Uncategorized
How Judy Blume’s ‘Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret’ broke taboos around interfaith marriage
(JTA) — When Judy Blume’s young adult novel “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret” appeared in 1970, intermarried families were a small segment of the American Jewish population. Perhaps 17% of Jews were married to someone who wasn’t Jewish; today, 42% of married Jews have a spouse who is not Jewish, and in the past decade, 61% of Jews married non-Jewish partners.
Through the 1960s, middle-grade and young adult fiction rarely acknowledged the existence of these families, reflecting and reinforcing their outsider status. Today it is routine for authors to address the reality of inter-religious and culturally mixed families, portraying them with insight and compassion. (See “Not Your All-American Girl” by Wendy Wan-Long Shang and Madelyn Rosenberg, “Becoming Brianna” by Terri Libenson and “The Whole Story of Half a Girl” by Veera Hiranandani.)
This change was made possible partly by Blume’s story of sixth-grader Margaret Simon and her one-sided conversations with God.
Blume’s status as a pioneer in young adult literature is usually associated with her honest approach to the emotional, physical and sexual milestones of growing up, with her works still attracting readers and still finding an honored place on lists of banned books. That legacy is being celebrated in April with a new documentary, Amazon Prime Video’s “Judy Blume Forever,” and a theatrical release by Lionsgate of a feature film version of “Are You There God?”
Yet her treatment of contested identity in intermarried families is as revolutionary as her openness about bras, menstruation and sexual feelings. Actors Lena Dunham and Molly Ringwald, comedian Samantha Bee and many authors, including Raina Telgemeier, Tayari Jones and Gary Shteyngart, have cited Blume’s influence on both their lives and their work. Book lists for intermarried families frequently list the novel as a resource.
Margaret Simon is 11 years old at the start of “Are You There God?” Her Jewish dad and Christian mom have pointedly ignored the possibility that their daughter might have questions about her identity. Along with other issues of teen angst, she feels compelled to decide if she is Jewish, Christian or neither. Without any guidance, the last alternative leaves her in a frightening void. As she pointedly asks God, in her ongoing series of questions for Him, “I can’t go on being nothing forever, can I?”
Margaret’s parents, Barbara Hutchins and Herb Simon, fell in love and defied their respective parents by marrying out of their faiths. They assure Margaret that she has no religion, but can choose one when she is older, oblivious to the fact that this solution seems more of a burden than a promise of future freedom. Their avoidance of any serious engagement with either religion or culture renders any possible choice unlikely.
Blume situates Margaret’s search within the specific landscape of post-World War II America. When the Simons decide to leave their Upper West Side home in New York City and move to suburban New Jersey, their decision suggests a coded reference to their religious status. Long Island is “too social,” an implied euphemism for “too Jewish.” Living there might have made it harder for their relatively unusual situation to be discreetly ignored. On the other hand, the more affluent Westchester and Connecticut are “too expensive” and “too inconvenient.” Farbrook, New Jersey has enough Jews for it to feel right for Herb, but not so many as to make their mixed family stand out.
Margaret also suspects that her parents’ are determined to put distance between the Simons and Sylvia, her paternal grandmother, who lives in New York City. This gregarious woman shows up at their new home unannounced and toting deli foods, making it clear that Margaret’s one unambiguous connection to Judaism is not going to disappear. While Barbara’s parents utterly rejected her when she married a Jew, Sylvia has pragmatically decided to accept what she cannot change. In the postwar era, more Jews began to abandon or minimize religious practice, while still maintaining ethnically distinct customs. Like holiday observance or synagogue attendance, ethnic Jewish culture is also absent from the Simon home. Sylvia’s Jewish food, her frequent trips to Florida, even her combination of sarcasm and smothering warmth, provide Margaret with markers of the tradition her parents have eschewed.
Still, when Sylvia repeatedly asks Margaret if her (nonexistent) boyfriends are Jewish, the young girl is baffled. Given her own lack of consciousness of herself as Jewish, why would Margaret care?
