Podcasts about middle eastern jews

Chalin and The Delve production team discuss their favorite episodes from the season, including topics like Middle Eastern Jews, Christian nationalism, and organ smuggling. They also take us behind-the-scenes creation process, emphasizing the importance of context, nuance, and avoiding personal biases. The team's enthusiasm and dedication shine through, making this episode a must-listen!

Too few people know that parts of the Arab world and Iran were once home to large Jewish communities. This Mizrahi Heritage Month, let's change the story, with the final episode of the first season of The Forgotten Exodus, the first-ever narrative podcast series devoted exclusively to the rich, fascinating, and often-overlooked history of Mizrahi and Sephardic Jewry. Thank you for lifting up these stories to celebrate Mizrahi Heritage Month. If you enjoy this episode, be sure to listen to the rest of The Forgotten Exodus, wherever you get your podcasts.   __ Home to one of the world's oldest Jewish communities, the story of Jews in Iran has been one of prosperity and suffering through the millennia. During the mid-20th century, when Jews were being driven from their homes in Arab lands, Iran assisted Jewish refugees in providing safe passage to Israel. Under the Shah, Israel was an important economic and political ally. Yet that all swiftly changed in the 1979 Iranian Revolution, which ushered in Islamic rule, while chants of “Death to Israel” and “Death to America” rang out from the streets of Tehran.   Author, journalist, and poet Roya Hakakian shares her personal story of growing up Jewish in Iran during the reign of the Shah and then Ayatollah Khomeini, which she wrote about in her memoir Journey From the Land of No. Joining Hakakian is Dr. Saba Soomekh, a professor of world religions and Middle Eastern history who wrote From the Shahs to Los Angeles: Three Generations of Iranian Jewish Women between Religion and Culture. She also serves as associate director of AJC Los Angeles, home to America's largest concentration of Persian Jewish immigrants.  In this sixth and final episode of the season, the Hakakian family's saga captures the common thread that has run throughout this series – when the history of an uprooted community is left untold, it can become vulnerable to others' narratives and assumptions, or become lost forever and forgotten. How do you leave behind a beloved homeland, safeguard its Jewish legacy, and figure out where you belong? __ Show notes: Listen to The Forgotten Exodus and sign up to receive updates about future episodes.  Song credits:  Chag Purim · The Jewish Guitar Project Hevenu Shalom · Violin Heart Pond5:  “Desert Caravans”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Tiemur Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 “Oud Nation”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: Haygaz Yossoulkanian (BMI), IPI#1001905418 “Persian”: Publisher: STUDEO88; Composer: Siddhartha Sharma “Meditative Middle Eastern Flute”: Publisher: N/; Composer: DANIELYAN ASHOT MAKICHEVICH (IPI NAME #00855552512), UNITED STATES BMI Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 “Sentimental Oud Middle Eastern”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Sotirios Bakas (BMI), IPI#797324989. “Frontiers”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: Pete Checkley (BMI), IPI#380407375 “Persian Investigative Mystery”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: Peter Cole (BMI), IPI#679735384 “Persian Wind”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Sigma (SESAC); Composer: Abbas Premjee (SESAC), IPI#572363837 “Modern Middle Eastern Underscore”: Publisher: All Pro Audio LLC (611803484); Composer: Alan T Fagan (347654928) “Persian Fantasy Tavern”: Publisher: N/A; Composer: John Hoge “Adventures in the East”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI) Composer: Petar Milinkovic (BMI), IPI#00738313833. ___ Episode Transcript: ROYA HAKAKIAN: In 1984, when my mother and I left and my father was left alone in Iran, that was yet another major dramatic and traumatic separation. When I look back at the events of 1979, I think, people constantly think about the revolution having, in some ways, blown up Tehran, but it also blew up families. And my own family was among them.  MANYA BRACHEAR PASHMAN: The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in Arab nations and Iran in the mid-20th century. This series, brought to you by American Jewish Committee, explores that pivotal moment in Jewish history and the rich Jewish heritage of Iran and Arab nations as some begin to build relations with Israel. I'm your host, Manya Brachear Pashman. Join us as we explore family histories and personal stories of courage, perseverance, and resilience. This is The Forgotten Exodus.  Today's episode: Leaving Iran MANYA: Outside Israel, Iran has the largest Jewish population in the Middle East. Yes, the Islamic Republic of Iran. In 2022. Though there is no official census, experts estimate about 10,000 Jews now live in the region previously known as Persia.  But since the 1979 Iranian Revolution, Jews in Iran don't advertise their Jewish identity. They adhere to Iran's morality code: women stay veiled from head to toe and men and women who aren't married or related stay apart in public. They don't express support for Israel, they don't ask questions, and they don't disagree with the regime. One might ask, with all these don'ts, is this a way of living a Jewish life? Or a way to live – period?  For author, journalist, and poet Roya Hakakian and her family, the answer was ultimately no. Roya has devoted her life to being a fact-finder and truth-teller. A former associate producer at the CBS news show 60 Minutes and a Guggenheim Fellow, Roya has written two volumes of poetry in Persian and three books of nonfiction in English, the first of which was published in 2004 – Journey From the Land of No, a memoir about her charmed childhood and accursed adolescence growing up Jewish in Iran under two different regimes.  ROYA: It was hugely important for me to create an account that could be relied on as a historic document. And I did my best through being very, very careful about gathering, interviewing, talking to, observing facts, evidence, documents from everyone, including my most immediate members of my family, to do what we, both as reporters, but also as Jews, are called to do, which is to bear witness. No seemed to be the backdrop of life for women, especially of religious minorities, and, in my own case, Jewish background, and so I thought, what better way to name the book than to call it as what my experience had been, which was the constant nos that I heard. So, Land of No was Iran. MANYA: As a journalist, as a Jew, as a daughter of Iran, Roya will not accept no for an answer. After publishing her memoir, she went on to write Assassins of the Turquoise Palace, a meticulously reported book about a widely underreported incident. In 1992 at a Berlin restaurant, a terrorist attack by the Iranian proxy Hezbollah targeted and killed four Iranian-Kurdish exiles. The book highlighted Iran's enormous global footprint made possible by its terror proxies who don't let international borders get in the way of silencing Iran's critics.   Roya also co-founded the Iran Human Rights Documentation Center, an independent non-profit that reports on Iran's human rights abuses.  Her work has not prompted Ayatollah Khameini to publicly issue a fatwa against her  – like the murder order against Salman Rushdie issued by his predecessor. But in 2019, one of her teenage sons answered a knock at the door. It was the FBI, warning her that she was in the crosshairs of the Iranian regime's operatives in America. Most recently, Roya wrote A Beginner's Guide to America: For the Immigrant and the Curious about the emotional roller coaster of arriving in America while still missing a beloved homeland, especially one where their community has endured for thousands of years. ROYA: I felt very strongly that one stays in one's homeland, that you don't just simply take off when things go wrong, that you stick around and try to figure a way through a bad situation. We came to the point where staying didn't seem like it would lead to any sort of real life and leaving was the only option. MANYA: The story of Jews in Iran, often referred to as Persia until 1935, is a millennia-long tale. A saga of suffering, repression, and persecution, peppered with brief moments of relief or at least relative peace – as long as everyone plays by the rules of the regime. SABA SOOMEKH: The history of Jews in Iran goes back to around 2,700 years ago. And a lot of people assume that Jews came to Iran, well at that time, it was called the Persian Empire, in 586 BCE, with the Babylonian exile. But Jews actually came a lot earlier, we're thinking 721-722 BCE with the Assyrian exile which makes us one of the oldest Jewish communities.  MANYA: That's Dr. Saba Soomekh, a professor of world religions and Middle Eastern history and the author of From the Shahs to Los Angeles: Three Generations of Iranian Jewish Women between Religion and Culture. She also serves as associate director of American Jewish Committee in Los Angeles, home to America's largest concentration of Persian Jewish immigrants. Saba's parents fled Iran in 1978, shortly before the revolution, when Saba and her sister were toddlers. She has devoted her career to preserving Iranian Jewish history.   Saba said Zoroastrian rulers until the 7th Century Common Era vacillated between tolerance and persecution of Jews. For example, according to the biblical account in the Book of Ezra, Cyrus the Great freed the Jews from Babylonian rule, granted all of them citizenship, and permitted them to return to Jerusalem to rebuild their Temple.  The Book of Esther goes on to tell the story of another Persian king, believed to be Xerxes I, whose closest adviser called Haman conspires to murder all the Jews – a plot that is foiled by his wife Queen Esther who is Jewish herself. Esther heroically pleads for mercy on behalf of her people – a valor that is celebrated on the Jewish holiday of Purim.  But by the time of the Islamic conquest in the middle of the 7th Century Common Era, the persecution had become so intense that Jews were hopeful about the new Arab Muslim regime, even if that meant being tolerated and treated as second-class citizens, or dhimmi status. But that status had a different interpretation for the Safavids. SABA: Really things didn't get bad for the Jews of the Persian Empire until the 16th century with the Safavid dynasty, because within Shia Islam in the Persian Empire, what they brought with them is this understanding of purity and impurity. And Jews were placed in the same category as dogs, pigs, and feces. They were seen as being religiously impure, what's referred to as najes. MANYA: Jews were placed in ghettos called mahaleh, where they wore yellow stars and special shoes to distinguish them from the rest of the population. They could not leave the mahaleh when it rained for fear that if water rolled off their bodies into the water system, it would render a Shia Muslim impure. For the same reason, they could not go to the bazaars for fear they might contaminate the food. They could not look Muslims in the eye. They were relegated to certain artisanal professions such as silversmithing and block printing – crafts that dirtied one's hands.  MANYA: By the 19th century, some European Jews did make their way to Persia to help. The Alliance Israélite Universelle, a Paris-based network of schools founded by French Jewish intellectuals, opened schools for Jewish children throughout the Middle East and North Africa, including within the mahalehs in Persia.  SABA: They saw themselves as being incredibly sophisticated because they were getting this, in a sense, secular European education, they were speaking French. The idea behind the Allianz schools was exactly that. These poor Middle Eastern Jews, one day the world is going to open up to them, their countries are going to become secular, and we need to prepare them for this, not only within the context of hygiene, but education, language.  And the Allianz schools were right when it came to the Persian Empire because who came into power was Reza Pahlavi, who was a Francophile. And he turned around and said, ‘Wow! Look at the population that speaks French, that knows European philosophy, etc. are the Jews.' He brought them out of the mahaleh, the Jewish ghettos, and said ‘I don't care about religion. Assimilate and acculturate. As long as you show, in a sense, devotion, and nationalism to the Pahlavi regime, which the Jews did—not all Jews—but a majority of them did. MANYA: Reza Pahlavi took control in 1925 and 16 years later, abdicated his throne to his son Muhammad Reza Pahlavi. In 1935, Persia adopted a new name: Iran. As king or the Shah, both father and son set Iran on a course of secularization and rapid modernization under which Jewish life and success seemed to flourish. The only condition was that religious observance was kept behind closed doors. SABA: The idea was that in public, you were secular and in private, you were a Jew. You had Shabbat, you only married a Jew, it was considered blasphemous if you married outside of the Jewish community. And it was happening because people were becoming a part of everyday schools, universities.  But that's why the Jewish day schools became so important. They weren't learning Judaism. What it did was ensure that in a secular Muslim society, that the Jewish kids were marrying within each other and within the community. It was, in a sense, the Golden Age. And that will explain to you why, unlike the early 1950s, where you had this exodus of Mizrahi Jews, Arab Jews from the Arab world and North Africa, you didn't really have that in Iran.  MANYA: In fact, Iran provided a safe passage to Israel for Jewish refugees during that exodus, specifically those fleeing Iraq. The Pahlavi regime considered Israel a critical ally in the face of pan-Arab fervor and hostility in the region. Because of the Arab economic boycott, Israel needed energy sources and Iran needed customers for its oil exports.  A number of Israelis even moved to Tehran, including farmers from kibbutzim who had come to teach agriculture, and doctors and nurses from Hadassah Hospital who had come to teach medicine.  El Al flew in and out of Tehran airport, albeit from a separate terminal. Taking advantage of these warm relations between the two countries, Roya recalls visiting aunts, uncles, and cousins in Israel.  ROYA: We arrived, and my mom and dad did what all visiting Jews from elsewhere do. They dropped to their knees, and they started kissing the ground. I did the same, and it was so moving. Israel was the promised land, we thought about Israel, we dreamed about Israel. But, at the same time, we were Iranians and, and we were living in Iran, and things were good.  This seems to non-Iranian Jews an impossibility. But I think for most of us, it was the way things were. We lived in the country where we had lived for, God knows how many years, and there was this other place that we somehow, in the back of our minds thought we would be going to, without knowing exactly when, but that it would be the destination. MANYA: Relations between the Shah and America flourished as well. In 1951, a hugely popular politician by the name of Mohammad Mosaddegh became prime minister and tried to institute reforms. His attempts to nationalize the oil industry and reduce the monarchy's authority didn't go over well. American and British intelligence backed a coup that restored the Shah's power. Many Iranians resented America's meddling, which became a rallying cry for the revolution. U.S. officials have since expressed regret for the CIA's involvement.  In November 1977, President Jimmy Carter welcomed the Shah and his wife to Washington, D.C., to discuss peace between Egypt and Israel, nuclear nonproliferation, and the energy crisis.  As an extension of these warm relations, the Shah sent many young Iranians to America to enhance their university studies, exposing them to Western ideals and values.  Meanwhile, a savvy fundamentalist cleric was biding his time in a Paris basement. It wouldn't be long before relations crumbled between Iran and Israel, Iran and the U.S,. and Iran and its Jews.  Roya recalls the Hakakian house at the corner of Alley of the Distinguished in Tehran as a lush oasis surrounded by fragrant flowers, full of her father's poetry, and brimming with family memories. Located in the heart of a trendy neighborhood, across the street from the Shah's charity organization, the tall juniper trees, fragrant honeysuckle, and gold mezuzah mounted on the door frame set it apart from the rest of the homes.  Roya's father, Haghnazar, was a poet and a respected headmaster at a Hebrew school. Roya, which means dream in Persian, was a budding poet herself with the typical hopes and dreams of a Jewish teenage girl.  ROYA: Prior to the revolution, life in an average Tehran Hebrew Day School looked very much like life in a Hebrew Day School anywhere else. In the afternoons we had all Hebrew and Jewish studies. We used to put on a Purim show every year. I wanted to be Esther. I never got to be Esther. We had emissaries, I think a couple of years, from Israel, who came to teach us how to do Israeli folk dance. MANYA: There were moments when Roya recalls feeling self-conscious about her Jewishness, particularly at Passover. That's when the family spent two weeks cleaning, demonstrating they weren't najes, or dirty Jews. The work was rewarded when the house filled with the fragrance of cumin and saffron and Persian dishes flowed from the kitchen, including apple and plum beef stew, tarragon veal balls stuffed with raisins, and rice garnished with currants and slivers of almonds.  