dedication
This book is dedicated to the students who shared their stories with vulnerability and wisdom. In reflecting and sharing your story, you create the opportunity for connection, reminding us of our shared humanity and that people cannot be put in a box.
A special thanks to the Theodore and Maxine Murnick Family and Ron Gubitz, who believed in and helped shape my vision of leveraging visual storytelling to change the status quo. Without their support, these important narratives might have remained untold.
To all who engage with these reflections:
May these portraits continue to serve as mirrors, inviting us to turn inward and examine how we can broaden our perspectives and inspire conversations that will transform today's stories into tomorrow's history.
With deep gratitude, Julia Mattis
Foreword
Launched in 2021, The Portrait Identity Project is a social documentary project that broadens the perception of what it "looks like" to be Jewish. Sharing stories paired with professional portraits, this initiative brings communities together to look, listen, and learn from students as they selfreflect on the intersection of their identities and how their perception of being Jewish has evolved. The Portrait Identity Project brings to light students' experiences of feeling as though they struggled to belong, inviting us to change the narrative by celebrating the many ways to be Jewish.
Participants in the project share their stories by reflecting on a series of interview questions about how Jewish identity intersects with other facets of identity, how one's environment impacts how Judaism is viewed and embraced, and how stereotypes affect how Jewish identity is conveyed or internalized. The interviews create the space for participants to process the full range of their experiences with Judaism, and the project amplifies the voices and experiences of underrepresented Jews.
As one looks, listens, and learns from these narratives, all audiences are encouraged to reflect on how their personal experiences have shaped their identity, reconsider past perceptions, and feel connected as they see themselves in others' stories.
About Tulane Hillel
Tulane Hillel is a nonprofit community center that fosters leadership and community engagement. Our mission is to create a radically inclusive community, develop students’ leadership, and encourage curiosity through our Jewish values.
Tulane Hillel is excited to broaden the scope and impact of the Portrait Identity Project by expanding this meaningful project nationally, ensuring more students and community members across the country can learn, grow, and share their stories.
If you would like to learn more about the Portrait Identity Project and how it would impact your campus and help your organization meet your goals, please get in touch with jmattis@tulane.edu.
For more information, visit tulanehillel.org or find us on Instagram @tuhillel
How to Digest:
As you read each story,
1. Click on each name.
This will open an audio file in Google Drive in a new tab.
2. Click play on the audio file.
3. Listen as each share their story in their voice.
Noa berger she/her
Iwas raised Orthodox, and I will admit that there were some things that I didn't connect with. So, I knew that I wanted to go far away for college to figure my identity out for myself, as I noticed that when things come too quickly to me, I tend not to value them as much. And I wanted the challenge of being able to fight for my identity.”
At Tulane, it's by no means hard to be Jewish, but bringing my Orthodox practices here has been a little bit more complicated. However, being away from home has allowed me to teach others about my Orthodox practices and enjoy them even more.
What's most important to me about embracing Judaism is not as much the physical practices but rather how I carry myself. In Judaism, modesty encourages one to carry oneself with dignity, remain humble, and not seek too much attention. For me, modesty goes beyond just what I wear; it also encompasses how I act and present myself to others. I appreciate this principle and strive to embody it in my daily life. However, embodying this teaching is sometimes difficult as I am an expressive person currently pursuing a theater major. It's challenging to balance my desire for attention on stage with the values I grew up with that emphasize modesty and not calling too much attention to oneself. So I try to hold more of a balance and be expressive when I'm acting, but when I'm in my house, like when I'm not acting or something like that, I try to keep to myself a little more, but it isn't easy.
wanted the challenge of being able to fight for my identity.
Noa berger she/her
One of the interactions I struggle with most is when people say, 'You don't look Jewish' or 'Oh, yeah, of course, you're Jewish.' When people act shocked if I say I'm Jewish, it hurts because it seems like they're saying that they don't see those Jewish values in me, and that counteracts all the effort I've put into it. And it's just crazy that these stereotypes of what a Jewish person looks like still exist.
One of the interactions I struggle with most is when people say, 'You don't look Jewish' or 'Oh, yeah, of course, you're Jewish.'
Specific American Jewish experiences seem like the norm, like going to a Jewish summer camp or having a big bat mitzvah party, but I never went to a Jewish summer camp, and my bat mitzvah was small. It was more about the meaning of a mitzvah than a party. So when those around me talk about stuff like that, I feel left out, but it's important to think about how no two people will experience religion similarly. I've encountered people who feel like they're 'bad' at practicing Judaism because they don't adhere to certain customs or practices. However, it's essential to remember that everyone's experience is valid, and there's no right or wrong way to practice. Ultimately, I believe it's necessary to experience Judaism in your own way and not compare it to
I've encountered people who feel like they're 'bad' at practicing Judaism because they don't adhere to certain customs or practices. However, it's essential to remember that everyone's experience is valid, and there's no right or wrong way to practice.
Abby Bix
They/them
My parents came from different religious backgrounds—my dad Jewish, my mom Christian— but they've identified as atheists since before I was born. Despite this, I've always felt strongly connected and proud of my Jewish heritage.
Growing up in College Station, Texas, where the Jewish population was small, I stood out. Even as a young child in elementary school, I would eagerly share that my dad was Jewish. This aspect of my identity felt special and exciting, though it sometimes alienated me from peers who saw me as different.
These experiences haven't affected how I internalize being Jewish because I refuse to let negative stereotypes from others impact how I exist. That is my ultimate goal, even though it can sometimes be challenging.
The way I see it, my Jewish identity doesn't clash or interact with other aspects of my identity. It's simply a fundamental part of who I am. And while people might argue that my identity as a queer person is inherently contradictory to the fact that I identify as ethnically Jewish and with the culture and sometimes the religion, I've never felt that they were at odds. In terms of my sexual and gender identity, I've always felt very welcomed by the Jewish community.