Rachel McAdams and Abby Ryder Fortson in the forthcoming film adaptation of “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.” (Dana Hawley/Lionsgate © 2022)
In the larger world of Farbrook, Margaret’s new friends seem to have more secure identities, conveniently defined by membership either in the “Y” (Young Men’s Christian Association) or the Jewish Community Center. Perfunctory attendance at Hebrew school until after one’s bar mitzvah is the furthest extent of her peers’ Jewishness. Margaret explains that her parents are “nothing” and that, prior to their marriage, they were Jewish and Christian, as if those identities could be cast off like an article of clothing. When Mr. Benedict, her enthusiastic young teacher, distributes a questionnaire, Margaret completes the prompt “I hate” with “religious holidays.” He attempts to draw her out about this troubling answer, and she scornfully observes that her teacher acted as if “he had uncovered some deep, dark mystery.”
On one level, he has. Her mother’s blandly universal definition of God as a “nice idea,” who “belongs to everybody,” is clearly a denial of the fractures in her family members’ lives.
Blume also captures the essence of mid-century non-Orthodox Judaism as comfortably accessible, yet also somewhat empty. On a visit to Grandma Sylvia’s elegant temple, the atmosphere is quietly decorous, the sanctuary filled with well-appointed congregants and beautifully arranged flowers. Sylvia’s rabbi greets Margaret with an enthusiastic “Good Yom Tov,” which he translates as “Happy New Year,” although it is actually a generic holiday greeting.
When Margaret later visits Presbyterian and Methodist churches, she notes the remarkable similarity among all three experiences.
The novel’s one incident of specific religious practice involves Margaret’s brief, unfinished confession in a classmate’s Catholic church. Having participated in bullying, Margaret tries to assuage her guilt through a ritual alien to both her father’s Judaism and her mother’s Protestant Christianity. She even momentarily confuses the priest with the silent God of her conversations. Nothing could be further from her parents’ rejection of religion, or from Grandma Sylvia’s loving assurance to Margaret that “I knew you were a Jewish girl at heart.”
When Margaret’s Christian grandparents decide to resume contact, the suppressed anger in the Simon home finally erupts. Herb is furious, and accuses his in-laws of only wanting to meet Margaret “to make sure she doesn’t have horns!” — a caustic reference to a persistent antisemitic myth. Blume had subtly foreshadowed this disruption of the status quo in a parallel event at school. When a Jewish student, backed by his parents, refuses to sing Christmas carols, the implicit agreement of the town’s Jews to quietly conform is broken. A Christian girl, in what seems an act of retaliation, then refuses to sing Hanukkah songs. These acts of resistance reinforce Margaret’s marginal status. Her intermarried family represents neither conformity with postwar norms nor an assertion of Jewish pride.
Blume appears to tip the scales in her portrayal of Mary and Paul Hutchins, Margaret’s maternal grandparents. Entirely unlikeable, simultaneously pushy and cold, they insist that the granddaughter they had never acknowledged is Christian. After their failed visit, Grandma Sylvia returns, along with her sweet and obviously Jewish new boyfriend, Mr. Binamin (“rhymes with cinnamon”). Readers rooting for the triumph of Margaret’s Jewish roots may breathe a sigh of relief here, but hope for a satisfying ending is illusory. Margaret’s search for a stable sense of self is still unfinished, and will not be satisfied by choosing membership in either the Y or the JCC.
For young readers, the novel’s discussion of religious identity proved as life-changing as its honest portrayal of puberty and menstruation. “I related to that kind of conflict of religion,” the comedian Chelsea Handler, who grew up in a mixed Jewish-Mormon home, told Blume in 2020. “At that time, I just found out my mom was Mormon, on top of thinking she was Jewish, and your books were such a reprieve for me and such a joy.”
More than 50 years ago, Judy Blume tackled a difficult subject, about both changing demographics and the search for authenticity in American Jewish life. Margaret’s conclusion that “twelve is very late to learn” about the essence of who you are still poses a challenge, while her persistent search for a meaningful identity offers a degree of optimism.
