Good morning! On today’s episode of “The Pretend Jew,” our heroine waivers on hosting the Hanukkah open house in her home because her Christmas tree is still up. And who doesn’t love her confused expression every time she’s in synagogue (she doesn’t speak Hebrew!) and has no idea when to sit down! And here’s your hostess … Deanna!

Yes, that would be me. “The Pretend Jew,” I like to call myself in conversation. Raised Reform, don’t speak Hebrew, dropped out during my early adult life, oblivious to many intricate traditions that others seem to know innately.

Yet I’m also responsible for raising our son Jewishly. Dillon, now 9, clearly identifies as a Jew. How did that happen? (Read the full story on Interfaith Family)

I wrote that piece last year as a guest writer for Interfaith Family, but was reminded of it over the past week during Passover.  Holidays are a wonderful time to extend and perpetuate traditions. 

Our seder ended up being 22 people, Jewish and not-Jewish, from Russia to Brazil, from 5 months to age 60+–Whenever someone Jewish says they have no place to go, or another shares they’ve never been to a seder, I can’t help myself but to extend an invitation.

This year Dillon and I burned bread together the day before Passover began–my son’s idea–a tradition done as a symbol of fully clearing our house of Hometz (contraband flour and like items, although I emphasize the word “symbol” considering what remained in our cabinets!), made tzimmes (a traditional sweet potato, carrot and prune dish), and added a new “keeper,” chocolate matzo brittle. 

Mostly I like creating and building the traditions and tastes of our respective cultures.  I love coating bananas in cinnamon and powdered sugar, sauteeing them in butter, because that’s what Dillon’s Brazilian grandma made for breakfast.  We all wear white on New Year’s Eve, another Brazilian custom, and only found out afterward that, lo and behold, it’s a Jewish custom too, for Yom Kippur. 

What customs do you share in your family?  How do you blend the traditions of two cultures in an intercultural family?

Dave Barry was always able to just take vacation and run old columns.  For me, I’m entering a new world that is based in economic disparity and developmental disabilities–absolutely at the top of the engagement and inclusion/social exclusion list, but new territory that hasn’t quite gelled.  So in the meantime, I’m periodically re-running posts that were personal favorites.  After all, how can you not love a FULL-SCALE replica of an Easter Island Head, on someone’s lawn next to the Wendy’s in a little town in Wisconsin…

(from June 25, 2008)  I’ve been pondering this issue of “Cultural Tourism,” and realize that the better term for what I am talking about, experiencing and appreciating other cultures in a way to diminish prejudice, is more accurately named Urban Anthropology.  A tourist, by definition, is “someone who is traveling for pleasure.”  It is a passive view from the outside, with no commitment to learning or change, hence the perhaps valid criticism of it’s ineffectiveness as a meaningful tool to combat racism.

Urban Anthropologists, on the other hand, “look at how people living in diverse communities cope with current social and cultural changes.  They study the kinds of social relationships and patterns of social life unique to cities.” (per Rosa Cabrera, Center for Cultural Understanding and Change at The Field Museum.)  Plus, anthropologists get to do “ethnography” and “participant observation,” where they become part of the ‘culture’ they are ‘studying’ and participate in activities along with the culture they are observing and learning about.

It’s along those lines that my son L and I took off with another of his 7 year old friends on a road trip from Chicago to Ephraim, WI, to see the Norwegian Fyr Bal festival and experience what I think of as real “Americana.”

We saw a statue of Romeo the Killer Elephant in Delavan, WI (according to roadsideamerica.com he trampled 8 people to death but was spared because he was sad after the loss of his female companion, but the statue in town square just identified him as a symbol of Delavan’s history as the Circus capital of the Midwest in the late 1800’s), we then saw an exact, full-scale replica of an Easter Island head on someone’s lawn in New Berlin, WI, where we also happened upon a rummage sale with Pokemon Cards on sale for 50 cents, had Ice Cream Sundae’s in Two Rivers, which claims to have invented them, and took our picture with the World’s Largest Grandfather Clock, before settling into Ephraim for the fish boil and bonfire ceremonies that are a tradition for this festival (we stayed at the Trollhaugen Lodge, which of course had statues of trolls all around, and had breakfast at a restaurant with goats on the roof-real, live goats who graze on the grass covered roof of Al Johnson’s Swedish Restaurant).

