Korê in New York

What happens when a kid refuses to leave the past behind? What happens when the past won't go away? Read on and don't worry about the emotional damage.

1. Songs and Chants

   I went to teen minnyan at Lincoln Square on Saturday morning, and Nervy had junior congregation. They call Nervy, Malka at the synoaguge or at least they try to. Malka, her middle name, is Hebrew. Her first name, like my own is a Latin translation of a character from Greek mythology, only Minerva is Athena, the Goddess of wisdom, Kore is Persephone, a demigod at best and a hapless deity’s daughter at worst. They tried calling me Kinneret which is my middle name and which is Hebrew, but they mispronounced it. It may be the Hebrew pronunciation, but as an English speaker, I say Kinneret to rhyme with minaret, not Kin-ear-et, with the accent on the ear. I finally told them to please call me Kore, pronounced ko-ray. That is the name which everyone calls me who uses my first name.

   Minerva was even more insistent. “Malka is just my middle name. I’m Nervy. Nervy is short for Minerva. That’s my name. My mom gave it to me. You don’t have to like it, but it’s my name!” That got the point across. She’s otherwise one of the best kids in junior congretation where the kids goof off, slack off, wander around the synagogue and don’t pay attention. Nervy wants to sing and learn and follow the Bible story which we go over at home and then discuss.

   Saturday after services, I received a very backhanded compliment from one of the girls in teen minyan. “If you don’t know Hebrew how did you learn all those songs?” she asked. The girl was pastey faced and wore a horrible black  jumper with a clingy white “shell” under it. The jumper cried out for flaming red or something funky and a big jewelry treatment. Me, I wore my military style olive drab skirt with pockets and my salmon pink pullover, sweater. Black jumper should have known the answer to that question. “I have CD’s of hymns at home,” I replied.

   Black jumper blinked. “Hymns is the English word for religious songs,” I informed Black Jumper. Black Jumper giggled. I wasn’t part of her club and was utterly clueless even if I could hold my own in services. “What school do you go to?” once again Black Jumper’s questions seemed innocent.

   “Brooklyn Tech,” I replied and handed Black Jumper my business card. This made the poor girl snort with laughter. I fought down my anger. Whatever game this kid was playing was one I no longer got. Even kids at Houghton weren’t this stuck up.

   “You never even studied for your bas mitzvah did you?” Black Jumper continued her pointless game.

   “No,” I answered. “I don’t know Hebrew.”

   “Then what are you doing here?” OK, I could see where this went.

   “I want to go to services. I like to pray. I believe in God and I read the Bible. I also like the hymns. Do you have a problem with that?” All of my reasons were acceptible for going to church or synagogue or any other house of worship. In fact, they were the best reasons in the world.

   “Do you know this is an Orthodox Jewish schul?” We were back to the game again. I felt like answering: “Duh!”

   “Of course,” I replied.

   “And are you Jewish?”

   “Yeah, both my parents are.” That it’s my Italian American stepmother who thinks I Nervy and I should attend services would probably rock Black Jumper’s world. “I’m just more of a  universalist in the way I see the world than you. In a way that’s a strength,” I lectured back slipping into RoAnn mode. Let’s see what Black Jumper made of my remarks?

   “Aren’t universalists Unitarians?” asked a boy in red  kipah.

   “Yes, but that’s a different meaning of the word.” The boy was on my territory.

   “Are any of you in Young Achievers?” I asked giving the conversation a final flip. I hoped it would be final after all.

   “We don’t need to be in Young Achievers,” Black Jumper replied.

   “Why not?” I asked.

   “We are Jews. We are getting a Jewish education. That’s enough.”

   “Your schools are resistant. Why not put them on the map?” I argued.

   “We don’t care about some goyim’s map,” replied a blond boy.

   “Would you please not use epithets around me?” I asked blondie.

   “What epithet?” the boy asked. He truely was clueless.

   “Goy is an epithet for nonJew. Please don’t use it.”

   “She’s politically correct,” Black Jumper never missed a beat.

   “You’re effing prejudiced,” I spat back.

   “If you don’t like it here, go to a reformed temple,” Black Jumper answered.

   “You wouldn’t last a week in Young Achievers,” I spat back and it was true. I didn’t think any of these kids would last a week at Brooklyn Tech. They’d learn they weren’t unique. The Chinese are as old an ethnic group as we are and have a diaspora just like we do and are every bit as successful. Then there are kids that just shine no matter what their background. There are smart kids with potty mouths, and other smart kids who come to school in embroidered cardigans and retain their gentility. There are smart kids who eat blood sausage. There are smart kids that drink Slim Fast for lunch, and other smart kids who get a free school lunch. If you’re smart and able, you’re smart and able.