I refuse to let negative stereotypes from others impact how I exist. That is my ultimate goal, even though it can sometimes be challenging.
Abby Bix
They/them
However, growing up without traditional Jewish experiences like having a bar mitzvah often led me to question whether I could legitimately consider myself Jewish. I've discussed this internal conflict with my sister, and we've concluded that our ethnic Jewish identity isn't dependent on others' experiences or religious practices.
I've come to believe that one can be both atheist and Jewish simultaneously. This belief is reinforced by many of my close friends who identify as Jewish atheists, recognizing Judaism as both a cultural and ethnic heritage. Embracing this perspective, I take pride in all aspects of my identity. I actively participate in the Jewish community, enjoy the cuisine, immerse myself in the culture, and continue to learn about my Ashkenazi Jewish background, which spans many generations on my father's side.
Since attending Tulane University, Judaism has played a much larger role in my life. Unlike my childhood, where I lacked access to a significant Jewish community and couldn't participate in Jewish holidays, Shabbat, or prayer discussions, I now find myself surrounded by these opportunities. The presence of a robust Jewish community here has made it easier for me to engage with my heritage. This newfound access to Jewish life and culture has been incredibly comforting and has allowed me to explore and deepen my connection to Judaism in ways that weren't
Our ethnic Jewish identity isn't dependent on others' experiences or religious practices.
How do you navigate and define your cultural or ethnic identity when your personal experiences differ from traditional expectations or practices associated with that identity?
Natalie Cohen
she/her
Until I got to college, I didn't realize that you can be proud to be Jewish without loving going to temple or connecting with the Torah. Still, I have learned that there are so many other ways to be Jewish and proud without studying to be a rabbi. For example, when I got to Tulane, I quickly realized how privileged I was to have always celebrated the Jewish holidays with my big family, and I started to miss that. So, when I couldn't be with them because I was at school, I started my tradition of hosting the Jewish holidays in my dorm and, eventually, in my house. It was really important to me that I included my Jewish peers who were also away from their families and some non-Jewish peers who were just as excited to be there.
To make people feel more comfortable expressing and connecting with their Judaism, it needs to be made clear that people are Jewish in different ways and for various reasons.
To make people feel more comfortable expressing and connecting with their Judaism, it needs to be made clear that people are Jewish in different ways and for various reasons. People’s experiences and expressions of Judaism can vary significantly, often shaped by their upbringing and personal reasons. For example, while I might connect with the Torah at some point in my life, right now, I embrace my Jewish identity by fighting against antisemitism, starting Tulane's Onward Israel program, and sharing my love for Israel by offering suggestions (and sometimes even full-blown itineraries) to anyone traveling to Israel of places to see, eat and explore. And, if someone has questions for me about the Torah, I'll find a good resource for that because I'm not that person, and that doesn't make me any less Jewish.
I want to do something meaningful with my life, and when I graduate, I will need to figure out how to find that meaning. And I've realized that I've done that through Judaism — working with the Jewish Federation and Hillel — not necessarily religiously, but through Jewish community and values.
Ariana DeFranc
She/her
So, my mom is Jewish, and my dad is Catholic. Growing up, I celebrated holidays for both religions, but as an adult, there was no one telling me what I had to do or what religion I should identify with. That is something that I have been figuring out as a young adult, but I have always considered myself Jewishthat's the identity I resonate the most with. That being said, my family is also part of my identity, and celebrating Christmas and Easter has been a part of my identity for as long as I can remember.
Growing up, people, on numerous occasions, told me that I don't look Jewish. I tell myself that I haven’t internalized those messages, but the more I reflect on it, the more I think I have, and I don’t know it. I definitely find myself thinking that I am not Jewish enough to be a part of certain groups because so many people have told me there's no way I’m Jewish.
I definitely find myself thinking that I am not Jewish enough to be a part of certain groups.
In the same way, kids in middle school would say to me, ‘Oh, so, you're not really Jewish’ when I told them I celebrated Christmas. This upset me, and I would reply, ‘That's not true. I'm fully Jewish, and I celebrate Christmas and attend church twice a year.’ Those are the types of messages that you have to tune out because Judaism is meant to be an inclusive religion. There aren’t supposed to be qualifications you must meet to be Jewish.
And how the ‘Jewish’ one is relative. Sometimes, I feel like I know nothing about Judaism, and then, on the other hand, my friends are like, ‘Oh, you're the most Jewish friend I have.’ And I think, ‘I don't know how that's possible.’ But, I surround myself with so many people who have never met a Jew before and don't know anything about Judaism. So, I feel this obligation to educate people. And I think that this role as an educator has forced me to be more involved with Judaism because if I don't talk about it and carry it on, I think to myself, ‘Who else is going to?
Bradley Epstein
He/him
My Jewish identity stems from my experience with camp. My family is not very religious or observant, so Judaism wasn't something I thought about too much growing up. But since coming to college, I've been able to invest more of myself in Jewish communities, and I've started to think of Judaism as a way to pick and choose what you want to take from it, which makes it personal to each individual.
Judaism must create that space to question your beliefs. Having the space to challenge what you learn empowers me to form stronger opinions and stances on my beliefs.
This aspect of Judaism compliments another part of my identity: standing for what I believe in and fighting for progressive causes. However, sometimes, in spaces of liberal advocacy on campus, this part of my identity is at odds with my Jewish identity. There are many times when I don't really feel comfortable joining progressive campus organizations because, honestly, I would be afraid to tell people that I might be leading a trip to Israel. Although I know that my decision to lead this type of trip doesn’t correlate with my support of the Israeli government, I have felt judged or discredited when I attempt to get involved in progressive political spaces. Israel is nuanced, as is my relationship and connection with the country, which makes it difficult to talk about. Even so, engaging in this conversation is important and could help merge Jewish and progressive identities.
Judaism must create that space to question your beliefs. Having the space to challenge what you learn empowers me to form stronger opinions and stances on my beliefs.