When her oldest brother Alberto left to study in America, a little fact-finding work on Roya's part revealed that his departure wasn't simply the pursuit of a promising opportunity. As a talented cartoonist whose work had been showcased during an exhibition in Tehran, his family feared Alberto's pen might have gone too far, offending the Pahlavi regime and drawing the attention of the Shah's secret police.  Reports of repression, rapid modernization, the wide gap between Tehran's rich and the rest of the country's poor, and a feeling that Iranians weren't in control of their own destiny all became ingredients for a revolution, stoked by an exiled cleric named Ruhollah Khomeini who was recording cassette tapes in a Paris basement and circulating them back home.  SABA: He would just sit there and go on and on for hours, going against the Shah and West toxification. And then the recordings ended up in Iran. He wasn't even in Iran until the Shah left. MANYA: Promises of democracy and equality galvanized Iranians of all ages to overthrow the Shah in February 1979. Even the CIA was surprised.  SABA: I think a lot of people didn't believe it. Because number one, the Shah, the son, was getting the most amount of military equipment from the United States than anyone in the Middle East and in the Persian Gulf. And the idea was: you protect us in the Gulf, and we will give you whatever you need. So they never thought that a man with a beard down to his knee was able to overthrow this regime that was being propped up and supported by America, and also the Europeans. Khomeini comes in and represents himself as a person for everyone. And he was brilliant in the way he spoke about it. And the reason why this revolution was also successful was that it wasn't just religious people who supported Khomeini, there was this concept you had, the men with the turbans, meaning the religious people, and the you know, the bow ties or the ties, meaning the secular man, a lot of them who were sent by the Shah abroad to Europe and America to get an education, who came back, saw democracy there, and wanted it for their country.  MANYA: Very few of the revolutionaries could predict that Tehran was headed in the opposite direction and was about to revert to 16th Century Shia Islamic rule. For almost a year, Tehran and the rest of the nation were swept up in revolutionary euphoria.  Roya recalls how the flag remained green, white, and red, but an Allah insignia replaced its old sword-bearing lion. New currency was printed, with portraits bearing beards and turbans. An ode to Khomeini became the new national anthem. While the Shah had escaped on an Air France flight, corpses of his henchmen graced the front pages of newspapers alongside smiling executioners. All celebrated, until the day one of the corpses was Habib Elghanian, the Jewish philanthropist who supported all of Iran's Hebrew schools. Charged and convicted as a Zionist spy.  Elders in the community remembered the insurmountable accusations of blood libel during darker times for Iran's Jews. But younger generations like Roya's, who had not lived through the eras of more ruthless antisemitism and persecution, continued to root for the revolution, regardless of its victims. Meanwhile, Roya's Jewish day school was taken over by a new veiled headmistress who replaced Hebrew lessons with other kinds of religious instruction, and required robes and headscarves for all the students.  ROYA: In the afternoons, from then on, we used to have lessons in a series of what she called: ‘Is religion something that you inherit, or is it something that you choose?' And so I think the intention, clearly, was to convince us that we didn't need to inherit our religions from our parents and ancestors, that we ought to consider better choices. MANYA: But when the headmistress cut short the eight-day Passover break, that was the last straw for Roya and her classmates. Their revolt got her expelled from school.  Though Jews did not universally support Khomeini, some saw themselves as members of the Iranian Communist, or Tudeh Party. They opposed the Shah and the human rights abuses of his monarchy and cautiously considered Khomeini the better option, or at least the lesser of two evils. Alarmed by the developments such as Elghanian's execution and changes like the ones at Roya's school, Jewish community leaders traveled to the Shia holy city of Qom to assure the Supreme Leader of their loyalty to Iran.  SABA: They did this because they wanted to make sure that they protected the Jewish community that was left in Iran. Khomeini made that distinction: ‘I am not against Jews, I'm against Zionists. You could be Jewish in this country. You cannot be a Zionist in this country.'  MANYA: But that wasn't the only change. Right away, the Family Protection Law was reversed, lifting a law against polygamy, giving men full rights in divorce and custody, and lowering the marriage age for girls to nine. Women were banned from serving as judges, and beaches and sports events were segregated by gender.  But it took longer to shut down universities, albeit for only two years, segregate public schools by gender, and stone to death women who were found to have committed adultery. Though Khomeini was certainly proving that he was not the man he promised to be, he backed away from those promises gradually – one brutal crackdown at a time. As a result, the trickle of Jews out of Iran was slow.  ROYA: My father thought, let's wait a few years and see what happens. In retrospect, I think the overwhelming reason was probably that nobody believed that things had changed, and so drastically. It seemed so unbelievable. I mean, a country that had been under monarchy for 2,500 years, couldn't simply see it all go and have a whole new system put in place, especially when it was such a radical shift from what had been there before. So I think, in many ways, we were among the unbelievers, or at least my father was, we thought it could never be, it would not happen. My father proved to be wrong, nothing changed for the better, and the conditions continued to deteriorate. So, so much catastrophe happened in those few years that Iran just simply was steeped into a very dark, intense, and period of political radicalism and also, all sorts of economic shortages and pressures. And so the five years that we were left behind, that we stayed back, changed our perspective on so many things. MANYA: In November 1979, a group of radical university students who supported the Iranian Revolution, took over the U.S. Embassy in Tehran, seized hostages, and held them for 444 days until President Ronald Reagan's inauguration on January 20, 1981. During the hostages' captivity, Iraqi President Saddam Hussein invaded Iran. The conflict that ensued for eight years created shortages on everything from dairy products to sanitary napkins. Mosques became distribution centers for rations. ROYA: We stood in line for hours and hours for eggs, and just the very basic things of daily life. And then it became also clear that religious minorities, including Jews, would no longer be enjoying the same privileges as everyone else. There were bombings that kept coming closer and closer to Tehran, which is where we lived. It was very clear that half of my family that was in the United States could not and would not return, because they were boys who would have been conscripted to go to war. Everything had just come apart in a way that was inconceivable to think that they would change for the better again. MANYA: By 1983, new laws had been passed instituting Islamic dress for all women – violations of which earned a penalty of 74 lashes. Other laws imposed an Islamic morality code that barred co-ed gatherings. Roya and her friends found refuge in the sterile office building that housed the Jewish Iranian Students Association. But she soon figured out that the regime hadn't allowed it to remain for the benefit of the Jewish community. It functioned more like a ghetto to keep Jews off the streets and out of their way. Even the activities that previously gave her comfort were marred by the regime. Poetry books were redacted. Mountain hiking trails were arbitrarily closed to mourn the deaths of countless clerics.  SABA: Slowly what they realize, when Khomeini gained power, was that he was not the person that he claimed to be. He was not this feminist, if anything, all this misogynistic rule came in, and a lot of people realize they, in a sense, got duped and he stole the revolution from them. MANYA: By 1984, the war with Iraq had entered its fourth year. But it was no longer about protecting Iran from Saddam Hussein. Now the Ayatollah wanted to conquer Baghdad, then Jerusalem where he aspired to deliver a sermon from the Temple Mount. Meanwhile, Muslim soldiers wounded in the war chose to bleed rather than receive treatment from Jewish doctors. Boys as young as 12 – regardless of faith – were drafted and sent on suicide missions to open the way for Iranian troops to do battle.  SABA: They were basically used as an army of children that the bombs would detonate, their parents would get a plastic key that was the key to heaven. And the bombs would detonate, and then the army would come in Iranian army would come in. And so that's when a lot of the Persian parents, the Jewish parents freaked out. And that's when they were like: we're getting out of here.  MANYA: By this time, the Hakakian family had moved into a rented apartment building and Roya was attending the neighborhood school. Non-Muslim students were required to take Koran classes and could only use designated water fountains and bathrooms.  As a precaution, Roya's father submitted their passports for renewal. Her mother's application was denied; Roya's passport was held for further consideration; her father's was confiscated.  One night, Roya returned home to find her father burning her books and journals on the balcony of their building. The bonfire of words was for the best, he told her. And at long last, so was leaving. With the help of the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society, Roya and her mother, Helen, fled to Geneva, and after wandering in Europe for several months, eventually reunited with her brothers in the United States. Roya did not see her father again for five years. Still unable to acquire a passport, he was smuggled out of Iran into Pakistan, on foot.  ROYA: My eldest brother left to come to America in the mid-70s. There was a crack in the body of the family then. But then came 1979, and my two other brothers followed. And so we were apart for all those very, very formative years. And then, in 1984, when my mother and I left and my father was left alone in Iran, that was yet another major dramatic and traumatic separation. So, you know, it's interesting that when I look back at the events of 1979, I think, people constantly think about the revolution having, in some ways, blown up Tehran, but it also blew up families. And my own family was among them.  MANYA: While her father's arrival in America was delayed, Roya describes her arrival in stages. She first arrived as a Jewish refugee in 1985 and found her place doing what she had always done – writing in Persian – rebuilding a body of work that had been reduced to ashes.  ROYA: As a teen I had become a writer, people were encouraging me. So, I continued to do it. It was the thing I knew how to do. And it gave me a sense of grounding and identity. So, I kept on doing it, and it kind of worked its magic, as I suppose good writing does for all writers. It connected me to a new community of people who read Persian and who appreciated what I was trying to do. And I found that with each book that I write, I find a new tribe for myself.  MANYA: She arrived again once she learned English. In her first year at Brooklyn College, she tape-recorded her professors to listen again later. She eventually took a course with renowned poet Allen Ginsberg, whose poetry was best known for its condemnation of persecution and imperial politics and whose 1950s poem “Howl” tested the boundaries of America's freedom of speech.  ROYA: When I mastered the language enough to feel comfortable to be a writer once more, then I found a footing and through Allen and a community of literary people that I met here began to kind of foresee a possibility of writing in English. MANYA: There was also her arrival to an American Jewish community that was largely unaware of the role Jews played in shaping Iran long before the advent of Islam. Likewise, they were just as unaware of the role Iran played in shaping ancient Jewish life. They were oblivious to the community's traditions, and the indignities and abuses Iranian Jews had suffered, continue to suffer, with other religious minorities to keep those traditions alive in their homeland.   ROYA: People would say, ‘Oh, you have an accent, where are you from?' I would say, ‘Iran,' and the Jews at the synagogue would say, ‘Are there Jews in Iran?' MANYA: In Roya's most recent book A Beginner's Guide to America, a sequel of sorts to her memoir, she reflects on the lessons learned and the observations made once she arrived in the U.S. She counsels newcomers to take their time answering what might at first seem like an ominous or loaded question. Here's an excerpt: ROYA: “In the early days after your arrival, “Where are you from?” is above all a reminder of your unpreparedness to speak of the past. You have yet to shape your story – what you saw, why you left, how you left, and what it took to get here. This narrative is your personal Book of Genesis: the American Volume, the one you will sooner or later pen, in the mind, if not on the page. You must take your time to do it well and do it justice.” MANYA: No two immigrants' experiences are the same, she writes. The only thing they all have in common is that they have been uprooted and the stories of their displacement have been hijacked by others' assumptions and agendas. ROYA: I witnessed, as so many other Iranian Jews witness, that the story of how we came, why we came, who we had been, was being narrated by those who had a certain partisan perspective about what the history of what Jewish people should be, or how this history needs to be cast, for whatever purposes they had. And I would see that our own recollections of what had happened were being shaded by, or filtered through views other than our own, or facts other than our own. MANYA: As we wrap up this sixth and final episode of the first season of The Forgotten Exodus, it is clear that the same can be said about the stories of the Jewish people. No two tales are the same. Jews have lived everywhere, and there are reasons why they don't anymore. Some fled as refugees. Some embarked as dreamers. Some forged ahead without looking back. Others counted the days until they could return home. What ties them together is their courage, perseverance, and resilience–whether they hailed from Eastern Europe, North Africa, the Middle East, or parts beyond. These six episodes offer only a handful of those stories–shaped by memories and experiences. ROYA: That became sort of an additional incentive, if not burden for me to, to be a witness for several communities, to tell the story of what happened in Iran for American audiences, to Jews, to non-Iranian Jews who didn't realize that there were Jews in Iran, but also to record the history, according to how I had witnessed it, for ourselves, to make sure that it goes down, as I knew it. MANYA: Iranian Jews are just one of the many Jewish communities who in the last century left their homes in the Middle East to forge new lives for themselves and future generations.  Many thanks to Roya for sharing her family's story and for helping us wrap up this season of The Forgotten Exodus. If you're listening for the first time, check out our previous episodes on Jews from Iraq, Yemen, Egypt, Libya, and Sudan. Go to ajc.org/theforgottenexodus where you'll also find transcripts, show notes, and family photos. There are still so many stories to tell. Stay tuned in coming months. Does your family have roots in North Africa or the Middle East? One of the goals of this series is to make sure we gather these stories before they are lost. Too many times during my reporting, I encountered children and grandchildren who didn't have the answers to my questions because they never asked. That's why one of the goals of this project is to encourage you to find more of these stories.  Call The Forgotten Exodus hotline. Tell us where your family is from and something you'd like for our listeners to know such as how you've tried to keep the traditions and memories alive. Call 212.891.1336 and leave a message of 2 minutes or less. Be sure to leave your name and where you live now. You can also send an email to theforgottenexodus@ajc.org and we'll be in touch. Tune in every Friday for AJC's weekly podcast about global affairs through a Jewish lens, People of the Pod, brought to you by the same team behind The Forgotten Exodus.  Atara Lakritz is our producer, CucHuong Do is our production manager. T.K. Broderick is our sound engineer. Special thanks to Jon Schweitzer, Sean Savage, Ian Kaplan, and so many of our colleagues, too many to name, for making this series possible. And extra special thanks to David Harris, who has been a constant champion for making sure these stories do not remain untold. You can follow The Forgotten Exodus on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts, and you can sign up to receive updates at AJC.org/forgottenexodussignup. The views and opinions of our guests don't necessarily reflect the positions of AJC.  You can reach us at theforgottenexodus@ajc.org. 