Samantha Vinokor-Meinrath
My inbox recently broadcast a remarkable juxtaposition: “Jewish American Heritage Month is coming!” some messages told me. Others focused on something else: “And the New York Mets aren’t having Jewish Heritage Night this year.”
With those two headlines came the commentaries that inevitably unfold: questions, accusations, assumptions about the decisions being made. And calls to action, declarations of intent, and thoughts about the role of affinity celebrations in the American cultural zeitgeist.
I have no insider knowledge of the intentions behind the lack of Jewish Heritage Night at Citi Field. And I have no desire to catastrophize in a time that definitely doesn’t need any more crisis. But as a lifelong Jewish educator, I instead want to take the opportunity to pose the question: What role should designated heritage days/months play when it comes to Jewish identity and pride?
Jewish American Heritage Month was first designated in 2006, but it has grown in attention and intensity in recent years. Just recently, Noa Tishby was successful in lobbying Los Angeles’ public schools to honor the month. This ascendance reflects the dual missions that have marked the American Jewish story: acceptance and exceptionalism.
Acceptance is the first, most baseline desire for any minority population seeking the safety of a new world, as was the motivation of generations of Jewish immigrants to the United States over time. The proverbial goldene medina promised a new beginning, free from the structural and legal manifestations of antisemitism that existed in Europe and the Middle East. The United States, as it did for so many minority immigrant groups, seemed designed to accept the tired, the poor, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free.
And in so many ways, the dreams have been fulfilled. The story of the American Jewish community has been one of acceptance and exceptionalism. Acceptance has seen achieved when we look at the heights that Jews have been integrated into society. From the days of “No Jews allowed” signs and country club and university quotas, we have experienced Jews in the heights of government, business and countless other industries. Jewish culture is seen as American culture, with comedy, food and vernacular moving from the niche of our small slice of the population into the nomenclature of broader society.
Of course, it must be acknowledged that we are living in a time of rising antisemitism, where the history referenced above feels to many like a blip in the past, and not our current lived experience. Real questions exist about the place of Jews in numerous areas and institutions in American society — questions that must be faced head on, particularly in the work of Jewish education, as we strive to imbue learners with Jewish pride and confidence in a moment when Jewish vulnerability is sadly the order of the day. Jewish resilience is a muscle being flexed by individuals and the collective, and as part of that, we seek moments of Jewish joy.
Jewish affinity celebrations are meant to be conduits to Jewish joy, and Jewish pride. It is understood that seeing oneself reflected in the larger culture that one exists within is vital for validating identity, fostering a sense of belonging, and boosting self-esteem, particularly for marginalized groups. It combats feelings of isolation and internalized stereotypes. And in this time of vulnerability, anything that allows for a celebration of Jewish identity is a welcome boost to our collective confidence within society. So perhaps this is why the absence of an anticipated heritage moment feels not only disappointing, but sinister. When Jewish identity becomes something to defend, everything feels heightened. More than ever, we need moments of Jewish celebration, for children and learners of all ages to see their identities reflected in an inclusive and positive way.
Heritage days, and even months, are of course not enough. By designating a specific night Jewish heritage night, we lose sight of the imperative to show up Jewishly every night. Jews should not only be highlighted in the classroom during the month of May, and Jewish joy can and should be accessible in a baseball stadium any time Jews show up. In the work of Jewish pride education, two of the core building blocks put forward are that Jewish learners will recognize how Jewish identity shapes engagement with the broader world, and will express Jewish identity across all contexts and relationships.
Allowing “Jewish time” to be delineated out from “real life” has contributed to a bifurcation of identities, wherein showing up Jewishly is designated for certain moments and spaces for many. Comprehensive Jewish pride education flips that paradigm, creating core, confident identities that are not confined to any one moment or environment.
Jewish educators, and learners, deserve moments of celebration. But we are not defined by them. Confident Jewish identity is unlimited, and accessible wherever Jews are present.
Samantha Vinokor-Meinrath is the senior director of knowledge, ideas and learning at The Jewish Education Project.