Nora Feinberg
She/her
Being both Jewish and a woman has its challenges. Embracing both strengthens each identity. From a young age, I learned the importance of treating everyone equally, which is central to my Jewish identity. However, my identity as an egalitarian is at odds in some Jewish spaces that exclude women from specific roles. For instance, women aren't allowed to read Torah within the more religious communities, and that's always bothered me. I’ve also felt uncomfortable separating from my dad and brother during more religious Shabbat services, as Shabbat is a day to be with family. It's more about feeling like I'm a part of a larger community and empowering others to express themselves Jewishly however they choose.
To combat these challenges, I try to be a role model by leading services at my summer camp to show younger kids what a strong Jewish female looks like. Leading services is one of my favorite things about being Jewish, and it's not just because I feel a deep personal connection to the prayers, although sometimes I do.
Being both Jewish and a woman has its challenges. Embracing both strengthens each identity.
Now that I'm in college, I'm presented with new challenges. I used to find it easy to practice my Judaism, but now it requires more effort. For example, keeping kosher is a struggle. However, having to pave my path has made my Judaism evolve and become stronger. Reflecting on my life, I realize that my Jewish identity has always been a prominent part of my identity. It's woven into every aspect of my life, even my academic pursuits, as I double major in Jewish Studies and Musical Theater. Although I am still trying to figure out what to do with both degrees, I want to combine my love for musical theater with my passion for Jewish summer camp.
Zoe Friese
she/her
When I came to college, I realized that so much of what makes you you is what makes other people different. And so when you place yourself in a new environment, where you're no longer the minority, whatever that condition is, that shapes how you see yourself. I came across this metaphor to explain this idea, which has stuck with me ever since When you talk about identity, is your identity the cookie you cut out using the cookie cutter? Or is it the hole that's now left in the dough? This metaphor makes me question how I understand who I am without the context of other people, and it became even more pronounced to me when I started traveling.
My experiences and travels have shown me that the way I understand and perceive my own Jewishness, whiteness, and gender completely changes in every place that I go. It depends on what other people around me look like, the questions they ask me, and how they understand me. I've noticed that being at Tulane, where I am in a majority Jewish community, makes my identity feel slightly different than it otherwise would because it blends into the background instead of sticking out.
When I came to college, I realized that so much of what makes you you is what makes other people different.
Zoe Friese
she/her
Coming to college also interrupted the narrative I learned in high school - that you've figured out who you are - and allowed me to accept that I didn't quite understand who I was yet. This acceptance was crucial for me to come to terms with my queer identity. Because, sure, I had some internalized homophobia. I was afraid of what my friends would think, but at the end of the day, I felt ashamed that I was late to the party. Like, 'Ah, how could you not understand who you are at the ripe age of 18 years old?' It feels so silly now, looking back.
Coming out as bi at 18 left me with the question: can someone be seen as fitting into the greater society and identify as queer at the same time? Growing up as a white person who presented as traditionally feminine and was good at school, I couldn't help but wonder if my 'new' queer identity would change people's perceptions of me. Grappling with this question brought me back to my understanding of identity. So much of how you see yourself is shaped by others, even though this idea contradicts American ideas of individuality.
I couldn't help but wonder if my 'new' queer identity would change people's perceptions of me.
In what ways have you noticed your selfperception shift depending on your environment or community?
Hailey Gersh
she/her
Iwas raised so differently than my parents, which is a conversation we have a lot. My mom’s parents immigrated to L.A., and her family has immersed themselves in an Orthodox community. My dad’s dad is a Holocaust survivor, his mom is from Mexico City, and his parents raised him very Orthodox in L.A. My parents met through the community and got married super young. They couldn't afford to live in the Orthodox community because it was expensive. So they moved to the Valley, where they had to start driving on Shabbat since my dad could no longer walk to work and began traveling. They changed their lifestyle and decided to raise me and my siblings Conservatively.
They still have Orthodox friends, though, and it’s weird because, being around Orthodox friends while growing up, I felt almost not Jewish. But then, around my Reform friends, I felt super Jewish. It was a weird duality.
being around Orthodox friends while growing up, I felt almost not Jewish. But then, around my Reform friends, I felt super Jewish. It was a weird duality.
Hailey Gersh
she/her
I also feel like I've grown up with weird experiences of being a woman and Jewish. Even though I was Conservative, when I was bat mitzvah, my parents didn't let me read Torah. They grew up Orthodox, and it isn’t widespread for girls to read the Torah, and their Orthodox friends wouldn't have come to my service because they don't feel comfortable with women reading the Torah. I was conflicted over that for a long time and questioned if I even wanted to be a part of this religion if I couldn't do something that men could.
I was conflicted over that for a long time and questioned if I even wanted to be a part of this religion if I couldn't do something that men could.
I was at a point in my life where Judaism made me furious, but this changed when the women rabbis at my camp taught me that I could have a different perspective on Judaism. At camp, I had a bat mitzvah and read Torah for the first time. It was much cooler to do it on my terms and pave the way for other girls with similar experiences. I rebelled by reading the Torah; it still makes me giggle.
When I returned from camp, I told my parents about my bat mitzvah, and at first, they were surprised, but then they were proud of me for defining my Jewish identity. It’s always been the most important thing to my parents that I am proud to be Jewish. My great-grandma and grandpa survived the Holocaust, and it’s so important to me to live out their legacies because they went through the worst of the worst for me to be here. Defining my Jewish identity has been and continues to be a meaningful part of my life because it feels like one way I can fulfill their legacies.
I rebelled by reading the Torah; it still makes me giggle.
I was at a point in my life where Judaism made me furious, but this changed when the women rabbis at my camp taught me that I could have a different perspective on Judaism.
Noa Glashow
She/her
Igrew up in a Jewish home, though my parents were not particularly religious, and I did not necessarily feel in touch with Judaism, even as I had my bat mitzvah.
