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Letty Cottin Pogrebin wants Jews to own up to the corrosive power of shame
(JTA) — When a lawyer for Donald Trump asked E. Jean Carroll why she didn’t scream while allegedly being raped by Donald Trump, I thought of Letty Cottin Pogrebin. In her latest book, “Shanda: A Memoir of Shame and Secrecy,” she writes about being assaulted by a famous poet — and how the shadow of shame kept women like her silent about attacks on their own bodies.
That incident in 1962, she writes, was “fifty-eight years before the #MeToo movement provided the sisterhood and solidarity that made survivors of abuse and rape feel safe enough to tell their stories.”
Now 83, Pogrebin could have coasted with a memoir celebrating her six decades as a leading feminist: She co-founded Ms. magazine, its Foundation for Women and the National Women’s Political Caucus. She served as president of Americans for Peace Now and in 1982 blew the whistle on antisemitism in the feminist movement.
Instead, “Shanda” is about her immigrant Jewish family and the secrets they carried through their lives. First marriages that were kept hidden. An unacknowledged half-sister. Money problems and domestic abuse. An uncle banished for sharing family dirt in public.
“My mania around secrecy and shame was sparked in 1951 by the discovery that my parents had concealed from me the truth about their personal histories, and every member of my large extended family, on both sides, was in on it,” writes Pogrebin, now 83. “Their need to avoid scandal was so compelling that, once identified, it provided the lens through which I could see my family with fresh eyes, spotlight their fears, and, in so doing, illuminate my own.”
“Shanda” (the Yiddish word describes the kind of behavior that brings shame on an entire family or even a people) is also a portrait of immigrant New York Jews in the 20th century. As her father and mother father move up in the world and leave their Yiddish-speaking, Old World families behind for new lives in the Bronx and Queens, they stand in for a generation of Jews and new Americans “bent on saving face and determined to be, if not exemplary, at least impeccably respectable.”
Pogrebin and I spoke last week ahead of the Eight Over Eighty Gala on May 31, where she will be honored with a group that includes another Jewish feminist icon, the writer Erica Jong, and musician Eve Queler, who founded her own ensemble, the Opera Orchestra of New York, when she wasn’t being given chances to conduct in the male-dominated world of classical music. The gala is a fundraiser for the New Jewish Home, a healthcare nonprofit serving older New Yorkers.
Pogrebin and I spoke about shame and how it plays out in public and private, from rape accusations against a former president to her regrets over how she wrote about her own abortions to how the Bible justifies family trickery.
Our conversation was edited for length and clarity.
I found your book very moving because my parents’ generation, who like your family were middle-class Jews who grew up or lived in the New York metropolitan area, are also all gone now. Your book brought back to me that world of aunts and uncles and cousins, and kids like us who couldn’t imagine what kinds of secrets and traumas our parents and relatives were hiding. But you went back and asked all the questions that many of us are afraid to ask.
I can’t tell you how good writing it has been. I feel as though I have no weight on my back. And people who have read it gained such comfort from the normalization that happens when you read that others have been through what you’ve been through. And my family secrets are so varied — just one right after the other. The chameleon-like behavior of that generation — they became who they wanted to be through pretense or actual accomplishment.
In my mother’s case, pretense led the way. She went and got a studio photo that made it look like she graduated from high school when she didn’t. In the eighth grade, she went up to her uncle’s house in the north Bronx and had her dates pick her up there because of the shanda of where she lived on the Lower East Side with nine people in three rooms. She had to imagine herself the child of her uncle, who didn’t have an accent or had an accent but at least spoke English.
You describe yours as “an immigrant family torn between loyalty to their own kind and longing for American acceptance.”
There was the feeling that, “If only we could measure up, we would be real Americans.” My mother was a sewing machine operator who became a designer and figured out what American women wore when she came from rags and cardboard shoes, in steerage. So I admire them. As much as I was discomforted by the lies, I ended up having compassion for them.
