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My samovar, which now sits in the center of my living room, always rested on a little table in the corner of my parents’ dining room. It’s a no-nonsense peasant... Read more »
Confronting generational tensions to build a badass Jewish feminist future. What a breast cancer previvor has to do. This samovar serves only stories. Finding serenity in a convent. My Bukharian mother sold herself into marriage. Summer fiction.
Table of contents Get the issueMy samovar, which now sits in the center of my living room, always rested on a little table in the corner of my parents’ dining room. It’s a no-nonsense peasant... Read more »
We were leaving again. Fleeing. This time from Megève, a pretty little town in the Alps, near the Swiss border. We took some buses and trains, my mother deciding finally... Read more »
I am sitting beside my mother’s bed where she now spends all her days, hearing the story of her betrothal for the very last time. Her apartment is on Tchernichovsky... Read more »
In the beginning was the nostalgia. That is to say, it started with the end. With memories, anecdotes, old photographs, wafts, vapors. That was the part of Odessa that was... Read more »
Cancer runs in my father’s family. Around the time I was born, cancer swept through my paternal grandmother’s generation, leaving no women behind. Among its victims was my grandmother, Hadassah... Read more »
Einat gazes at her younger sister fiddling with the CD player, trying to find the right song to match the mood of the day. As if the right background music... Read more »
In the kitchen, Ziva peered through the oven window. Back when her mother made cookies, ovens didn’t have windows. Her mother would have to open the door and take a... Read more »
Zach pilfered an issue of New York magazine from the dentist’s waiting room and answered every ad in the “Women Seeking Men” columns that included the words “Single Jewish... Read more »
Some days I long for the mama-loshen the secret words in my bones my grandpa smoking in the arm chair kvetching about the shmucks in the government and the dreck... Read more »
Watching “Mary Poppins” with my four-year-old daughter one Sunday, I realized how the most remembered songs from that titan of childhood cinema have less to do with women’s rights and... Read more »