Reflections continued from page 14
that they would not be discriminated against when they applied to Ivy League col- leges, looked for jobs, or tried to find a place to live in neighborhoods that were restricted. They wanted to be Americans and to assimilate, to fit in, to “pass”. When I tell people that I’m from Brooklyn I like to add that it was from the same neighborhoods as some of my heroes and role models who in their 80s were or still are living enormously productive lives: Barbra Streisand, Bernie Sanders, and Ruth Bader Ginsburg. This past New Year’s Eve I was talking with a friend who said that until a few years ago, being a Jew used to be a matter of distinction, something to be proud of. Wannabe Jews. These days, once again, many Jews are going into hiding. Now that I’m past my 88th birthday I’m thinking about the word essence, from the Latin, esse, to be. Essence is also used to describe a person’s true self, the Soul. Essence is also a smell, a fragrance. One thing I remember about my grandmother who died when I was only 4 years old was the scent she wore that smelled of car- nations. My mother’s favorite cologne was Tweed. I use the perfume, Catalyst. I think it suits me. What remains of a person after they’re no longer present in our lives, when they are truly invisible, is their essence. Our memories of them, the
clothes they wore, their recipes, the dishes that they used for special occasions, my grandmother’s candlesticks, a few old photographs from long ago. Fragments from before cell phones that today now record every event of our lives. We need to reject the notion that people who are coming here want to take some- thing away that belongs to us. What about the amazing foods that immigrants have brought here --bagels, burritos, pho, hot dogs, samosas and pizza – a few of the myriad of world cuisines that grace our tables. The music, the art. The fusion of food and community, language and people with shared values, a rainbow of dif- ferent colors and cultures, and our shared humanity. Young women and old ladies of my generation –the crones and the witches, men young and old, we all have the opportunity and the obligation to have our voices heard, to tell our stories, and to speak truth to power. My mother would often repeat to me the words of Rabbi Hillel, a philosopher and scholar who lived in Rome and Jerusalem in the time of King Herod in the first century BCE. Rabbi Hillel said: “If I am not for myself, who will be. If I am only for myself, what am I? If not now, when?” He also said, “That which is hateful to you, do not do unto your fellow. That is the whole of Torah, the rest is explanation. Go and study.”
Page 22 SGV Community Center Stone Soup
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