It’s also a story of thwarted women, and all that lost potential of a generation in which few could contemplate a college degree or a career outside the home. Your mother worked for a time as a junior designer for Hattie Carnegie, a sort of Donna Karan of her day, but abandoned that after she met your dad and became, as you write, “Mrs. Jack Cottin.”
The powerlessness of women was complicated in the 1950s by the demands of the masculine Jewish ideal. So having a wife who didn’t work was proof that you were a man who could provide. As a result women sacrificed their own aspirations and passions. She protected her husband’s image by not pursuing her life outside the home. In a way my feminism is a positive, like a photograph, to the negative of my mother’s 1950s womanhood.
“I’m not an optimist. I call myself a ‘cockeyed strategist,” said Pogrebin, who has a home on the Upper West Side. (Mike Lovett)
You write that you “think of shame and secrecy as quintessentially Jewish issues.” What were the Jewish pressures that inspired your parents to tell so many stories that weren’t true?
Think about what we did. We hid behind our names. We changed our names. We sloughed off our accents. My mother learned to make My*T*Fine pudding instead of gefilte fish. Shame and secrecy have always been intrinsically Jewish to me, because of the “sha!” factor: At every supper party, there would be the moment when somebody would say, “Sha! We don’t talk about that!” So even though we talked about what felt like everything, there were things that couldn’t be touched: illness, the C-word [cancer]. If you wanted to make a shidduch [wedding match] with another family in the insular communities in which Jews lived, you couldn’t let it be known that there was cancer in the family, or mental illness.
While I was writing this memoir, I realized that the [Torah portion] I’m listening to one Shabbat morning is all about hiding. It is Jacob finding out that he didn’t marry Rachel, after all, but married somebody he didn’t love. All of the hiding that I took for granted in the Bible stories and I was raised on like mother’s milk was formative. They justified pretense, and they justified trickery. Rebecca lied to her husband and presented her younger son Jacob for the blessing because God told her, because it was for the greater good of the future the Jewish people.
I think Jews felt that same sort of way when it came to surviving. So we can get rid of our names. We wouldn’t have survived, whether we were hiding in a forest or behind a cabinet, a name or a passport, or [pushed into hiding] with [forced] conversions. Hiding was survival.
I was reading your book just as the E. Jean Carroll verdict came down, holding Donald Trump liable for sexually assaulting her during an encounter in the mid-’90s. You write how in 1962, when you were working as a book publicist, the hard-drinking Irish poet Brendan Behan (who died in 1964) tried to rape you in a hotel room and you didn’t report it. Like Carroll, you didn’t think that it was something that could be reported because the cost was too high.
Certainly in that era powerful men could get away with horrible behavior because of shanda reasons.
Carroll said in her court testimony, “It was shameful to go to the police.”
You know that it happened to so many others and nobody paid the price. The man’s reputation was intact and we kept our jobs because we sacrificed our dignity and our truth. I was in a career, and I really was supporting myself. I couldn’t afford to lose my job. I would have been pilloried for having gone to his hotel room, and nobody was there when he picked up an ashtray and threatened to break the window of the Chelsea Hotel unless I went up there with him.The cards were stacked against me.
In “Shanda,” you write about another kind of shame: The shame you now feel decades later about how you described the incident in your first book. You regret “how blithely I transformed an aggravated assault by a powerful man into a ‘sticky sexual encounter.’”
I wrote about the incident in such offhand terms, and wonder why. I wrote, basically, “Okay, girls, you’re gonna have to put up with this, but you’re gonna have to find your own magical sentence like I had with Behan” to get him to stop.
You write that you said, “You can’t do this to me! I’m a nice Jewish girl!” And that got him to back off.
Really painful.
I think that’s a powerful aspect of your book — how you look back at the ways you let down the movement or your family or friends and now regret. In 1991 you wrote a New York Times essay about an illegal abortion you had as a college senior in 1958, but not the second one you had only a few months later. While you were urging women to tell their stories of abortion, you note how a different shame kept you from telling the whole truth.
Jewish girls could be, you know, plain or ordinary, but they had to be smart, and I had been stupid. I could out myself as one of the many millions of women who had an abortion but not as a Jewish girl who made the same mistake [of getting pregnant] twice.