—
The post How Judy Blume’s ‘Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret’ broke taboos around interfaith marriage appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
Why protests in Iran seem surprisingly pro-Israel
Iranian cities are engulfed in anti-regime protests, the largest in several years. Initially sparked by economic frustration, the demonstrations have quickly expanded to include broader grievances — particularly anger at Iran’s foreign policy. One chant heard repeatedly in videos circulating from inside Iran captures that anger succinctly: “Neither Gaza, nor for Lebanon — my life is only for Iran.”
The slogan refers to Iran’s long-standing support for armed groups across the Middle East, including Hezbollah in Lebanon, Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad in Gaza, the Houthis in Yemen, and militias in Iraq and Syria. Qassem Soleimani, the late commander of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps’ Quds Force, designed the strategy with the intention of encircling Israel with proxy forces on multiple fronts.
Today, many Iranians view that strategy as a drain on a collapsing economy. On December 28, the Iranian rial — the country’s currency — plunged against the U.S. dollar, intensifying a long-running economic crisis marked by soaring prices and an annual inflation rate of around 40 percent.
Beyond the billions of dollars Tehran has spent supporting these groups, the U.S. and European Union have imposed harsh sanctions targeting Iran’s proxy networks and nuclear program. Those sanctions have restricted Iran’s access to international banking, restricted oil exports, and discouraged foreign investment into the country, contributing to inflation and the steady erosion of the rial.
In June, Iranians came face to face with the consequences of the regime’s foreign policy when Israeli strikes across the country targeted missile and nuclear sites, as well as IRGC leaders. The 12-Day War severely disrupted daily life and resulted in the death of 436 Iranian civilians.
For many protesters, the connection feels direct: money spent sustaining proxy forces abroad brings harsher sanctions at home, raising prices, shrinking wages, and worsening daily life. With that in mind, the chant is less an endorsement of Israel than a rejection of a foreign policy that, in protesters’ eyes, prioritizes anti-Israel and anti-Western ideology over basic economic survival.
The return of monarchist symbolism
Many protesters are also calling for the return of the Pahlavi dynasty, which ruled Iran until the 1979 Islamic Revolution. Videos shared online show protesters chanting slogans in favor of the former monarchy or displaying symbols associated with it, including the pre-revolutionary Iranian flag.
The Pahlavi era was marked by rapid modernization and close ties with the United States and Israel, including a strategic alliance with Israel that consisted of economic and intelligence cooperation. At the same time, the period was also defined by political repression, censorship, and the use of secret police to silence dissent — factors that ultimately fueled the revolution that ended the monarchy.
The most prominent figure associated with the dynasty today is Reza Pahlavi, the Shah’s son, who lives in Maryland and has been outspokenly pro-Israel. Pahlavi has called for normalizing relations between Iran and Israel through what he has dubbed the “Cyrus Accords,” an expansion of the Abraham Accords. Pahlavi has commented that the “only two countries on this planet that can claim to have a biblical relationship” are “Iran and Israel.”
In April 2023, Pahlavi traveled to Israel, where he met with Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, President Isaac Herzog, and paid a visit to the Western Wall, where he said he prayed “for the day when the good people of Iran and Israel can renew our historic friendship.” He even consulted Israeli water management scientists, whom he dubbed the “best experts in the field,” to help him develop a plan of action for Iran’s water crisis, which has also been a major point of contention for protestors. In June, Pahlavi’s daughter married Jewish American businessman Bradley Sherman, and the hora was danced at the reception.
On Thursday, Pahlavi called on Iranians to take to the streets en masse. Since his call to action, the protests have escalated significantly, though the extent of his influence inside Iran remains difficult to assess.
Many analysts caution that monarchist support inside Iran remains fragmented, and that Pahlavi is unlikely to emerge as a singular opposition leader. Still, the symbolism matters. The current protests have been driven in large part by young Iranians, many of whom have no direct memory of the Pahlavi era. The use of monarchist symbolism may signal not only nostalgia, but also an alternative vision of Iran’s place in the world — one less defined by permanent hostility toward Israel.
The post Why protests in Iran seem surprisingly pro-Israel appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
God heard the cries of Israelites in Egypt. Who will respond to our devastation in Minnesota?
