Who are you anyway?

It happened every year in my kindergarten class without fail, somewhere between November and February. It even occurred once in my Grade 3 class. Now, before I let you know what transpired, keep in mind that I teach in a Hebrew Day School. By November, we would have learned about and celebrated four major holidays in two languages, sung a vast number of songs and prayers, stood for Hatikvah every day and learned at least a few dozen words in Hebrew.

Please understand, there would be neither rhyme nor reason as to when or why it happened. It just did.

A group of children would be sitting around a table, busying themselves with an activity, crayons or pencils in hand, when out of nowhere, one child would say to another, “I’m Jewish. Are you Jewish?” The second child would then chime in, “Yeah, I’m Jewish”. Then he would turn to the child next to him and ask, “Are you Jewish?” This little chirping with kippot bobbing would go all around the table, until they would all realize that everyone at the table was indeed, Jewish. It seemed incredulous. How could these children not have realized this before? Why did it seem such a surprise to them? More importantly, why were the children able to claim their identity so easily and succinctly? What do children know about being Jewish that I don't?

The question of ‘who am I’ gets more complicated as the years pass. Our identities become diverse. My own list is very long. I’m a daughter, a sister (and sister-in-law), a mother, a mother-in-law (a new one on my list), an aunt, a teacher and a friend (ooh, and a blogger!), to name just a few. Sometimes I feel that I've become compartmentalized as I travel through life. I'm so pushed and pulled by myself and others within each part of my whole that I begin to forget who the whole ‘me’ is. And I don't think I'm alone. We often fall into a trap of being a mother or father, a sister, brother or teacher, not a blend. When the scale becomes unbalanced because we’re overburdened with our jobs or our families, we begin to lose sight of who we are. It is when these things happen that I look to my students for clarity.

It is fascinating that kindergartners are able to declare their identity while drawing or cutting and pasting; literally without thinking. They are Jewish. Done. Are they able to be so sure about everything because their lives are simple? Do they know who they are only because they haven’t experienced life yet, because they don’t have mortgages to pay, or families to feed or bosses to please?

Perhaps. But I like to give children a bit more credit than that. Because they have not had to deal with the trappings of adulthood they are still ‘pure’. Their innocence allows them to see the world as it could be in a perfect state. If we take a moment to listen to them, we can glean great insight.

So, what does it mean for those children to say that they’re Jewish?

We know now through science that Kohanim share common DNA, so it is safe to extrapolate from that that all Jews carry some genetic marker, thereby branding us as Jews from birth. Being Jewish, therefore, is literally in our blood. We cannot escape it. No matter how one decides to be Jewish, he simply is Jewish.

Our sages and texts instruct us on how to be a good father, mother, sister, brother, teacher, and friend (and maybe blogger, although I haven’t checked). It’s all there to study, to learn and to question. Could it really be as simple as my students claim? Do the children instinctively know that being Jewish is simply part of them, biologically? Do they realize subconsciously that Judaism encompasses every aspect of their life, making their response to that question so immediate? I wonder. Furthermore, what can we learn from all of this?

I’m not the most observant person around by far, but I am religious, spiritual. The more I think about this, the more I realize that the children are trying to teach me that religion in general is important in life. No matter how I practise it, my Judaism acts as a glue that collects all those fragmented pieces of myself in order to assist me in becoming whole. I can be an Orthodox Jew, a pickles and pastrami Jew, a Woody Allen Jew, a BuJew (or JewBu, depending on whether you read right to left or left to right), Reform, Conservative or anywhere in between Jew.  Religion gives me the tools to be the sum of my parts.

So, I suppose I can say that I’m a Jewish mother (oy!), a Jewish mother-in-law (bigger oy!), a Jewish sister and sister-in-law, a Jewish teacher, a Jewish friend, and, yes, even a Jewish blogger.

I’m Jewish. Are you Jewish?