If they ask if you're a Jew, say no

As early as I can remember, my mother would tell us:

If they ask if you're a Jew, say no.
If they ask if your mother's a Jew, say no.
Say you have papers.
Say you can prove it.
We had you baptized.
They'll think you're a Christian.
When the holocaust comes, you'll be spared.

When the holocaust came, we'd have a bomb shelter. When the holocaust came, we'd have guns. My father had built the bomb shelter into the bank behind our house, hidden guns in the walls.

When I heard the OyBaby singing, I felt a familiar quivering. "They sound like Akropolis," I thought. And then, "Akropolis sounds Jewish." And with that, a HUGE wave of realization -- that most of my theatre heritage comes out of Poland and Russia, out of Jewish directors. Me and my mentors -- we ALL think the holocaust's coming. Or perhaps they've transcended this, but it's all over our work.

So when I watched the babies in yarmulkes on the OyBaby video, part of me was horrified. "What will they do when the holocaust comes?" I thought.

Rob had words of peace and comfort.

Today, an old German man asked, "Are you of the Jewish persuasion?" For the first time in my life, I nodded. "You know, the Holocaust never happened," he said matter-of-factly. "That is just a story." He began to tell me of the Jews he had known after he left Germany, when he lived in LA. Surreal. I felt as invisible as always. But more accountable.