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T H E J E W I S H Q U A R T E R LY R E V I E W , Vol. 94, No. 1 (Winter 2004) 811 JEFFREY SHANDLER O N A F R ID AY in early August 1982, my classmates and I in the YIVO/ Columbia Summer Yiddish Program had just celebrated our siyemhazman, marking the conclusion of six weeks of intensive study of Yiddish language, literature, and culture. Before heading our separate ways, we gathered in front of the YIVO building at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 86th Street to pose for a picture. As we lined up before the camera, an elderly couple suddenly rushed over to us from out of nowhere and shouted, ``Take our picture! We're Jews, too! We're from the Bronx!'' The photographer, one of the other students in the program, explained to them that this was a class picture and motioned them out of the way, and then we resumed taking our group picture. At the time this seemed to be nothing more than a brief, comically awkward moment. But in thinking about it over the years, I've found it to be a revealing and,
Jewish Quarterly Review – University of Pennsylvania Press
Published: Jan 4, 2004
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