Adjusting to Jewish life in 1930s America

Posted by Cynthia Blair Kane

This entry is the third in a series of an oral history I did with my grandmother before her passing. In her stories, she speaks of her parents' immigration to America from Russia, growing up Jewish in a German neighborhood and simply being a Jewish girl in the Midwest. For the first entry, Midwest Judaism in the 1920s, click here, for the second entry, click here.

Food in our house served many functions, but it was especially a way for Mama to express her religious and cultural identity. In Russia, Mama's identity came from the food, and when she came to the states, it was a way for her to hold on to herself.

Because we are Ashkenazi our meals were different from Sephardic Jews. Although our practices were different, we still incorporated their style with ours. The most important food is fish because it is the oldest Jewish dish mentioned in the Torah. Another extremely important food in the Jewish cuisine is bread. We learned in Sunday school that bread was the basic food in Eretz Yisrael, and that it accompanied sacrifices and offerings in Biblical times. Well Mama's challah was made out of five grains wheat, barley, spelt, oats and rye. On Shabbat we would recite Ha-Motsi over the two-challah loaves and my father would tear off a piece of bread and pass it around the table. Each one of us would tear off a piece until everyone at the table had a bit of bread on his or her plate. On Rosh Hashanah, my mother made the two loaves of bread into different shapes.

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Tuesday Jan 22, 2008

The role of religion for the secular

Posted by Cynthia Blair Kane

I recently came back from Egypt. I had never been to a Muslim country before and I hate to say it but the images I'd seen on television had made me a bit nervous. After a couple days, the pictures from the Media disappeared and I no longer felt uncomfortable around men in traditional religious clothing or the one or two women on the street, hidden behind veils. With speakers on the sidewalks filling the streets with religious chants, I soon became accustomed to how the city sounded during time of prayer. I started to wonder if there were people living in Egypt whom, like me, felt torn between maintaining religious traditions and living the life they want? Are there people of my generation who want traditions to change?

Around this time, close after the New Year, the resolutions made beforehand tend to fade back into the routine of daily life. No matter if resolutions are met, the effort itself for things to change fills us with hope. Whatever the wish, the one ingredient for a New Year is change. It seems we always want to change something about the way we live.

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