But then, things changed when I was in high school. I became interested in Judaism and started to connect with it more deeply through various experiences, such as attending NFTY events and having a wonderful rabbi. I am a spiritual person, and I realized that practicing Judaism aligns with my values and allows me to feel in touch with the world around me. So, by 10th grade, I knew that I wanted to become a rabbi because I knew that what I want out of life is fulfillment, and I feel most fulfilled and connected to myself, my community, and the universe when I attend synagogue.
As someone who loves Judaism and is interested in spirituality, I attended Tulane partially because of its strong Jewish community. However, arriving here was a culture shock. I was surprised by the more traditional approach to Judaism on this campus since I came from the DC area, where the practice of religion is very progressive, emphasizing social justice.
So I remember feeling disconnected from Judaism during my freshman year, partly due to feeling like there are two extremes on campus - those who are Jewish but not practicing and those who are very traditional. And I didn't feel like I fit into either box.
As someone who loves Judaism and is interested in spirituality, I attended Tulane partially because of its strong Jewish community.
Noa Glashow
She/her
To make matters worse, I experienced impostor syndrome because many people had attended Jewish high schools and seemed to understand Judaism better than I did. So, I kind of had an identity crisis. However, I've learned how to navigate times when people try to invalidate my experience because I don't practice in a certain way and continue to explore my spirituality in my way.
What's important to me about Judaism is that it's a spiritual journey everyone can practice in their way. My parents never pushed religion or Israel on me, despite my father being a history teacher. Although I had no connection to Israel, and it held no religious meaning for me, I still believed it was essential to try to understand it even if I never fully comprehend it. So, while Israel may be considered the Holy Land, my relationship with Judaism is separate from my relationship with Israel. I've been fortunate enough to have the freedom to explore my path in Judaism, and I want to ensure that others have that same opportunity.
What's important to me about Judaism is that it's a spiritual journey everyone can practice in their own way.
Reflect on a time when you felt disconnected from a community or tradition that you had once felt closely aligned with.
What experiences or realizations helped you navigate this sense of disconnection, and how did they shape your understanding of your own beliefs and identity?
Katherine Hudson
she/her
Iembrace being a convert, which sounds weird to some people. Still, to me, this means embracing that I did have a whole past before I came to Judaism and that my Appalachian, Cajun, and Queer identity don't have to be erased by my conversion. I grew up with Appalachian soul food and a lot of Cajun food, and many people would say, 'Oh, well, you can't eat Cajun food now that you're converting,' but I have found that there are many ways to make the food I grew up with kosher. Finding this cultural intersection in food feels like a metaphor, proving that all of my different identities outside of Judaism can exist together and enrich my Jewish space and my practice.
I started my conversion in high school, and now that I'm at Tulane, my view on Judaism has evolved. I see Judaism as a community, and I've expanded my perception of what it looks like to be Jewish. Growing up, I wasn't exposed to the Jewish community, so I had to focus a lot on the personal aspects of Judaism and my relationship with God. I now realize that before college, my view of Judaism was focused on Ashke-normative ideals, and it has been enlightening to meet Sephardic Jews and learn how Sephardic practices differ from Ashkenazi practices.
Being at Tulane has also allowed me to see myself more in Judaism. Something I struggled with, especially in my high school where there weren't many Jewish kids, was hearing a lot of, 'Oh, well, you don't look Jewish,' or, 'You don't sound Jewish.’
For a while, the idea of living a long, fulfilling life in Judaism felt unattainable. But, I now have many friends who are the children of converts, and that has shown me that I can and will have a long, fulfilling life in Judaism and that I shouldn't be concerned with what people are going to think of me for being a convert.
my Appalachian, Cajun, and Queer identity don't have to be erased by my conversion. 1
Cameron kowitt
she/her
Growing up in Colorado, my mom worked at our local synagogue, so I had a good grasp of the Jewish community and a very progressive way of viewing Judaism. I was a part of Adventure Rabbi, a synagogue without walls where we’d snowshoe and hike to do services in the wilderness and on top of mountains with a portable Torah, and my bat mitzvah was at the aquarium, which was unusual.
However, in high school, I struggled to find my place, as I was the only Jew in my grade, and nobody outwardly identified as Jewish because there was a lot of anti-Semitism at my school.
Every day, I would be in the halls and get 'Hail Hitler' comments, and I was like, 'Really? Like, are we doing this right now?' It was kids who were younger than me, too. So they had to go out of their way to find out that I was Jewish to single me out. And I tried to combat this by taking action. I was my youth group's social action vice president, created programs at the JCC, and joined the Rose Youth Foundation. These experiences helped me connect with Judaism and other Jewish kids my age since I grew up around the same 10 Jews. I also grew up in a conservative county where people had negative views of anyone different. By being Jewish, others viewed me as an outsider, and many thought I was completely foreign.
By being Jewish, others viewed me as an outsider, and many thought I was completely foreign
Cameron kowitt
she/her
On top of that, in eighth grade, I had a strange experience in class with my Jewish teacher and another girl who also had typical Ashkenazi Jewish features. They were discussing a Jewish passage, and my teacher singled me out and said I didn't fit into the typical Jewish mold because of my appearance. I was frustrated because I knew that Jews come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. And, because of being alienated in that way, I had to constantly prove myself and be highly knowledgeable about my identity, including knowing all the holidays and traditions and being able to answer any questions people had. My dad's Israeli background made it easier for me to know all of this, but it still was much pressure.”
These experiences frustrated and motivated me to educate people and promote a broader understanding of Judaism. I worked with Jewish teachers to invite Holocaust speakers to inform and encourage a more comprehensive understanding of Judaism by highlighting that my practice was just one among many variations within the community.
It’s a relief not to explain everything constantly
And now that I’m at Tulane, it's lovely to connect with other Jews and a relief not to explain everything constantly. However, being in this new environment, I've encountered a different type of Jewish community, and at times, I didn't feel like I fit in. For example, some people have dismissed my Jewish experiences in the wilderness because they didn't match the 'norm.' It's also been challenging because I come from a place where I had to represent being Jewish, and few people can relate. Despite this, I remain committed to living out Jewish values, engaging in social action, and supporting the larger Jewish community.
