Dear Customers,
By now most of you know me. You come in the store each day, and mumble the same words to me. “Double bag.”. “Fish separate.”. “Credit.”. You don’t know my name, but you know my face well enough to ignore it. It didn’t start out this way. In fact, it started a little more like this.
“ты свободен?” You'd ask. “I’m sorry, I actually don't speak Russian.”. “?אתה זמין”? You’d ask again in another tongue I wouldn’t understand. “I’m sorry I don't speak Hebrew either ma’am.”. Now this usually results in one of three things. Most commonly, your eyes would roll back in response to my ignorance. The next most common response would be to simply start the process of checking out, proceeding with paying and taking your groceries all while looking disappointed you chose my register. And on some occasions, you simply give up on me. You go to another cashier, or even ask me (in objectively perfect English) to find someone who can speak the language.
So that’s how most of you know me. As the girl to avoid if you can at the supermarket. What most of you don’t know, is that part of why I chose this job was to reconnect with other Jewish people in my community. I came to a Catholic college, and live with three Catholic roommates. I found myself missing some of the Jewish culture I was surrounded by when I lived at home. I was unaware that this particular community of Jews is almost entirely Russian. Not that it matters to me. Unfortunately, it's been made abundantly clear that it does matter to you.
This job has made me feel less Jewish than ever before. On Friday’s you rush around buying challah and meat for the lovely Shabbat dinners with your family. The lines are long at the store on these busy days, so you don’t really have the privilege of choosing your cashier. I smile and say Shabbat Shalom. But it is rarely said back. I take my time and carefully pack your non toki, because I want to be sure your Shabbat Dinner looks beautiful. I always separate meat and dairy, but you make sure to tell me everytime. As if I don’t know you don't cook a kid in its mothers milk.
With antisemitism on the rise around our country, I find it more necessary to feel proud and accepting of my Jewish culture. I found comfort reading an Article from another young New Yorker in Brooklyn, Ms. Sarah Fielding. Relating to her term “Jew-ish”, in a community that made her feel like she wasn’t Jewish enough. Ms. Fielding wrote that if you “hide in that “ish” forever, you’ll always feel like an imposter”.
So I am writing to you today to tell you today that I am not “ish”, I am Jewish. I am also a kind and hard-working employee at your local Kosher Supermarket. Not only do I respect your lifestyle, I live it. There is no right or wrong way to be Jewish. Judaism differs from other religions, as it doubles as an ethnicity. That we share. My inability to speak Russian or Hebrew does not take away my Jewish roots. My American voice does not make me less Jewish, just as your Russian accent does not take away your Judaism.
I know that some of you have a hard time speaking English, so coming to my register may even feel intimidating for you, but please know I know exactly how you feel and will be nothing but patient and kind. I ask you to come to my register knowing that I would love to learn more about how our Jewish backgrounds compare, and of course differ. I ask you to come to my register confident that all Kosher guidelines will be followed. I ask you to come to my register and accept that I am Jewish. Not “ish”.
Shabbat Shalom,
B.M.
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