On Finding German Jews for Book Project

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Article 116, German citizenship, German Jews, Israel

A lot has happened since I first posted about my Restored German Citizenship book project. I’ve cast about in different parts of the world-wide web — joining a number of Facebook and genealogy groups — and managed to capture a few people’s attention. Through countless hours of online searches I discovered quite a few Yekke groups around the world. It was especially helpful to join GerSIG, the German Jewish Special Interest Group that is part of JewishGen.org.

My cyber searches yielded many new contacts, but they also seem to have resulted in a deluge of Spam messages from Jewish dating services. I’m not looking for a JDate, just people of German Jewish descent who have reclaimed their citizenship and want to share their personal stories with me.

So here’s the book update:

• More than a dozen people in the U.S., Canada, South Africa, Australia, and Germany have expressed interest in making a submission for the book.
• I’ve already received two wonderful draft submissions.
• While fishing around online for potential contributors, I applied to join the Times of Israel blogging community. Here’s my first post: What Does Your Reisepass Mean To You?
• I met with the Research Director for the Leo Baeck Institute, a primary research center for the history of German-speaking Jews. He liked the idea for the book and gave me a few good research tips.
• I’ve received kind offers of help, suggestions for publishers, and expressions of support from many Full Circle readers. Thank you!

In the coming months I’ll do more outreach to potential contributors, especially in Israel, South America, and the UK. I’ll also send some feelers out to publishers and continue with research on the last 65 years worth of Article 116 citizenship applications. I’ll post occasional updates here and look forward to receiving your advice and support.

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“Home Sweet Home”

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American Jews, Berlin, German Jews, Israel

Coming back to Berlin from Israel last month was a journey back home, a journey to a familiar and comfortable place, but one that is not my native land. My strong connection to Germany wavers at times. Like the other day at the grocery store when I patiently waited behind a woman as she went through the stack of baskets looking for one that met her hygienic standards. When I finally reached in to take one for myself, she snatched the basket out of my hand and let slip a rude remark. I stifled the urge to call her a bitch and calmly walked away. Perhaps this could happen anywhere, but I’ve never before encountered such aggression over a grocery basket.

People in Israel were more open and relaxed than I expected. I felt a kinship with all those short women with wild and frizzy hair and the older women with bright lipstick and flashy jewelry transported me back to my childhood on the East Coast. I also agree with my daughter that a lot of the men were “smokin.” But beyond these fleeting impressions, I developed a better understanding of Zionism through Simon Schama’s excellent BBC series The Story of the Jews, which we watched during the trip. I now have a connection to Israel, not so much as a Zionist, but as another place where I feel at home and where a cherished part of my family lives.

My feelings about Israel were refracted through the triplicate lens of my German-American-Jewish self. I’m glad that I finally made the trip that so many American Jews call upon us to make, if only to gain a better footing in political discussions about Israeli policies and the Middle East. As a German, I also felt proud to be among the many tourists who are promoting close cross-cultural ties between the two countries.

I hope to go back to Israel before long, but it probably won’t be for Passover. Stay tuned for a piece on The Jewish Writing Project with a few further reflections on that topic.

The Push-Me Pull-You of Israel

Tags

Diaspora Jews, Israel, Jewish identity, Passover

It will take some time to unravel the twisted knot of emotions that wove its way through me over the nine days we spent in Israel. My sensory delight in the sweet smell of jasmine, the warm and inviting limestone architecture, the abundant sunshine, and the rich tastes of hummus and falafel expanded during each day of the trip. While my senses enjoyed this daily barrage of gifts, my brain was constantly working overtime to fill in the multi-colored canvas that is Israel. Each day the land and the people drew me in, but not without moments when my buttons were pushed and I drew back. I felt a bit like Dr. Doolittle’s pushmi-pullyu, the gazelle-unicorn whose two heads try to go in opposite directions whenever it moves.

The highlight of our trip was spending time with our cousins who we first met in 2011, but with whom we already share a deep bond (see Shrinking the Family Diaspora). That bond was strengthened as we picked up where we left off three years ago and wrote a new family history into the moments we spent together. But sadness and even anger bubbled up within me while trying to make sense of the ultra-orthdox Jews whose demeanor and conduct sent a loud message that said “keep away — you are not one of us.” Driving through the Mea She’arim area and provoking the rage of its residents was probably a bad idea, but even worse was the feeling we had while walking around Jerusalem of being invisible in the eyes of those who are a part of our history but who reject us as Jews.

Visiting Israel during Passover made it more challenging for us to connect with Jewish life since our family is fairly secular and does not keep kosher for the holiday. We often found ourselves gravitating toward Arabic areas and had our most spiritually uplifting experience at the Ethiopian Orthodox Church in Jerusalem on Easter Sunday. Although we spoke with no one during our brief visit, we felt not only welcome and accepted, but also a sense of peace that spoke of the human potential that has yet to be achieved in the Middle East. I hope to share some further reflections as I unravel my thoughts and emotions and try to get my head pointed in just one direction.

