Yesterday I met with a friend who is a child of Holocaust survivors.
“We were brought up to be ashamed of being Jewish,” she said. “We grew up feeling there was something deficient about us. This is why just now when you asked me if I were Jewish I flinched and looked around to see if anybody was hearing us. I know on a logical level that there is nothing to fear or be ashamed of but this feeling goes too deep for logic.”
“I know,” I said. “I felt the same, my father felt the same when he was growing up, everybody did. It took me a long time to get rid of this feeling and not to flinch whenever anybody said the word ‘Jew.’”

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