You have to really like this type of thing to thoroughly relish stretching a four hour drive into eight hours, with all of our stops and using the county highways and side roads (wind surfing with your hand out the window while speeding through farm fields along a two-lane county highway is pure freedom!).  At any rate, this is a polite way of saying it was just me and the boys, because anyone else might spontaneously combust.  Granted, I planned the trip out, had detailed directions from AAA, knew we would only drive during the day, and had covered basic safety issues, but other than that had no apprehension that we would not be welcome or that we would face any safety concerns out of the ordinary. And my expectations along those lines were fully met.

Which makes me wonder.  Is this a universal experience, or is the fact that I am fearless throughout this entire trip an indicator of my white privilege?  I’m left with a nagging feeling it is–the idea that as a white person I can go anywhere.  But what am I saying if I believe minorities should be afraid of taking this same road trip?  I set out to discover true Americana in small town America, but am left wondering if that is an oxymoron, and if this was at the end of the day, completely ‘white’ Americana not only showing the divide in our day to day experiences, but also acknowledging the deeper need to understand our possibly separate experiences of growing up in the same country.

The Illinois-Sao Paulo Chapter of Partners of the Americas is proud to present a 10 day exchange with Sao Paulo-based African Dance and Drumming performance artist Fanta Konate’s cultural mission to Chicago December 1-10. Fanta will reach out to 1000’s in the Chicago area with dance and rhythm workshops showcasing Guinean influence on Brazilian music, including the following public events:

African Sensory Experience

Friday, December 3, 2010 Ÿ 6-10 pm

Suggested Donation $20

Presented in partnership with Jane Addams Hull-House Museum

The University of Illinois at Chicago

800 S. Halsted

RSVP to ksuzanne@uic.edu

Fanta Konatê and Luis Kinugawa of the Africa Viva Institute present an African Sensory Experience. Engaging all senses, this workshop shares the deep culture of Guinea Conakry with participants, combining a history of the region with participatory dance and rhythm workshop and culminating with a taste of West African flavors in a typical Guinean meal.

African Dance & Percussion Workshop

Saturday, December 4, 2010 Ÿ 2-5 pm

FREE

Presented in partnership with Gingarte Capoeira Chicago

1501 West Chicago Avenue

Dance workshop and presentation with Fanta Konate and Luis Kinugawa, with potluck to follow.   Come early for Capoeira Roda for kids and adults, presented by Gingarte Capoeira.

West Africa Dance Introductory Class with Fanta Konate

Saturday, December 10, 2010 Ÿ 2-4 pm

FREE

Presented in partnership with praxis place/CCBdance Project

1474 North Milwaukee Ave., Third Floor

Register at celiaandchristianbambaradance@gmail.com

This is a story about pumpkin carving.  Or is it really a story about jumping to conclusions and applying generalizations too quickly?

The scene was last Friday at a friend’s party.  One of the guests, Steve (Causasian) said “hey, let’s bring pumpkins and make Jack-o-lanterns!”

“Yeah, let’s do it” I echoed, a fellow (Caucasian) pumpkin carving lover.

Steve, an architect, ditched us at the get-go.  When he saw us traipsing down the stairs with table cloths, only 2 scoops, one knife, and six children, two of them under the age of five, he absconded to the kitchen, bringing his secret stash of carving tools with him.

That left me and Dillon, Carolina (Hispanic) and her four daughters, and Victor (also Hispanic) and his son.  We set the kids up, carved circles in the tops for the opening and dug in.  The kids started enthusiastically, pulling out handfuls of seeds and slime and showing them to each other menacingly.