The book was written before the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade. In the book you write powerfully about the shame, danger and loneliness among women when abortion was illegal, and now, after 50 years, it is happening again. Having been very much part of the generation of activists that saw Roe become the law of the land, how have you processed its demise?
Since the 1970s, we thought everything was happening in this proper linear way. We got legislation passed, we had litigation and we won, and we saw the percentage of women’s participation in the workplace all across professions and trades and everything else rise and rise. And then Ronald Reagan was elected and then there was the Moral Majority and then it was the Hyde Amendment [barring the use of federal funds to pay for abortion]. I was sideswiped because I think I was naive enough to imagine that once we articulated what feminism was driving at and why women’s rights were important, and how the economic reality of families and discrimination against women weren’t just women’s issues, people would internalize it and understand it and justice would be done.
In the case of Roe, we could not imagine that rights could ever be taken away. We didn’t do something that we should have done, which is to have outed ourselves in a big way. It’s not enough that abortion was legal. We allowed it to remain stigmatized. We allowed the right wing to create their own valence around it. That negated solidarity. If we had talked about abortion as healthcare, if we had had our stories published and created organizations around remembering what it was like and people telling their stories about when abortion was illegal and dangerous…. Instead we allowed the religious right to prioritize [fetal] cells over a woman’s life. We just were not truthful with each other, so we didn’t create solidarity.
Are you heartened by the backlash against restrictive new laws in red states or optimistic that the next wave of activism can reclaim the right to abortion?
I’m not an optimist. I call myself a “cockeyed strategist.” If you look at my long resume, it is all about organizing: Ms. magazine, feminist organizations, women’s foundations, Black-Jewish dialogues, Torah study groups and Palestinian-Jewish dialogues.
Number one, we have to own the data and reframe the narrative. We have to open channels for discussion for women who have either had one or know someone who has had one, even in religious Catholic families. The state-by-state strategy was really slow, but Ruth Bader Ginsburg wanted that. She almost didn’t get on the court because she didn’t like the nationwide, right-to-privacy strategy of Roe but instead wanted it won state by state, which would have required campaigns of acceptance and consciousness-raising.
So, the irony is she hasn’t lived to see that we’re going to have to do it her way.
You share a lot of family secrets in this book. Is this a book that you waited to write until, I’ll try to put this gently, most of the people had died?
I started this book when I was 78 years old, and there’s always a connection to my major birthdays. And turning 80 – you experience that number and it is so weird. It doesn’t describe me and it probably won’t describe you. I thought, this could well be my last book, so I needed to be completely transparent, put it all out there.
My mother and father and aunts and uncles were gone, but I have 24 cousins altogether. I went to my cousins, and told them I am going to write about the secret of your parents: It’s my uncle, but it’s your father. It’s your family story even though it’s my family, but it’s yours first. And every cousin, uniformly, said, “Are you kidding? You don’t even know the half of it,” and they’d tell me the whole story. I guess people want the truth out in the end.
Is that an aspect of getting older?
I think it’s a promise of liberation, which is what I have found. It’s this experience of being free from anything that I’ve hid. I don’t have to hide. Years ago, on our 35th wedding anniversary, we took our whole family to the Tenement Museum because we wanted them to see how far we’ve come in two generations.
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The post Letty Cottin Pogrebin wants Jews to own up to the corrosive power of shame appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Jewish Americans Shouldn’t Be Shocked by Scott Wiener’s Genocide Lie
California State Sen. Scott Wiener. Photo: Screenshot
At first glance, California State Sen. and Democratic candidate for US Congress Scott Wiener is representative of what many consider a genuine American Jewish success story: a Jewish boy from New Jersey whose childhood memories were shaped by parents who helped build a local Conservative synagogue.
Wiener possesses the boy-next-door charm and familiarity of a Jewish American who came of age in the 1980s and early 1990s, was academically gifted, and later graduated from Harvard Law School.
The budding lawmaker soon found his footing in politics and eventually rose to become a state senator in the nation’s most populous state.