Because of being alienated in that way, I had to constantly prove myself and be highly knowledgeable about my identity, including knowing all the holidays and traditions and being able to answer any questions people had.
Bali lavine
she/her
Iwas adopted from Kazakhstan when I was ten months old, and I always mention this when people ask me to tell them a little bit about myself.
I grew up in Santa Barbara, California, your typical beach town, but as an Asian Jew, I never really fit in with the stereotypes
I often felt alienated in school growing up, especially during Christmas time. I went to a public school where Christmas culture was everywhere, from Santa hats to Christmas decorations, and it all added up over time. When I was in second grade and Girl Scouts, one of the moms asked me if it was against my religion to draw a Christmas tree, and I replied with a bit of sass, ‘No, is it against your religion to draw a menorah or a star?’ Looking back, I don't blame them for their ignorance or lack of education about Judaism. After all, why would you know much about Judaism if you grew up in Santa Barbara, where there isn't a significant Jewish population?
However, growing up, my family intentionally surrounded me with Jewish culture, which has always been a big part of my life. For example, every Saturday, even if I had soccer, I'd run, change out of my uniform in the bathroom, and go to services with my mom. Traditions like this made Judaism a large part of my life at home and instilled in me a strong Jewish identity. I’ve also made an active choice to continue strengthening my Jewish identity, and graduating high school early to participate in a gap year program in Israel was a huge part of it. I was only 17, but the experience was incredible and formative.
My gap year program in Israel provided us with an apartment and classes to attend, but I found that the Hebrew and psychology classes were less interesting than exploring Israel. I got a job at a coffee shop, which helped me improve my Hebrew language skills more practically.
Bali lavine
she/her
The diversity in Israel stood out to me. Tel Aviv was so different from Jerusalem. This diversity is something that I also appreciate about Judaism as a whole, as it supports individuality and expression. And even though I may not have a biological connection to Judaism, the emotional connection is strong.
However, I have experienced having two identities that don't always fit together.
As an adopted Asian woman who is also Jewish, there are times when I feel like I don't fully fit in with either community.
For example, when I was in Tel Aviv, I felt very comfortable and connected, but there were moments when someone on the street would say ‘Konichiwa' to me, which reminded me that I am seen as different.
Similarly, I remember when I was at camp, which is a place where I feel entirely accepted, and yet, even there, people would ask me, 'So, where are you from?' And when I would answer, 'Santa Barbara,' they would persist and ask, 'No, where are you really from?' While I knew they didn't mean it negatively, it still made me feel like I didn't fit in.
Despite these experiences, I have found ways to embrace and make my identities work together. I know that I don't have a box to fit into, and that's why Judaism is so important to me. It doesn't require me to conform to any specific identity or expression.
It's essential to be confident in myself and my identity. I may face additional challenges as a Jewish woman, but the Jewish community is robust and resilient. Despite our differences, we have a history of coming together and supporting one another. Judaism values individuality and self-expression, which is important in forming a personal Jewish identity. It may be challenging sometimes, but being part of a community that shares your values and beliefs is incredibly rewarding.
I know that I don't have a box to fit into, and that's why Judaism is so important to me. It doesn't require me to conform to any specific identity or expression.
Jessie Lehman
she/her
Growing up, I went to a Jewish Day School and a Jewish summer camp and lived in a Jewish neighborhood. So, coming to college was a big adjustment because I realized how much of my Jewish identity was linked to the things that were a part of my daily life at home. I've had to take ownership of my Judaism, and the process has validated for me just how dynamic and ever-changing the ways that we interact with Judaism are.
By finding little bits of home and through family, I have continued to have a Jewish presence in my life. Every Friday, my parents FaceTime me to bless me and my sister. This tradition we started in college has been an excellent way to show my friends who practice Judaism differently what my family does. I also go back to my summer camp as a counselor each summer, which is grounding.
As a sociology major, I constantly discuss social groups, oppression, and different perspectives. I grew up with Israel as an integral piece of my Jewish experience, but as I've grown and learned more, my relationship with Israel has become more nuanced and complex. I am also figuring out how I feel about my Jewish identity in America and higher education. I grapple with the intersection of these identities because of the complexity of separating my Jewish identity from my overall identity, as it feels deeply embedded in my DNA.
Being a Jew in America, while we witness a rise in anti-Semitism lately, has made me more aware of my identity and caused me to be more cautious and paranoid about revealing my Jewish identity in public spaces. I hate to admit it, but I have started to hide my Jewish jewelry when I feel uncomfortable. This is a newer thing that I'm reckoning with and working on striking a balance between being outwardly proud and realistically cautious. While this anxiety around safety exists, on the other hand, I feel a sense of comfort knowing that by being Jewish in America, there is always a community available, even when transitioning out of college and moving to new places. As I transition, I will continue to seek out the little bits of home and acknowledge the constantly evolving nature of my identities.
The ways in which we interact with Judaism are dynamic and ever-changing
Zoe Mail
she/her
Growing up, I often felt responsible for representing my entire community and being the perfect representative of Jews. I was one of only a few Jews in my high school, and many people told me I was the first Jew they had ever met. I felt that everything I did was interpreted as a reflection of the entire community, and it was frustrating that people would make assumptions about all Jews based on me and my actions. There were anti-Semitic comments in my high school. Most of them came from ignorance, but others were more hateful. I feel like these experiences made me a stronger person and more proud of my Jewish identity. I realized the importance of educating others about Judaism and standing up for myself and my beliefs.
