About a month ago, Elisheva Martinetti was the topic of a magazine article from the prominent mainstream Jewish magazine, Ami.
Elisheva’s story could easily be mistaken for the plot of an action film or novel–a girl in a remote area of a foreign country learning of a religion other than her own. For the first time does she question the traditional life she leads with her mother, and at a young age she leaves her mother to learn more about this religion. Along the way, she meets another like herself, they marry and start a family.
I have severely oversimplified the summary of the article intentionally because my focus isn’t on Elisheva’s story, but on how some in the mainstream Orthodox world views geirim like Elisheva.
As I wrote in my previous piece, there are geirim who are obviously uniquely beautiful and different in appearance from the accepted Ashkenazic/Sefardic typical. At very best, these geirim are either accepted completely as they are without hesitation into the communities where they live. This is the ideal. Most, I would expect, deal with some questions and must decide how to proceed on an individual basis. There is no right or wrong way for a ger or giyores of color to handle such questions. At worst, geirim of color are romanticized/fetishized. The very aspects of their physical appearances, accents, ways of thinking and dealing with the world, the very characteristics that make them physically and psychologically who they are are fodder for overactive imaginations and perpetrated stereotypes.
Leave your prejudices, misconceptions, generalities and fetishizations in the circular file, please and thank you. Trust me, you’ll be emotionally cleaner, clearer and a lot more educated once you do. Thank me later.
I don’t think I am able to truly do this topic justice any more than I have because while I am a giyores, I am not of color. So I spoke to a really incredible friend of mine (all the people in my life are amazing so no, I am not exaggerating). She is from Thailand, and she was willing to share her experiences with me.
These are her exact words: nothing beyond spelling/grammar has been edited, and I promised her nothing would be. I asked her extremely general questions, and my only request was that she say exactly what she wanted to, no holds barred.
Can you tell us a little bit about your background?
I was born in Bangkok, Thailand. My family lives in Banpong, a small town outside of Bangkok, in “the jungle,” as many call it. That part is pretty unusual and could easily identify me, so you can just say “southeast Asia.” My grandparents lived in a traditional house for the area, a packed dirt floor, wall-less area on the bottom, and a two room enclosed area on stilts up top. My mother and grandparents lived like what I thought was a traditionally Asian ritualistic life. Except it wasn’t exactly–we were told to bathe in the river after our menstrual cycle was over, and we salted and rinsed our meat to “clean” it. We always inspected our eggs for blood spots, and never ate the ones that had them.
I came to the US when I was 3 or 4 because my mother thought it would give me more opportunities to be educated in the US. My mother married my father, a US infantryman, after the Vietnam war. Our first problem after coming to the US was actually my father’s parents. They were not supportive of my father’s choice in spouses. My parents went so far as to name me after my grandmother (my middle name is Elizabeth) so as to make me more “acceptable.”
Back in those days (we’re talking about mid to late 70’s), things were tenuous. I mean, I felt accepted most places (some places easier than others), but not really fully. It’s hard too explain, but, except for a few really close friends, I felt like I was looking in through a window. The problem was the interracial “mixing;” I didn’t fit in with the other Asian kids because I want fully Asian, so not good enough. I didn’t fit in with the Caucasian kids because I definitely didn’t look like them. I was just the one they called when they needed something drawn or if they wanted to copy homework.
What’s most difficult is that neither of my parents understood. What was depressing was that they never could and never did. I was exposed to Judaism when I lived in the tristate area, going in and out of New York City. This was really early on in my life. Then I forgot about it for a while until I was in college and decided to explore it again. It was very familiar to me; as I said earlier, there were some common elements, and the rabbis I spoke to seemed to understand me better than most others. It wasn’t until many years later that I decided to “make it official” as my Rabbi called it, and do a ritualistic mikvah dip. I met a Jewish man and got married. We follow a western Sephardic minhag.
What does a typical day look like for you?
It’s hard to go through a typical day these days! It’s pretty boring, for the most part. I get the kids ready for school, and run errands until I pick them up! In between, I’ll probably do some cooking and baking. Maybe I’ll meet up with a friend from time to time. These days, everyone is inside.
Can you tell us about any instances of prejudice you’ve experienced?
I don’t know if it’s prejudices I’m talking about, but there’s definitely a lot of confusion. Mostly, I’m confused for being an observant Muslim. There were some times that got a little scary. There was a time that at least once a week, I’d get propositioned by a young Muslim man, looking to get married. Some guys, as you know, just won’t take no for an answer. Many were respectful, but some really really pushed the issue. These were the scary incidents. Telling them I’m Jewish and married might not be the safest thing to do in these instances. Not only that, but these incidents were really embarrassing, both for me and the other guy. That’s when I made the decision to wear a hat rather than a scarf on my head.
Otherwise, I’d get the same thing most get at synagogue: “So, did you convert to get married?” Obviously, I didn’t. And I’d say so. It didn’t matter, though, because they had to check with my husband to make sure. The really boorish ones did that right in front of me.
People outside our congregation would ask my husband at first if I needed any tips or help making challah or Cholent, or “setting things straight” in our kitchen. Passive aggressive things like that.
Mostly, any opinions or insight I have about Torah or Judaism in general I’ve learned to keep to myself. G-d forbid I should joke about it…I only do that with a select few. I commented about what kind of a brachah to make while donning a mask. Of course you don’t need to make a brachah for that, but it didn’t stop someone from “setting me straight” on that. I guess that happens a lot anyway, but usually on fine points of Talmudic studies, not on basic things like this. Many people assume I know nothing and always get it wrong, but don’t ever care to hear my side of it. Just saying, it’s unusual to me to see other Caucasian Jews regularly get slapped down like that on something as stupid as this.