   And yes, I’ll keep going to teen minyan. The rabbi likes me. We might argue occasionally but he likes me. I’m not jaded. Being here voluntarily because “religion is good for me,” makes all the difference.

   That said, I was glad to be back home and ready to change into old clothes and go shopping. Ivanna complained she was hungry as did Nervy. “You’ll buy more food,” RoAnn said. She did not think this was a bad thing. Dad was coming back sooner or later. “Want Kapor’s for supper?” RoAnn asked Ivanna as we rode to Fairway in the music-free truck.

   “Yeah,” Ivanna replied. “OK, I’ll orer it while I have my coffee. What are you girls getting?” RoAnn addressed Nervy and me.

   “Butternut squash soup,” answered Nervy who really thought about it.

   “Do they sell that?” RoAnn shouldn’t have asked.

   I’d seen it. “It’s not going to have much stuff in it,” I explained.

   “We can add vegetables,” Nervy all ready had a recipe in her head. “Green peas and carrots might be good in squash soup,” I answered. RoAnn wriggled up her nose in disgust. I wanted to laugh. I needed to laugh.

   Saturday night was Ivanna’s social night. We went up to Main Hall to study while Nervy spent the evening at the Zantes. The stage was open and the people with stars in their heads were performing for half a dozen buses full of the faithful. This time Shantay was singing a song about faith but also a new hit single: “Mommy Listen to Me.” Shantay’s propagand in the form of music made my skin crawl. She used to be one of my favorite singers. “What a waste of talent,” I thought sadly. Then I asked Ivanna if there were stars coming out of Shantay’s head. She said there were and that she should draw Shantay.

   She drew. She read. I studied Math B and biology. I had a practice regents Tuesday afternoon. My scores were sagging because I had too much on my mind, but this awful weekend would just not quit.

   May 2, we had a Young Achiever’s meeting in Valhalla. RoAnn drove which meant Ivanna got to spend the whole day with the Dodgson’s, one of her friends’ families. Ivanna was clearly back in circulation. I also realized she was probably here to stay since ECBAS legal department did not want to handle a third spousal kidnapping that might end up in criminal court. Let Ivanna figure out that she sold herself cheaply. Hopefully by then she would have stars coming out of her own head, because she worked hard at dancing and was probably fairly good at it.

   RoAnn talked to Piper about every sibling needing his or her own niche as we rode up the Deegan toward the Cross Westchester instead of the Sprain Brook Parkway and then on, up north, into Valhalla. We’d probably have most of our meetings here from now on since there were more and better rooms for break outs. The college did not care if kids drank soda, and the auditorium was large enough so we could all be together for the opening presentation.

   Piper got to talk about the first academic migrants. I got to discuss Ivanna’s return. I was glad I was discussing Ivanna and not Kyril. Ivanna had found something to do. People with something to do usually don’t spend their time bothering others. I also said I missed the CD’s in the van. I really did. Conversation could just be a burden sometimes.

   Then I also managed to find Dr. Angelus. This was a first. He ate a salad instead of the pizza he and his minions ordered for us kids. I didn’t care. The pizza was good. You can get very good pizza in Westchester county. “Yes,” Dr. Angelus, did not want to be pulled away from his salad, or maybe discovered with it. It did not look like a very good salad, mostly lettuce and a lump of tuna made without relish or celery.

   “I need to talk to you about a bunch of resistant schools that aren’t on the map.”

   That got Dr. Angelus’ attention. I then gave the schools’ names.

   “Those are all religious schools,” he said not wanting to call them day schools since all schools where kids don’t board are day schools. Being a Jewish religious school does not make you the only kind of day school in the world.

   “So what,” I replied. “We have a chapter at Stepanac.”

   “I see what you mean. Well, it may take an adult talking to the principal, but we have to make sure everyone joins us voluntarily. That is why it is better to begin with the students. You may need to be more persuasive, Kore.”

   “Fat chance,” I thought. You can guess, that I rode home from the meeting in a funk. RoAnn chatted it up about a double dip in the recession and deficit spending in Europe with a pair of kids whose interest was foreign policy. Nervy slept, snoring soft Nervyworm snores. I stared out the window. It looked like rain. I needed to study. I tried to picture Black Jumper, blondie, and the rest of that stuck up teen  minyan crew as Young Achievers. “You wouldn’t last a week, ” I told them in my mind and then I backtracked. “You need the opportunity to see if you’ll last or maybe you need a real education.” Why should I deny you that?

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