Since coming to college, I've become more spiritual. I've shifted my focus from just the heritage and community side of Judaism to the religious aspect, attending services more often and praying on my own. Two factors have significantly influenced this shift: my involvement with Tulane's Jewish organizations, which exposed me to more religiously observant peers, and the passing of my grandparents within a few months of each other last year. During these challenging times, I found unexpected solace in prayer despite having rarely engaged in it since my childhood at Solomon Schechter Jewish Day School. As a result, prayer has now become an integral part of my daily routine, marking a profound evolution in my spiritual life.
I felt that everything I did was interpreted as a reflection of the entire community, and it was frustrating that people would make assumptions about all Jews based on me and my actions.
Zoe Mail
she/her
Then, during my summer in Israel, I took another step towards embracing my Jewish identity by keeping Shabbat. This experience gave me a newfound appreciation for the importance of Jewish traditions in my life. Even when I went to Madrid for a semester, and now back at Tulane, I have kept Shabbat at least once a month.
Hosting Shabbat dinners for other students is something I did to stay connected and grounded while in Madrid. These gatherings made me realize how much I had missed this aspect of my faith, and it's hard to put into words, but I just felt this sense of fulfillment that I didn't even know was missing. The sense of fulfillment I gained inspired me to continue hosting these dinners.
It's hard to put into words, but I felt this sense of fulfillment I didn't even know was missing.
I've come to understand that religion is deeply personal, with everyone's relationship to faith being unique. Becoming more spiritual has been good for my well-being and helped me feel grounded. Keeping Shabbat has been a way to slow down and reflect without the pressures of work. Being Jewishly involved has become central to my identity, and I try to incorporate Judaism into most aspects of my life.
How has your own cultural or religious identity evolved as you've transitioned through different life stages or environments?
Have you experienced any pivotal moments that significantly changed your relationship with your heritage or faith?
Wynne Moffet
she/her
Iattended an elementary school with a significant Jewish population as, at that time, all my friends were Jewish. And then, come to middle school, I switched to a predominantly non-Jewish school where, except for two other girls, I was the only Jewish person in class at the new school. Switching schools opened my eyes and made me more aware of my Jewish identity. Being in a non-Jewish environment, where no one knew what a bat mitzvah or Shabbat was, made me appreciate my traditions and beliefs even more. It made it more important for me to keep them alive and share them with others.
However, keeping traditions alive was challenging, as they were absent in my school or among my friends' beliefs. For example, I was known as the athlete in the grade and was passionate about sports, but at the same time, I was also deeply committed to my Jewish faith and its traditions. My school sometimes scheduled games on important Jewish holidays like the second night of Seder, the second day of Rosh Hashanah, or even Kol Nidrei. I knew I couldn't just prioritize being an athlete and playing in those games because my religion was a fundamental part of my identity, something that was more important than just being an athlete. Even though some people didn't understand why I couldn't play or attend those games, it was something that I had to uphold for myself and my beliefs.
keeping traditions alive was challenging, as they were absent in my school or among my friends' beliefs.
So, going to college, I craved a community where I could connect with others on a Jewish level and celebrate holidays like Shabbat. I want to invest even more in my Jewish identity in college and beyond. I believe this desire stems from knowing many Jews who may feel ashamed of their identity because of attending schools without a significant Jewish population and because of the recent uptick in anti-Semitism. To combat these feelings of shame, creating spaces where we can openly discuss and celebrate our Jewish heritage is essential.
Maddie Nowack
she/her
When I open my mouth, I'm not what people expect me to be. And in some ways, being Chinese and Jewish is a peculiar intersection for me. Weirdly, I have to explain the life that I’m living and see the ways that people make assumptions about me. In Jewish spaces, I feel like I have to explain that I’m adopted the second people talk to me so that they don’t assume things. I guess I shouldn't have to give them context, but growing up, sometimes people said racist things when they didn’t know I was adopted. People would tell me things like, ‘You're not Asian enough to be Asian, like, you're not really Chinese. And, they're like, you're not really Jewish.’
When I open my mouth, I'm not what people expect me to be. And in some ways, being Chinese and Jewish is a peculiar intersection for me.
I would brush off these comments, thinking, ‘Okay, you're an idiot - we're moving on.’ But, after time, those things did get to me - making me question my sense of belonging in Jewish spaces, even though I’ve always felt much more connected to this Jewish piece of me than I did to my Asian piece. I was never raised in an Asian household. I embrace my Chinese identity through food and cool cultural things, but even though I look the part, I don't feel connected to my Chinese identity culturally in the way that I do with Judaism.
But no one would know that because the photo told another story.
Maddie Nowack
she/her
Throughout Hebrew school and being at the JCC growing up, my face was on the covers and stuff like that, which I understand because they want to show that they have diversity, but in reality, they didn't have much diversity - it was just me and maybe one other kid of color. But no one would know that because the photo told another story.
Holding both of these identities gives me a unique lens, and seeing the ways that people react to who I am, negatively or positively, is super interesting. I believe that it’s my job to share my Asian piece, but also my Jewish piece with others, so that they can become more aware. This power of perspective is super important and cool because it's more meaningful when people learn from me rather than looking something up. But it took time for me to realize how cool this was. These identities forced me to grow and be more open about myself, figure out how I present myself, and navigate my way in society to feel like I belong.
Growing up, sometimes people said racist things when they didn’t know I was adopted. People would tell me things like, ‘You're not Asian enough to be Asian, like, you're not really Chinese. And, they're like, you're not really Jewish.’
These identities forced me to grow and be more open about myself, figure out how I present myself, and navigate my way in society to feel like I belong.
Ryan Orlov
He/him
When I first came to Tulane, I identified as a Reformed Jew. Like most Jews I knew, I would say I was just ‘Jewish-ish,’ emphasizing the ‘ish’ part. However, my Jewish identity became more important as I spent more time at Tulane. Nowadays, I consider myself more of a Conservative Jew, and I try to incorporate many aspects of Jewish life into my daily routine.
There wasn't one specific turning point that made me want to make Judaism a more significant part of my identity. Instead, I surrounded myself with incredible role models who integrated Judaism into their lives. I met these friends when I started attending Shabbat weekly during my freshman year. These friends, who remain my role models to this day, collectively practice Judaism in a way that I'm proud to be a part of.
