Why Do People Care?
Picture this: there’s a person – preferably a Jew for the sake of our discussion – sitting at his or her desk, filling out a college application. Whether that application be for University of California at Berkeley or Harvard or Florida State or Texas A&M or William and Mary, or even Michigan’s greatest rival, Ohio State, that person invariably comes up to this question or prompt: appease state your religious affiliation.”
Why? Sure, I know that it’s good for statistics. You get to hear about what percentage of the student body happen to be Catholic or Jewish or Mormon or Hare Krishna. It can help you make a decision on picking a college, but let’s admit it, religion isn’t very important in choosing a college (at least for me). If they have a good Hillel program, that’s fine with me.
But the greater question here is why? Why do people, college boards in particular, need to know what religion you or I am? Does it play a factor in choosing who gets accepted and who gets rejected? Of course, that would be illegal.
People do feel that they have a need to identify themselves with a religion (even if it is atheism – that can be a religion in itself!) so that they can feel that they belong to something a bit bigger, that they share something in common with others. But I’ve noticed that people give a bit more pause when I tell them, “I’m Jewish.”
Why? I mean, being Jewish is not that unusual in America. And yet, people still come up to me to MAKE SURE that I’m Jewish if they heard it from someone else. In fact, when they ask, “Are you Jewish?” it’s with a manner that could be akin to saying, “Are you from Mars?” Well, maybe not that drastic, but you get the idea.
Is being Jewish really so different than being, say, a Lutheran or a Presbyterian. Of course, there’s a lot more Lutherans and Presbyterians than Jews, but they are not Protestants, which I think is the dominant religion in America. But we don’t need to delve into religious differences – I’ll save that for another issue. But my point is that people don’t give it a second thought when others claim they’re Lutheran or Presbyterian. But they do if someone declares they’re Jewish.
Again, why? I know they don’t mean it in an anti-Semitic way, but it sometimes feels that way. Others sense it as an object of fascination, such that the person who asks the question has to reply, “Oh, I have a Jewish friend,” to somehow make the Jew a bit more comfortable. Just like when a hearing person says, “Oh, I have a deaf friend!” to a Deaf person.
Maybe we Jews will never know why exactly people think being Jewish is a bit different – I mean, is not celebrating Christmas every December that important? Corporate America adjusts pretty well to Hanukkah and Kwanzaa, with the convenient phrase, “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas.” So why can’t people?
So, as we celebrate our festival of light, I’d like to leave you with a Hanukkah gift – a prose by Mark Twain:
“If the statistics are right, the Jews constitute but one percent of the human race. It suggests a nebulous dim puff of star dust lost in the blaze of the Milky Way. Properly, the Jew ought hardly to be heard of; but he is heard of, has always been heard of. He is as prominent on the planet as any other people, and his commercial importance is extravagantly out of proportion to the smallness of his bulk. His contributions to the world’s list of great names in literature, science, art, music, finance, medicine, and abstruse learning are also way out of proportion to the weakness of his numbers. He has made a marvelous fight in this world, in all the ages; and has done it with his hands tied behind him. He could be vain of himself, and be excused for it.
The Egyptian, the Babylonian, and the Persian rose, filled the planet with sound and splendor, then faded to dream-stuff and passed away; the Greek and the Roman followed, and made a vast noise, and they are gone; other people have sprung up and held their torch high for a time, but it burned out, and they sit in twilight now, or have vanished. The Jew saw them all, beat them all, and is now what he always was, exhibiting no decadence, no infirmities of age, no weakening of his parts, no slowing of his energies, no dulling of his alert and aggressive mind. All things are mortal but the Jew; all other forces pass, but he remains.
What is the secret of his immortality?”
Well, I sure don’t know, but if someone asks me in an incredulous voice, “Are you Jewish?” I won’t be insulted, but will view it instead as a question of reverence. Maybe they’re impressed, or maybe they’re just surprised there’s a Jew among them. I don’t know, but it’s a lot better than feeling like you’ve just been marked as someone different than the rest.
In any case, I’ll be writing down Jewish” without a second thought on my college applications. In conclusion, allow me to wish you a wonderful Hanukkah and many, many more for the new millennium. (well, only according to the Christian Calendar- the Jewish millennium isn’t for another 340 years!) Just another Jewish tidbit to ponder….
