![](/sites/default/files/styles/large_landscape/public/images/Harriet%20Shenkman.png)
This piece is part of our Witnessing series, which shares pieces from Israeli authors and authors in Israel, as well as the experiences of Jewish writers around the globe in the aftermath of October 7th.
It is critical to understand history not just through the books that will be written later, but also through the first-hand testimonies and real-time accounting of events as they occur. At Jewish Book Council, we understand the value of these written testimonials and of sharing these individual experiences. It’s more important now than ever to give space to these voices and narratives.
In collaboration with the Jewish Book Council, JBI is recording writers’ first-hand accounts, as shared with and published by JBC, to increase the accessibility of these accounts for individuals who are blind, have low vision or are print disabled.
April, 2024
I believed I was as American as Apple Pie,
loyal to the Yankees and in awe of
Benjamin Franklin, his lightening rod, his fight
for Independence,
On good days, the shtetl would rise in me with pride.
My mother born west of Kiev, father from another town
where roosters roamed the dirt roads.
Her sisters were let to a pit outside of town,
their Ukranian neighbor a new owner of the family candlesticks.
My father boarded a ship
to escape hunger and pogroms. In this country.
he stood awed
by a table spread with food.
He flew to celebrate the birth of his grandson,
born at an American university. Years later, hovered over
his graduation, lux et veritas in tiny print,
Nathan Hale, class of 1773.
Education our deliverance out of Egypt, our
escape from bondage.
Passover brought out the shtetl in me. I loved
helzel, the stuffed neck of a chicken my mother made,
the singing of Dayenu. It was enough, we believed.
We’d wandered in the desert for forty years
for a reason.
This year an alarm rings loud and clear.
Students at universities spew venom
from the river to the sea,
the ringing in our ears shrill, the trail of suffering real.
We are who we did not think we were anymore,
damn Jews.
The views and opinions expressed above are those of the author, based on their observations and experiences.
Support the work of Jewish Book Council and become a member today.
Harriet Shenkman was the Poet-in-Residence at the JCC of Mid Westchester. She earned a Ph.D. from Fordham University and is a professor emerita at City University of New York. Her poetry awards include the Women’s National Book Association Annual Writing Contest in Poetry and the Women Who Write International Poetry and Short Prose Contest. Her poetry appeared or will appear in Union, the Raynes Poetry Competition Anthology, Evening Street Review, Third Wednesday, Jewish Currents, Jewish Magazine, Westchester Review. Oyez Review, The Alexandria Quarterly, Comstock Review, The Berru Poetry Series, Yetzirah, The Marbled Sigh, and in two chapbooks, Teetering and The Present Abandoned. Her new poetry collection, Wonder Wheel, is available from Barnes and Noble and Amazon.