The youthful-looking Wiener, who calls himself “one of the strongest LGBTQ civil rights champions in the nation,” also co-chairs the California Legislative Jewish Caucus.
The one critical wrinkle to Wiener’s path to Jewish political prominence is that the 55-year-old politician recently promoted the disgusting blood libel that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza.
After enduring jeers from left-wing attendees at last week’s candidate debate featuring Wiener and two other Democrats vying to succeed retiring Congresswoman Nancy Pelosi (D-CA), Wiener pivoted from his initial refusal to characterize Israel’s actions as genocide and made the decision, days later, to turn against the Jewish state in a 90-second cringe-inducing video unveiled Sunday on the social media platform X.
For those following evolving attitudes toward Israel within liberal Jewish spaces, where Zionism is increasingly disassociated from Judaism, Wiener’s comments condemning Israel are perhaps the least shocking development in the progressive Democrat’s political career.
Jewish communities across America have spent decades nurturing ideological identities that focused on cultivating loyal liberals rather than strong Jews.
Moreover, when support for Israel is passed down from one generation to the next, with little explanation of the moral, legal, and historical rights undergirding the Jewish people’s right for self-determination, Zionism is treated as another dispensable political movement.
It’s a phenomenon that leaves people like Wiener susceptible to the anti-Israel animus entrapping a rising cohort of Jewish Democrats. It’s why anti-Zionists like New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani will be quick to denounce a swastika plastered at a Jewish school in Brooklyn but grant a pass to violent pro-Hamas mobs descending on New York City synagogues that aim to disrupt Israel-related events.
Absent a firm framework explaining why it is a Jewish imperative to advance a pro-Israel narrative, the strategy to widen the wedge between Zionism and one’s Jewish identity will yield more Jews like Wiener who cave to the whims of keffiyeh-wearing voters.
Wiener is not alone.
In New York, 25-year-old Jewish progressive Cameron Kasky was, until this week, running for Congress in the state’s 12th district and recently returned from a Palestinian-led trip to Israel.
In a nod to his deep hatred of the Jewish state, Kasky, who grew up in South Florida attending Hebrew School, lists “Stop Funding Genocide” as his first policy priority on his website.
It was only 10 years ago when such overt antisemitic positions would have earned a candidate a place on the political sidelines.
Since then, the landscape has changed dramatically. A Washington Post Jewish Americans poll conducted in September revealed that the distorted views espoused by Israel’s detractors in the diaspora align with a significant portion of American Jewry.
In the study, 61 percent of American Jews responded that they believe Israel is committing war crimes against Palestinians in Gaza, with nearly 40 percent accusing the Jewish state of “genocide.”
The troubling spike in anti-Israel attitudes among American Jews became more conspicuous over the last several years, as social justice movements surrounding climate change, the women’s march movement, and George Floyd gave Jews who harbor little interest in following the traditional tenets of Judaism an avenue through which to wield their cultural Judaism.
In an effort to keep sanctuaries full and congregants satisfied, non-orthodox institutions coalesced around cultural issues that accelerated a liberal and increasingly secularized world order.
Ammiel Hirsch, senior rabbi of Manhattan’s Stephen Wise Free Synagogue, has repeatedly demanded that Jewish leaders meet the “historical demands of our time” and is among several leaders calling for a course correction within the Reform movement.
Still, since Wiener has now planted himself on the side of the Democrats’ anti-Israel faction, the Jewish organizations Wiener was so eager to frequent as a guest speaker in the past released a joint statement that was charitable in their repudiation of the candidate’s use of the term “genocide.”
The truth is that Wiener has long fashioned himself a progressive who rarely shies from admonishing Israel.
His regurgitation of the genocide lie reflects less of a shift and more of a sharpening of previous statements where he publicly charged Israel’s government with deliberately starving Palestin
Wiener also has a history of treating Hamas and Israel as “moral equivalents” and has gone on record saying that he will not accept donations from the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC).
Put simply, it was obvious long ago that Wiener would not emerge as the Democrats’ next John Fetterman, a US senator from Pennsylvania who, amid criticism from his own party, has remained a steadfast supporter of Israel.
