial tension on the team. The whites saw me not as a Jew but as another white, and the blacks on my team saw me as a Jew – a minority like them. I was nervous about being put in the middle of these two racial groups since I had friends in both circles. My teammates recognized the tension and would, at times, come to me to mediate between the two groups – I soon earned the nickname “Rabbi Raber.”

After my sophomore year, I went to Israel for two months on a teen tour. I connected with the land and people of Israel and began to take possession of my Jewish identity. I remember visiting Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum, and walking outside the children’s memorial, seeing the stunning panoramic views of Jerusalem. I recall Shabbat on the beach and working on a Kibbutz for three weeks. I learned my name, Eli, had a strong and powerful Hebrew meaning, and was not the “boy named Sue” situation I thought it was. The trip gave me a sense of pride and helped me forge a connection to my people’s history. I remember standing on top of Masada and for the first time feeling, and believing, that I was a link in the Jewish historical chain.

Shortly after returning from the trip, I was back at school and enjoying my new sense of pride for being Jewish. Then, one day, as I was eating lunch with the usual cast of characters, a few members of the white supremacist gang called my name and started walking towards me from across the quad. My mind started racing. “What had I done to piss these guys off?” I thought. “Man, I am in so much trouble.” As I turned my head to gauge the reactions of my friends, I realized they had scattered…I was all alone.

There were about six of them dressed in full regalia. When they approached, I stood up and the leader said, “Raber, something’s different about you this year. We want you to join our crew.”

I was shocked; I thought they were coming to get me, but as it turned out, what they wanted was for me to enlist! My brain was scrambling to think of what to say in response. Obviously, I was not going to join their neo-Nazi gang but how was I supposed to turn them down? Could I blame my parents? Could I tell them I didn’t want to join any gang, no offense to theirs? What excuse could I use? Then, a bit of calm washed over me, and I realized it was natural to be scared, that I was who I was.

“I appreciate the offer,” I said, “but I cannot join your gang – I am a Jew.”

Their eyes lit up like the 4th of July. My “fight or flight” response kicked in, and I wondered which one of them would punch me first, where could I escape to, and damn it, where did my friends go!

The thugs turned to each other, had a mini-conference, and turned back to me. “That’s okay,” they said “we’ll make an exception for you and agree not to hate Jews anymore, we’ll just hate everyone else.”

On some level, I had to appreciate their level of organizational flexibility, but I informed these confused young men that their gang would lose credibility with the other neo-Nazis if they had a Jew amongst them. This also meant I had to turn down their “generous” offer to sport their classic look: white-laced Doc Marten boots and red suspenders. They seemed to think I had a point and decided it was best not to pursue me as a member. Over the next two years they left me alone, and I never had any problems with them at school.

My trip to Israel changed my perspective about Judaism – I no longer saw myself as a “Jew by birth,” but rather as a Jew by choice. It gave me a new confidence not to hide who I was, which would have been really easy in the tense, racially-charged environment of my high school. Looking back, it was not at my Bar Mitzvah that I became a man, it was at that moment when I was able to face the challenge and muster the courage, despite the possible repercussions, to proclaim, “I am a Jew.”

This is a lesson I have carried into adulthood – by connecting to my past, land, and people, I can accomplish incredible things. I can even change the minds of neo-Nazis.

Photo by thivierr, licensed under Creative Commons.

Tags: Area Codes

Posted by Sarah, Tuesday, November 24th, 2009, 3:44 pm, Area Codes.