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Yael R Rosenstock Gonzalez (she/her) is a sex educator, sex coach, researcher, author, speaker, curriculum developer, and workshop facilitator. As a queer, polyamorous, white-presenting Nuyorican Jew, Yael has always been interested in understanding the multi-level experiences of individuals. This led her to found Kaleidoscope Vibrations, LLC, a company dedicated to supporting and creating spaces for individuals to explore and find community in their identities. Through her company, she facilitates workshops, develops curriculum, offers Identity Exploration Coaching, and publishes narratives often left out of mainstream publishing.This episode we explore:Honoring boundaries in community spaces and navigating POC spaces as a white presenting personFinding belonging and claiming identity as a multi-ethnic personDiversity in the Jewish diaspora Promoting inclusive representations of human experience in publishing Episode ResourcesDecolonizing Wellness: A QTBIPOC-Centered Guide to Escape the Diet Trap, Heal Your Self-Image, and Achieve Body LiberationBali Retreat March 19-25 2023https://kvibrations.com/https://www.sexpositiveyou.com/https://www.instagram.com/yaelthesexgeek/https://www.tiktok.com/@yaelthesexgeekHello and welcome to another episode of Body Liberation for All. I'm your host, Dalia Kinsey, holistic registered dietitian, and the author of Decolonizing Wellness.My work is centered on amplifying the health and happiness of LGBTQI+ and BIPOC people. And that is also what we do here at Body Liberation for All. I wanna remind you, I am hosting the Decolonizing Wellness Eco-Luxury QTBIPOC retreat in Bali in March. So if you are a person who loves the plan way in advance, like I do. This is when you want to book. This is a great time to give yourself plenty of room to break the trip into payments and to get all of your ducks in a row. If you aren't going to be able to join us, but you know someone who this retreat could be life changing for, please make sure you share it. Substack makes sharing so easy on their platform. So if you visit daliakinsey.substack.com to listen to this episode you'll see it's just a click of a button. Today's guest, the Yael Rosenstock has so much knowledge in different areas that we cover a lot of territory in this conversation. There was still so much more that we could have dug into that hopefully at a later date we'll get to revisit. Today we explore a little bit of the lived experience of being a white presenting person who lives shoulder to shoulder with POC within the family, but out in the world is not having the same experience as the family members that have a darker complexion. Since we already know race is not actually real from a scientific perspective, it's totally a social construct, your skin color itself will to a large extent determine how much lived experience you have as a person of color or as a white person, regardless of what the socialization inside of your house is like because so much of the POC experience, if you're living in a colonized country, if you're living in a country that has its roots in white supremacy, so much of the experience is informed by the anti-Blackness or the anti-POCness that you're going to encounter out in the world.That does not in any way invalidate the cultural uniqueness of people who are in these very blended families and happen to have pale skin or white skin. So it's interesting to me to hear directly from somebody having this experience. It's an interesting concept to look at on an individual level. What does the fact that race is fictional and totally social have? How does that all play out - when you know you are culturally different from the white folks who do not have POC blood relatives that they live with and are close with but at the same time you know that you're not experiencing the same level of marginalization. What is that like? I rarely bother to claim my Latinx heritage. Because the anti-blackness that I have encountered in a lot of Spanish-speaking circles here in the US is so intense it doesn't make any logical sense for me to keep trying to be somewhere that I don't feel welcome.Some of these themes that Yael shares, the feeling of not enoughness when you are more than one thing or when you've only been presented with a narrow definition of what it means to hold a particular identity, is so relatable. I know not just to us, it's so relatable to so many people, because the ways that we define certain identities are so narrow it naturally leaves out a large number of people. The work that Yael is doing to promote the authentic representation of a wide variety of human experience at her publishing company feels like such a natural extension of this lived experience that she has of knowing how difficult it can be to really claim and embody our identities when we haven't seen anything similar reflected back to us. I love this. Entire conversation. I know you will too. Let's jump right into it. Body Liberation for All ThemeYeah. They might try to put you in a box, tell them that you don't accept when the world is tripping out tell them that you love yourself. Hey, Hey, smile on them live your life just like you like it is.It's your party negativity is not invited. For my queer folks, for my trans, people of color, let your voice be heard. Look in the mirror and say that it's time to put me first. You born to win. Head up high with confidence.  This show is for everyone. So, I thank you for tuning in. Let's go.Dalia: I definitely wanted to cover the concept of white passing fragility. But then I want to definitely talk about your other projects and just what you're doing with intersectionality.Yael: Okay. I do want to warn that there's a very good chance that that will not. Some people will really like that idea of the white passing fragility, but others won't because right. The author of that book has become super famous and super rich off of a book around racism as a white woman. And just giving you a fair warning that this may or may not be taken so well.Dalia: And then that's so interesting too, because it seems like people should be compensated for good work or things that they do with good intentions.Dalia: But so often people who are in social justice are on the struggle bus financially, but, and that almost seems to be the expectation. Like you have to be a martyr to break down systems of oppression. But then I also am conflicted because it seems like all the time, white people continue to profit off of pain from people of color and especially Black people in this country. Even when you look at who makes money off of depictions of just Black suffering in general, whether it's another movie about slavery, even if it's a "fun" spin on it, like the Django or something, which I refuse to watch, I just don't understand how we're not seeing how problematic that is, but at least hers originally started out with intentions that seemed more educational.Dalia: Like I think it's a little more sketch to create a film or a piece of entertainment that centered on Black pain. And then all the money goes to somebody who's not Black. I mean, not at all, but the majority, most of it, right. It seems less sketchy, but it is sketchy nonetheless.Dalia: And I've been having a lot of feelings around these white savior complexes that are popping out these days. And people not understanding that, hey, maybe people want to be the hero of their own damn story and guess what, maybe they are ready are.Yael: But you're in the wayDalia: I know. Right? Or like you just exhausting people showing up to the March and explaining to everybody how, you know, you're being white the right way. I don't know if you've seen that play out in real life where people try constantly schooling other white people on how to be more. Down, I guess is the expression, but it doesn't really translate, but it's so rare that people confront people like that because their competition or the people that you have to compare them to you sometimes are so problematic that by comparison, they seem amazing.Yael: Yeah, I like this better.Dalia: So it's like, should I even say anything?Dalia: So I don't know.Yael: Considering that most of my spaces are POC and or Latin. I don't have that many white saviors.Dalia: Smart. Okay. Is that by design or is that coincidental?Yael: Well, I think at first it's coincidental, right? Just like growing up in a mixed neighborhood with a mixed family.Yael: It just is what happened. I was in a school with folks of different groups. And so that just continued. And then when I did reach middle school and there were white people who were just white, not Latin, like, I mean, there were a couple in elementary, but not many. And. I just felt really uncomfortable in the space.Yael: And that was like my assigned group. Cause I wasn't dark enough to be in the Latin group, I think. And also like the Latin group was like ghetto fab. Like I also wore my hair back slicked back. I also had the lip liner, and I had the big hoop earrings as well,Dalia: But like it wasn't enough.Yael: It was a, it was a browner Latin group. And so I felt like I shouldn't be part of it. Like I was friends with them, but I shouldn't be part of it because I didn't look the same. And so I just like ended up, even though I was friends with all the other groups, I ended up in the white girl group and I was just like, this is uncomfortable. Like, I don't agree with the things they say.Yael: I like rebelled a bit and basically got kicked out. And so I think after that, I was just like, I'm going to try and choose. So I don't think I've ever been like, I'm unwilling to be friends with white people because that doesn't seem nice either. But the same reason that folks have affinity groups, right?Yael: The same reason we hang out with queer people as queer people, the same reason you hang out with Latin people if you're Latin or Black and Black is because you don't want to have to explain certain things. And I'm tired. And so I don't go into all white spaces cause I get nervous about why are they all white?Yael: Like what's the intention behind this group. Is there an ulterior motive and I, yeah, I just like, I don't want to have to explain things that I end up becoming that white person, the white savior being like, that's not how. I joined a book club once. And they were talking about how, like, it didn't make sense that this person was referencing their dreams.Yael: Like it's not like a real thing. And I was like, this person is Mexican. And I don't know that much about Mexicans, but in like Caribbean culture dreams can be really important.Dalia: Oh wait. They were saying like a literal dream, not goals that they were struggling with finding meaning in their dream and they thought that was weird?Yael: Yeah. He was writing a memoir and he was referencing how he thought his dream was related to the, like what was happening in his life and that he had seen a Wolf or something. Right. He has indigenous culture roots, right as a Mexican-American. But they were just like, no, that's like, he's just making that up from the memoir.Dalia: But no, because that's extremely common.Yael: Yeah. Like they couldn't fathom it.Dalia: That is fascinating. So this is so interesting, can you share your marginalized identities? Because I think the experience of being white presenting is interesting in that you may be exposed to things that I might never hear, because I didn't even know that, I didn't even notice that white people weren't doing that all the time too.Dalia: Because at work at the moment I'm working in a majority Black office. And people are constantly talking about, you know, oh, I saw this, I wonder if it's a sign and we all have different religious backgrounds too. Somebody even started wearing a hair net because they're afraid somebody might get some of their hair that was shedding and put roots on them. None of us thought that was weird. We were all like, oh, if you feel it's necessary, you do that. You make sure you're not,Yael: You save yourself. It may or may not be real. It may or may not be. I'm always like, I rather be careful then sorry.Dalia: Exactly. Absolutely. Nobody said anything when I came into the room to sage it because I thought that we had some bad mojo in there.Dalia: People said, make sure you get my desk.. Someone came in with holy water. Like we had a very problematic coworker , and we were like, get all the stuff we're clapping in the corners.Yael: I was friends with one of the custodians where I used to work and she's an older woman. She was like the age of maybe like between mother and grandmother.Yael: And she brought me a bracelet because she was. You're very joyful and you're pretty. And I just think that someone's going to send you a curse. made me a bracelet to protect me from maldiciones. She just didn't want me to get hurt.Dalia: And you immediately put it on. You're like, okay, thanks.Yael: I mean, first off, like I appreciate that you're caring about me and no, I don't think it's weird.Yael: I've worn, evil eyes before, you know, like, to me, I think that the bigger thing for us is like whether or not we participate or whether or not we're like, yes, this is real when I talk about ghost stories, I share all the ghost stories. I know. Was I there? No. Was it real? I don't know. Cause I wasn't there, but it could be .Dalia: It's so dismissive to be like, oh, that's so dumb. What? Who says that -only people who are very sheltered and are under the impression that their way is the only way.Yael: This was a group about social justice. The people are lovely and the ones who hosted, I actually adore. They are fantastic.Yael: And they weren't the ones who were having this question, but I remember one person in particular, she was just totally dismissive. And I was just like, I don't understand. And I didn't show up for a couple of years, but then I came back and I was like, okay, my role is going to be giving the perspective of not these people in the case that this comes up again, because they keep reading books by people of color. And like, I don't have the same perspective. Like I said, I'm not Mexican. I don't know what they do. But I have a feeling that this is like something that's shared, like it's a native American thing.Yael: It's a Latin thing. It's a Black thing. Like I just feel, you know, Asian cultures, everyone, actually.Dalia: I know this is whats so bizarre.Yael: There are definitely white people who also have that as a practice and Jews, a lot of us who do pass it are white or pass as white, like that's also part of our culture.Dalia: And that's another thing. So this is one of my big questions. So, you identify as Latin X?Yael: Yes, I'm LatinaDalia: You're Latina and you're Jewish. And so does that mean your mother is your Jewish parent.Yael: That is actually, so...Dalia: does that matter or is that like out of date or…Yael: No, that is an excellent question. My parents tried to enroll me in what's called Yeshiva because they didn't like the local public school.Yael: And so they wanted to put me in a Jewish school and I got rejected because my mother is Catholic and my father is Jewish. And as you like are insinuating, like the religion follows the mother. Now that school accepts muts like me of my form. They no longer discriminate against us, but because my parents couldn't put me in the Jewish school.Yael: I went to an Episcopalian school.Dalia: Oh, wow, you were all over the place.Yael: Yeah. So I got a good Christian education .Dalia: Oh, and how did your dad manage,, was he a little heartbroken? Like, Ooh, not what I had in mind.Yael: Well, it was a small school. There wasn't a religion class, but like every morning we started with prayers and every Wednesday we had mass and I just, I didn't know they wanted me to be Jewish. I thought they were saying, here are our religions. You go to Sunday Jewish school. You go to day school with Christians. Figure out your path. And so I very confidently figured out my path. I was like, I am Jewish. And like, I am now very knowledgeable about Christian stuff. But actually they did want me to be Jewish and they had warned the school that that was what they wanted.Dalia: I was under the impression, and this may not be accurate. Is that like a modern Jewish person may be a little more secular and maybe they know some of the traditions and then maybe they go to synagogue for special events or, but still feel that strong cultural identity.Dalia: And then don't really feel, I feel like they should be dropped into that white American bucket with everybody else because they're separate as an ethnic group. Whereas other white ethnic groups (in America) gave up their separateness for the most part.Yael: Interesting. So I haven't done much study into the question, but I have a friend who sent me, who sends me lots of articles, Catherine.Yael: And she sent me an article about whether or not Jews are white and my coworker, Asia Gray, who does our anti-racism curriculum and what have you. One of the books was, how antisemitism was the original racism. And so that's part of the way that she talks about oppression and like structural oppressions and what have you.Yael: And she starts that story there and it's like Jews became white if you are white, but there are Black Jews. There are like plenty of Middle Eastern Jews that have more color there are Russian Jews, the Sephardic Jews, the Mizrahi in general. So there are plenty of Jews of color and then they're like me Ashkenazi, which are of German roots, right. German and certain parts of Russia, roots and Poland and all that kind of stuff. And so, yeah. Yes, it is a different, I agree. It's different ethnic group. Like you can trace us back when I did that blood test, I literally come out 49% Ashkenazi. I'm from Germany, even though I can, I can trace my roots on a family tree that's physical to the 15 hundreds. It