Six-Pointed-Star

Fingers closing around the hard points,
her eyes shift to stare at me.
Look! I silently shout. Look at me.

She wears a cross around her neck,
and I a Jewish star.
We discuss antisemitism and she glances at me furtively.

What is she expecting?
Should I raise my voice forcefully
and proclaim my undying faith?

In my heart I know it,
on my neck I show it,
must I say it?


We discuss the passages in the book.
The "white Jew" is a paradox, it says.
The kids were wrong to pick on the Jew, I state.

The one with the cross, she smiles
in that way that says she thinks your wrong.
"What about the Jew who yelled at the little girl, she just wanted to buy a pickle".

I stand firm.
Antisemitism was rampant,
the Jews merely reacted to the abuse they received.

She shakes her head,
tries to find the words to say
the Jews were doing the "opposite of antisemitism".

I wonder if that's true.
But they are my people
and I will always side with them.

The word Jew comes up many times,
I feel eyes on me
as I finger my star.

I don't know quite what I am expected to say,
I don't feel like saying much at all
in response to their stares.

I'm not insulted,
this is merely a conversation
in a classroom.

I was brought up as a "white Jew" as they say,
and I was lucky not to feel the cruel arm
of antisemitism.

I am proud to be a Jew
to be the example that they can stare at
as we discuss literature culture and diversity.

I sit silently,
nodding my head as the discussion goes on,
and let the star do the talking.