Sweet and sour tongue was a new appetizer to me, a Methodist girl from rural Missouri, but it tasted great. Anxious to make a good impression at my first holiday dinner with my fiancee’s New York Jewish family I said, “This is delicious, Aunt Anna.”
“Oh, I didn’t know your kind liked it,” she said.
Luckily for me, Aunt Anna was the only verbissene (sourpuss) in Fred’s large and welcoming family. Forty-four Roshashana dinners later, I’m still happy that I married into a Jewish family, and I’m proud of my Jewish husband, children, and grandchildren.
That is not to say that the going has always been smooth and easy. When we married and agreed that we would raise our children Jewish, we naively thought that since both of us were agnostics we would not face major difficulties. But, as I read recently in an anti-intermarriage website called SimpletoRemember, “In intermarriages, the issue of Jewish identity emerges sooner or later, even where the couple thought they had it figured out in advance.” I’m starting this blog to provide a space where we shiksas can pool our experiences, questions, answers, problems, and joys. I’m certainly not a maven (expert) but I’ll gladly share what I’ve learned along the way—and I’m hoping you readers will help me with your comments and suggestions.
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