In this week’s Torah portion, Shemot, God hears the cries of the oppressed Israelites in Egypt and calls out to Moses through the form of a burning bush.
Today, here in Minnesota, cries of the oppressed can be heard, too. They come from all those who grieve the tragic loss of Renée Nicole Good, fatally shot by an Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent on Wednesday morning in front of her wife and horrified neighbors. And they come from all those feeling fear and outrage as federal agents have increased their efforts to detain immigrants, acting with new violence and brutality as they do so.
Many of my fellow Minnesotans have been frightened to leave their homes. They are not going to the jobs they rely on to afford their basic needs, or attending worship services. Parents are scared to send their children to school. Schools, daycare centers and businesses are afraid to open, as ICE makes arrests on their doorsteps. Community members who have been eager to help are now fearful, in the wake of Good’s killing, that they, too, may be targeted, harassed, or even killed.
My own child’s elementary school moved recess indoors to protect vulnerable students and staff who are worried about their safety from ICE.
In Shemot, God calls to Moses to usher in an era of change for the Israelites desperate for relief from fear, violence and vicious retribution. Moses hesitates, asking “who am I?” to take on this monumental task. God assures him that he is not alone, because God will be with him throughout the journey.
As we enter this Shabbat, with the tragedy of Good’s death fresh in our minds, we must commit ourselves to hearing the cries of all who suffer among us. That is the first step toward healing and repairing the brokenness that so many now feel.
That repair will be a monumental task. But like Moses, we are not called to do it alone.
In fact, we must not try to. Instead, we must focus our efforts on building bonds in the face of terror — not letting that terror break our connections to one another.
The Jewish sages taught that, for our ancestors, sinat chinam — baseless hatred — led to internal fracture, civil war, the destruction of both Jewish temples, and our people’s forced exile from the land of Israel. Their warning is not abstract. It reminds us that societies collapse not only because of external threats, but also because of the consequences of unmitigated internal rage.
What’s needed to correct our dangerous path?
First, a strong pushback against those voices who have issued incomprehensible personal attacks against Good since her death. Too many federal officials and media personalities have not only failed to express empathy for a life lost, but also used her death to inflame polarization.
Our state desperately needs calm and clarity. Our leaders and our citizens must forcefully affirm that Good’s death was needless and tragic, and that we will not go along with attempts to rewrite that truth.
As part of this affirmation, we must call on the federal government to allow the professional and nonpartisan Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension to fully participate in the investigation of Good’s death. No matter what findings are ultimately reached, the investigation’s credibility relies upon it being done in partnership with state and federal officials.
This event has proven what many of us already knew: The ongoing surge of more than 2,000 ICE agents into Minnesota is counterproductive to restoring public safety and public trust. Minnesotans desperately want to return to normalcy. We want to feel safe in going to school, to work, and to spend time with family and friends. ICE has brought fear and anxiety into our lives, not peace or justice. They must go.
Our country’s immigration system has been broken for decades. Congress has at points come close to reaching bipartisan, consensus-driven, comprehensive immigration reform, but political polarization has made such compromises all but impossible to reach.
We must redouble our efforts to build an immigration system based upon respect for the rule of law, compassion, and an understanding of the vital role that immigrants play in strengthening our society as a whole.
We ask our fellow Minnesotans to treat members of law enforcement, and the men and women of our Minnesota National Guard, with patience and kindness. And we urge our community to exercise compassion for the vulnerable in the days ahead.
As Jewish Americans, we have a long and proud history of supporting immigrant communities — remembering that we too were once strangers in a strange land. Not just our ancestors in ancient Egypt, whose anguish this week’s Torah portion recounts, but also here, in the U.S. We must reinvigorate that commitment — for the sake of Good’s memory, our immigrant neighbors, and the health of our whole society.
The post God heard the cries of Israelites in Egypt. Who will respond to our devastation in Minnesota? appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Mamdani Remains Silent on Pro-Hamas Synagogue Protest, Other NYC Lawmakers Issue Condemnations
New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani delivers a speech during his inauguration ceremony in New York City, US, Jan. 1, 2026. Photo: REUTERS/Kylie Cooper
Newly inaugurated New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani has remained silent regarding an anti-Israel protest outside a Queens synagogue on Thursday evening that featured chants supporting Hamas and prompted nearby Jewish institutions to shut down out of safety concerns.