At some point, however, all of the children decided to watch a movie, leaving the three parents alone to finish the nasty job of scraping the walls on the inside of the pumpkin.

“HELLO,” I thought as I smiled to myself.  This moment of abandonment is actually part of the tradition!  As is the moment of thinking (or perhaps lamenting outloud) Why the X#$%#@$ are we doing this anyway?

“I’ve never done this before,” said Carolina.  “Maybe this is why.”

“Me either,” added Victor, whose son also had left to play. “This is hard work.”

“It gets better,” I assured them.  Having made Jack-0-Lanterns as a kid with my dad, even holding a Jack-o-Lantern carving party in college, and religiously doing it with my son since he was three, I couldn’t believe they had never carved pumpkins!

“Hmm,” was my immediate thought.  “Maybe Pumpkin Carving is just not done in Hispanic culture?”

And then, you realize your pumpkin is clean enough to carve.  You cut out an eye, stand back, and think, hey, this looks kind of cool.

Your child senses it and comes back and wants to help.  But now it’s YOUR pumpkin.  “No you say, the knife is too sharp.”   But really you’re thinking “I don’t want some kid messing up MY pumpkin.”  Fully taken over by pumpkin carving fever, these were now our pumpkins.

One of Carolina’s pumpkins won the contest (even considering that Steve brought his pristine specimen to the basement for the competition), and our hostess, Janie, Filipino and also a “Pumpkin Virgin” (oh, I guess Filipino Americans don’t make Jack-o-Lanterns either) declared this an annual event at her home!

On Halloween, as I admired our handiwork (pictured above), I was still left with a curiosity about how Pumpkin Carving played out across USAmerican culture.

Turns out carving Jack-o-Lanterns originated from an Irish Myth (read it here on the History Channel) that came to the US with Irish and Scottish immigrants.  Originally made out of turnips, potatoes or beets in the ‘old country,’ pumpkins were found to be the perfect material in the US.

And while not born in Latin America, there’s no corroboration for my theory that Hispanic Americans do not carve pumpkins.

Know why the rhetoric was so annoying this election season?  Because many took a look at the actions of one person and declared it as the habits or characteristics of an entire group.  Democrats do this.  Republicans do that.

My pumpkins are a benign topic (and hopefully I’m getting invited back to next year’s pumpkin carving event!), but noticing how quickly I jumped to a huge assumption about an entire cultural group because of this one coincidence–well, now that’s scary.

What about you, do you carve pumpkins?  Or better, do you notice your unconscious conclusions, and the assumptions or stereotypes that got you there?

Where can you hear 13 hours of Jazz for FREE?

At the Hyde Park Jazz Festival, Saturday, September 25, 2010.  The event runs from 1 pm to 2 am and takes place in 13 landmark and unexpected venues across Chicago’s Hyde Park neighborhood, from the Oriental Institute to Frank Lloyd Wright’s Robie House, to the James W. Wagner Main Stage on the Midway Plaisance, just south of 59th between Ellis and Woodlawn.

We will have 20,000 jazz lovers coming to Barack Obama’s stomping grounds to hear 150 musicians performing throughout the day.  And all of this is wonderful (okay, for full disclosure I am the Festival Manager this year, so it better be wonderful!) but the real story is the amazing, wonderful, delightful, energetic, and all around NICE volunteers.

350 volunteers will fill over 400 volunteer slots, contribuing 1,600+ hours of volunteer service to make sure that everyone at the event has an amazing time.  Volutneers come because they love Hyde Park, because they love Jazz, because they are new to town and thought it would be a great way to get involved.  The come for 3 hours, 5 hours, even 12 hours at a shot to make sure the day runs smoothly.

So, if you are at the Hyde Park Jazz Festival this Saturday, which I hope you will be, and you see the volunteers in the Bright Green Volunteer shirts–please be sure to say thank you…they are the most amazing and kind people I have ever met!

