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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.
—
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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Why J Street’s New Policy Initiative Is Seriously Misguided
Israel’s Iron Dome anti-missile system intercepts rockets, as seen from Ashkelon, Israel, Oct. 1, 2024. Photo: REUTERS/Amir Cohen
We live in a time when synagogues and Jewish-sponsored events are under violent attack from London to Bondi Beach, to Temple Israel in Michigan.
At such a moment, efforts by J Street to see US military aid to Israel stopped are not just misguided; they are profoundly irresponsible.
On April 13, J Street posted a statement on its website titled, “Reassessing the US-Israel Security Relationship.”
J Street said, “The United States should phase out direct financial support for arms sales to Israel and treat Israel as it does other wealthy US allies.”
J Street did say (at the end of the statement) that, “The United States should continue to sell short-range air and ballistic missile defense (BMD) capabilities to Israel.”
But is that part just a way for them to play both sides if they need to? Otherwise, why make this charge (at the beginning of the statement): “Section 502B of the Foreign Assistance Act prohibits security assistance to any country whose government engages in a consistent pattern of gross violations of internationally recognized human rights.”
Also alarming is how J Street deliberately misrepresents the positions of people who want to end direct military aid to Israel: “A responsible and relatively rapid phase-out of all financial assistance, including for ballistic missile defense, is now supported by figures from across the political spectrum, such as Prime Minister Netanyahu, Senator Lindsey Graham …”
However, neither Netanyahu or Graham have made statements that fit J Street’s flawed approach and dishonest narrative.
The truth is that when interviewed by The Economist, Netanyahu stated, “I want to taper off the military within the next 10 years.” How can J Street say that “the next 10 years” is the same as “relatively rapid”?
And on January 9 on X , Graham tweeted the following: “The aid we have provided to Israel has been a great investment keeping the IDF strong, sharing technology, and making their military more capable – to the benefit of the United States.” Graham went further saying, “we need not wait ten years,” but nowhere did Graham say he was for ending all military assistance while Israel is at war.
You’ll often hear from J Street, and other critics of Israel, that American aid is a “blank check.” It isn’t. US military assistance to Israel is governed by agreements and legal frameworks that require much of that funding to be spent on American-made defense systems.
In practice, that means a significant share of the aid flows back into the US economy — supporting domestic manufacturing, defense jobs, and technological development. You can debate the policy. But calling it a blank check is simply inaccurate — and yet the phrase persists because it fits a far too often preferred anti-Israel narrative. And it’s very hard to believe that J Street does not understand this reality, even as it advances that framing.
There is a huge difference in the strategic relationship that America has with Israel than any of its other allies. Israel offers America military support, intelligence, and operational experience that is unparalleled. Yet J Street’s advocacy to curtail or condition aid ignores the depth and mutual benefit of that partnership, reducing a complex alliance to a one-sided transaction.
The Iron Dome and David’s Sling — key components of Israel’s multi-layered missile defense system — are battle-proven in real-world conditions. The United States has directly benefited from Israeli innovation in missile defense, counterterrorism, and battlefield medicine. No US ally in any corner of the world has contributed to America’s defense in such an immediate and practical way. And that should mean we debate aid to Israel differently than aid to allies who don’t give us those tangible benefits.
Efforts by J Street to target funding for these systems are not abstract policy debates; they would weaken tools that save civilian lives and inform US defense capabilities.
President Truman recognized the State of Israel on May 14, 1948, just minutes after Israel declared independence. Of course, this had something to do with the Holocaust. What’s more, the very fact that Israel is encircled by Iranian terrorist proxies that seek to destroy it, that so many nations refuse to even recognize its right to exist, and that Iran is struggling to preserve its nuclear program are all reasons that dictate that there is something inherently different about its situation compared to its neighbors. And that should be taken into account when debating and deciding on US policy.
This is not about silencing debate. It is about grounding that debate in facts, history, and the real-world consequences of policy choices. At a time of rising threats, weakening a proven alliance and undermining defensive systems like Iron Dome does not advance peace or security — it puts both at risk.
Positions like these help explain J Street’s limited support within the American Jewish community — and why its views must be scrutinized and challenged.
Moshe Phillips is national chairman of Americans For A Safe Israel, AFSI, (www.AFSI.org), a leading pro-Israel advocacy and education organization.
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A View From Campus: Universities Are Failing to Protect Debate While Claiming to Defend It
The administration building at the University of Manitoba. Photo: Wiki Commons.
Universities are meant to be spaces where ideas are debated and challenged, but they are also institutions that set the rules for how students participate.
That authority comes with responsibility — but in recent years, administrators have applied their standards unevenly, particularly when protests around Israel and the Palestinians turn disruptive.