The demonstration took place outside Young Israel of Kew Gardens Hills, where an event promoting Israeli real estate investments was scheduled. Dozens of protesters chanted slogans including “Globalize the intifada” and “Say it loud, say it clear, we support Hamas here,” according to video footage shared online. Hamas is designated a terrorist organization by the United States and the architect behind the Oct. 7 massacres in Israel which killed roughly 1200 and resulted in the abduction of 250 others.
The protest also unfolded near the Yeshiva of Central Queens, leading synagogue leaders to cancel evening prayer services and local schools to dismiss students early. While the New York Police Department maintained a buffer zone and no major violence was reported, residents described the atmosphere as tense and intimidating.
A chorus of condemnation has come from city and state lawmakers since the protest.
State Assemblyman Sam Berger, whose district includes the synagogue, said the mayor’s failure to speak out was “deeply concerning,” arguing that city leadership has a responsibility to draw clear lines when protests target houses of worship.
“This wasn’t an abstract political rally,” Berger said. “It was outside a synagogue, in a residential Jewish neighborhood, with chants that glorify violence. The mayor should be unequivocal.”
Governor Kathy Hochul, by contrast, swiftly condemned the protest, calling the chants “disgusting” and emphasizing that support for Hamas has no place in New York.
“No matter your political beliefs, this type of rhetoric is disgusting, it’s dangerous, and it has no place in New York,” Hochul wrote.
NYC Council Speaker Julie Menin wrote that “openly and proudly sympathizing with Hamas, especially while standing in the largely Jewish community of Kew Gardens Hills, stokes fear and division.”
Mark Levine, NYC Comptroller, repudiated the demonstrations, saying they “cannot be normalized or excused.”
Rep. Ritchie Torres, a Bronx Democrat, also denounced the demonstration, saying rhetoric that praises terrorist organizations amounts to hate, not legitimate political speech.
Meanwhile, as criticism mounted from state and federal officials, Mamdani, who took office just days earlier, did not issue a direct statement condemning the protest or the rhetoric used by demonstrators.
The protest was organized by groups affiliated with the Palestinian Assembly for Liberation (PAL-Awda) NY/NJ, which has previously promoted demonstrations targeting Israel-related events. Organizers framed the rally as opposition to Israeli land sales, but Jewish leaders say the location and language crossed a line.
The episode echoes earlier controversies surrounding Mamdani, who has faced criticism in the past for what opponents describe as equivocation when anti-Israel protests occur near Jewish religious spaces. In a previous incident outside an Upper East Side synagogue, Mamdani criticized language used by the protesters while simultaneously condemning the synagogue for hosting real estate events.
The protest comes amid an alarming surge in antisemitic hate crimes across New York City.
Jews were targeted in the majority (54 percent) of all hate crimes perpetrated in New York City in 2024, according to data issued by the New York City Police Department (NYPD). A new report released on Wednesday by the New York City Mayor’s Office to Combat Antisemitism, which was established in May, noted that figure rose to a staggering 62 percent in the first quarter of this year, despite Jewish New Yorkers comprising just 11 percent of the city’s population.
After securing the election, Mamdani has repeatedly stressed a commitment to forcefully combatting antisemitism while in office. However, a recent report released by the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) revealed that at least 20 percent of Mamdani’s transition and administrative appointees have either a “documented history of making anti-Israel statements” or ties to radical anti-Zionist organizations that “openly promote terror and harass Jewish people.”
Mamdani, a far-left democratic socialist and avowed anti-Zionist, is an avid supporter of boycotting all Israeli-tied entities who has made anti-Israel activism a cornerstone of his political career and been widely accused of promoting antisemitic rhetoric. He has repeatedly accused Israel of “apartheid” and “genocide”; refused to recognize the country’s right to exist as a Jewish state; and refused to explicitly condemn the phrase “globalize the intifada,” which has been associated with calls for violence against Jews and Israelis worldwide.
