Alef: The NEXT Conversation

Atypical Jew

By Amy Kolodny

“Southerner.” “Middle child.” “Kind.” “Funny.” These are just words that describe definitive parts of me. Yet the more I read them, the more the line between noun and adjective becomes blurred. Perhaps this is one of my purposes in life—to change others’ views of common stereotypes because I am consistently different from what is expected. I don’t speak with even a hint of a twang. I never felt that my parents overlooked me simply because I didn’t learn how to tie my shoes first or because I lost my place as the baby of the family. I like doing good things for others but I refuse to be a doormat. I enjoy witticisms and love when people laugh at my musings but still feel surprised when they do just that.

I grew up, in a multi-faceted family in Savannah, Georgia—the only girl sandwiched between a very intelligent older brother and a very creative younger brother. My father was an introverted, scientific, practical, Republican, Conservative Jew from New York. My mother is a people-loving, artistic, emotional, Democrat, Reform Jew from Georgia. Needless to say, there was always much to talk about in my house!

From the ages of three to five, I attended a local Jewish day school where I learned how to read both English and Hebrew, how to tell time, and how to outsmart the boy who replaced my sandwich with one stupid little piece of candy when my head was turned. My first day of second grade marked two huge changes in my world: 1) the birth of my younger brother (who my older brother lovingly assured me was a boy because “Mama and Daddy really didn’t want any girls at all, ever!”) and 2) the start of my public school education. Most years, my older brother and I were the only Jewish kids in our school and, seemingly overnight, I became the token spokesgirl for all things Jewish. This was a daunting task for a shy little girl but one that served me well because it helped me to identify, very early on, what my Judaism meant to me. I grew up learning that to be Jewish was special and rare and that it was steeped in history, culture, tradition, and strange-yet-delicious foods. I also learned that it’s very difficult to explain what it means to be Jewish to someone that is not, but that hasn’t stopped me from trying to do so!

Oh sure, I was made fun of for my unruly curly hair, my ability to break the curve for the dreaded science test, and my inability to eat pepperoni on my pizza during end-of-the-year parties. However, I also had a cute little button nose instead of the large one I was supposed to have, couldn’t have cared less about whether or not my clothes had a fancy label like the ones I was supposed to wear, and I much preferred to be the thoughtful observer and not the brash, loud kid that I was supposed to be given what people knew about Jews. So, I was a sort of an atypical Jew (from a stereotypical point of view). Though my dietary habits have changed much to my late father’s chagrin, I still am not what most non-Jews come to expect when they hear the word “Jewish.” On the flip side, I am likely not what many Jews come to expect when they hear the word “Jewish” either. I never had a bat mitzvah, I know very few Jewish prayers or words in Hebrew, and I cannot stand the taste of chopped liver.

Through many hours of soul searching and conversations with friends, strangers, and myself (and yes, I do talk to myself), I have come to one realization – I am unique, just like everyone else. By this, I mean to say that I cannot control how other people view me or what they think about me. Stereotypes are, after all, just generalizations made about the attributes of all members of a group. If you assume you know what a person is like based on what you think he/she should be instead of learning about the person as he/she is, you are likely to be wrong and miss out on the opportunity to make some really meaningful connections. My individual experiences have made me who I am, believe the way that I do, and I choose to live my life in the best way that I know how to. It may not fit in with how I’m supposed to live it given my age, my gender, and what my society tells me, but being true to myself is a great way to fall asleep at night.
…
Amy Kolodny is a pediatric speech-language pathologist, daughter, sister, aunt, friend, and a championed supporter of the underdog.
…

Photo by Nina Matthews Photography, licensed under Creative Commons

Read more posts from Issue 20: Stereotypes.

Tags: Stereotypes, The South

Posted by Rafi, Wednesday, September 1st, 2010, 4:21 pm, Stereotypes.