Photo by Marc Monaghan

I found out from my Chinese-American friend (my designation-not sure how he self-identifies) on his Facebook update today that he felt misled by what he thought was a traditional Mexican holiday.  However, he discovered and shared that:

Cinco de Mayo is only a big deal in America. It’s not even a holiday in Mexico…It’s actually a Hallmark Holiday!!!

Is Cinco de Mayo a Mexican Tradition?

A quick Internet search reveals there is an original tie to Mexico.  The holiday commemorates the victory of the Mexican militia over the French army at The Battle of Puebla in 1862.  The holiday is celebrated regionally throughout the state of Puebla in Mexico. 

It seems that many (USAmericans) mistake Cinco de Mayo for Mexican Independence Day.  It’s not.  That holiday is celebrated September 16.  And for any art history buffs who also thought of Cinco de Mayo by Francisco Goya, that was made in 1808 in Spain, so no connection there either.

Or is it a US “Hispanic” Celebration?

And that, my friends, is the end of the history lesson, and the move into a sterotypically USAmerican “Hispanic” Holiday that brings together a melange of seemingly “hispanic” customs and traditions to celebrate Cinco de Mayo in the US.  (Suddenly I’m reminded of reports, albeit false, of former Vice President Dan Quayle’s lament that he hadn’t studied Latin to be able to communicate with ‘those people’ in Latin America.)

For my Facebook friend, he ads that “I’ll still be drinking, of course!” And he won’t be alone.

How it’s celebrated in the US

There’s everything from the celebration in Holyoke Colorado that begins with a Salsa Contest (which I just found out from a Panamanian salsa dance instructor has it’s roots in Cuba and Puerto Rico.) to the Cinco de Mayo Pub Crawl in Chicago that visits Moe’s Cantina, a Spanish Tapas Restaurant.  To note, the National Museum of Mexican Art, sort of the keeper of Mexican culture in Chicago, does not feature a Cinco de Mayo event.

So, is it all in good fun, or is it cultural appropriation?  Or perhaps it is, as my facebook friend discovered, simply a platform for marketing.

100% Commercial Value:  That’s USAmerican!

Companies such as Halloweenmart seem to perpetuate stereotypes, offering Cinco de Mayo ‘costumes’ that range from silly to bordering (or crossing the border) to offensive or racist, a la the Native American or Japanese Geisha costumes seen in October.  Target offers a selection of Cinco de Mayo books.  And, of course, you can order an online Cinco de Mayo card at Hallmark.

I’ll be curious to hear from my son tonight to see if the holiday was discussed at school (he did–in French class).  What do you think?  Do you celebrate Cinco de Mayo?  For the margaritas, or do you feel a cultural significance? 

Photo credit:  Metromix Chicago, round up of Chicago Cinco de Mayo Events.

When I was growing up, every year on Passover our tradition was that my sisters and I could each invite one non-Jewish friend (aka Gentile) to join us at Seder.  It was only in reinstating that practice as an adult, did I realize there might be some angst involved on the part of the guest, when our friend called frantic four times from the grocery store to make sure she was getting the right ingredients for the dish she was preparing.

So, if you happen to be attending a Seder tonight, here are a few tips to feel right at home.

Beware of “Chometz”

Many (most?) dinner guests hate to arrive without bringing something for the hostess, but what to bring during Passover?  Even if your host does not keep kosher, it’s best to stick with the “Kosher for Passover” mark on packages to be safe (ask for the Passover Section if your grocery store has one—in big stores that may be in a temporary area, separate from the Jewish section.) 

Don’t worry about baking something 1.) Because “Chometz”–anything that when mixed with water that can pass for a leavening agent is forbidden (e.g. yeast, flour, oats, barley, spelt and rye), except for Matzo, and 2.) In “really” kosher homes there are rules about which dishes you use and what food items can touch which dishes (some will have three sets of dishes/cookware:  one for milk, one for meat, and one just for Passover.) 