says I'm Ashkenazi. Wasn't mentioned Germany because the Jewish blood is what it picks up. And so, yes, I agree. Like there's like this ethnic thing there and that's why you can be a secular person of a religion.Yael: I mean, there are plenty of secular Christians, right. That celebrate Christmas and what have you. But there's like this certain level of like the foods that you eat and the mannerisms that you have and like certain cultural values. I don't identify it as a secular Jew I identify as reform, which is like a less observant Jew.Dalia: Now, how did you feel your queer identity meshes with Judaism? It's rumored to be an easier mesh. Is that true? Are Christians just being jealous?Yael: I think it is an easier, easier. I mean, I know plenty of Christians that are queer, but my synagogue, I don't remember how old I was, but she bat mitzvah'd me so young enough for that had a lesbian rabbai.Yael: And she got married at our synagogue and we were just a regular reform synagogue. Right. We weren't like, ah, where the most social justice progressive synogauge, we were just a reform synagogue. And we did lose some of the older parishioners and I imagine some other age ones, when she joined as the rabbi, but for the most part, everyone was like, love who you love.Yael: Right? Like that's not an issue. And she was a woman rabbi and my next rabbi was also a woman, right? So like that's super common. It's even starting very slowly in the Orthodox community, which is one of the more observant sects of Judaism to have women rabbis. And so overall I think that shift is, is more common in our space .Dalia: The idea of there being Jewish people of color is interesting to me, because it seems like in the states, people are under the impression that that's not a thing. Can you tell us about the work that you're doing for representation, and as far as intersectionality goes as a very fair skin person of color.Yael: Sure so I think the most thing that the thing that directly relates is that I'm part of the diverse bodies project. The idea is a nude photo interview series, intended to increase representation of who gets seen and photograph naked and how you want to be represented.Yael: So it's not that you had to do a sexy shot or you had to do a serious shot that people get to bring their personalities in through the photographs and show who they are. And that was really important to us and something that we did because it's been taken us forever. But the mini books that we've already released is the Jews flying the rainbow flag mini books.Yael: And so it's got five different Jews and we had plenty of Jews participate but featured five different Jews ranging from like early twenties to, I think, sixties and out of the five of them. Two of them are Black. One of the Black Jews is also Latin, so she's Afro Dominican. And the point of that was to be like folks exist, you know, and it's so common for you to be like, this is what a Jew looks like when.Yael: Yeah, sure a lot of us do look like me. There are Black Jews. There are Latin Jews, there are Asian Jews, there are all the types. And so that was really important to us that we highlight that these are two queer Black Jewish women and they get as much space in this little book as anyone else.Yael: I will say part of my work and that's what we got into the white white passing fragility talk is that I don't identify as a person of color. And who knows, maybe I'll change that at some point. I choose not to identify that way. Cause it feels appropriative. And to be like, just because I have another language or just because my family may have a bunch of people of color and it doesn't mean that I'm existing as a person of color.Yael: And so when I walked through the street, people see me as white and that's just true. But I do enter, and I was asked this question recently, so why do I enter people of color spaces? And it's cause I'm, I'm feel safer there. I feel more connected there. I don't feel blegh there. And so if people are willing to have me, which they generally are, most people of color spaces are open to white presenting Latin folk. Then I just asked permission and I join.Dalia: That's interesting and I knew that, and I forgot that when I said that, because I know I'm very used to- anybody who says they're a person of color. I was just like, okay, like, it's the response? Because especially, you know, Black American, no, actually.Dalia: Latin people even more than Black Americans come in all kinds of shades and colors, and you can't look at somebody and have any clue what even their parents look like. And that a lot of times really informs their experience as far as how they were treated growing up, because it is funny to me how depending on who you're sitting beside, people may perceive your color differently, which just goes to show how arbitrary our understanding of race is..Dalia: Like number one, we know it's not a real biological thing, but like you said, it's the experience that creates the cultural differences. It's the lived experience that matters. So if, when you are out in the world, people treat you as though you are white well then you are having the white experience.Dalia: And that is really the key difference. But I have biracial friends who, if they were with their brown parent, they get treated differently and are even perceived differently versus with the other parent, which I just think is fascinating.Yael: Well, my parents are both white. My dad is white Ashkenazi and my mother is a white presenting Latina.Yael: My uncle, my abuela they would have been identified as POC, but not my mother. And so when I'm with my mother, it was the same thing. People don't realize she speaks Spanish. She's been spoken about by people who were like checking her out.Dalia: Well, it's just interesting to me. And I don't know if this happens everywhere or if it's some of our American brainwashing, but like all the time people act as though Spanish is. Secret language. And I'm like, what is wrong with you? It is so, so common. And the people who speak it look so many different ways and you don't have to only speak English, your heart language, or your first language.Dalia: Like, that's another thing I'm like, you do realize that maybe she can speak Spanish as a second language or not all latin people look the same. I really don't understand the disconnect with that because I've been spoken about in Spanish to my frigging face so many times, and I do speak Spanish. And usually, I mean, unless they're saying something really rude, usually people are trying to guess whether or not the person I'm with is my husband or my what's the male form of mistress.Dalia: I bet there isn't one, right? Oh,Yael: LoverDalia: Yeah, it just goes to show like, if there isn't a word that connotes, not a legitimate partner, because you're not married to them that's some more sexist shenanigans, but yeah, it's just interesting to me that people make that assumption so often. So what has your experience been like trying to stay connected to your Latin roots when so often people are very narrow about what they consider to be Latin?Yael: So it's funny because all of our countries have folks, all the Latin countries have folks that look like me. And like most of the countries have folks that look like you, right? It's not, we're not anomalies in these spaces.Yael: And so I actually, I was convinced I needed to prove myself. Like my mother, I felt counted as real Latina because she was raised in Puerto Rico. Her first language is Spanish. Like that seems to me like check that counts. But me I'm half Ashkenazi. I look, the way that I do my Spanish for awhile was pretty crappy.Yael: And so I, I felt the need to prove myself. All my friends were Latina and I was like, I must be more Latina. I must speak this fluently. And I must eat the food. And I am an incredible salsa dancer at this point. So, but that was all me. Right. And perhaps white people and perhaps Black people who weren't Latin.Yael: Right. And that, if I said I was. The response was always like, oh really? Unless I turned around and then they're like, I see it in your butt now I know that you're Latin because of your butt, like, literally the number of times people have been like, I believe you because of your shape. Otherwise I wouldn't have counted you.Yael: Whereas on the flip side with Latin folks, there's really not much surprise. They don't assume I'm Latina. But if I start speaking Spanish or they see me dancing or whatever, like they ask me, where are you from? They don't ask me, are you at the end of the ask me? Oh, okay. Yeah. Right. Assume that I am. And they're right, because for them, it's not so surprising to see someone who looks like me, but I think, and it's when you think of immigration, you're going to assume that more white Latins are going to migrate because of mean.Yael: Whereas you have browner and Blacker people migrating because of need. And so if you're hanging out with folks from your same social class, which will end up being also your same racial categorization, because those are very linked to whether or not we all want to admit it in the Americas as well.Yael: And all the Americas. So like, I think that that's part of it, right? You're used to hanging out with other brown people. And so even though your country has plenty people who look like me, you never associated with associated with them. Either. They were from a different region or they were from a different social class.Yael: And so they went to different schools and they had different access. And so I think that's more it, but like Latin people never not include me.Dalia: Oh, that's interesting. So it was really more just internal.Yael: Yeah. I was like in TV, none of the Latinas looked like me. All of my friends were darker than me.Yael: And so I was like, I need to be darker. And my abuela ? When I went to go visit her, she was like, no sunscreen. We need to get you more dark.Dalia: That is so interesting to me because that I've seen more often the opposite experience. So first I think when I turn on Univision, everybody's white and the housekeeper looks like she has some indigenous ancestry.Dalia: She doesn't get to say anything, except like, let me get that for you.Yael: They're white almost. They're like what I call exotic white. Like they have, what's considered what I consider the stereotypical, Latin of means look, which is like, they have very heavily European race roots, but they were at some point mixed with other races.Yael: And so they have like olive tone skin, dark hair, like certain whatever. And I don't have. It's like, I'm actually just white passing.Dalia: Yeah. Oh yeah. That makes sense. That distinction. Yeah. I can see that for sure. Like a Sophia Vergara type of, yeah.Dalia: But at the same time I'm sure when she is home, she would be called white, but it's just, when you weave and you come here, then you you've turned into some exotic white.Yael: Yes. And that like that to me is like an interesting thing too. Like if in your own country you are white and then you come here and you're like, I'm a person of color.Yael: What changed? And it's true. Our racial dynamics are very different in each country, but it's interesting to me that, like, I mean, you don't necessarily, people don't identify necessarily as white or Black or what have you. That's not part of, most of the country's ways of self. They just don't do that. And then some countries that like became illegal like you don't put that stuff on the birth certificates, like you just don't name race. But in my head, I'm like you can recognize hopefully that people look different in your country and that you're having different experiences based on that. So when you come to this country, why do you claim this identity?Yael: Or if your family came to this country, why do you claim this identity when you were still white passing?Dalia: Well, yeah, that is really interesting. And what is funny to me, especially for Dominicans, just because I hear this from them more than anybody else, that your race, it feels like it did change during the flight because your treatment was completely different.Dalia: And maybe back home, you were part of the dominant group culturally and power structure wise. And this is the first time people are treating you as though you're an other. And so maybe your identity will shift them because race really is a social construct. So you can make a flight and your race changes.Yael: Yes, totally agree. But also those are Afro Dominican, right? Then being put into a category that is on the lower end of, or possibly the lowest end of our racial categories in the U S. And so they're going from being the norm to going to being the most marginalized population in the country. Whereas if you are a light skinned or white passing Latina you were going from being the highest, probably social class in your country to be not too far down. You might feel like you're all of a sudden, like super oppressed, because you're not used to any form of oppressio nDalia: that see, that really says a lot. And it is the author, speaking of white passing fragility, the writer of white fragility says, you know, like 97% feels like a horrible loss or injustice when you're used to a hundred percent.Yael: Oh, wow. Nice quote.Dalia: And I say that, and I'm like, she probably said some other numbers, but don't look it up. Trust me. I love the idea of that perspective of asking for permission to go into these other spaces because you feel comfortable, but then also not internalizing the rejection. If somebody says, I really, I don't think it's a fit.Dalia: How did you get to that point? And how do you suggest other people who are white presenting, but feel more comfortable in browner spaces? How should they reconcile that?Yael: So I think there's like tying back with like that white savior thing that like, I need to be here.Yael: Don't get me wrong, communities are important. And again, like a lot of my community is POC and that is important to me. And also I recognize that not every space is for me. If you were going to have a men's group, I don't belong in it. When I was helping facilitate a peer sex education group, I was like, we need a leader for the abstinence and virginity group, because I am neither abstinent nor identify as a virgin, but I am a super sexual human being.Yael: And so I don't belong in this space. It does not make the space safe. This is a group led by and for folks with a certain experience. And so when you recognize that that's the point, right? Like women's groups, you don't want men. And normally we don't question that we're not like, oh, how exclusionary what's exclusionary is if you don't allow all women.Yael: All women belong in women's groups, whether they're CIS or trans. But you don't allow men because it's a woman's space. And the point is to create a space that feels safe for that population. So they can be heard, feel seen and not have to explain things that they would have to explain to someone who doesn't understand.Yael: And so to me, that is what often POC spaces are. And there's so much I can understand because I'm surrounded by POC and because my family has POC and there's so much I can't understand because I will never live it.Yael: And so if the space would be safer without my presence, then why would I want to put myself in a spot that will cause others harm when then the intension is for them to have a good space.Yael: Not every space is like that, right? Like if you go to school, if you go somewhere most spaces, unless you're like at historically Black university, right? Like you're going to be surrounded by white folks and like, no, one's questioning that. And so why shouldn't you get to be surrounded by the people you want to be surrounded with for this time period that is yours. It's your time, it's your space. And so I think for me, it's just like thinking about what is your intentions about entering it? Are you trying to contribute in a way that is helpful and wholesome and caring and supportive. Great. Is it wanted? Yes. Enter. Is it not. Go somewhere else. You can still hang out with those same people just not in that particular space that was designated at this time for this purpose.Dalia: And when you say it that way, not at this time and not this space, because I feel like a lot of people who seek out those spaces, that isn't how most of their day is, you know, it's just a little refuge and it certainly isn't that they don't want to have a fully integrated intersectional life.Dalia: Like you said, it's a break from having to explain certain things. And what's interesting is when sometimes you try and make things more and more broad. There's just more potential for issues because I have seen more on reality TV than in real life. Yes. White presenting, Latin people using certain racial slurs saying it's okay for them because they're down or whatever. And I'm like, yeah, but you're not of the group that gets to use that word and they just kept on defending it. I'm just like, okay, we're just, you're canceled. We're moving on. So there are, there can be issues where people who you would expect to not be problematic come in and are.Dalia: And so maybe some people have been burned. A few times, and now they're just, they're exhausted and they don't want to put the energy into fielding out who is safe and who is not safe.Yael: And there's nothing wrong with that. Like it's not necessarily personal, it could be personal if you're one of those people, but even the question, right?Yael: Like I wanted to advertise a job position and so I seek to advertise them first in places of color and queer spaces. And so I contacted several different groups. Oh. And then, sorry, I remember there was a posting for a DEI position at a Jewish organization. And so I started