Codes of conduct exist because universities believe behavior within their communities should be governed by certain standards. Universities rely on this principle across campus life, yet when protests cross into disruption or intimidation, they often fail to enforce it.
Faced with these realities, masked protesters have repeatedly violated codes of conduct without consequence — for instance, occupying and vandalizing Columbia’s Hamilton Hall in 2024, blocking Jewish students at Yale encampments, and chanting antisemitic slogans at Berkeley rallies. Meanwhile, in the United Kingdom, screenings documenting the October 7 attacks have required heavy police protection simply to proceed, reflecting an environment in which disruption is anticipated rather than prevented.
These incidents share a common thread: universities reacting to disorder instead of enforcing the baseline conditions that would allow events to occur without intimidation in the first place.
Protest itself is not the problem. The problem arises when demonstrations cross into disruption or intimidation, and institutions fail to enforce the basic rules that protect students and ensure equal access.
One clear example of this inconsistency is how universities handle anonymity during protests. On many campuses, protestors routinely wear masks or face coverings — even when directly engaging with others or disrupting organized events. In theory, anonymity can protect individuals from retaliation. In practice, it removes accountability.
Instead of taking responsibility and addressing the protesters’ behavior adequately, universities have often shifted the burden onto the students.
Jewish and pro-Israel groups are frequently required to coordinate security, accept police presence, or modify events simply to proceed. In some cases, programming continues under heavy supervision; in others, it is quietly scaled back, relocated, or cancelled entirely.
Events that should be educational experiences become exercises in risk management, with students navigating logistical hurdles and hostile crowds rather than engaging in meaningful dialogue.
I saw this firsthand at an event featuring former Israeli soldiers last year. Although the event was initially intended to be on campus, the threat of violence instigated by anti-Zionist protestors “convinced” the only University of Manitoba pro-Israel student group to move it away from the school.
This still didn’t stop around 50 protesters, many masked, from showing up at the new venue to harass and almost assault attendees. Thankfully, there was enough of a police presence to keep everyone safe.
Instead of demanding that certain events have armed guards, administrators should reflect on why some of their students need them in the first place just to voice their opinions. They should ask themselves what they have signaled, intentionally or not, about which behaviors will be tolerated and which will not.
Their inconsistent enforcement has clearly increased the likelihood of harm and discourages students from participating at all.
Universities need to shift their approach to responsibility, and concrete action is required.
Universities should publish clear protest guidelines that address anonymity, define disruption, and outline consequences that are consistently enforced, and then enforce them.
Security requirements should be transparent and scaled to the actual risk level of an event. When an event requires heightened security, violations of conduct aimed at disrupting or preventing it should carry proportionately stronger consequences. Disruptions and disciplinary outcomes should also be publicly reported to ensure accountability.
If universities want to be taken seriously as places of open inquiry, they need to do more than defend debate. They must protect the conditions that make debate possible. Right now, those conditions are eroding not because campuses lack authority, but because they have chosen not to use it when it matters most.
Police can only do so much; universities themselves have a responsibility to ensure that campus culture allows everyone to participate without fear of intimidation or interference.
Adam Katz is a 2025-2026 CAMERA on Campus fellow and a political science and history student at the University of Manitoba.
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PA Court Rules: Terrorists Must Get Pay-for-Slay Salaries — No Exceptions
A Palestinian Hamas terrorist shakes hands with a child as they stand guard as people gather on the day of the handover of Israeli hostages, as part of a ceasefire and a hostages-prisoners swap deal between Hamas and Israel, in Rafah in the southern Gaza Strip, Feb. 22, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Ramadan Abed
The Palestinian Authority (PA)’s Pay-for-Slay policy is now widely and publicly acknowledged.
PA officials have refused to say whether they will appeal a Palestinian court ruling earlier this week that ordered Pay-for-Slay to be resumed to a jailed terrorist who filed a lawsuit after it was suspended.
The ruling sets a legal precedent for the immediate resumption of salaries of 1,600 jailed terrorists who had them suspended last year even while salaries continued for thousands of other jailed terrorists, including through shifting the manner of payment, hidden means, or otherwise.
According to an article in the UK Arab news website Al-Araby Al-Jadeed, the Court found the PA’s Pay-for-Slay law is still in effect:
The Independent Commission for Human Rights (‘Public Complaints Commission’) [parentheses in source] in Palestine relied on the decision of the Ramallah Administrative Court, which was issued yesterday, Monday, [May 4, 2026,] in order to cancel the cessation of the salary payment of prisoner minor Ahmed Firas [PMW was unable to determine the details of his crimes -Ed.], …and with the aim of ending the salary crisis of approximately 1,600 prisoners [i.e., terrorists] whose salaries were stopped.