Have you ever felt like you’ve fit in in Jewish spaces?
As you probably gathered from my statement above, the answer is basically no. People in my synagogue feel really uneasy around me. They are more prone to ask my husband questions about me rather than talk to me directly. There are a few people who are pretty normal with whom I interact, but honestly, NONE of my close friends are people I’ve met in synagogue, and not many of my close friends are even Jewish. Of the Jewish ones, I’d say only a couple are observant or Orthodox.
I toured a prominent day school to enroll my kids. After the tour, the guide singled me out and brought me into the Rosh Yeshiva’s office. He then gave me the third degree about why I thought my kids belonged there, and then got into the root of the matter… If my wedding/marriage was kosher, if I keep kosher at home, what synagogue I went to, etc. He looked down his nose at me and told me outright that he’d have to check my answers with my Rabbi. “You have to understand, this is a yeshiva. People find their future spouses here.” This was kindergarten, mind you. No one else on that tour got pulled in. Just me.
What about your children? Do they feel like they fit it?
Neither of my oldest children feel included or fit in. There were a few times that the children in the synagogue would tell racist jokes or say something really awful to them, and think it’s the funniest thing in the world. Both my oldest daughters didn’t even care to have a bat mitzvah party. They didn’t even want it mentioned. The new Rabbi that came into our synagogue (replacing a much beloved Rabbi) couldn’t even look me in the face (that was probably more his insecurity around women than me personally, probably), and insisted all bar/bat mitzvot go through him. Both girls turned it down. They don’t go to services at all now.
My youngest ones don’t look as “foreign” as my older two. My son is autistic, and gets a lot of flack for that. Neither of my youngest has had much experience with racism, thankfully, but there is definitely a cultural difference. We don’t wear shoes at home, for instance. The Ashkenazi kids are very quick to tell them all the things they do wrong. Our western Sephardic minhag, on the other hand says that we respect all family minhagim, and never ever tell someone they’re doing it wrong, unless it explicitly goes against what’s written in the Torah. The yeshiva kids also behave in a rough, undisciplined manner. We, culturally, don’t do that; my kids are expected to have excellent behavior. My older kids got had some trouble in day school. In art class, one of my kids was supposed to work on a guided self portrait collage made with cut out shapes for eyes, nose, and mouth. The teacher came around and looked at my daughter’s portrait and said, no, that’s not right. SHE TOOK THE CIRCLES MY DAUGHTER USED FOR EYES, CUT THEM INTO NARROW OVALS, AND PUT THEM BACK ON HER WORK SURFACE SLANTED.
Unfortunately, this was when we decided to give our kids a public/home school education.
Racial fetishism is often a problem, in both Jewish and non-Jewish spaces? Have you ever personally felt objectified?
On more than one occasion I’d be asked if I was married. When I’d say yes, the follow-up question is usually, “Are there any more like you?” or, “Do you have a sister or a cousin?”
One of the most appalling things I’ve read was an article in a Jewish publication taking about Chinese Jews. They interviewed a young frum man about his recent marriage to his Chinese wife. He said something to the effect of “I found out one day that there were Chinese Jews. I knew at that moment I had to marry one.” Subtle much?
[Editor’s note: In the clip in question, two minutes in, the husband indeed says: “I read about the Jews of Kaifeng and I always wanted one.”]
To be honest, I’m even self-conscious about going to the mikvah. If it was an option, I think I’d rather jump into the river. There’s already been one mikvah video scandal in my town…
How have these experiences affected your spouse or children?
To my knowledge, I don’t think my husband has experienced anything like this directed at him. However, there was a time we were walking home from synagogue, and a man started shouting at my daughters and I about the Vietnam war. I think that may have been the first time he ever saw anything like that directed at us.
My oldest daughter most recently has experienced hostility riding the train to school. This is, of course, related to the Asian origins of the coronavirus. I’m happy to report that she almost always rides with classmates, but even still, I worry.
Are there any particular precautions that you take to avoid these unwanted (and unwarranted) interactions?
As I stated earlier, I started dressing differently (no head scarf), and enrolled my kids in public school. Generally speaking, if I go to a synagogue event, I prefer going with my husband as opposed to going alone. Being with him seems to deflect the more embarrassing comments. My husband doesn’t seem to have to worry much.
If there was just one statement you’d want people to walk away with, what would it be?
Where to begin! I guess I’d like to remind people that Judaism was not born and bred in eastern Europe. It is a pan-cultural practice that was meant to be adaptable to migration. Seeing the world through an Ashkenormative lens severely distorts the whole Jewish experience, and that’s a shame. I’d love it if people spent less time telling people how wrong they are and instead listening to a different voice. I promise, it won’t be a waste of time. It may even make you better understand who you are as a Jew.
Another ger and Jew of color Nissim Black expresses this sentiment in a way no one can misunderstand:
“In the synagogue Camouflaged But I can’t wipe the skin off I’m proud of it It’s loud a bit But I’m not trying to criss-cross.” (Mothaland Bounce by Nissim Black)
And there, right here at this very complex intersection of ethnicity, personal and racial history, and the present living their truest lives to the best of their ability is the simple point I wish to make. It is sometimes the most complex concepts that can be broken down into the most simplistic statements.
Other and Jewish–no matter how little or much Other or Jewish–still equals Jewish.