to contact the admin of different POC, Jewish groups, like a Black Jewish group, or what have you.Yael: And I said, listen, I filled out their form to enter, but I was like, I don't actually want to enter. I'm wondering if you can share this link. So folks can see the job. I am a white presenting, a Latino Jew. I ended up getting messaged even by the Black group. And they're like, oh, you can join. I was like, Black is not part of my identity.Yael: Like we, because of the Caribbean, we have those roots as well. But like I don't claim that.Dalia: It's funny. I do feel like Black people in my experience. That's why I was so I've been surprised when people have told me, they were bullied. Black kids in school who are other POC is it's always surprising to me because the town that I was raised in and the part of the south that I'm from, people still were in that space of, if you we're different enough to maybe not be able to get into a whites only area, or if the clain would have targeted you too, cause clan is not down. They're very antisemitic, they're anti everything. But then you were welcome. Like if you wanted to sit at that table, you were always welcome. Just anybody who is being othered the policy was come on in. If you have nowhere else to go, we'll take you.Yael: That's lovely. I definitely know that that's not always true. And again, it's okay. I mean, the bullying is not okay. Deciding who's in your space is, but yeah, exactly. So like I was welcomed and obviously everyone's Jewish because it's a Jewish group.Yael: And so it's, it was specifically a space built for Jews, Black Jews and some Jews of color to have a reprieve from the white Jews. White Jews often mean, well, right? Like we fill up social justice spaces, like hardcores. I've spoken to people about this, that like insofar as percentage of folks who are involved in social justice by group, I imagine that our group is one of the most heavily social justice oriented.Yael: Cause we're so small and people are like you're everywhere, but it doesn't mean that we're doing it well or that we're doing it right. And so it can be exhausting to have white Jews around because we are those white saviory types.Yael: And yeah. So I was, I was surprised and I was like, well, okay. Like I will post it myself then afterwards. And she had, she had posted already and she had written my name and giving me credit. And like I said, this person wanted to let us all know about this job.Dalia: That's very cool. It's nice to find community, but it's also very nice to know that when you're trying to create a safe space around certain parts of our identity, that there are people who understand and support, because I'm sure it's hard for some people to hold that space.Dalia: And to not feel guilty about saying no sometimes. So it's nice to know that even if not everybody understands, some people totally understand and they're not gonna lose any sleep over it. They're just going to move on to the next Facebook group and they'll be fine. And maybe you'll run into each other in another space.Dalia: That's centered around an identity that you have in common.Yael: Yeah. Exactly. And so I think that's just like, it's kinda like building resilience and you might actually be in another POC group together, but not necessarily that one.Yael: And make everybody safe because I would hate to go into a space where I was told, Hey, women are welcome. Like this happens a lot. Well, not now that everybody's at home groups are really growing and there's like a group for everything. But previously it just felt like, like in the nineties, everything that was gay or LGBTQ was CIS male dominated.Dalia: Tell us about your company and what made you want to form a publishing company and what your vision is for that company?Yael: Sure. So my company's name is Kaleidoscope Vibrations, LLC . And for anyone who's an owner, kaleidoscope is it's like this toy that had all these like gems on the bottom and you'd move your hands in opposite directions around this tuby thing. And you'd look inside and it would be create new, pretty color combinations.Yael: And so the idea is that every vibration or event in your life creates a new beautiful you, and that our identities are always forming and they're always developing. And the reason I created this company was because I was this like Jew that wasn't Jewish enough. I was this Latina that I didn't think that I looked enough or counted enough.Yael: I was queer, but not queer enough. You know, like there are all these ways and this, I, I didn't feel like I should count. And that's, that's different, right? Like that's different than choosing whether or not you belong in a space as to whether or not you feel like you matter enough to be in a space or if you, you belong.Yael: And so I created this company to help people find confidence in their identities and find their communities. So maybe. You don't belong to blank community, but you do belong to another one and then you can find the people that you need so you have a supportive, loving environment that understands you.Yael: And so I do workshops, I do identity coaching, curriculum development like inclusivity in the workspace across different identities and what have you. But we also have a publishing sect, and that's the purpose is to uplift different narratives that aren't necessarily heard. And so the first book was mine, which is An Intro Guide to a Sex Positive You.Yael: Sex is not necessarily something you think of and you're like, oh, this is not inclusive, but it really is. And so my book, I know I had someone read it, who was like, I've been looking for a book that validated my experiences as a queer person while reading it that wasn't heteronormative, right. That wasn't geared towards straight people.Yael: And it's not that my book has hetero exclusive. You can be whatever matched you with. I just don't assume what you're going to match. And so I don't add genders into my conversations in the book and that like that in and of itself, apparently at the time was somewhat revolutionary for some folks. And the next book was Luna, Luna Si, Luna.Yael: Yes. Maybe it's that Luna? Yes. Luna Si. And it is a book about two little sisters who are Latino it's in English and in Spanish. And the younger sister has autism. And she is 40% verbal. And so we often see representations of savants, right? So, and they tend to be white males. And so you have these kids who have really incredible abilities to count numbers or to memorize things, or what have you.Yael: And they often do have very good verbal capacities. They have awkward social cues because they have trouble reading it, but that's like the extent to how they represent autism. Whereas in this case, like you see how she, how she is able to communicate the form that her language takes. And you do learn about like the kinds of things that she can do.Yael: You learn about stems. So like ticks that people do to keep themselves calm and well. And that was the intention, right? link that autism comes in all colors, all ethnicities, that there are varying levels of how much people can communicate and what, you know, how much need or help they might require.Yael: And yeah, and it just, that's, it it's a story about sisters and how they love each other and how they communicate and also one of them has autism. And so that intention of bringing those to the surface and yeah, we're working on a bunch of other different possibilities as well. Another one's about anxiety.Yael: So another bilingual book, but a little girl's anxiety and what that's looked like for her.Dalia: That's really helpful. I think that more and more children are experiencing anxiety earlier. So that's definitely needed. And it is interesting how ableism racism, xenophobia, how it all plays together and how you really don't see representation of people living with a diagnosis that aren't white it's. I mean, it's almost always going to be white to the extent that when you meet someone with something as common as down syndrome, who's Asian, you're like, wow. Like, oh, I didn't know. Obviously we can all get whatever we can be born, any kind of way, human diversity, it's just what we choose to feature. That makes it seem like we aren't as diverse as we are.Yael: But then it's also the like racism that exists within the publishing space. And so even when you do have some books that are more representative in that, like the pictures have kids of all different colors, it doesn't necessarily that the author is a person of color.Yael: And so with my company, you have to have either the identities that you are discussing or someone in your like close family, someone in your close life, and you have lived this with them, right. That you are experiencing this with them. So like the author of the book autism, t he person with autism, didn't write this.Yael: She doesn't write. But her sister wrote it. And so she has lived with her sister, her, the younger one's entire life, the one who has autism so entire life. And so that was like the perspective that we were able to take. And so it's very important to me that the people who are writing the stories also have lived experience.Yael: And it's not just about like, oh yeah, we need to mix A and B and with number 3 so that we can count in this diversity world where like, you're supposed to do this. Now it's about like, this is my story, and I want you to hear it.Dalia: And the way that people tell their own story is so different from how it's told by an observer.Dalia: And people can feel that difference. Sometimes it's so subtle, but you definitely, some things just they're very difficult to fake and so right now, a lot of companies. In all sectors, not just publishing people are faking the funk right now, and it's not pretty. So it falls flat. It's all kind of, oh, this just came to me.Dalia: Did you see that woman who has been saying that? She's...Yael: who said that she was Black from the Bronx in the Bronx and is a white Jew from Kansas.Dalia: Yes, she got the hoop earrings, she got the tan and she was like, I'm ready to rock. I do not understand how this has happened more than once in such a widely publicized way in my lifetime.Yael: So I actually, let's, let's break that down a bit. So first off, she's a, she is a white Jew, right? My friend is also a white Jew. Neither of them actually presents white. Like, if you look at them, that's not the identity you're going to give them because they were darker skin tones. Right. And so it's also interesting how whiteness works that like, because they are Jewish, they are given.Yael: Right. It just, that is also so interesting. But I remember someone commented, like how did no one realize like Afro Latinas don't come that light? And I was like, hold up a second way lighter than that woman. Right. There are people who identify as Black. That is their identity. Who are way lighter than this faker.Yael: And so my thing was, you should not fake who you are, but the fact that people believed her makes total sense to me.Dalia: But it seemed like to me, what was the most damning is how. Some of her clothing choices and accessory choices, maybe they speak to her, they were so sterotypical. It just seemed a little performative.Yael: She faked three different identities.Dalia: Oh, I didn't see that part.Yael: Afro Latina was her latest identity. The one before that was Black American, the one before that was north African. Okay. She moved across the globe.Yael: No one tracked this?! Like at one point she was north African and now she's Black and now she's Afro Latina from the Bronx specifically.Dalia: That's interesting too, that extra, that, that was so important for her to feature that what trips me out about it. And I think what really troubles a lot of people about it is to know that.Dalia: Race is not real to the extent that whatever you say could literally change your experience. You just have to keep saying it and buy some hoops and you can be another person. Like, it just, she went overboard with the, just so stereotypical, but you're right. It easily could have been true going off of skin color alone.Dalia: And some people do still dress that way, even though it's not the nineties anymore.Yael: But I love my hoops in the nineties.Dalia: I did too, you know, but they're like more modern with the embellishment. It has that like handcrafted feel. I don't know what happened with the hoops. It went out for me with letting my eyebrows finally try and grow back in, but I did use to be so, so into that. But at one point I also had a Jheri curl.Dalia: So I really shouldn't talk about anybody else's since its style, I've made many mistakes over the years. I really appreciate you sharing your perspective and coming on. Where can people find you? Sure.Yael: So my main thing is that I'm @yaelthesexgeek I'm a sexologist, sex coach, a sex educator.Yael: @yaelthesexgeek on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook. My website is sexpositiveyou.com, so pretty easy. And then my company is kvibrations.com. And so you can find most of my things through there.Dalia: Awesome. You are doing so many different things. We didn't even touch on the sex positivity, maybe that's for another day.Dalia: Are you thinking of revisiting that book now that you know, we're kind of all in a different place as a country and as queer people? Or are there things you'd like to add? Are you going to revise that addition or write something new?Yael: Yeah. So the book is only two years old, but things change and shift so much, right? Like now there is so much more language outside of queer spaces around pronouns, but I think even in 2018, like the idea of talking about pronouns outside of queer spaces was still foreign for most, so. Yes, there are definitely, I've looked back and I'm like, oh, overall, I'm like, this is a good book.Yael: Just so you know, like people love my book and I go back, I'm like, oh, this was, this was better than you thought it was. Yes, there are, of course things I want to change, but I I'm looking into doing a teen workbook version of it. Because I wrote it for my 14 year old self, but I don't think parents of 14 year olds would be thrilled to have their kids read this book..Yael: And I think it's more of like a 16 and up kind of book. And I want to be able to reach people when they're younger because sexual trauma and boundary making and self pleasure and all of that is important before you are 18 or 16. And I also started, but I'm not going to have time right now, the nerds guide.Yael: So this is the intro guide and the nerds guide goes into the socio historical and psychological backgrounds. And so when you talk about things, Gender. I want to be able to talk about that are six sexes and genders are present in the Talmud in ancient Jewish text, rich and written 1500 years ago. I want to talk about the hijra in India, and that they have like that as a third gender that's established that how different native American communities have two spirit or don't have two spirit identities.Yael: And like, what does that mean and how do they conceptualize it? And just like, recognizing that there's so much more beyond what we talk about.Dalia: Yeah, that sounds really fascinating.Yael: Yeah. But that's going to take awhile. It's going to take research and I'm doing a PhD right now.Dalia: The list just keeps going.Yael: And that's on the back burner, that's like maybe if someone gives me a book deal, I'll work on that.Dalia: I love it. Oh, excellent. Thank you so much for coming on.Yael: Thank you for having me.Yael: I always, I really enjoy talking with you and Dalia.Dalia: Same here. Same here. You'll have to come back when you finish your nerd book or I'm sure, actually you're doing many things. I'm sure it'll be before then. Sounds good. Get full access to Body Liberation for All at daliakinsey.substack.com/subscribe