These salary payments were halted three months after Palestinian [PA] President Mahmoud Abbas issued a presidential decree, according to which the allowances of the Palestinian prisoners being paid by the PA were transferred to the Palestinian National Economic Empowerment Institution [PNEEI; refers to Abbas’ revision of “Pay-for-Slay,” see note below -Ed.]…
Yesterday, the Ramallah Administrative Court issued a decision to cancel the ‘implied decision’ of the [PA] minister of finance, according to which the salary of prisoner Ahmed Firas Hassan was stopped in mid-2025.
The Independent Commission [for Human Rights] filed a lawsuit to cancel this decision in August 2025. The Commission emphasizes that this is a precedent that can be relied upon to renew the salaries of more than 1,600 prisoners.
…
[ICHR] Legal Advisor Attorney Ahmed Nasra told [UK Arab news website] Al-Araby Al-Jadeed that the legal argument was based on how the decision to stop the salaries is illegal. According to him, the Basic Law obliges the State of Palestine to pay salaries to this sector, based on Article 22 of the amended Basic Law, which states: ‘The care for the families of the Martyrs and the prisoners, and the care for the wounded, injured, and disabled, is a duty whose provisions are regulated by law, and the [Palestinian] National Authority ensures for them educational services and health and social insurance.’ Additionally, the argument was also based on the Prisoners and Released [Prisoners] Law. The decision to stop the salaries was implemented without an official document indicating the decision, and therefore it was considered an ‘implied decision’ of the minister of finance, meaning an unwritten decision – a position that was adopted by the court that ruled accordingly. [emphasis added]
[Al-Araby Al-Jadeed, UK Arab news website, May 5, 2026]
The PA now refuses to say whether it will appeal the ruling, which is the only way the implementation of the ruling could be stopped, or even delayed:
“The newspaper Al-Araby Al-Jadeed tried to get a response from the Ministry of Finance but received no answer, and also approached the [PLO] Commission of Prisoners and Released [Prisoners’ Affairs] and the [PA-funded] Prisoners’ Club, but the heads of these bodies preferred not to respond.”
[Al-Araby Al-Jadeed, UK Arab news website, May 5, 2026]
It’s not apparent why this specific group of terrorists had seen their salaries suspended in the first place when most others didn’t. As Palestinian Media Watch has previously documented, Pay-for-Slay continues unabated for thousands of other jailed terrorists.
But what the PA court has done is exposed the con game that the PA has been doing to hide Pay-for-Slay from the eyes of Western countries since last year.
ICHR Attorney Ahmed Nasra told Hebron’s Radio Alam the PA lawyers didn’t even try to argue that the prisoner wasn’t entitled to a salary, but simply claimed some technical rationale for the suspension.
The Court, meanwhile, accepted the counter argument that the terrorist had been getting a salary and was simply entitled to continue getting it, under law:
Ahmed Nasra and Al-Alam host Samer Al-Ruwaished
Host: “Was there an opposing party … a representative or lawyer from the [PA] Ministry [of Finance] against which you filed the petition? Were certain arguments presented to the court as to why they stopped this person’s salary?”
Ahmed Nasra: “Of course, the administrative prosecution represents the [PA] governmental entities. We — I as the lawyer — represent the appellant, the one who filed the petition. And the administrative prosecution is the one representing the governmental ministries and the government. The defense of the administrative prosecution was mainly procedural and formal, meaning they did not argue whether the prisoner is entitled or not entitled to a salary; they did not enter into that matter. Rather, they argued that there was a defect in the lawsuit, that there was a defect in the procedures, formal matters of this kind…
This person already meets the conditions for receiving a salary, let’s say… for salary eligibility … He was, as you know, one of those 1,600 prisoners who were already receiving salaries initially.”
Host:“Right, they are not asking for a [new] salary, they have already been [on the list of recipients].”
Ahmed Nasra: “Yes, exactly. Therefore, you are talking about 1,600 cases of people who already meet the conditions. In other words, the problem was not in that. Therefore, the administrative prosecution … did their job and their role in the case. They had no reservation and did not appeal on the matter of meeting the eligibility conditions. And this makes sense.”
Host: “And this perhaps also helped in reaching this decision, which restores the situation to its previous state, since [the salaries] were legal in the first place.” [emphasis added]
[Al-Alam radio station (Hebron), Facebook page, May 4, 2026]
Enough is enough. The PA incentivizing terror through Pay-for-Slay must be stopped completely in every method that it is delivered — whether it be through salaries, stipends, pensions, or hiring policies. The PA that passed the law mandating Pay-for-Slay must provide a legal remedy to stop it once and for all — now.
The author is a contributor to Palestinian Media Watch, where a version of this article first appeared.