I Married a Jew and You Can Too, Part 2

OK. A note to all writers and creative people out there:  Never promise a Part II.  Obligating one's self to a sequel is absolutely stifling.  So I am going to wrap this up like Hanukah gelt, just in time for the holidays.  I'll start with an inappropriate joke to purge my writer's block.  A Milanese woman living in the United States shared this with me last week:  "What is the difference between a Catholic mother and a Jewish mother?  The Catholic mother thinks her son is a human being from the moment of conception and the Jewish mother thinks her son is fetus until he graduates from high school."  I laughed, of course, because there was a cultural truth there that resonated with me.  My upbringing was anything but cautious.  There were expectations of behavior certainly, but there was a groundedness and heavenliness to everything.  I'm splicing religion and culture here, but the intellectual nature of Judaism seems to always ask the why, while the Irish sensibility seems to ask why not.  Well, for one thing, I function on instinct, my husband on reason (perhaps influenced by gender too, hmm...).  I just do; I react; I yell; I move on.  He ponders, he broods, he gets wounded. This explains why in "Good Will Hunting" Matt Damon tells co-star Minnie Driver that "I'm Irish; I can deal with something being fucked up forever." (Or was that from "The Departed?") I'd bet that there are more Jews  in therapy than there are Irishmen.  Just a guess.  And there are probably more Paddys at the pub.  

Our different cultural landscapes inform how we parent.  I may allow the kids to eat a pixie stick for the sheer fun of it.  My husband examines the consequences of such an indulgence and  rarely sides with the depravity of the cheap thrill.  I love cheap thrills and depravity. These contrary attitudes manifest themselves in two areas of our lives: guilt and Christmas.  

One of Peter's most winning statements when we were dating was when he enlightened me on the difference between Jewish guilt and Catholic guilt.  He shared that, "Jewish guilt is more, 'Oy, did I hurt you?', and Catholic guilt is 'Shit, did God see me do that?' "  Each perspective represents a different way of being in the world. 

 

And then there's Christmas.  Really, who can resist the pageantry of Christmas in the Catholic Church?  The advent candles and calendars, the manger, the statuary, the peace and goodwill, the birthday baby.  The first Christmas after my daughter was born, I displayed the nativity scene.  "What's with the Jesus stuff?" Peter asked.  I explained that it was important that she understood the story of the holiday.  His logical mind agreed and accepted the tiny, ceramic savior in our home. This Christmas season, Peter even agreed to abandon our "religious lite" Protestant/Vermonty feel-good Sunday church service for Catholic Mass; I think the infectious spirit of Christmas got to him too.  

But Hanukah is also on its way and my daughter came home and declared that she was the "only one" in her class that celebrated Hanukah.  Great.  The only one. Her teacher even asked me if we celebrated the Jewish holidays, because, if we didn't, she "doesn't bother including them because it seems irrelevant to the class." Great.  How diverse. I suddenly felt very Jewish.  So, next week I'm going to class to read some Hanukah books from the PJ Library (the most amazing Jewish organization that sends children's books to your house every month, complete with basic information about holidays and traditions.  Perfect for lapsed, secular, and progressive Jewish families).  I'll make latkes and applesauce (local and organic!) for the class and spin some dreidels (which are pretty hard to come by in Vermont) with the kids.  I wonder how I, a recovering Catholic, ended up as the token Jew in a small Vermont town. But if I don't do it, who will?  How can a whole class of kindergardeners not learn that there are so many beautiful traditions in the world? How can my daughter believe that being the "only one" means she is something "other", someone marginalized?  One only needs to watch "Borat" to see how widespread anti-semitism is in the U.S. I might as well start with the five year olds in Vermont.  They should know some Jewish folks.  Don't ya think?