Home to one of the world's oldest Jewish communities, the story of Jews in Iran has been one of prosperity and suffering through the millennia. During the mid-20th century, when Jews were being driven from their homes in Arab lands, Iran assisted Jewish refugees in providing safe passage to Israel. Under the Shah, Israel was an important economic and political ally. Yet that all swiftly changed in the 1979 Iranian Revolution, which ushered in Islamic rule, while chants of “Death to Israel” and “Death to America” rang out from the streets of Tehran.   Author, journalist, and poet Roya Hakakian shares her personal story of growing up Jewish in Iran during the reign of the Shah and then Ayatollah Khomeini, which she wrote about in her memoir Journey From the Land of No. Joining Hakakian is Dr. Saba Soomekh, a professor of world religions and Middle Eastern history who wrote From the Shahs to Los Angeles: Three Generations of Iranian Jewish Women between Religion and Culture. She also serves as associate director of AJC Los Angeles, home to America's largest concentration of Persian Jewish immigrants.  In this sixth and final episode of the season, the Hakakian family's saga captures the common thread that has run throughout this series – when the history of an uprooted community is left untold, it can become vulnerable to others' narratives and assumptions, or become lost forever and forgotten. How do you leave behind a beloved homeland, safeguard its Jewish legacy, and figure out where you belong? ___ Show notes: Sign up to receive podcast updates here. Learn more about the series here. Song credits:  Chag Purim · The Jewish Guitar Project Hevenu Shalom · Violin Heart Pond5:  “Desert Caravans”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Tiemur Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 “Oud Nation”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: Haygaz Yossoulkanian (BMI), IPI#1001905418 “Persian”: Publisher: STUDEO88; Composer: Siddhartha Sharma “Meditative Middle Eastern Flute”: Publisher: N/; Composer: DANIELYAN ASHOT MAKICHEVICH (IPI NAME #00855552512), UNITED STATES BMI Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 “Sentimental Oud Middle Eastern”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Sotirios Bakas (BMI), IPI#797324989. “Frontiers”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: Pete Checkley (BMI), IPI#380407375 “Persian Investigative Mystery”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: Peter Cole (BMI), IPI#679735384 “Persian Wind”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Sigma (SESAC); Composer: Abbas Premjee (SESAC), IPI#572363837 “Modern Middle Eastern Underscore”: Publisher: All Pro Audio LLC (611803484); Composer: Alan T Fagan (347654928) “Persian Fantasy Tavern”: Publisher: N/A; Composer: John Hoge “Adventures in the East”: Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI) Composer: Petar Milinkovic (BMI), IPI#00738313833.   ___ Episode Transcript: ROYA HAKAKIAN: In 1984, when my mother and I left and my father was left alone in Iran, that was yet another major dramatic and traumatic separation. When I look back at the events of 1979, I think, people constantly think about the revolution having, in some ways, blown up Tehran, but it also blew up families. And my own family was among them.  MANYA BRACHEAR PASHMAN: The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in Arab nations and Iran in the mid-20th century. This series, brought to you by American Jewish Committee, explores that pivotal moment in Jewish history and the rich Jewish heritage of Iran and Arab nations as some begin to build relations with Israel. I'm your host, Manya Brachear Pashman. Join us as we explore family histories and personal stories of courage, perseverance, and resilience. This is The Forgotten Exodus.  Today's episode: Leaving Iran MANYA: Outside Israel, Iran has the largest Jewish population in the Middle East. Yes, the Islamic Republic of Iran. In 2022. Though there is no official census, experts estimate about 10,000 Jews now live in the region previously known as Persia.  But since the 1979 Iranian Revolution, Jews in Iran don't advertise their Jewish identity. They adhere to Iran's morality code: women stay veiled from head to toe and men and women who aren't married or related stay apart in public. They don't express support for Israel, they don't ask questions, and they don't disagree with the regime. One might ask, with all these don'ts, is this a way of living a Jewish life? Or a way to live – period?  For author, journalist, and poet Roya Hakakian and her family, the answer was ultimately no. Roya has devoted her life to being a fact-finder and truth-teller. A former associate producer at the CBS news show 60 Minutes and a Guggenheim Fellow, Roya has written two volumes of poetry in Persian and three books of nonfiction in English, the first of which was published in 2004 – Journey From the Land of No, a memoir about her charmed childhood and accursed adolescence growing up Jewish in Iran under two different regimes.  ROYA: It was hugely important for me to create an account that could be relied on as a historic document. And I did my best through being very, very careful about gathering, interviewing, talking to, observing facts, evidence, documents from everyone, including my most immediate members of my family, to do what we, both as reporters, but also as Jews, are called to do, which is to bear witness. No seemed to be the backdrop of life for women, especially of religious minorities, and, in my own case, Jewish background, and so I thought, what better way to name the book than to call it as what my experience had been, which was the constant nos that I heard. So, Land of No was Iran. MANYA: As a journalist, as a Jew, as a daughter of Iran, Roya will not accept no for an answer. After publishing her memoir, she went on to write Assassins of the Turquoise Palace, a meticulously reported book about a widely underreported incident. In 1992 at a Berlin restaurant, a terrorist attack by the Iranian proxy Hezbollah targeted and killed four Iranian-Kurdish exiles. The book highlighted Iran's enormous global footprint made possible by its terror proxies who don't let international borders get in the way of silencing Iran's critics.   Roya also co-founded the Iran Human Rights Documentation Center, an independent non-profit that reports on Iran's human rights abuses.  Her work has not prompted Ayatollah Khameini to publicly issue a fatwa against her  – like the murder order against Salman Rushdie issued by his predecessor. But in 2019, one of her teenage sons answered a knock at the door. It was the FBI, warning her that she was in the crosshairs of the Iranian regime's operatives in America. Most recently, Roya wrote A Beginner's Guide to America: For the Immigrant and the Curious about the emotional roller coaster of arriving in America while still missing a beloved homeland, especially one where their community has endured for thousands of years. ROYA: I felt very strongly that one stays in one's homeland, that you don't just simply take off when things go wrong, that you stick around and try to figure a way through a bad situation. We came to the point where staying didn't seem like it would lead to any sort of real life and leaving was the only option. MANYA: The story of Jews in Iran, often referred to as Persia until 1935, is a millennia-long tale. A saga of suffering, repression, and persecution, peppered with brief moments of relief or at least relative peace – as long as everyone plays by the rules of the regime. SABA SOOMEKH: The history of Jews in Iran goes back to around 2,700 years ago. And a lot of people assume that Jews came to Iran, well at that time, it was called the Persian Empire, in 586 BCE, with the Babylonian exile. But Jews actually came a lot earlier, we're thinking 721-722 BCE with the Assyrian exile which makes us one of the oldest Jewish communities.  MANYA: That's Dr. Saba Soomekh, a professor of world religions and Middle Eastern history and the author of From the Shahs to Los Angeles: Three Generations of Iranian Jewish Women between Religion and Culture. She also serves as associate director of American Jewish Committee in Los Angeles, home to America's largest concentration of Persian Jewish immigrants. Saba's parents fled Iran in 1978, shortly before the revolution, when Saba and her sister were toddlers. She has devoted her career to preserving Iranian Jewish history.   Saba said Zoroastrian rulers until the 7th Century Common Era vacillated between tolerance and persecution of Jews. For example, according to the biblical account in the Book of Ezra, Cyrus the Great freed the Jews from Babylonian rule, granted all of them citizenship, and permitted them to return to Jerusalem to rebuild their Temple.  The Book of Esther goes on to tell the story of another Persian king, believed to be Xerxes I, whose closest adviser called Haman conspires to murder all the Jews – a plot that is foiled by his wife Queen Esther who is Jewish herself. Esther heroically pleads for mercy on behalf of her people – a valor that is celebrated on the Jewish holiday of Purim.  But by the time of the Islamic conquest in the middle of the 7th Century Common Era, the persecution had become so intense that Jews were hopeful about the new Arab Muslim regime, even if that meant being tolerated and treated as second-class citizens, or dhimmi status. But that status had a different interpretation for the Safavids. SABA: Really things didn't get bad for the Jews of the Persian Empire until the 16th century with the Safavid dynasty, because within Shia Islam in the Persian Empire, what they brought with them is this understanding of purity and impurity. And Jews were placed in the same category as dogs, pigs, and feces. They were seen as being religiously impure, what's referred to as najes. MANYA: Jews were placed in ghettos called mahaleh, where they wore yellow stars and special shoes to distinguish them from the rest of the population. They could not leave the mahaleh when it rained for fear that if water rolled off their bodies into the water system, it would render a Shia Muslim impure. For the same reason, they could not go to the bazaars for fear they might contaminate the food. They could not look Muslims in the eye. They were relegated to certain artisanal professions such as silversmithing and block printing – crafts that dirtied one's hands.  MANYA: By the 19th century, some European Jews did make their way to Persia to help. The Alliance Israélite Universelle, a Paris-based network of schools founded by French Jewish intellectuals, opened schools for Jewish children throughout the Middle East and North Africa, including within the mahalehs in Persia.  SABA: They saw themselves as being incredibly sophisticated because they were getting this, in a sense, secular European education, they were speaking French. The idea behind the Allianz schools was exactly that. These poor Middle Eastern Jews, one day the world is going to open up to them, their countries are going to become secular, and we need to prepare them for this, not only within the context of hygiene, but education, language.  And the Allianz schools were right when it came to the Persian Empire because who came into power was Reza Pahlavi, who was a Francophile. And he turned around and said, ‘Wow! Look at the population that speaks French, that knows European philosophy, etc. are the Jews.' He brought them out of the mahaleh, the Jewish ghettos, and said ‘I don't care about religion. Assimilate and acculturate. As long as you show, in a sense, devotion, and nationalism to the Pahlavi regime, which the Jews did—not all Jews—but a majority of them did. MANYA: Reza Pahlavi took control in 1925 and 16 years later, abdicated his throne to his son Muhammad Reza Pahlavi. In 1935, Persia adopted a new name: Iran. As king or the Shah, both father and son set Iran on a course of secularization and rapid modernization under which Jewish life and success seemed to flourish. The only condition was that religious observance was kept behind closed doors. SABA: The idea was that in public, you were secular and in private, you were a Jew. You had Shabbat, you only married a Jew, it was considered blasphemous if you married outside of the Jewish community. And it was happening because people were becoming a part of everyday schools, universities.  But that's why the Jewish day schools became so important. They weren't learning Judaism. What it did was ensure that in a secular Muslim society, that the Jewish kids were marrying within each other and within the community. It was, in a sense, the Golden Age. And that will explain to you why, unlike the early 1950s, where you had this exodus of Mizrahi Jews, Arab Jews from the Arab world and North Africa, you didn't really have that in Iran.  MANYA: In fact, Iran provided a safe passage to Israel for Jewish refugees during that exodus, specifically those fleeing Iraq. The Pahlavi regime considered Israel a critical ally in the face of pan-Arab fervor and hostility in the region. Because of the Arab economic boycott, Israel needed energy sources and Iran needed customers for its oil exports.  A number of Israelis even moved to Tehran, including farmers from kibbutzim who had come to teach agriculture, and doctors and nurses from Hadassah Hospital who had come to teach medicine.  El Al flew in and out of Tehran airport, albeit from a separate terminal. Taking advantage of these warm relations between the two countries, Roya recalls visiting aunts, uncles, and cousins in Israel.  ROYA: We arrived, and my mom and dad did what all visiting Jews from elsewhere do. They dropped to their knees, and they started kissing the ground. I did the same, and it was so moving. Israel was the promised land, we thought about Israel, we dreamed about Israel. But, at the same time, we were Iranians and, and we were living in Iran, and things were good.  This seems to non-Iranian Jews an impossibility. But I think for most of us, it was the way things were. We lived in the country where we had lived for, God knows how many years, and there was this other place that we somehow, in the back of our minds thought we would be going to, without knowing exactly when, but that it would be the destination. MANYA: Relations between the Shah and America flourished as well. In 1951, a hugely popular politician by the name of Mohammad Mosaddegh became prime minister and tried to institute reforms. His attempts to nationalize the oil industry and reduce the monarchy's authority didn't go over well. American and British intelligence backed a coup that restored the Shah's power. Many Iranians resented America's meddling, which became a rallying cry for the revolution. U.S. officials have since expressed regret for the CIA's involvement.  In November 1977, President Jimmy Carter welcomed the Shah and his wife to Washington, D.C., to discuss peace between Egypt and Israel, nuclear nonproliferation, and the energy crisis.  As an extension of these warm relations, the Shah sent many young Iranians to America to enhance their university studies, exposing them to Western ideals and values.  Meanwhile, a savvy fundamentalist cleric was biding his time in a Paris basement. It wouldn't be long before relations crumbled between Iran and Israel, Iran and the U.S,. and Iran and its Jews.  Roya recalls the Hakakian house at the corner of Alley of the Distinguished in Tehran as a lush oasis surrounded by fragrant flowers, full of her father's poetry, and brimming with family memories. Located in the heart of a trendy neighborhood, across the street from the Shah's charity organization, the tall juniper trees, fragrant honeysuckle, and gold mezuzah mounted on the door frame set it apart from the rest of the homes.  Roya's father, Haghnazar, was a poet and a respected headmaster at a Hebrew school. Roya, which means dream in Persian, was a budding poet herself with the typical hopes and dreams of a Jewish teenage girl.  ROYA: Prior to the revolution, life in an average Tehran Hebrew Day School looked very much like life in a Hebrew Day School anywhere else. In the afternoons we had all Hebrew and Jewish studies. We used to put on a Purim show every year. I wanted to be Esther. I never got to be Esther. We had emissaries, I think a couple of years, from Israel, who came to teach us how to do Israeli folk dance. MANYA: There were moments when Roya recalls feeling self-conscious about her Jewishness, particularly at Passover. That's when the family spent two weeks cleaning, demonstrating they weren't najes, or dirty Jews. The work was rewarded when the house filled with the fragrance of cumin and saffron and Persian dishes flowed from the kitchen, including apple and plum beef stew, tarragon veal balls stuffed with raisins, and rice garnished with currants and slivers of almonds.  When her oldest brother Alberto left to study in America, a little fact-finding work on Roya's part revealed that his departure wasn't simply the pursuit of a promising opportunity. As a talented cartoonist whose work had been showcased during an exhibition in Tehran, his family feared Alberto's pen might have gone too far, offending the Pahlavi regime and drawing the attention of the Shah's secret police.  Reports of repression, rapid modernization, the wide gap between Tehran's rich and the rest of the country's poor, and a feeling that Iranians weren't in control of their own destiny all became ingredients for a revolution, stoked by an exiled cleric named Ruhollah Khomeini who was recording cassette tapes in a Paris basement and circulating them back home.  SABA: He would just sit there and go on and on for hours, going against the Shah and West toxification. And then the recordings ended up in Iran. He wasn't even in Iran until the Shah left. MANYA: Promises of democracy and equality galvanized Iranians of all ages to overthrow the Shah in February 1979. Even the CIA was surprised.  SABA: I think a lot of people didn't believe it. Because number one, the Shah, the son, was getting the most amount of military equipment from the United States than anyone in the Middle East and in the Persian Gulf. And the idea was: you protect us in the Gulf, and we will give you whatever you need. So they never thought that a man with a beard down to his knee was able to overthrow this regime that was being propped up and supported by America, and also the Europeans. Khomeini comes in and represents himself as a person for everyone. And he was brilliant in the way he spoke about it. And the reason why this revolution was also successful was that it wasn't just religious people who supported Khomeini, there was this concept you had, the men with the turbans, meaning the religious people, and the you know, the bow ties or the ties, meaning the secular man, a lot of them who were sent by the Shah abroad to Europe and America to get an education, who came back, saw democracy there, and wanted it for their country.  MANYA: Very few of the revolutionaries could predict that Tehran was headed in the opposite direction and was about to revert to 16th Century Shia Islamic rule. For almost a year, Tehran and the rest of the nation were swept up in revolutionary euphoria.  Roya recalls how the flag remained green, white, and red, but an Allah insignia replaced its old sword-bearing lion. New currency was printed, with portraits bearing beards and turbans. An ode to Khomeini became the new national anthem. While the Shah had escaped on an Air France flight, corpses of his henchmen graced the front pages of newspapers alongside smiling executioners. All celebrated, until the day one of the corpses was Habib Elghanian, the Jewish philanthropist who supported all of Iran's Hebrew schools. Charged and convicted as a Zionist spy.  