This is the third installment in my three-part series on “becoming Southern and Jewish.”
For me, it’s the river that won my heart.
Here’s another in our periodic Something Special About the South series!
This post is the second in my three-part-series on “Becoming Southern and Jewish.”
There is some irony in the observance of “Labor Day” in our country: It is a holiday acknowledging the achievements of labor activists, and is intended to provide all workers in the United States with a day off, and yet it is often observed by white-collar workers only.
I’ve been active on Facebook since 2004. Right before I started college, Brandeis University was added to the then-still-exclusive site, and I was able to connect with my future classmates. More than a decade later, Facebook has evolved and become a huge force in most of our lives. Today my feed is crowded with baby photos, and I’m grateful for the ability to connect with friends and family across the country. It’s become something we all take for granted.
In March of 2013, I volunteered to swab people’s cheeks for a bone marrow registry drive at a National Council of Jewish Women (NCJW) conference. For a few hours, I sat behind a table and walked women through the easy steps of being swabbed. Near the end of my shift, I picked up a test kit and added myself to the registry. Then the event ended, and my life went on.
Over the course of the next few weeks, I’m going to share a series of posts about my reflection on “becoming Southern and Jewish.” It’s been seven years since I moved to Mississippi, and my time in the South has absolutely shaped my identity today– and continues to shape it, day by day.
Here’s another in our periodic series about making a home in Mississippi, and feeling that there’s something special about the South!
In college I was tasked with writing a “This I Believe” essay about my guiding beliefs and values. This assignment wasn’t faith-based in nature; the “This I Believe” essay initiative is just about people writing on something, anything, about which they feel passionate certainty. In writing this essay, I found that the hardest part was not to articulate my beliefs, but to identify them in the first place. In fact, it was only after I submitted my assignment and read one of my classmates’ essays, that I truly began to discover my own beliefs. Ever since then, my understanding of my own sentiments has deepened, and now, a year and a half after being assigned that essay topic, I feel like I have better words to express my own sentiments of belief.