Ima 2 Eight

I went to two public high schools. One in CT, and one in MA – we moved when I was 16, which is just about the worst time in your life to move. Except for maybe 17.

The former HS has scheduled a reunion for this summer, and thanks to the amazing wonders of Facebook I am now in the loop enough to be invited despite my lack of status as a graduate.

However, many months before I go I find myself already feeling like I am back in High School.

I didn’t grow up Orthodox, or anywhere close. But in our little, waspy, very Connecticut town I was the closest thing to a super frummy Jew anyone encountered. And opportunities to let me know were almost never passed up.

I stayed out of school the second day of Rosh Hashanah (gasp!). I took my PSAT’s on a Tuesday instead of Saturday. I had a kosher house, missed play practice for Hebrew School, wrote school essays on Jewish topics, and explained to many of classes things like “why it is offensive for the history teacher to tell everyone that the Jews killed Jesus”.

I didn’t mind being the “super Jew” of the school. I didn’t love it either. I wasn’t allowed to date non-Jews, which didn’t help the situation much. I faced that particular problem by finding out where the Jewish boys were – USY – and going there. I only found out months into high school that while I was off at USY events most weekends the kids in my school assumed I was home studying like a big nerd because I wasn’t at their parties. I am quite sure that misconception wasn’t cleared up for most.

Many years later I have reconnected with a lot of people from that little town where I grew up.  I didn’t get to see the end of everyone’s school story because of the move, and most of us had been together straight through since kindergarten.  I have  been hoping there will be a reunion.

There was a posting that a reunion (twenty years already) is being planned. A poll went out by the event organizer about what dates and times will work best for people.  I wrote in my response that Saturday day would be out of the question for me so I would strongly prefer a Sunday event, but I would love to come and will do my best to participate in whatever parts of the weekend I can.  In other words “gee, I would really love it if you could make special accomodations because of my religion, but when you don’t I will smile and come along anyhow.”  — Just like in high school.

Then the response to the poll was sent out and the event is going to be on a Saturday. I hope to go Saturday night. With my head covered, my long skirt, my children with their Hebrew names, and if  I am really lucky, some horrid kosher airline food brought in for me.  I will feel like “super Jew” all over again, just like in high school.

When I was growing up, I was very proud of my Judaism and I definitely wore it on my sleeve. I was responsible for that impression, even though I truly didn’t consciously encourage it.  At the same time, I was a lot of things; a musician, a good student, an actress, a friend, a troubled teen, an activist, and a student council member.  And yet I always felt that my peers didn’t see that. All they saw was “super Jew”.

Now it is half a year before a reunion I have always wanted to attend.  I am not worried about the weight I have gained. I was heavy when I left there, and most people are unaware of how much thinner I got in between. I wasn’t one of the “pretty ones”, and back then I didn’t care. I still am not one of the “pretty ones”, and I still don’t care.

I am happy with and proud of my choices, my family, my career, and my Jewish growth and development. But I fear that I will walk in the room and all of those people will still only see “super Jew” — just like in high school.