As the president of Alpha Epsilon Pi, the Jewish fraternity at Tulane, I ensure that our Jewish identity is a significant aspect of our fraternity by implementing weekly Shabbat and Sunday tefillin and bagels. Shabbat is a highlight of my week because every Friday night, we have about 20 guys who show up together. Going to Shabbat with my friends on Friday night is a way to get through the week, especially after tests, exams, and endless studying.
Reflecting on my journey with Judaism, I've realized that while I cherish certain aspects of the religion, I can sometimes take them for granted. Despite this, I recognize that Judaism has become a more integral part of my identity, and it now plays a significant role in shaping my values and behavior.
I used to say I was just ‘Jewish-ish,’ emphasizing the ‘ish’ part.
Eden Roth
She/her
Coming to Tulane was the first time I experienced being in the majority by being Jewish, and it felt so different than what I was used to growing up. I felt at home and had a sort of imposter syndrome as my experiences growing up did not match up with what seemed to be most people at Tulane’s Jewish experiences. So, while technically I was a part of the majority, I didn't feel like I could relate to the majority. I felt conflicted about this until I accepted that everyone has a different type of Jewish. Everyone has a different background and understanding because of their Jewish education, identity, and how their family celebrates holidays. Realizing this has been a big thing for me.
While I might be a part of the majority at Tulane, I still feel impacted by all the anti-Semitism in the media. Seeing this in the media feels reminiscent of our history as people: how we've been scapegoated and have had to hold our fort down. It's challenging and makes me scared, but it also makes me more proud to be a Jewish person. I think that because we're a minority in this country, all we can do is be proud and stand together.
Coming to Tulane was the first time I experienced being in the majority by being Jewish, and it felt so different than what I was used to growing up.
Hannah rubinstein
she/her
Although Judaism has always been a conscious part of my life, it didn't resonate much with me when I was younger. I grew up in a very Jewish area and attended a Jewish sleep-away camp, but since I went to a Conservative temple, Judaism felt too strict and didn't align with my personal beliefs. But everything changed when I went on an alternative Spring Break trip with Hillel to Urban Adamah (an urban farm in Berkeley, CA). The trip opened my eyes to the beauty of nature and how Judaism is inherently earth-based. It taught me to appreciate my identity more, be outside in nature, listen to my surroundings, and meditate. I'm so go, go, go, but I learned how to take a step back and take peaceful moments to tune in with myself.
I also loved that we practiced Reconstructionist Judaism at the farm, focusing more on Judaism as a culture rather than just a religion. This aligned more with my beliefs, as sometimes the religious aspect distanced me from my temple. Discovering a new way to connect to my Jewish identity has been crucial to my college experience. All these different identities make up who I am, and sometimes, it can be challenging to reconcile them. However, my Jewish identity is essential and intersects with my other identities. One of my favorite things is bringing my non-Jewish friends to Shabbat dinners or Hillel so they can experience the cultural values I love and learn about my heritage and identity.
Discovering a new way to connect to my Jewish identity has been crucial to my college experience.
Since I've become more connected to Judaism, I've become more interested in learning about other religions and religious spaces. For instance, I've started working at the Labyrinth, a Christian cafe space affiliated with the campus, and learning about Buddhism, which has values similar to mine, like caring for others and the environment and practicing meditation. Of course, it's not the same for everyone, but for me, being connected to Judaism means caring for others and trying to improve the world through small steps.
As time has gone by in college, I have grown increasingly proud of the person I am becoming and the values that I hold. For example, despite being a finance major, I resist capitalist attitudes like the idea of productivity. Instead, I prioritize self-care and the well-being of my surroundings. Looking back, I know my Jewish identity has significantly shaped these values and who I am today.
Naomi Scholder
she/they
Igrew up in the northern suburbs of Chicago, a predominantly Jewish area. Attending a Jewish Day School, I often felt like Judaism was imposed upon me, and I was expected to have devout love and support for Israel without questioning it. Consequently, it took much work to find my footing within the religion. However, things changed when I got to high school, and I was encouraged to question the texts and explore alternative perspectives. This newfound freedom to question piqued my interest in the parts of Judaism that prioritize learning and inquiry rather than the religious side.
I often felt like Judaism was imposed upon me, and I was expected to have devout love and support for Israel without questioning it.
My Jewish identity is central to my identity and intersects with every aspect of my life. However, there have been times when parts of my identity have felt at odds with each other. Not fitting into the stereotypical mold of what a Jewish person in my community is supposed to look like was difficult, but it pushed me to create a space for myself where there wasn't one. I had to do much internal work to understand and accept myself fully, but embracing these identities was ultimately essential to my happiness and growth. I learned to find value in selfexpression and living authentically, even if it meant standing out and not adhering to expectations.
Naomi Scholder
she/they
When the time came to apply to colleges, I strayed away from expectations by attending the University of Vermont (UVM), a different university than most of my peers. This was a bold choice, but it felt right for me then. Coming to college was a big transition for me, and my experiences at UVM made me think about how I wanted to define myself as a Jewish person.
At UVM, I often felt unsupported as a Jewish student, particularly in the wake of an investigation into anti-Semitism. It was frustrating that my friends did not check in on me or offer support during that time and that there was little response from the student body. Feeling supported in all aspects of my identity is so important, and I was disappointed that the support was lacking at UVM. This experience caused me to question the authenticity of my friendships and why I would stay when I could go somewhere where being Jewish is not something I'd ever have to ask. Ultimately, I prioritized being in a supportive environment where I could feel entirely accepted, so I transferred to Tulane. It's taken a lot of time and self-reflection. Still, I now understand the power of the communal and collective experience of being Jewish and the responsibility to fight for the community.
Not fitting into the stereotypical mold of what a Jewish person in my community is supposed to look like was difficult, but it pushed me to create a space for myself where there wasn't one.
