Growing up Jewish in the Shwa

I grew up in Oshawa (aka: Shwa). There has been a small Jewish community in Oshawa for over 50 years. The key word in that sentencing being "small". When I went to grade school there were three Jewish kids, my older brother, myself and my younger sister. My parents were heavily involved in the local synagogue (I'm pretty sure my grandfather was one of the founders) and promoted Judaism in our home.

We weren't orthodox Jews by any means but my parents did keep a Kosher household. Up to my late teens I was always mixing up those darn meat and dairy dishes. My mom was continuously telling me that I had grabbed the wrong plate or fork. I'm not totally sure but I think in an orthodox Jewish household we would have had to break the plate and never use it again but at my place we just washed it. We got a third set of dishes after my grandmother passed away. Those would become our Passover dishes. Thus expanding the chances of me picking the wrong dish or utensil to use.

My parents also used many Yiddish phrases that I took to be general knowledge on everyone's part. I remember one of the first times I went to a friend's house for dinner. They were eating chicken and asked me what piece of chicken I wanted. I told them I wanted a polka and a fliggo (sp) (that's Yiddish for drumstick and wing). They looked at me like I had gone crazy and asked me the question again to which I gave the same answer. I finally had to point out the pieces I wanted which is when I learned the English names for them.

One thing I hated was going to Hebrew School three times a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays after regular school and on Sundays. We learned the Old Testament and how to read Hebrew so we could pray on the Sabbath. Every five years, give or take, the synagogue would get a new Rabbi. So I had many Rabbis and Rebbetzin (Rabbi's wife) who were my teachers. There was one Rabbi who played guitar and we learned lots of songs. There is one song that is sung every Sabbath to conclude services called Adon Olam. The guitar Rabbi showed us that it could be sung to just about any music. He taught us to sing it to the theme of Gilligan's Island. We loved that. That Rabbi also got us into learning how to read Hebrew proficiently by getting us involved in Hebrew speed reading contests. I excelled at those. One of my favourite Rabbis was the one who taught me what to say at my Bar Mitzvah. Like most rabbis who came to our synagogue this was his first gig and he was very young. He not only taught me my Bar Mitzvah but would give me a couple driving lessons to. I remember one Sunday I was the only person who showed up to Hebrew School so he took me Go-Karting. It was a blast. He would also let me have a drag off his cigarette once in awhile. (Well, maybe that wasn't such a good thing but to a teenager it was cool). On the Sabbath he would say the blessing for the wine after services. He had a big cup full of wine he held to make the blessing (for some reason it has to be filled to the top). He would say the prayer, take a sip then hand the cup to me to go dump. I would then go off to dump the wine but down it instead (hmm, beginning to see some insight into future alcohol problems I would face - but that's a different blog).

Once I entered high school my awareness of differences expanded. It was here that I found out that something called a cheeseburger existed. I grew up being taught to never mix milk and meat and so had never had a cheeseburger. I saw one in the school cafeteria and after one of my friends explained what it was I tried it and loved it. I would also find out that the majority of lasagnas were made with meat. My mom's, unbeknownst to me, was vegetarian. Although I still prefer her's. One thing I also can't stand today is having steak or roast beef with a glass of milk. It makes me cringe.

High school also brought dating. My final year of high school I finally got a girlfriend (she wasn't Jewish). My parents didn't freak out but I was told by mother, in no uncertain terms, that I wouldn't be able to marry the girl. (It would turn out that neither myself or my siblings would marry a Jewish person but my sister came the closest as she married a doctor). I remember one day my dad picked me up from work and told me that my mom was washing my pants and found an empty condom wrapper in one of the pockets. I was stunned and the only thing I could think of to say was, "which pocket?"

I didn't experience much antisemitism in the Shwa, The stuff I did experience was mostly from people who didn't even know what they were talking about, just repeating stuff they heard from their parents.

I guess growing up Jewish in the Shwa was pretty good.
Dave the Dude