Elders in the community remembered the insurmountable accusations of blood libel during darker times for Iran's Jews. But younger generations like Roya's, who had not lived through the eras of more ruthless antisemitism and persecution, continued to root for the revolution, regardless of its victims. Meanwhile, Roya's Jewish day school was taken over by a new veiled headmistress who replaced Hebrew lessons with other kinds of religious instruction, and required robes and headscarves for all the students.  ROYA: In the afternoons, from then on, we used to have lessons in a series of what she called: ‘Is religion something that you inherit, or is it something that you choose?' And so I think the intention, clearly, was to convince us that we didn't need to inherit our religions from our parents and ancestors, that we ought to consider better choices. MANYA: But when the headmistress cut short the eight-day Passover break, that was the last straw for Roya and her classmates. Their revolt got her expelled from school.  Though Jews did not universally support Khomeini, some saw themselves as members of the Iranian Communist, or Tudeh Party. They opposed the Shah and the human rights abuses of his monarchy and cautiously considered Khomeini the better option, or at least the lesser of two evils. Alarmed by the developments such as Elghanian's execution and changes like the ones at Roya's school, Jewish community leaders traveled to the Shia holy city of Qom to assure the Supreme Leader of their loyalty to Iran.  SABA: They did this because they wanted to make sure that they protected the Jewish community that was left in Iran. Khomeini made that distinction: ‘I am not against Jews, I'm against Zionists. You could be Jewish in this country. You cannot be a Zionist in this country.'  MANYA: But that wasn't the only change. Right away, the Family Protection Law was reversed, lifting a law against polygamy, giving men full rights in divorce and custody, and lowering the marriage age for girls to nine. Women were banned from serving as judges, and beaches and sports events were segregated by gender.  But it took longer to shut down universities, albeit for only two years, segregate public schools by gender, and stone to death women who were found to have committed adultery. Though Khomeini was certainly proving that he was not the man he promised to be, he backed away from those promises gradually – one brutal crackdown at a time. As a result, the trickle of Jews out of Iran was slow.  ROYA: My father thought, let's wait a few years and see what happens. In retrospect, I think the overwhelming reason was probably that nobody believed that things had changed, and so drastically. It seemed so unbelievable. I mean, a country that had been under monarchy for 2,500 years, couldn't simply see it all go and have a whole new system put in place, especially when it was such a radical shift from what had been there before. So I think, in many ways, we were among the unbelievers, or at least my father was, we thought it could never be, it would not happen. My father proved to be wrong, nothing changed for the better, and the conditions continued to deteriorate. So, so much catastrophe happened in those few years that Iran just simply was steeped into a very dark, intense, and period of political radicalism and also, all sorts of economic shortages and pressures. And so the five years that we were left behind, that we stayed back, changed our perspective on so many things. MANYA: In November 1979, a group of radical university students who supported the Iranian Revolution, took over the U.S. Embassy in Tehran, seized hostages, and held them for 444 days until President Ronald Reagan's inauguration on January 20, 1981. During the hostages' captivity, Iraqi President Saddam Hussein invaded Iran. The conflict that ensued for eight years created shortages on everything from dairy products to sanitary napkins. Mosques became distribution centers for rations. ROYA: We stood in line for hours and hours for eggs, and just the very basic things of daily life. And then it became also clear that religious minorities, including Jews, would no longer be enjoying the same privileges as everyone else. There were bombings that kept coming closer and closer to Tehran, which is where we lived. It was very clear that half of my family that was in the United States could not and would not return, because they were boys who would have been conscripted to go to war. Everything had just come apart in a way that was inconceivable to think that they would change for the better again. MANYA: By 1983, new laws had been passed instituting Islamic dress for all women – violations of which earned a penalty of 74 lashes. Other laws imposed an Islamic morality code that barred co-ed gatherings. Roya and her friends found refuge in the sterile office building that housed the Jewish Iranian Students Association. But she soon figured out that the regime hadn't allowed it to remain for the benefit of the Jewish community. It functioned more like a ghetto to keep Jews off the streets and out of their way. Even the activities that previously gave her comfort were marred by the regime. Poetry books were redacted. Mountain hiking trails were arbitrarily closed to mourn the deaths of countless clerics.  SABA: Slowly what they realize, when Khomeini gained power, was that he was not the person that he claimed to be. He was not this feminist, if anything, all this misogynistic rule came in, and a lot of people realize they, in a sense, got duped and he stole the revolution from them. MANYA: By 1984, the war with Iraq had entered its fourth year. But it was no longer about protecting Iran from Saddam Hussein. Now the Ayatollah wanted to conquer Baghdad, then Jerusalem where he aspired to deliver a sermon from the Temple Mount. Meanwhile, Muslim soldiers wounded in the war chose to bleed rather than receive treatment from Jewish doctors. Boys as young as 12 – regardless of faith – were drafted and sent on suicide missions to open the way for Iranian troops to do battle.  SABA: They were basically used as an army of children that the bombs would detonate, their parents would get a plastic key that was the key to heaven. And the bombs would detonate, and then the army would come in Iranian army would come in. And so that's when a lot of the Persian parents, the Jewish parents freaked out. And that's when they were like: we're getting out of here.  MANYA: By this time, the Hakakian family had moved into a rented apartment building and Roya was attending the neighborhood school. Non-Muslim students were required to take Koran classes and could only use designated water fountains and bathrooms.  As a precaution, Roya's father submitted their passports for renewal. Her mother's application was denied; Roya's passport was held for further consideration; her father's was confiscated.  One night, Roya returned home to find her father burning her books and journals on the balcony of their building. The bonfire of words was for the best, he told her. And at long last, so was leaving. With the help of the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society, Roya and her mother, Helen, fled to Geneva, and after wandering in Europe for several months, eventually reunited with her brothers in the United States. Roya did not see her father again for five years. Still unable to acquire a passport, he was smuggled out of Iran into Pakistan, on foot.  ROYA: My eldest brother left to come to America in the mid-70s. There was a crack in the body of the family then. But then came 1979, and my two other brothers followed. And so we were apart for all those very, very formative years. And then, in 1984, when my mother and I left and my father was left alone in Iran, that was yet another major dramatic and traumatic separation. So, you know, it's interesting that when I look back at the events of 1979, I think, people constantly think about the revolution having, in some ways, blown up Tehran, but it also blew up families. And my own family was among them.  MANYA: While her father's arrival in America was delayed, Roya describes her arrival in stages. She first arrived as a Jewish refugee in 1985 and found her place doing what she had always done – writing in Persian – rebuilding a body of work that had been reduced to ashes.  ROYA: As a teen I had become a writer, people were encouraging me. So, I continued to do it. It was the thing I knew how to do. And it gave me a sense of grounding and identity. So, I kept on doing it, and it kind of worked its magic, as I suppose good writing does for all writers. It connected me to a new community of people who read Persian and who appreciated what I was trying to do. And I found that with each book that I write, I find a new tribe for myself.  MANYA: She arrived again once she learned English. In her first year at Brooklyn College, she tape-recorded her professors to listen again later. She eventually took a course with renowned poet Allen Ginsberg, whose poetry was best known for its condemnation of persecution and imperial politics and whose 1950s poem “Howl” tested the boundaries of America's freedom of speech.  ROYA: When I mastered the language enough to feel comfortable to be a writer once more, then I found a footing and through Allen and a community of literary people that I met here began to kind of foresee a possibility of writing in English. MANYA: There was also her arrival to an American Jewish community that was largely unaware of the role Jews played in shaping Iran long before the advent of Islam. Likewise, they were just as unaware of the role Iran played in shaping ancient Jewish life. They were oblivious to the community's traditions, and the indignities and abuses Iranian Jews had suffered, continue to suffer, with other religious minorities to keep those traditions alive in their homeland.   ROYA: People would say, ‘Oh, you have an accent, where are you from?' I would say, ‘Iran,' and the Jews at the synagogue would say, ‘Are there Jews in Iran?' MANYA: In Roya's most recent book A Beginner's Guide to America, a sequel of sorts to her memoir, she reflects on the lessons learned and the observations made once she arrived in the U.S. She counsels newcomers to take their time answering what might at first seem like an ominous or loaded question. Here's an excerpt: ROYA: “In the early days after your arrival, “Where are you from?” is above all a reminder of your unpreparedness to speak of the past. You have yet to shape your story – what you saw, why you left, how you left, and what it took to get here. This narrative is your personal Book of Genesis: the American Volume, the one you will sooner or later pen, in the mind, if not on the page. You must take your time to do it well and do it justice.” MANYA: No two immigrants' experiences are the same, she writes. The only thing they all have in common is that they have been uprooted and the stories of their displacement have been hijacked by others' assumptions and agendas. ROYA: I witnessed, as so many other Iranian Jews witness, that the story of how we came, why we came, who we had been, was being narrated by those who had a certain partisan perspective about what the history of what Jewish people should be, or how this history needs to be cast, for whatever purposes they had. And I would see that our own recollections of what had happened were being shaded by, or filtered through views other than our own, or facts other than our own. MANYA: As we wrap up this sixth and final episode of the first season of The Forgotten Exodus, it is clear that the same can be said about the stories of the Jewish people. No two tales are the same. Jews have lived everywhere, and there are reasons why they don't anymore. Some fled as refugees. Some embarked as dreamers. Some forged ahead without looking back. Others counted the days until they could return home. What ties them together is their courage, perseverance, and resilience–whether they hailed from Eastern Europe, North Africa, the Middle East, or parts beyond. These six episodes offer only a handful of those stories–shaped by memories and experiences. ROYA: That became sort of an additional incentive, if not burden for me to, to be a witness for several communities, to tell the story of what happened in Iran for American audiences, to Jews, to non-Iranian Jews who didn't realize that there were Jews in Iran, but also to record the history, according to how I had witnessed it, for ourselves, to make sure that it goes down, as I knew it. MANYA: Iranian Jews are just one of the many Jewish communities who in the last century left their homes in the Middle East to forge new lives for themselves and future generations.  Many thanks to Roya for sharing her family's story and for helping us wrap up this season of The Forgotten Exodus. If you're listening for the first time, check out our previous episodes on Jews from Iraq, Yemen, Egypt, Libya, and Sudan. Go to ajc.org/theforgottenexodus where you'll also find transcripts, show notes, and family photos. There are still so many stories to tell. Stay tuned in coming months. Does your family have roots in North Africa or the Middle East? One of the goals of this series is to make sure we gather these stories before they are lost. Too many times during my reporting, I encountered children and grandchildren who didn't have the answers to my questions because they never asked. That's why one of the goals of this project is to encourage you to find more of these stories.  Call The Forgotten Exodus hotline. Tell us where your family is from and something you'd like for our listeners to know such as how you've tried to keep the traditions and memories alive. Call 212.891.1336 and leave a message of 2 minutes or less. Be sure to leave your name and where you live now. You can also send an email to theforgottenexodus@ajc.org and we'll be in touch. Tune in every Friday for AJC's weekly podcast about global affairs through a Jewish lens, People of the Pod, brought to you by the same team behind The Forgotten Exodus.  Atara Lakritz is our producer, CucHuong Do is our production manager. T.K. Broderick is our sound engineer. Special thanks to Jon Schweitzer, Sean Savage, Ian Kaplan, and so many of our colleagues, too many to name, for making this series possible. And extra special thanks to David Harris, who has been a constant champion for making sure these stories do not remain untold. You can follow The Forgotten Exodus on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts, and you can sign up to receive updates at AJC.org/forgottenexodussignup. The views and opinions of our guests don't necessarily reflect the positions of AJC.  You can reach us at theforgottenexodus@ajc.org. If you've enjoyed the episode, please be sure to spread the word, and hop onto Apple Podcasts to rate us and write a review to help more listeners find us.

It's a little-known fact that the first Jews in Canada were actually Sephardim, founders of the Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue in Montreal in 1768. Over subsequent years, Ashkenazi Jews would follow from Europe, becoming the dominant Jewish culture; it wasn't until the mid-20th century that Middle Eastern Jews arrived to add their own contributions to the Canadian Jewish mosaic. The often quiet history of Sephardic contributions to Jewish culture—not just in Canada, but in Israel, the United States and elsewhere as well—is the focus of a new book and digital-preservation project called Sephardi Voices, spearheaded by Henry Green, a professor of Judaic and religious studies at the University of Miami and the founding director of the Jewish Museum of Florida. In partnership with the Canadian Race Relations Foundation, we invited Green to share stories and insight into the Sephardi world in Canada and beyond for the first-ever live virtual taping of Bonjour Chai. Plus, we get to know Mohammed Hashim, the executive director of the CRRF, who outlines his organization's work, paths toward a more comfortable dialogue between pro-Israel and pro-Palestine Canadians, and what his favourite kosher restaurant is. Later, David and Ilana actor-splain why Jewish representation matters in film and television, and what it was like working on Jewish theatre shows this year. Credits Bonjour Chai is hosted by Avi Finegold, Ilana Zackon and David Sklar. Michael Fraiman is the producer. Andre Goulet is the technical producer. Our theme music is by Socalled. The show is a co-production from The Jewish Learning Lab and The CJN, and is distributed by The CJN Podcast Network. To learn how to support the show by subscribing to this podcast, please watch this video.

In the late 1940's and early 1950's, thousands of Middle Eastern Jews left their countries of origin and moved to Israel, among them, the Jews of Yemen. About the Yemenite Jews there is a myth, believed by some in Israel and around the world, that upon their arrival, hundreds of their children were taken from them by government officials, without their consent, and placed for adoption in the homes of Ashkenazi Israelis. It would be a grave injustice if that were true, but according to this week's podcast guest, it isn't. Motti Inbari is a professor of religion who specializes in unusual Israeli social and religious movements. In a new essay, he reviews several recent Hebrew-language books that look at the history, the evidence, and the surprising mutations of the so-called Yemenite Children Affair. In conversation with Mosaic's editor Jonathan Silver, he explains what really happened and charts how the myth has evolved over time.  Musical selections in this podcast are drawn from the Quintet for Clarinet and Strings, op. 31a, composed by Paul Ben-Haim and performed by the ARC Ensemble.

