"You Have the Map of Israel on you Face"
I grew up going to conservative Jewish day school. Half the day we spoke English; the other half we spoke Hebrew. Half the day my name was Madeline, the other half it was Miriam-Dina. All of my friends were Jewish. We all kept kosher, had Shabbat dinner every Friday night, and celebrated Jewish holidays. On Saturdays I would go to my friends’ houses after they came home from Shul and we would walk around the neighborhood until Shabbat was over. We went to services every day. We wore conservative clothes. We went to youth-group activities and sleepaway camp together. One day we believed we would marry good, Jewish husbands and raise Jewish children. Everything was about tradition and about G-d. That was what being Jewish was to me, and that was the only kind of Jewishness there was.
My Jewish identity got lost when I moved to a different high school and I tried to be secular. Every time I made new friends my dad asked, "Are they Jewish?" because Jewish girls should only have Jewish friends. And Jewish kids don't go to the movies on Friday nights or wear tank tops. I hated the part of me that was Jewish because I couldn't be Jewish and modern. I thought that real Jews had to be observant, dress modestly, and understand the traditions they practice. It has taken me until last year to realize that this is not the only way to “be Jewish” and that being a Jew is more about self-identification rather than adherence to tradition or having a distinct physical appearance. I can embrace what I like about Jewish culture without leaving contemporary, fast-paced, society behind.
But it is still not easy.
My work is an exploration of what it means to be an American Jew in the 21st century. In my experiences talking with Jews and non-Jews alike, I have found many people believe to be Jewish is to be confined to one way of life. I have heard this over and over from friends who are not observant or don’t know a lot about Judaism or are “only half,” and think that they are not allowed to identify as Jews.
I use images of friends and family members to play with these expectations of what Jews are like. Although more subtle than other racial generalizations, people’s assumptions are often confirmed when they meet a Jew who has a big nose and dark, curly hair. In most cases, however, Jews are a group that can usually "pass" as part of the mainstream culture. This enables them to hide their identity and allows the dominant culture to ignore their differences. I am intrigued by the reaction that follows someone’s realization that their tan and blonde friend is ethnically Jewish.
My works’ immediate focus is on Jewish stereotyping and confronting those stereotypes in today’s society. However, at it’s center is an issue that is more universally American: How can we preserve that which is culturally unique while still connecting with dominant culture and contemporary society?