Posts Tagged ‘ non-Jews ’

Children laughing, a baby’s muffled cry, the peaceful sounds of a Saturday afternoon, drift through the open window. This is New York – one of the liveliest, most turbulent cities in the world…

This weekend I read a book called Fiedler on the Roof, a collection of essays about literature and Jewish identity by Leslie Fiedler. I received this book from a cyber-friend who, unaware that…

If you are on Main St. in Flushing on a school day at 5 o’clock, you will see us. Running across the crowded Main street as fast as we can, our mid-calf…

My name is Moishe: Male, Caucasian, age 26, five feet seven, circumcised, brown eyes, brown hair with a few strands of white. The guys call me Mo; often times Fat Mo, for the…

In response to the complaints about the pervasive negativity, real or perceived, of the Chasidic way of life by writers on this site, I have decided to write a short piece showing the…

I have to be at work early today. Niko has to load his truck at eight and Mr. V. won’t trust a goy with the keys. Sometimes I wish he wouldn’t trust me either.…

I enter our apartment. It’s noisy as hell, the same noises every evening. Koiles ivrukim. Children squabbling, Breindy yelling, the vacuum cleaner roaring, kids making milkshakes in the blender and spilling half of it…

At first all we did was hang out with our own. Fellow Chasidim on the fringe, men only. We didn’t know many women, and those we did know weren’t like us at all. With…

“He’s not coming,” I said, and threw my finished cigarette on the ground. I moved my shoe over the remnants of the butt, about to be extinguished by my ballet flat. I took a…

As a teenager I read an article in Cosmo about how guys with stubble like the red they can bring to a woman’s cheeks during kissing: It’s a she’s-so-tender-I’m-so-tough type of thing. The first time I saw a Chasid, his beard looked vaguely terrifying. I’ve always hated beards, macho like my Dad’s, like Hulk...
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