The Palestine national movement is left reeling after the rebellion is crushed by the British and Yishuv. The Zionist movements strategy of simultaneously collaborating with and subverting the British is paying off, as the British provide training and combat experience to the same militias that will soon wage war to drive them out. Meanwhile, Middle Eastern Jews are failing in their decades long effort to mediate peace between the settlers and the indigenous population. Palestinian attacks on Jews are no longer differentiating between Middle Eastern Jews and the European settlers. These Jews, long denied leadership positions within the Yishuv, are increasingly welcomed into the Zionist movement as spies and terrorists. As the British abandon Palestine, the Yishuv acts swiftly to establish a fortress state of Jewish hegemony. The Movements is a leftist history and politics podcast. Transcripts may be requested for accessibility reasons by e-mailing movementspod@gmail.com. Find us on facebook and twitter @movementspod and support the show by donating at https://www.patreon.com/movementspodSupport the show (https://www.patreon.com/movementspod)

Palestine is erupting and the British struggle to maintain control. While the Jewish economy rapidly develops, the fellahin move to the cities as wage laborers in greater numbers. Working class Palestinians and Middle Eastern Jews co-habitate in mixed cities, but the political struggle between the Zionist settlers and the Palestinian masses is becoming increasingly vicious. The efforts to mediate between European Jews and the non-Jewish Palestinians are failing, as Palestinian capital looks to Europe for an ally against the British and Jews. Suddenly, the Palestinian masses rise up and rapidly build a sustained, long-term rebellion. The Haganah align themselves with the British to put down an indigenous uprising as the Yishuv begins making preparations for a mass “transfer” of Palestinians out of Palestine. The Movements is a leftist history and politics podcast. Support the show at paypal.me/movementspodcast. Find us on facebook and twitter @movementspod. E-mail movementspod@gamil.com. Transcript may be provided for accessibility purposes.Support the show (https://www.patreon.com/movementspod)

Much of the existing literature on Mandatory Palestine adheres to a dual society model which assumes that the Palestinian Arab community and the Jewish Yishuv had separate economic, social, and cultural systems, and that interaction between them was quite limited. In their new book, Oriental Neighbors: Middle Eastern Jews and Arabs in Mandatory Palestine (Brandeis UP, 2016), Abigail Jacobson and Moshe Naor focus on Sephardic and Middle Eastern Jews in order to challenge this model. As power shifted away from the traditional politics of notables, Sephardic and Oriental Jews attempted to position themselves as the ideal mediators between Jewish and Arab societies. Oriental Neighbors examines these attempts in the political and cultural spheres, in mixed neighborhoods, and in the security arena, to highlight Middle Eastern Jewish-Palestine interaction as a site of both cooperation and conflict. In doing so, this book calls the dual society model into question, integrates the history of Palestine into that of the greater Middle East, and makes a valuable contribution to the literatures of Middle Eastern and Israeli history. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Much of the existing literature on Mandatory Palestine adheres to a dual society model which assumes that the Palestinian Arab community and the Jewish Yishuv had separate economic, social, and cultural systems, and that interaction between them was quite limited. In their new book, Oriental Neighbors: Middle Eastern Jews and Arabs in Mandatory Palestine (Brandeis UP, 2016), Abigail Jacobson and Moshe Naor focus on Sephardic and Middle Eastern Jews in order to challenge this model. As power shifted away from the traditional politics of notables, Sephardic and Oriental Jews attempted to position themselves as the ideal mediators between Jewish and Arab societies. Oriental Neighbors examines these attempts in the political and cultural spheres, in mixed neighborhoods, and in the security arena, to highlight Middle Eastern Jewish-Palestine interaction as a site of both cooperation and conflict. In doing so, this book calls the dual society model into question, integrates the history of Palestine into that of the greater Middle East, and makes a valuable contribution to the literatures of Middle Eastern and Israeli history. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Much of the existing literature on Mandatory Palestine adheres to a dual society model which assumes that the Palestinian Arab community and the Jewish Yishuv had separate economic, social, and cultural systems, and that interaction between them was quite limited. In their new book, Oriental Neighbors: Middle Eastern Jews and Arabs in Mandatory Palestine (Brandeis UP, 2016), Abigail Jacobson and Moshe Naor focus on Sephardic and Middle Eastern Jews in order to challenge this model. As power shifted away from the traditional politics of notables, Sephardic and Oriental Jews attempted to position themselves as the ideal mediators between Jewish and Arab societies. Oriental Neighbors examines these attempts in the political and cultural spheres, in mixed neighborhoods, and in the security arena, to highlight Middle Eastern Jewish-Palestine interaction as a site of both cooperation and conflict. In doing so, this book calls the dual society model into question, integrates the history of Palestine into that of the greater Middle East, and makes a valuable contribution to the literatures of Middle Eastern and Israeli history. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Much of the existing literature on Mandatory Palestine adheres to a dual society model which assumes that the Palestinian Arab community and the Jewish Yishuv had separate economic, social, and cultural systems, and that interaction between them was quite limited. In their new book, Oriental Neighbors: Middle Eastern Jews and Arabs in Mandatory Palestine (Brandeis UP, 2016), Abigail Jacobson and Moshe Naor focus on Sephardic and Middle Eastern Jews in order to challenge this model. As power shifted away from the traditional politics of notables, Sephardic and Oriental Jews attempted to position themselves as the ideal mediators between Jewish and Arab societies. Oriental Neighbors examines these attempts in the political and cultural spheres, in mixed neighborhoods, and in the security arena, to highlight Middle Eastern Jewish-Palestine interaction as a site of both cooperation and conflict. In doing so, this book calls the dual society model into question, integrates the history of Palestine into that of the greater Middle East, and makes a valuable contribution to the literatures of Middle Eastern and Israeli history. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Much of the existing literature on Mandatory Palestine adheres to a dual society model which assumes that the Palestinian Arab community and the Jewish Yishuv had separate economic, social, and cultural systems, and that interaction between them was quite limited. In their new book, Oriental Neighbors: Middle Eastern Jews and Arabs in Mandatory Palestine (Brandeis UP, 2016), Abigail Jacobson and Moshe Naor focus on Sephardic and Middle Eastern Jews in order to challenge this model. As power shifted away from the traditional politics of notables, Sephardic and Oriental Jews attempted to position themselves as the ideal mediators between Jewish and Arab societies. Oriental Neighbors examines these attempts in the political and cultural spheres, in mixed neighborhoods, and in the security arena, to highlight Middle Eastern Jewish-Palestine interaction as a site of both cooperation and conflict. In doing so, this book calls the dual society model into question, integrates the history of Palestine into that of the greater Middle East, and makes a valuable contribution to the literatures of Middle Eastern and Israeli history. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Much of the existing literature on Mandatory Palestine adheres to a dual society model which assumes that the Palestinian Arab community and the Jewish Yishuv had separate economic, social, and cultural systems, and that interaction between them was quite limited. In their new book, Oriental Neighbors: Middle Eastern Jews and Arabs in Mandatory Palestine (Brandeis UP, 2016), Abigail Jacobson and Moshe Naor focus on Sephardic and Middle Eastern Jews in order to challenge this model. As power shifted away from the traditional politics of notables, Sephardic and Oriental Jews attempted to position themselves as the ideal mediators between Jewish and Arab societies. Oriental Neighbors examines these attempts in the political and cultural spheres, in mixed neighborhoods, and in the security arena, to highlight Middle Eastern Jewish-Palestine interaction as a site of both cooperation and conflict. In doing so, this book calls the dual society model into question, integrates the history of Palestine into that of the greater Middle East, and makes a valuable contribution to the literatures of Middle Eastern and Israeli history. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Since the beginning of the 20th century, Jewish settlement in Palestine and the revival of Hebrew as a national language have profoundly impacted the relationship between Arabic and Hebrew. In a highly contentious political environment, the two languages have been identified with opposing national movements – Hebrew associated with Jews and Arabic with Palestinians. Lital Levy’s book destabilizes this categorization. Highlighting the space between these two languages, Levy asks not what it means to be Israeli or Palestinian, but rather how crossing the bridge between the two remakes Israeli and Palestinian cultures. Focusing on the work of Middle Eastern Jews writing in Arabic and various kinds of Hebrews, and Palestinians writing in Hebrew, Poetic Trespass: Writing Between Hebrew and Arabic in Israel/Palestine (Princeton University Press, 2014) reveals a literary world in which Arabic and Hebrew have a symbiotic relationship. Through her analysis of prose, poetry, film, and visual art by Palestinian and Jewish citizens of Israel, Levy shows us how writers bring Arabic and Hebrew into conversation with one another in illuminating, and often subversive, ways. These writers use the language of the “other” to question “othering” and insist that literature interrogate simplistic identity classifications. Jews writing in Arabic or mizrahi registers of Hebrew cannot but challenge a nationalist project that depends, in part, on the nationalization of Hebrew. Likewise, Palestinians writing in Hebrew use the power of language to disrupt Zionism, which excludes them as non-Jews, from within. Bring the work of several generations of authors to light, Poetic Trespass call on readers to use the power of literature to question our own assumptions and to rethink the static categories of Arab and Jew. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Since the beginning of the 20th century, Jewish settlement in Palestine and the revival of Hebrew as a national language have profoundly impacted the relationship between Arabic and Hebrew. In a highly contentious political environment, the two languages have been identified with opposing national movements – Hebrew associated with Jews and Arabic with Palestinians. Lital Levy’s book destabilizes this categorization. Highlighting the space between these two languages, Levy asks not what it means to be Israeli or Palestinian, but rather how crossing the bridge between the two remakes Israeli and Palestinian cultures. Focusing on the work of Middle Eastern Jews writing in Arabic and various kinds of Hebrews, and Palestinians writing in Hebrew, Poetic Trespass: Writing Between Hebrew and Arabic in Israel/Palestine (Princeton University Press, 2014) reveals a literary world in which Arabic and Hebrew have a symbiotic relationship. Through her analysis of prose, poetry, film, and visual art by Palestinian and Jewish citizens of Israel, Levy shows us how writers bring Arabic and Hebrew into conversation with one another in illuminating, and often subversive, ways. These writers use the language of the “other” to question “othering” and insist that literature interrogate simplistic identity classifications. Jews writing in Arabic or mizrahi registers of Hebrew cannot but challenge a nationalist project that depends, in part, on the nationalization of Hebrew. Likewise, Palestinians writing in Hebrew use the power of language to disrupt Zionism, which excludes them as non-Jews, from within. Bring the work of several generations of authors to light, Poetic Trespass call on readers to use the power of literature to question our own assumptions and to rethink the static categories of Arab and Jew. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Since the beginning of the 20th century, Jewish settlement in Palestine and the revival of Hebrew as a national language have profoundly impacted the relationship between Arabic and Hebrew. In a highly contentious political environment, the two languages have been identified with opposing national movements – Hebrew associated with Jews and Arabic with Palestinians. Lital Levy’s book destabilizes this categorization. Highlighting the space between these two languages, Levy asks not what it means to be Israeli or Palestinian, but rather how crossing the bridge between the two remakes Israeli and Palestinian cultures. Focusing on the work of Middle Eastern Jews writing in Arabic and various kinds of Hebrews, and Palestinians writing in Hebrew, Poetic Trespass: Writing Between Hebrew and Arabic in Israel/Palestine (Princeton University Press, 2014) reveals a literary world in which Arabic and Hebrew have a symbiotic relationship. Through her analysis of prose, poetry, film, and visual art by Palestinian and Jewish citizens of Israel, Levy shows us how writers bring Arabic and Hebrew into conversation with one another in illuminating, and often subversive, ways. These writers use the language of the “other” to question “othering” and insist that literature interrogate simplistic identity classifications. Jews writing in Arabic or mizrahi registers of Hebrew cannot but challenge a nationalist project that depends, in part, on the nationalization of Hebrew. Likewise, Palestinians writing in Hebrew use the power of language to disrupt Zionism, which excludes them as non-Jews, from within. Bring the work of several generations of authors to light, Poetic Trespass call on readers to use the power of literature to question our own assumptions and to rethink the static categories of Arab and Jew. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Since the beginning of the 20th century, Jewish settlement in Palestine and the revival of Hebrew as a national language have profoundly impacted the relationship between Arabic and Hebrew. In a highly contentious political environment, the two languages have been identified with opposing national movements – Hebrew associated with Jews and Arabic with Palestinians. Lital Levy’s book destabilizes this categorization. Highlighting the space between these two languages, Levy asks not what it means to be Israeli or Palestinian, but rather how crossing the bridge between the two remakes Israeli and Palestinian cultures. Focusing on the work of Middle Eastern Jews writing in Arabic and various kinds of Hebrews, and Palestinians writing in Hebrew, Poetic Trespass: Writing Between Hebrew and Arabic in Israel/Palestine (Princeton University Press, 2014) reveals a literary world in which Arabic and Hebrew have a symbiotic relationship. Through her analysis of prose, poetry, film, and visual art by Palestinian and Jewish citizens of Israel, Levy shows us how writers bring Arabic and Hebrew into conversation with one another in illuminating, and often subversive, ways. These writers use the language of the “other” to question “othering” and insist that literature interrogate simplistic identity classifications. Jews writing in Arabic or mizrahi registers of Hebrew cannot but challenge a nationalist project that depends, in part, on the nationalization of Hebrew. Likewise, Palestinians writing in Hebrew use the power of language to disrupt Zionism, which excludes them as non-Jews, from within. Bring the work of several generations of authors to light, Poetic Trespass call on readers to use the power of literature to question our own assumptions and to rethink the static categories of Arab and Jew. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Since the beginning of the 20th century, Jewish settlement in Palestine and the revival of Hebrew as a national language have profoundly impacted the relationship between Arabic and Hebrew. In a highly contentious political environment, the two languages have been identified with opposing national movements – Hebrew associated with Jews and Arabic with Palestinians. Lital Levy’s book destabilizes this categorization. Highlighting the space between these two languages, Levy asks not what it means to be Israeli or Palestinian, but rather how crossing the bridge between the two remakes Israeli and Palestinian cultures. Focusing on the work of Middle Eastern Jews writing in Arabic and various kinds of Hebrews, and Palestinians writing in Hebrew, Poetic Trespass: Writing Between Hebrew and Arabic in Israel/Palestine (Princeton University Press, 2014) reveals a literary world in which Arabic and Hebrew have a symbiotic relationship. Through her analysis of prose, poetry, film, and visual art by Palestinian and Jewish citizens of Israel, Levy shows us how writers bring Arabic and Hebrew into conversation with one another in illuminating, and often subversive, ways. These writers use the language of the “other” to question “othering” and insist that literature interrogate simplistic identity classifications. Jews writing in Arabic or mizrahi registers of Hebrew cannot but challenge a nationalist project that depends, in part, on the nationalization of Hebrew. Likewise, Palestinians writing in Hebrew use the power of language to disrupt Zionism, which excludes them as non-Jews, from within. Bring the work of several generations of authors to light, Poetic Trespass call on readers to use the power of literature to question our own assumptions and to rethink the static categories of Arab and Jew. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Since the beginning of the 20th century, Jewish settlement in Palestine and the revival of Hebrew as a national language have profoundly impacted the relationship between Arabic and Hebrew. In a highly contentious political environment, the two languages have been identified with opposing national movements – Hebrew associated with Jews and Arabic with Palestinians. Lital Levy’s book destabilizes this categorization. Highlighting the space between these two languages, Levy asks not what it means to be Israeli or Palestinian, but rather how crossing the bridge between the two remakes Israeli and Palestinian cultures. Focusing on the work of Middle Eastern Jews writing in Arabic and various kinds of Hebrews, and Palestinians writing in Hebrew, Poetic Trespass: Writing Between Hebrew and Arabic in Israel/Palestine (Princeton University Press, 2014) reveals a literary world in which Arabic and Hebrew have a symbiotic relationship. Through her analysis of prose, poetry, film, and visual art by Palestinian and Jewish citizens of Israel, Levy shows us how writers bring Arabic and Hebrew into conversation with one another in illuminating, and often subversive, ways. These writers use the language of the “other” to question “othering” and insist that literature interrogate simplistic identity classifications. Jews writing in Arabic or mizrahi registers of Hebrew cannot but challenge a nationalist project that depends, in part, on the nationalization of Hebrew. Likewise, Palestinians writing in Hebrew use the power of language to disrupt Zionism, which excludes them as non-Jews, from within. Bring the work of several generations of authors to light, Poetic Trespass call on readers to use the power of literature to question our own assumptions and to rethink the static categories of Arab and Jew. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices