Navigating traditions: Growing up Jewish in Athens
I was born a Jew. Both of my parents are Jewish, and their parents were Jewish, so the Jewish heritage streams through my bloodline. My paternal grandfather was born in Belgium and lived through the Holocaust. A generous farm family took in my grandfather and his parents in France. They hid on the family’s farm for multiple weeks to stay out of sight of the Nazis and avoided being taken into a concentration camp. I’m forever grateful for that random family, because if my grandfather had not escaped and fled to America, I would not be here.
Before attending kindergarten I attended Hebrew school at my local temple, Congregation Children of Israel (CCI), the only Jewish temple within a 45-mile radius of Athens. My Hebrew school classmates consisted of three other girls and one boy. Three of the four of them went to school on the west side of Athens, and the other drove down every week from Winder.
Throughout my time at Whit Davis Elementary, only one other family from my temple went to school there. However, I was the only Jew in my grade, so Hanukkah was never really discussed during the holidays. The teachers who knew I was Jewish offered my brother and I the opportunity to bring in traditional Jewish items during Hanukkah to teach the rest of our classes. We would bring in gelt (gold chocolate coins), a menorah, and teach the class how to play the dreidel game. Others assumed that I celebrated Christmas like most other students.
During the holiday season, we created ornaments, decorated gingerbread cookies and watched “The Polar Express.” While I did have fun sometimes, I also felt like I was missing out on what everyone else got to experience.
One of the most uncomfortable moments of my life came in fourth grade in the after school program. A teacher in her late 60s had gotten to know both my brother and I, but not to the level where she knew I was Jewish. I must have reached my tipping point, because I really didn’t want to participate in coloring Christmas trees. I expressed my frustration to her, but she continued to force me to color the Christmas tree. I knew that she couldn’t force me to do this, so I just refused. Though I am glad I did, it also made me very uncomfortable while being embarrassed at my immaturity, because it felt like I was throwing a temper tantrum.
In Athens, it is such a common assumption that everyone is Christian or celebrates Christmas. This is very different from my mom’s experience growing up in New York, New Jersey and South Florida. Everyone at her school was Jewish, all her friends were Jewish, and she felt very comfortable in her community. I don’t feel at home as a Jew in Athens. Every single December, whether it’s at the dentist, doctor, a restaurant, or at community events, I always get the question: “What do you want for Christmas?” I don’t even bother to correct people anymore. I also feel self-conscious, because they apologize endlessly if I explain my culture, though it feels ingenuine. Instead, I just tell people what I want for Hanukkah.
Many times I have wished that I celebrated Christmas. That I woke up in the morning with a lit up tree and dozens of presents wrapped underneath. That we picked out a tree at our local Lowe’s and filled it up with ornaments, lights and garland. That I left out cookies and milk for Santa and a carrot for his reindeer. I may be over fantasizing about my idea of Christmas because I’ve only experienced it through movies.
This holiday season has made me think more about religion, however, as the separation between religion and state has become more of a recent issue and topic among my family and the world.
With the re-election of Donald Trump as president, I am scared of where U.S. school systems are headed when it comes to religion. I believe there needs to be a clear separation of church and state, meaning that no religion be taught or required in publicly funded schools. Changes are already being made that violate that separation. In Louisiana, a new law was recently blocked but will likely be appealed that would require public K-12 schools and colleges to display the Ten Commandments in classrooms. Oklahoma’s state superintendent released new required guidelines to incorporate Bibles into lesson plans.
These measures are extremely concerning to me as a Jew and as someone who has no affiliation with the Bible. Forcing children to learn about the Bible is a violation of their first amendment rights to freely practice whatever religion they desire. The passing of these laws would also make me extremely nervous about where our country is headed. Would Christianity become the national religion of the United States? Would kids be forced to take a bible studies class in public school regardless of their beliefs? With the control that far-right Republicans have between Congress, the Supreme Court, and the executive branch, it feels like the United States is headed in the wrong direction.
Additionally, I am conflicted about how I feel about the violent conflict between Israel and Hamas. I don’t approve of the violence that the innocent citizens of Gaza have experienced, as well as the blocking of resources to help them. But when people hate Israel, a part of me feels resentful towards them. I don’t support the Israeli government whatsoever, but I have cousins that live in Israel and Israel is the homeland for Jews. I choose to stand neutral because I have not done enough extensive research to firmly pick a side. However, the extreme anti-semitism that Jews are receiving, especially the Jews who have virtually no relation to Israel, is uncalled for. College campuses in particular are a hotspot for anti-semitic incidents. According to Hillel, there have been 1,408 anti-semitic incidents on college campuses since the start of the 2024/25 school year. I am heading to college next year and I am nervous about what could happen to me if this war escalates any further.
Discrimination based on religion is something that no one should have to experience in today’s society, especially at our age. Throughout my experience, I’ve grown to be more comfortable in my own shoes and accept that it is okay to be different. I’ve learned to embrace my heritage, and even though I’d consider myself nonreligious, I know that it is important to upkeep my Jewish culture and traditions and pass them on for generations. To anyone in a remotely similar position as I was, don’t allow yourself to lie in order to hide your identity; embrace it and be proud of who you are.
