A Goy Named Joel

Posted on February 18, 2010 in Hatred

He said: “Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn’t blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya eye
Cause I’m the son-of-a-bitch that named you “Sue.'”

The dragon-scaled back ring of the telephone invited one of my dorm mates into the hall. He then knocked on my door and I began the conversation. The rabbi for the Claremont Colleges had seen my name in the Pomona College directory and wondered why I hadn’t been coming to synagogue. I chuckled slightly and said “Well, it’s because I’m not Jewish. I was raised Roman Catholic.” He took it in good stride, said a few jovial words, and let me go back to my homework. It made for an interesting anecdote for sharing around the dinner table in the days to come.

A couple of weeks ago on Facebook, someone saw my name in a political discussion and began excoriating me for Israel’s treatment of the Palestinians. I told the miscreant that he had no clue who I was and what I was about and left it there. It was only after a week of letting the incident mellow inside a fold of my brain that I realized that he’d made the same mistake that the rabbi had made: Joel Sax had to be Jewish.

When accused of it now, I tend to answer the taunt as Charlie Chaplin once did: “I don’t have the honor.” In my life, I have also been accused of being gay. My wife can confirm that I am not. A different tale deserves to be remarked upon here: once in my freshman year, I went to the school counseling center after hours because I was fringing on suicidiality. I happened to walk in on a meeting of the Gay Student Association. A young man pulled me aside and listened to me — without trying to seduce me or win me over to the cause ((so there, homophobes)) . That little piece of kindness mattered a lot to me then and I also recalled how it felt to be hounded for being gay even though I was not.

I’ve come to the conclusion that to be the object of hatreds for which I am undeserving has given me a unique insight into the pointlessness of racism, antisemitism, homophobia, etc. All that venom arises for no good reason at all as far as i can see. Perhaps it is an experience that more people need to go through. It’s easy to be outraged for being hated for the things that we can be rightly classed at, but you don’t get the absurdity of it as it affects others until you have been hated for that which you are not. I think most Americans live pleasant little lives in which they are never challenged by finding themselves outside their group of comfort. I see myself as having been blessed or lucky. All this experience has made me more compassionate and strong. Dare I pity those who have no clue?