Stephen Silver
When one thinks of those who continue to speak Yiddish in the 2020s, you’re probably envisioning either older immigrants from Eastern Europe or perhaps inhabitants of certain ultra-Orthodox enclaves.
A new group meeting in West Philadelphia dedicated to encouraging Yiddish speaking is doing all it can to spread the Yiddish language — while also going against stereotypes about what a Yiddish speaker looks like.
Carter Merenstein began convening “conversation hour” events in February, where the participants strive to speak entirely in Yiddish.
When Merenstein, a 30-year-old University of Pennsylvania grad student, was growing up in the Philadelphia suburbs, in what he described as an “average, fairly assimilated Jewish American family,” he said that “no one I knew really spoke Yiddish, but I knew that my grandparents, when they were kids, they heard it in the home.”
The story began about two years ago when Merenstein’s grandmother, who lives in Pittsburgh, had expressed interest in reconnecting with Yiddish. When Merenstein and his brother suggested a Zoom course, his technology-skeptic grandmother wasn’t interested. But she agreed to do it, as long as her grandsons did it with her.
“I wasn’t necessarily thinking that much about it beforehand,” Merenstein said. The three family members ultimately took an online course through the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research.
“I got really into it,” he said. “There was a lot of, I guess, Jewish-American and Jewish-European culture that I didn’t realize was sort of embedded in Yiddish, that I didn’t realize was there the whole time,” referencing mannerisms and other modes of how people talk.
“The more I got into reading into the history of the language, reading Yiddish books in translation and stuff like that, [I realized] how important it was, and how ubiquitous it was, even two generations ago.”
He became aware of a “newer movement” of people of his generation who had begun pushing a Yiddish revival.
“There are more and more resources than there were maybe 20 or 10 years ago — podcasts to listen to, things online — I have a copy of Harry Potter that’s translated into Yiddish,” he said. He’s also frequently used the app Duolingo to improve his Yiddish.
However, Merenstein was missing one thing — a place to practice conversational Yiddish with other people. His research brought him to a Jewish Exponent article from early 2022 about how previous efforts at Yiddish revival in the Philadelphia area — including the Yiddish Culture Festival and the Community Klezmer Initiative — have struggled or petered out, especially following the pandemic.
So, Merenstein decided to start a Yiddish club.
“I remember that was one thing that made me feel like there was a need for the group, that there were other people in the same boat,” he said.
He started reaching out to synagogues and other local Jewish institutions last summer. By the winter, he was advertising on Instagram to start a group. They have since met at various locations in West Philadelphia, including Clark Park, a couple of bagel shops in the neighborhood and Merenstein’s apartment.
One early event was a “Yiddish potluck,” in which the participants labeled their food with Yiddish names. At that event, a Yiddish dictionary was present in case the participants needed assistance.
Meetings have usually attracted about five to 10 people, which Merenstein described as “self-taught, learning Yiddish, a similar story to me, they didn’t speak it at home, their parents didn’t speak it at home, but like they have sort of this connection through grandparents, great-grandparents and things like that.”
Some participants at different meetings have had a more traditional Yiddish-speaking background, including one who grew up in Brooklyn’s Borough Park enclave and others who studied the language in an academic setting. However, for the most part, the participants are younger, self-taught Yiddish speakers.
“It’s a little bit of the blind leading the blind,” he said. “Trying to learn as we go, and just get practice. Sometimes, it feels like it’s quite difficult to get a sentence out, and then other times it’s amazing to think that ‘I’m speaking a language that probably hasn’t been spoken that much here, for two generations.’”
Sometimes, in the conversation, participants will go for low-hanging fruit like “oy gevalt” or “schmuck.”
“It’s mostly 20s and 30s, all genders, nonbinary, etc.,” Merenstein said of the group’s demographic breakdown, although he emphasized that Yiddish fans of all backgrounds are welcome. Some participants are associated with Kol Tzedek, the Reconstructionist synagogue in West Philadelphia, although participants come from various walks of life regarding Jewish observance.
“Obviously, it’s not like most other languages,” Merenstein said of Yiddish. “There’s not really a ton of native speakers around, there’s not really a place you can go to practice.” T
Those interested in future meetings of the Yiddish group are encouraged to contact Merenstein at [email protected].
Stephen Silver is a Broomall-based freelance writer.
