In my lifetime I’ve had more Jewish friends than Christian ones with “friend” meaning someone with whom I have at least shared a drink, smoke, or laugh. That’s mostly because of circumstances.
Growing up in a “mixed” Protestant family, meaning that my mother and father attended different churches—acoustics and choir director vs. charismatics, respectively—while moving every two to three years, resulted in the effect that none of the denominations I was exposed to resonated with me for very long. They included: Methodist, Presbyterian, Baptist, Quaker, Pentacostal, and some other sorts of Charismatic Evangelicals of no particular brand. Meanwhile, my father, an ordained minister who was frequently named an elder, deacon, or substitute pastor in the various churches, given his credentials, served as the pastor of our family and thereby represented himself as the conduit to God, Heaven, and morality. While buying into this wholly until I was about seven, which is when I decided to stand up to him as a means of protecting my sister from him, in the end he taught me that rhetoric does not trump actions.
I have had friends of every color of the rainbow and most nationalities and creeds. The only White Anglo Saxon Protestants I came into contact with on a regular basis as a child were either members of either of my parents’ many churches over the years or my family members. As an adult of course I had WASP coworkers but not many in my social sphere except those “broken” ones who found their way to the BDSM subculture as either passing through or well-immersed.
When my family finally moved to our first lily white neighborhood, just after I hit puberty, I was such an oddball among my peers as to be cruelly persecuted for it. Teenagers and preteens recognize “difference” even if the wrapper resembles theirs. Adults do too but are less inclined to be cruel about it only that they tend to sense something “odd” about me if they can’t necessarily put their finger on it.
Of course it was the BDSM subculture where I was to meet and fall in love with Axel, predominantly of WASP persuasion, with 1/4 Navajo blood from a grandmother he had never met.
Although I have never had my genes analyzed, it is possible, as a distant relative of Alexander Hamilton, that I do indeed have some Jewish blood, and moreover, it is probably matrilinear. Since I do not believe that “Original Sin” is inherited—or even if it is, I’ve paid with interest—my interest in my own genealogy doesn’t include any sense of debt from the activities of my largely humble and agrarian ancestors: a.k.a. “Peasants;” along with “Educators,” and The Trades. That lack of sense of debt of mine is irrespective of those of my ancestors who owned slaves and who were apparently either gracious enough or not so horrible such that today among those with my family name, the descendants of those slaves outnumber those of similar phenotype to mine. I can suppose that retaining this name signifies the lack of trauma associated with it. At least one Scottish indentured servant is represented in my family tree as well.
I believe that the only possibility of a relationship with me not being “mixed” in some way would be for him to convert to my own religion or for me to swallow my pride, honor, and disdain for language that doesn’t apply to me and convert to another religion myself. I do not have a cultural identity—not even Axel’s “biker” BDSM one (which in his view no longer existed as a culture by his standards; but then again he was a curmudgeon, which is a compliment in my view.)
While I don’t personally hold to the notion that we’re all supposed to have universal acceptance of one another it would seem that Jewish separatism is about the only white separatism that is socially justifiable today. That’s ridiculous! All groups have the right to remain closed. I can say this even knowing that any closed group in my experience requiring my conversion to their ideology before entry would exclude me. Thanks in advance for not wasting my time. I realize this stance puts my very survival in jeopardy.
I understand that the Jews feel themselves to be persecuted while taking no responsibility for their contribution to that dysfunctional relationship. In the same way that a woman with “Battered Woman’s Syndrome,” rarely takes responsibility for the choices in relationships she makes, and bed she makes to lay in. A “Henpecked man” is the same albeit our Feminist culture of today lionizes the former while ridiculing the latter.
I suppose an “Amazonian” (Germanic) WASP blonde with a reasonably good education has no reason to call herself “persecuted” except I was, and have even gone “wandering” to look for my “homeland!” I’ve been the figure on the dartboard for a host of aggrieved groups merely because of my appearance and my vocabulary. I’m capable of dumbing it down in the necessary circumstances, but why should I? I’m a self-made former teen-aged runaway. I admire self-made people. What’s the point of wallowing in victimhood unless one is merely looking for a handout? Not something I enjoy doing, but I have. I can say with some authority that I know that being hungry and not having a roof over one’s head can change a person. However, in terms of a balance sheet, my record of giving completely overwhelms the money on the charity-to-me side but that doesn’t mean I don’t remember how it feels. The position of patron is a far more comfortable one for me if out of reach in my present circumstances.
So, I invite Jews who would like the privilege of feeling both superior to me and self-righteous to donate to my worthy cause. While you’re at it, all Black women who have never had their eye nearly gauged out of jealousy, had their teeth knocked out, or set on street, or who have lived in a “hometown” most of their lives are also welcome to feel bigger than me and donate. All women who either married well or divorced well are welcome to feed me a dose of humble pie including those who are fat, short, or whatever else makes them feel especially victimized. Men who are not crippled by alimony, child support, or punitive taxation are also welcome to contribute. If you are surrounded by family and community with whom you have a sense of commonality, then, by all means, own your privilege and donate.