The seeds of Wiener’s disgraceful break with the Jewish state were planted long ago.
Raised with a scant appreciation or understanding on the importance of a Jewish homeland, the state senator fell under a secularized umbrella of “universal human rights.”
Sadly, his views on Israel are symbolic of what constitutes the path to political success in today’s Jewish Democratic Party orbit.
Irit Tratt is a writer, an American and pro-Israel advocate. Follow her on X @Irit_Tratt.
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Iranian Regime’s Deadly Crackdown Quells Protests, Residents and Rights Group Say
Iranian demonstrators gather in a street during anti-regime protests in Tehran, Iran, Jan. 8, 2026. Photo: Stringer/WANA (West Asia News Agency) via REUTERS
Iran‘s deadly crackdown appears to have broadly quelled protests for now, according to a rights group and residents, as state media reported more arrests on Friday in the shadow of repeated US threats to intervene if the killing continues.
The prospect of a US attack has retreated since Wednesday, when President Donald Trump said he’d been told killings in Iran were easing, but more US military assets were expected to arrive in the region, showing the continued tensions.
US allies, including Saudi Arabia and Qatar, conducted intense diplomacy with Washington this week to prevent a US strike, warning of repercussions for the wider region that would ultimately impact the United States, a Gulf official said.
Israel’s intelligence chief David Barnea was also in the US on Friday for talks on Iran, according to a source familiar with the matter, and an Israeli military official said the country’s forces were on “peak readiness.”
The White House said on Thursday that Trump and his team have warned Tehran there would be “grave consequences” if there was further bloodshed and added that the president was keeping “all of his options on the table.”
The protests erupted on Dec. 28 over economic hardship and swelled into widespread demonstrations calling for the end of clerical rule, which culminated in three days of mass violence at the end of last week.
According to opposition groups and an Iranian official, more than 2,000 people were killed in the worst domestic unrest since Iran‘s 1979 Islamic Revolution. Some media reports have said the death toll was as high as 12,000-20,000, with thousands of additional demonstrators arrested.
But several residents of Tehran reached by Reuters said the capital had now been comparatively quiet for four days. Drones were flying over the city, but there had been no sign of major protests on Thursday or Friday. Another resident in a northern city on the Caspian Sea said the streets there also appeared calm. The residents declined to be identified for their safety.
As an internet blackout eased this week, more accounts of the violence have trickled out.
One woman in Tehran told Reuters by phone that her daughter was killed a week ago after joining a demonstration near their home.
“She was 15 years old. She was not a terrorist, not a rioter. Basij forces followed her as she was trying to return home,” she said, referring to a branch of the security forces often used to quell unrest.
The US is expected to send additional offensive and defensive capabilities to the region, but the exact makeup of those forces and the timing of their arrival was still unclear, a US official said speaking on condition of anonymity.
The US military’s Central Command declined to comment, saying it does not discuss ship movements.
PAHLAVI CALLS FOR INCREASED PRESSURE
Reza Pahlavi, the US-based son of Iran‘s last shah who has gained increasing prominence as an opposition figure, on Friday urged the international community to ramp up pressure on Tehran to help protesters overthrow clerical rule.
“The Iranian people are taking decisive action on the ground. It is now time for the international community to join them fully,” said Pahlavi, whose level of support inside Iran is hard to gauge.
Trump this week appeared to downplay the idea of US backing for Pahlavi, voicing uncertainty that the exiled royal heir who has courted support among Western countries could muster significant backing inside Iran. Pahlavi met US envoy Steve Witkoff last weekend, Axios reported.
Iranian-Kurdish rights group Hengaw said that there had been no protest gatherings since Sunday, but “the security environment remains highly restrictive.”
“Our independent sources confirm a heavy military and security presence in cities and towns where protests previously took place, as well as in several locations that did not experience major demonstrations,” Norway-based Hengaw said in comments to Reuters.
REPORTS OF SPORADIC UNREST
There were, however, still indications of unrest in some areas. Hengaw reported that a female nurse was killed by direct gunfire from government forces during protests in Karaj, west of Tehran. Reuters was not able to independently verify the report.
