Early in our relationship, I proclaimed, “I need to raise my kids Jewish.” My now husband said yes. Neither of us knew what that’d look like, but we were ready to take on the challenge. In doing so we created a foundation for real multigenerational respect and allyship.
I admit, I fully underestimated what marrying into a non-Jewish family would entail. At first, I was non-confrontational, actively hiding what made me uncomfortable. Who’s going to stop a bunch of Lutherans from their sing-along Jesus prayer before dinner? But by avoiding these vulnerable conversations, I wasn’t growing my relationships with my new extended family.
This came to a head at a family gathering only a few days after Oct. 7, 2023. Mentally, I wasn’t there. I was utterly traumatized, replaying the horrors and considering what it all meant for my 11-month-old son or soon-to-be-born daughter. I was the only Jew in the room, and that night I felt it.
I knew from that moment I could no longer be passive about my Judaism, or I’d likely lose it. The only aspect in my own control going forward was shielding my babies by fortifying the walls of my Jewish home.
My mother-in-law is a well-read woman and when she asked about antisemitism, I was surprised at how quickly she finished Dara Horn’s book. Then, after reading Noa Tishby’s book, she wrote to her city council member, “Have we become such a model city and solved all our problems to the extent we can become advisors on international conflicts? Honestly, the most difficult class I ever took in college (and the lowest grade I ever received) was Middle Eastern politics. Can we focus on Minneapolis? Thank you!”
And suddenly, I had an ally.
That summer she rode along to pick up my son from preschool at our synagogue. After seeing the security measures our community takes to keep our children physically safe, she sat quietly in her own thoughts. Finally, she looked over to me and asked, “if this gets worse will you move your family to Israel?” The books were an opening, but now we were having an actual conversation about my fears for her grandchildren.
On a recent Shabbat, I listened to Rabbi Davis’ sermon centering around the film October 8 and allyship. “More than ever we need a sweet multitude of people to journey with us and help build our community… There is another whole group of people who are members of our community. Married to a Jewish partner, sometimes they practice another faith. Often, they practice no faith. But they and their interfaith family have chosen Beth El as their Jewish home, a place to raise Jewish Children. They have not committed to the covenant. And we respect their decision. But they have committed to our community. And we celebrate and are grateful to them.”
I thought about my interfaith family and how far they’d come. But I was also inspired to use the film for navigation. Up until that point, I still hadn’t opened up personally. The movie gave me the tools and space to be confrontational.
The day after she saw the film, I made a point to meet with her. Her initial reaction was shock at “the money.” The enormous funds that are actively funneled into anti-Israel educational programming and protests on American college campuses. We were then able to touch on topics like my utter confusion and worries in sending our children to an American university down the line if immediate changes are not implemented.
Finally, I felt comfortable sharing some of the personal decisions my husband and I were making. The motivations for leaving our starter home in Minneapolis. Why we wouldn’t associate with an extended family member sharing hurtful disinformation about Zionism. Our concerns with media biases when it comes to antisemitism and Israel.
She took the conversation in stride. The work of two years to get to this point of openness and understanding paid off. I now have in-laws who sit at my family’s table for Rosh Hashanah. Light candles with us and are active participants in my kids’ lives at shul. Arguably, I have in laws more supportive than some Jews who do marry within another Jewish home. I have come to learn how foreign this encouragement is. I have many friends in interfaith marriages who do not have in laws willing to not only learn but actively participate in their Jewish lives. I have heard many friends’ deep hurt because bottom line, it does not get more personal than choosing to be prideful in your Jewish home and not have steadfast understanding from your partner’s family. But what we can do is talk about this journey, to normalize our experiences and share what has eased this process in a very scary time.
Wonderful commentary, Kate. So excited to have you and your family as our new neighbors.