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Think Yiddish

To some, Yiddish may seem like an outdated, impractical language that died in the Holocaust. But while the Holocaust (among other mid-20th century events and trends) certainly reduced the number of native Yiddish speakers, the language is still a thriving vernacular in religious Jewish communities. Furthermore, Yiddish has seen a revival over the past 30 years among less religious Jews and in academic circles. An increasing number of academics interested in Jewish history, early 20th century American history and Eastern European history are learning Yiddish in order to read primary sources. Anthropologists interested in studying religious Jewish communities are also learning Yiddish. Many prestigious universities offer the language, including Harvard; Columbia; Penn; University of Michigan; University of California, Berkeley; and Stanford. The Ohio State University even offers a Ph.D. in Yiddish.

For me, Yiddish carries a personal importance. I have spent the better part of the past three summers learning Yiddish language, culture and history in intensive semi-immersion programs in New York City, Amherst, Mass., and Vilnius, Lithuania. Through these programs I have formed a deeper connection to my Jewish heritage and a stronger self-identity. But I have also seen how these programs have been meaningful to my fellow non-Jewish peers. Learning Yiddish opens up a rich and diverse literature, ranging from folktales and Hasidic parables to modern impressionistic, expressionistic, futuristic, surrealistic and feminist poetry. It also provides an alternative view of European history from the dominant Christian perspective normally presented in history, politics, art history and music classes. Yiddish is, historically and currently, a language of marginalization and a language built by a balancing act of both Jewish and gentile influence (most visibly seen through the Hebraic and Germanic components of the language). Thus, a knowledge of Yiddish language, literature and culture reveals a mindset and worldview foreign to many, Jews and non-Jews alike. Eastern European Jewish history often prioritizes different events than those focused on in general European history. But Yiddish language and culture also sheds new light on common themes such as sexual politics and on events such as the Protestant Reformation and the publication of Charles Darwin’s “On the Origin of Species.”

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A Princeton education will hopefully help prepare us for our careers. And indeed Yiddish classes can fulfill that goal for those interested in academic careers focused on Yiddish literature, Ashkenazi history and culture, early 20th century socialism, ethnography or anthropology. But ideally a Princeton education is more than vocational training. It should increase our awareness of other cultures and perspectives, providing many ways to look at the world — scientific, humanistic, artistic, secular, religious. By learning a diverse range of disciplines and looking at the world from different angles, we can understand it better. In this aim, too, Yiddish can be helpful.

Last year I started a weekly Yiddish Conversation Table. Though no Yiddish language courses are offered at Princeton, several Yiddish-speaking students became regulars at the table. More striking were all the students who approached me wishing they could participate in the table but who didn’t know the language. It would be a simple task for the University to hire a Yiddish instructor —  who could be housed in either the Program in Judaic Studies or the German department — so that these students could learn a language that is beautiful in itself, provides ample research opportunities, and opens the door to a rich literary tradition and an alternative worldview.

Miriam Geronimus is a junior from Ann Arbor, Mich. She can be reached at mgeronim@princeton.edu.

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