Being Jewish is something that I wear on my sleeve and that I am very proud to be. We need to be very aware of our history and heritage and of sharing that with the next generation. We need to stand tall and proud in the wider community and to share our values and to respect and understand the values of others.
It’s a part of who I am, coded into my heritage, culture and of course faith. It helps set default values to live by — some may call that guilt, but I think it’s also conscience — an acceptance that my responsibility stretches beyond the selfish to my community and to wider society.
Being British and Jewish; a life of symbolism, purpose and echoes; feeling that, somehow, I ought to make a difference; knowing that every week brings Jewish events of pleasure and resonance into my home; feeling pride in this tiny people who continue to have global consequence.
It’s about much-loved traditions of extended family, of celebrating festivals and Friday nights, of sharing the full life cycle. As a wife and a mother it is about continuing these traditions and helping our sons to love and look forward to them as much as I did.
Being Jewish is about family and community, hard work and tzedakah (charity); it is about compassion and ethical behaviour as part of everyday life. It is about values and shared traditions for over 3,500 years; it’s about culture and chicken soup and above all, it’s about being a mensch.
Being Jewish means a sense of family and community. It means giving and caring. It means subscribing to a religion that is over 5,000 years old. It means that all over the world wherever I travel, I will nine times out of ten find a fellow Jew with a common heritage. Being Jewish means discipline in the way I run my life. Being Jewish has its risks, but also rewards.
To me, being Jewish means carrying the burden of 5,000 years. Sometimes the burden is as light as honeycomb. Sometimes it is filled with stones and stacked-up paper. People either envy me my airy backpack or regard my stones with incomprehension or bored indifference. My job is to acknowledge both precious burdens as one, to talk about it to my children and to shoulder it with pride.
Close family and community ties, supporting and caring for others. It also means having the self-discipline to say: ‘no, I mustn’t do that.’ And the most wonderful element is Shabbat. A day for resting with friends and family, without the normal work stress. I couldn’t survive without it!
Nothing is ever simple. It means always buying an extra round so that nobody will call you mean, endlessly hoping Israel will do the right thing so you won’t have to defend it at dinner parties, and praying for girls so you don’t have to talk about circumcision.
To propagate with pride values rooted in our ancient history, and breathe life into them through deeds vested in the system of social justice we brought to this world. To relive but overcome the fears of our traumatised past, learn from the writings of our sages and teach my children the derech (path) of a Jew.