I am one of God's chosen people. I am a part of the most overachieving and over-represented religious and ethnic group in the entire world. We have practiced our ways for close to 6,000 years, and have survived oppression throughout many of those days. We are world leaders and experts in the areas of law, business and medicine. Within the United States we overwhelmingly fill the ranks of the most prestigious universities. We own Hollywood, Las Vegas and Wall Street.
Yet, despite the titles, recognition, prestige, prejudices, stereotypes, bagel-jokes and multitude of other references I try not to associate myself with these classifications. I do not believe that God has chosen me over the next guy as one of his peeps. I am more than content with what I am, but I will not let that dictate who I am. Yes, I am Jewish, but that does define who I will marry, what I will eat, and who I will associate with for the rest of my life. I have chosen not to follow this path not out of disdain, but because it is not me. I turn to my faith in matters of life and death; I attend services when I wish to be at peace; I will make a donation when I see a worthy cause; and I will stand up to anyone who tries to attack Jews.
For me, the greatest thing about Judaism is that I can practice it based upon what I believe in, and not what others tell me I should believe.
Here at Duke, most Jews have assimilated into the so-called "Western" or "Anglo" society more so than other ethnic and religious minorities. I do not know the exact number, but I would estimate that about 18 (just a coincidence) to 20 percent of Duke's 10,000 students are self-identified Jews. Of these students I bet that most of them do not keep kosher, attend services only on the High-Holidays and Passover, and do not hang out with only other Jews. We join greek, selective-house and non-selective house organizations; we serve as Duke Student Government officers; we organize community service events; we write for The Chronicle; and, just like everyone else, we go on to make Duke proud after we graduate.
In addition, two high ranking administrators (Moneta & Ruderman), one leading fundraiser (Fleischman), and the all time men's basketball team scoring average leader (that's right, #25 in the rafters, at 25.1 pts/game) are Jewish, as are many other faculty members and alumni. Other than those guys who occasionally speak on campus and claim the Holocaust did not happen, there are very few Jewish-related controversies at Duke.
In fact, the most awful event happened my sophomore year when the Torah got dropped by the guy leading services during the High-Holidays; a classic considering most of us who went to Hebrew school hold onto it for dear life out of fear of doing just that.
Although most of the New Yorkers expected burning crosses on East Campus and Durhamites looking for horns in our heads, Duke remains a welcoming place for almost all Jews.
The problem for us comes after we leave the Gothic Wonder Land and enter the real world. The tendencies of the "Jewish American Princess" (aka 'JAP,' not meant towards Asians) stays imbedded in the minds of many of the young ladies, and Duke to them serves as a four year break from strictly associating with Jews.
For the guys, when it comes time to settle down more often than not (though not as much as in the past) most Jewish males look for a Jewish princess to wed. These unspoken pressures to stick to our own no doubt come from our parents, family, and others within the Jewish community who have taught us that no matter who you end up with your kids must be raised Jewish (for Sex & The City fanatics, think of Charlotte and Harry... sorry Tal).
We eventually join Jewish country clubs and "JCC's" (Jewish Community Center) if we come from the Midwest or South; move into mostly Jewish communities near a synagogue if we live up East or out West; we get jobs in the same firms as our parents or parents' golfing friends; we play "Jewish geography" on family vacations; we talk heatedly about how we must protect Israel; and we "gossip" both positively and negatively about the other members of the Jewish community as if they are a part of the family.
Why, after arriving at Duke and opening our eyes and emotions to so much and so many different people, are we expected to go back to sticking to our own?
After an amazing experience at Duke, is it that our parents and others cannot understand our yearning to continue to go beyond our ethnic upbringing or do we willingly accept that once college ends we go back to our previous lives?
I honestly do not know the answers, but I can only speak for myself and say that I will not follow the set path provided to me by my fellow Jewish peers. I would much rather do what feels right, and try to educate those Jews who quite often advocate equal rights and understanding for all, yet remain hesitant about welcoming any of those differences into their homes.
When I leave Duke, I will never forget what I am, but I will never let go off those who have made the difference in my life as far as who I am, regardless of who they are.
David Nefouse is a second-year law student. His column appears every other Friday.
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