Macaroons are usually a safe bet, kosher wine, or those brightly colored fruit/gel slices.

Eat before you come.

Not really, there will be a huge meal after the Seder, but remember even the kids haggaddah that jumps right to the key activities will take an hour—a traditional Seder in Hebrew can last six hours!  So if you are invited for 6 pm (Sundown), assume you won’t be eating until after 7.  Plus there are either four cups (by ‘law’) or four sips (by practice) of wine during the Seder, so if you get tipsy easily on an empty stomach, have a little “nosh” beforehand.

Do not drink the wine from the Cup of Elijah

Although this was a favorite trick as a teenager, when no one was looking, to drink from the extra cup of wine set for the Prophet Elijah (look, Ma, it’s a miracle!), don’t do it at your Seder.  By tradition, the wine is poured and the door opened in the hopes that Elijah will join you at the table.  The belief is that when the prophet Elijah comes there will be peace on earth. 

This tip is right up there with don’t eat the Afikomen (the “dessert” Matzo that is hidden for the children to find), but if you give the child who finds the afikomen an extra $5 or $10 prize–you will be the favorite Seder guest for years to come!

Passover celebrates the gift of the 10 commandments, the belief in one god, and the liberation of the Jewish slaves in Egypt under Moses’ leadership (the flat Matzo is the symbol because the Jews didn’t have time to allow the bread to rise in their haste to flee). 

It’s a holiday to celebrate freedom, but also to remember and pray for those still enslaved around the world today.

Happy Passover.

 Photo credit flickr: AlphaTangoBravo/Adam Baker

Have you heard the old joke that plays on the philosophical question about a tree falling in the forest?  You know the one… “If you’re in the forest and you say something wrong and your spouse (of course I’m going with the gender neutral version!) doesn’t hear you, are you still wrong?”

While seemingly innocuous, it does reveal a critical distinction that permeates all of intercultural communications:  What you do/who you are versus how you are perceived or judged against the norms of society. 

In intercultural communications and anthropology, the idea is to give individuals and cultures hegemony, the power to exist in and of our own right, from our own point of first-person expression.

The story of 7-year-old Julia Lira, selected by her father Marco Lira to be the Samba Queen for the Viradouro School in the Carnaval parade in Rio is a case in point.

One the one hand, kids know how to samba in Brazil by the age of two…it’s part of the culture (I learned at 26 from my 3 and 4 year old nieces.)  Plus, it’s not crazy for a parent to think that their child is the best in everything.  And, as Lira says, “Any man who looks at a 7-year-old child and feels any sort of excitement should go see a doctor.”

On the flip side, Carnaval costumes are elaborate yet teeny, and samba moves in and of themselves can be seen as suggestive–I’ve tried teaching it in some of my aerobic classes in the US—our hips just don’t move that way!  (although for background, anyone can come in costume or join a Samba School and participate in Carnaval.)

While she did perform, it was nearly impossible for Julia just to simply be a little girl essentially putting on a dance recital.  Her actions cannot be interpreted separate from the history of the event which focuses on women as objects of desire.  (Or maybe it’s just that the women are gorgeous and therefore desireable—like the Neutrogena commercial… “don’t hate me because I am beautiful!”)  

While serving as food for thought, writing this piece confirms why I am not wont to form a strong position about current news stories without having the facts behind the story.  While Julia may be a cute little girl, the Viadouro school apparently drew controversy in 2008 by featuring a Hitler and Holocaust survivors.  That float was ruled illegal and denied entry, but it frames the current decision as exploitative of his daughter, to gain media coverage.    

In the final competition, Julia and the Viadouro school came in last.  The Samba Queen from the winning school was four months pregnant…a soon to be mom.

Maybe for next year we’ll just work on changing the norms through which women are viewed.

What do you think?

photo credit Times Online UK