Shrinking the Family Diaspora

Tags

American Jews, diaspora, German Jews, Holocaust, Israel

Meeting the relatives is a life-long process, especially when they are part of the vast  diaspora that resulted from the Holocaust.  Many of my relatives fled from Germany to South Africa in the late 1930s and over the years I’ve met quite a few of them.  As a child and young adult I approached these encounters with mild interest, but as an adult they’ve become more meaningful.  When I heard that I had a cousin who was born in South Africa, grew up in Israel, and was temporarily living in Vienna, it seemed important to meet her and discover if we felt a family connection. Not only did Daniella and I form a quick connection, but our kids are ecstatic about their new 9-year-old twin cousins that they never even knew about until now.

What did I, an American from California and the Rockies, and Daniella, who grew up on a kibbutz where she met her wonderful husband while tending the cows, have in common?  Experiences with our mothers, of course! Our grandparents were siblings and we had many stories to share about our mothers, the offspring of her grandfather and my grandmother. The genetic connection between us is invisible to the naked eye and yet it felt very palpable as we spent a whirlwind weekend together in Berlin. The kids must have felt it too, or else they were just extremely compatible playmates. 

But there was also the sense of wanting to piece together the family diaspora that can help us understand who we are and where we came from. Our personal stories were very different, but there was an overlap of shared experience that seemed to stem from our blood ties.  The temporary Vienna-Berlin connection between our families is a fortunate coincidence to take advantage of before we disperse back to North America and the Middle East.  A trip to Vienna will have to be added to our travel agenda!

Sam, Naveh, Avery, May, and Olivia

Andrea and Daniella

Time for an Image Update

Tags

American Jews, Germany, Holocaust, Israel, Jews

 

I was full of curiosity and anticipation last week when I attended a lecture by Rolf Schuette, the City of Berlin’s Director of Protocol, on the relationship between Germany, American Jews and Israel. Among other interesting themes, Schuette spoke about why Germany’s relationship with Israel is different from its relationship with American Jews.  Germany and Israel enjoy very warm relations and cross cultural contacts between the two countries, mainly through tourism, have skyrocketed in recent years.  Last year, Israel had the second largest number of tourists to visit Germany of any country outside Europe.  Schuette also cited various polls which reveal the surprisingly positive attitudes that Israelis hold towards Germans.

In contrast, Schuette claimed that American Jews have shown little interest in Germany in the post-Holocaust years.  In the absence of contact, attitudes are likely to remain  negative and friction even erupts in families (as it did in my own) when the American descendant of someone who fled the Nazis wants to return to a parent’s or grandparent’s  birthplace. But even more significant was Schuette’s assertion that American Jews lack a “realistic image” of today’s Germany due to this lack of contact. 

Schuette’s comments reaffirmed my desire to document our experiences as a Jewish family living in Berlin. It is not that I think American Jews must visit Germany, but that 65 years after the Holocaust there may be some basis for updating our image of Germany.  We must find a way to both honor our tragic history and move forward with an open mind.  This is why I say that the door is open and it is our choice whether to step inside.

Tumbalalayke!

Tags

American Jews, Berlin, Germany, Israel, Judaism

                     

Tumbala, tumbala, tumbalalayke

Tumbala, tumbala, tumbalalayke

Tumbalalayke spil, balalayke

Tumbalalayke freylekh zol zayn

 

 

Listening to an authentic Berlin Klezmer Group perform songs in Yiddish at an Israeli street festival today was my first exposure to the Jewish cultural life of Berlin.  The street festival, called Shuk Ha’ Carmel after Tel Aviv’s largest market, was part of the Jewish Culture Days celebration being held in Berlin from Aug. 26th to Sept. 5th. Amidst the rich aromas of fish and falafel, the wide variety of produce and spices, the colorful crafts and Judaica, and of course all those happy Jews, my greatest pleasure was watching my daughter join in the Israeli dancing.  As she matched her steps to those in her circle of dancers I was glad for all those dancing lessons she received at Hebrew School back in Bozeman!

I came to Berlin as a German American Jew with so many questions and desires.  I hope to fill in some of the gaps from the past that I’ve wondered about and to research, experience, and possibly connect with a part of the Jewish life of modern-day Germany.  Our family has attended our first service with Ohel Hachidusch, a  multi-denominational Jewish Renewal congregation, where we received a warm welcome.  There are 10 other synagogues in Berlin, and as long as you don’t mind the inconvenience of having your purse searched and your body scanned, you can visit any of them.

At the same time, I am awaiting news on my application for German citizenship which I am eligible for because my parents were displaced by the Holocaust.  My mother is about to receive her second payment as a result of the Holocaust Victim Assets Litigation that has led to the distribution of funds from Swiss bank accounts that were seized by the Nazis. My amazing dad pursued every possible avenue of restitution that was available to German Jews who survived the Holocaust and I know he would be pleased that some of his painstaking efforts have come to fruition.

So there is much to explore, but also much to enjoy. With Rosh Hashanah just around the corner, I think some research into the Jewish bakeries and delis of Berlin is next on the agenda……