John F. Kennedy once said that, “Everywhere immigrants have enriched and strengthened the fabric of American life.” Every immigrant has a story, a background, a family, something they are hoping for, something they are yearning for, and something they have come to find. Most of the make-up of American society is that of immigrants. Whether that be first generation immigrants, second generation immigrants, or those that came on the Mayflower before 1776. We can all trace back to the country in which we originated, a country other than the United States.
There is a question as to whether an immigrant is described as American at their core or as the place from which they came. For Jews, this question is whether one describes themselves and identifies as an American Jew or as a Jewish American. At a quick glance the two may look similar, however once the contrast between the two is pointed out it makes a world of a difference. A Jewish American is a Jew who came to America and decided that at his root he wanted to be American. Therefore, the word “Jewish” is describing the word “American.” This person’s essence is that he is American. An American Jew, is someone that came to America with their strong set of traditions and values and knew that regardless of where they are, they are first and foremost Jewish and then they are American. The word “American” is describing who they are at their core, and that is Jewish. There are other Jews coming from different countries that find a balance of the two. They adopt some American things along the way and find a way to connect the two to create a delicately intertwined relationship between them.
My parents were born in America. My grandparents and great-grandparents however, were born in Europe in countries such as Hungary, Poland, and Germany. This makes me a Jew of European descent. My great-grandparents were living in Europe before and during the time of the Holocaust, around the late 1930’s and early 1940’s. They had businesses and a way of living that was ripped away from them all because they were Jewish. Before the Holocaust my great- grandfather learned and wrote Hebrew books while my great-grandmother ran the textile company. They lived a normal life in Poland and were comfortable; there was no way to predict what was yet to come. When the Holocaust began, their homes and their families were torn apart before their eyes. They came to America with a story; a history of a past that must not be forgotten. The hardships and terrible atrocities that they went through in the Holocaust. A life in a country that was stripped away from them out of pure hatred. They lost everything, except the three things that they made sure to hold onto: hope, family, and tradition. They stayed strong and kept those things with them even when all felt lost. My great-grandparents kept their heads up, for what they hoped to be a promising future. They picked themselves up from the literal ashes and moved towards what they hoped would be a better tomorrow.
My grandmother was born in a displaced person camp (DP camp) in Germany after World War Two. This was a place created for former inmates of the German Nazi concentration camps, who had no where else to go and nowhere to call home, because everything was destroyed. My great-grandparents then picked up and immigrated to America. They moved to Texas for a while and then made their way to New York.
One story that really stands out to me and that I believe ties the history of my family and the horrific things they faced in Europe with the present day American Jew, is something that occurred with my great-uncle. He had been in the Holocaust and had been through many life or death moments that he was forced to make split second decisions to save his life. He had numbers branded into his arm and his head shaven all at the age of fourteen. Many years later he was in Florida with his wife on a nice summer day, walking on the boardwalk. Another American Jewish couple walked by and they began to talk. During their conversation they noticed that both my great-uncle and this man had numbers on their arm from the Holocaust. They looked at their forearms and saw that they were just a few numbers apart. This means that they were a few people behind each other on the line in the concentration camp towards their death. Miraculously, they both survived and here they were in sunny Florida with their spouses discussing the weather and their plans for the day.
The stories of all the atrocities that my family went through before they came to America has had a very strong impact on who I am today as a person. Firstly, I do not take anything for granted and I try to appreciate all that I have in my life. I understand that life here was not received on a silver platter, but rather there were so many things that my family went through before we got to this point. In addition, the Jewish traditions and values have an even deeper meaning behind them for me, and in keeping them I feel myself having a very special connection and relationship with my family on a different level. Two of the most important values in Judaism are family and respect. Many of the traditions and customs in Judaism are centered around these values. The tradition of keeping the Sabbath contains a huge family factor, where every Friday night and Saturday there are family meals and gatherings to pray. Prayer is another big aspect of Judaism. The strength and bravery it took my great- grandparents to keep these traditions and values in the Holocaust, gives me a deeper understanding and appreciation for them now.
I also try to have an optimistic outlook on life and I try to not let things get me down for too long. My great-grandparents went through things that no one should ever have to experience in their lifetime. They did not like speaking of the horrible things that they went through. However, they did enjoy speaking of their past before and after the Holocaust. They focused on the positive stories about their happy memories instead of focusing on the suffering and pain of the past. This has taught me to always look for the silver lining and although sometimes it might seem hard, it is definitely worth it to try because tomorrow is always a new day.
Most Jews whom immigrated to American around the early 1940’s were fleeing persecution. Some felt they wanted to start completely anew and left their traditions in the background for some time. While others thought the only thing they had left to hold on to were their values and traditions. These family members of mine, would always have those numbers on their arms and those burning memories, that they would constantly try to forget, but they would try to focus on the good and the positive things in their life. Their stories continue on, the faith continues on, the family continues on, and most importantly the hope continues on.
The Question was asked
The silence permeated the air
Hanging above our heads
The words reverberating in the inside of my head
Again and again
Why did I ask?
The silence was followed by a faraway look in their eyes
A look of hopelessness
Of despair
Of the memories
The memories that were trying to be forgotten
Why did I ask?
Suddenly tears followed
All because of my curiosity
The need I felt to know more
To know the stories of what happened
The personal stories, in addition to the general ones I had been hearing for years
Why did I ask?
It was an innocent question
I didn’t mean to make their conscience go back to that time
I didn’t mean to make them bring the atrocities to the forefront of their minds
I should’ve been content with what I did know
I should’ve told myself it was enough
Why did I ask?
A few weeks later they sat me down
They gave me a brief overview of what it was all like
They kept getting choked up
I did whatever I could to not cry myself
It was nearly impossible
Why did I ask?
My grandparents came to me the next day and thanked me
They still did not want to go into detail of the horrible memories
But they seemed relieved
They had always wanted to pass down the stories so people would never forget
But they never knew exactly how to do it, they were happy they finally did
And I realized that’s why I asked.
