Friday, February 4, 2011
Posted by Zek J. Evets at 12:01 AM
It has been brought my attention that I am not your average Jew.
Apparently having experienced anti-Semitism in the form of neo-Nazi-skinhead-punk beatings, vandalism of my synagogue, condescending ignorance from a driver's ed teacher, enduring slurs spoken to my face, and a myriad plethora of other instances qualifies me for: Official Victim Status.
Don't get me wrong; what happened to me was horrific. However, maybe it's the sheer surreality of it all but I can't help feeling... blasé.
See, unlike most of the other hip Yids out there in Jewish-land, I grew up never really questioning or intellectualizing my experiences with anti-Semitism. It's only been recently that I've started to take a hard look at my past, and realize the depth of the prejudice I was forced to deal with from a very young age and even now into my 20's.
In fact, with the exception of some oldsters in the fancy ghettos of Florida and New York, I don't know anyone who's could actually tell me about a specific instance of anti-Semitism that happened to them.
I'm not trying to get into some kind of competition. This isn't the Oppression Olympics. But I do want to highlight that even when talking to people who've had direct experience with racism, sexism, classism, and other forms of prejudice, my stories make them feel uncomfortable.
Maybe it's because I don't act like a guy who's had the Holocaust denied to his face on multiple occasions while being called a Kike.
Maybe it's just because I'm used to this shit. It doesn't surprise me; it doesn't faze me.
Sure, I get upset. I internalize and fume and bluster with righteous anger, but ultimately I always end up shrugging my shoulders and continue walking.
Recently, having talked and written about these things has released a lot of pent-up emotions. The reactions of the people listening -- or reading! -- have often been the catalyst in my own realization that what's happened to me is... wrong.
By wrong I mean seriously wrong. Like the kind of wrong people write into Lifetime movies. The kind that goes into books for high school students to pretend to read. The kind that goes on Oprah or gets a feature in Time magazine. The kind that wakes people up to the horrible things happening around them.
The writing helps though; its always been my personal catharsis. Someday I might even write a whole book about it.
Until then, I'll just keep blogging.