The state-affiliated Tasnim news outlet reported that rioters had set fire to a local education office in Falavarjan County, in central Isfahan Province, on Thursday.
An elderly resident of a town in Iran‘s northwestern region, where many Kurdish Iranians live and which has been the focus for many of the biggest flare-ups, said sporadic protests had continued, though not as intensely.
Describing violence earlier in the protests, she said: “I have not seen scenes like that before.”
Video circulating online, which Reuters was able to verify as having been recorded in a forensic medical center in Tehran, showed dozens of bodies lying on floors and stretchers, most in bags but some uncovered. Reuters could not verify the date of the video.
The state-owned Press TV cited Iran‘s police chief as saying calm had been restored across the country.
A death toll reported by US-based rights group HRANA has increased little since Wednesday, now at 2,677 people, including 2,478 protesters and 163 people identified as affiliated with the government.
Reuters has not been able to independently verify the HRANA death toll. An Iranian official told the news agency earlier this week that about 2,000 people had been killed.
The casualty numbers dwarf the death toll from previous bouts of unrest that have been suppressed by the state, including in 2009 and 2022.
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The Department of Labor told us to embrace ‘Americanism.’ What’s that?
“Embrace Americanism,” reads a graphic shared by the U.S. Department of Labor on X, featuring a photo of George Washington’s bust on Mt. Rushmore. “America is for Americans,” the accompanying post says.
What, exactly, is Americanism? Though it may sound like a made-up term that Donald Trump might sling in his speeches off the cuff, in fact it has been around for at least two centuries, since the early days of the U.S.
Yet its definition has never been clear. While the word connotes some ideology of adherence to American values, a unified culture or an idealized vision of the nation, the exact vision of what that set of values or culture is remains so vague that the term has been used by Theodore Roosevelt, the American Communist Party and the Ku Klux Klan.
Early American figures, including John Adams, simply used Americanism to mean a belief in a new republic defined by Democratic ideals and freedom of religion, a commitment to the culture of America. But that culture had not yet been defined — was it white and Christian, or was it a diverse melting pot?
Since its first use, the term has been claimed most often by the KKK. A 1926 paper by Klan Imperial Emperor and Wizard Hiram Wesley Evans, published in The North American Review, is titled “The Klan’s Fight for Americanism.” In it, Evans says that the KKK arose as an answer to an influx of “aliens and alien ideas” in the country — namely that of Jews, Catholics and Black people.
Evans does not define the Americanism he’s fighting for. But he’s clear about what it isn’t. He praises the Klan’s work fighting “radicalism, cosmopolitanism, and alienism of all kinds” — “rootless cosmopolitanism” being a pejorative regularly levied at Jews — and says that “racial instincts” are essential to preserving Americanism.
Those racial instincts are necessary, Evan writes, because anyone who is not an “old-stock American” of “Nordic blend” is fundamentally incapable of understanding or upholding Americanism. (The article largely avoids the term “white” to exclude groups like Eastern and Southern Europeans, as well as Jews and Catholics, who today we might consider white.)
The 1920s were a time of great debate over Americanism, but the term has largely fallen out of use in the modern day. So is this the Americanism the Department of Labor is telling people to embrace one that excludes Jews, Black people, Asians, Catholics and anyone who isn’t a white Protestant — is it a dog whistle for the nativist, KKK ideology that defined the term when it was last popular? The DOL did not respond to a request for comment in time for publication, so we can’t know how the government came to adopt the word. But without specifying which Americanism they mean, it will be easy for white nationalists to see a post from the government using a term with a long racist history, and feel emboldened.
Still, maybe the values of Americanism they meant are something new entirely, synonymous with the Trump administration’s fight against trans people and DEI, or perhaps a simple declaration of patriotism.
Or maybe the DOL used Americanism in the sense that Earl Browder, president of the American Communist party in the 1900s, did when he attempted to reclaim the term and proclaimed that “Communism is 20th century Americanism.”
Probably not, though.
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