I now understand the power of the communal and collective experience of being Jewish and the responsibility to fight for the community.
Gabby Shih
she/her
Growing up, I felt conflicted about embracing my Chinese identity while respecting and including my Jewish identity. I stuck out like a sore thumb because I was Asian and had wavy, curly hair. So when I started high school, I never wore the Star of David necklace I got for my Bat Mitzvah. I never wanted to outwardly broadcast that I was Jewish because I didn't want to put a cherry on top and add more things that would make me feel even more like I didn't belong. I was 14, and at the time, that rationale was my mind being like, 'Oh, I'm different. So I don't belong.'
Merging these identities took time and the discomfort of grappling with who I wanted to identify with, how I wanted to include these two integral parts of my life, and who I wanted to be in the future.
Merging these identities took time and the discomfort of grappling with who I wanted to be in the future.
Before my junior year of high school, I had never brought Chinese or Israeli food that my parents cooked at home to school, just because it wasn't very common. However, during my junior year, I became close friends with someone who allowed me to embrace my Chinese side fully. She was my first friend; she was the same as me in that her dad was Chinese, and her mom was white. She normalized things like bringing seaweed to school, which allowed me to realize that I grew up in a homogenous community and that not looking like everyone else was okay. This realization not only allowed me to feel confident in embracing the Chinese part of myself, but it was also the catalyst that enabled me to embrace the Jewish side of myself too fully.
Gabby Shih
she/her
Being Jewish has become a more conscious part of me in college and feels more colloquial in my life. Even still, it's weird that when I first meet someone and being Jewish comes up in conversation, I always get a lot of, 'Wait, really?' People are surprised that I'm Jewish because my dad's Asian and my mom's Israeli-Jewish, so I don't look very stereotypically Jewish. This type of interaction used to be a thing that I found frustrating because being Jewish was one of the things that, growing up, never felt contested. I know people don't ask me this question to be hostile, but I get it so often that I've now become desensitized to it and view it more as an explanation. However, this interaction always segues into a more extensive conversation about what ethnicity I am. And while I am comfortable talking about it, I, and even my friends, have noticed that people who look stereotypically Jewish don't have to engage in those explanations.
As a young adult, I'm beginning to see the intersections between my Jewish and Chinese sides, and these identities have started to blend positively. Whether it's Shabbat dinner or New Year's Day Brunch, both cultures embrace an open-door policy— allowing me to share culture and intentionally spend time with the people who matter most to me. Only recently was I able to see how the Venn diagram of my identities overlaps, and that's benefited me so much - it's what keeps me going now.
it's weird that when I first meet someone and being Jewish comes up in conversation, I always get a lot of, 'Wait, really?
Whether it's Shabbat dinner or New Year's Day Brunch, both
cultures embrace an open-door policy— allowing me to share culture and intentionally spend time with the people who matter most to me.
Mitchell spector
He/him
Igrew up in South Florida, which had a vibrant Jewish community. From an early age, I embraced my Jewish identity, celebrated certain holidays, and refrained from others. However, halfway through elementary school, my family moved to Orlando, where the Jewish population was almost non-existent. This significantly impacted my development as a Jewish individual. Still, my family remained traditional, kept kosher, and celebrated all the holidays.
However, being one of the only Jewish people in my class was hard, and my first encounter with anti-Semitism happened on the last day of seventh grade. We were passing around yearbooks for each other to sign, and I turned my back for a second. When I turned back around, I saw swastikas and 'Heil Hitler' written all over my yearbook pages and even on the faces in the pictures. My middle school had never encountered anything like this before, and they didn't know how to address it. They were shocked and took no action, which allowed the situation to escalate even further into eighth grade. Finally, it reached the point where someone had photoshopped a picture of Hitler onto my face with the caption, 'The day I became a Nazi.' It made me question whether it was so good to be a Jewish individual when things like this happened to other Jewish teenagers and me every day. It was a low point when I was struggling with these thoughts, and I felt like I needed to hide my Jewish identity.
I felt like I needed to hide my Jewish identity.
But in high school, I decided to attend a diverse school where I could be myself and not face hate. It was one of the best decisions I ever made. My friends in high school were genuinely interested in my religion and how I practiced it. I was the first Jewish person that many of them had ever met, and I was proud to be the one to introduce them to Judaism. So, when I started thinking about college applications, I knew I had to showcase my Jewish identity because it was an essential part of who I am. I didn't want to hide it anymore. I wanted to embrace my heritage and show people that being Jewish is just another way of living. It's a part of me that I'm proud of, and it's important to share that with others. So, for me, embracing my Jewish identity is about honoring my traditions and experiences and being proud of who I am.
Jacob starr
He/him
Igrew up pretty religious, but I lost touch with my Judaism before high school because I didn't like the more religious practices being pushed on me. Judaism felt like something that wasn't mine, and I felt guilty for not being Jewish enough. So, for a while, I was fighting to find my connection to Judaism.
Judaism felt like something that wasn't mine, and I felt guilty for not being Jewish enough.
Losing my Judaism, in the sense of religion, allowed me to find it again at my pluralistic, Jewish high school. Walking down the hallways of my high school and saying that I don't believe in God and having that be accepted created the space I needed to connect with Judaism culturally in a way that felt like it was mine.
Since then, I have figured out my own beliefs and admit that I don't believe in religion much anymore. I think religion is important, but I don't personally believe there is a God. I believe that the Bible was a really, really great book written by someone 1000s of years ago that got worshiped and turned into a greater thing. But I think much of Jewish history has come since then, and it's important to stay in touch with the aspects that bring Jews together as a community, such as Israel, food, music, and other aspects of culture. That's how I've been able to feel even stronger towards my Judaism despite losing my sense of religion.
Ella Taub
She/her
I've realized that my relationship with Judaism is generational and independent. It’s connecting with my family and creating a personal relationship with Judaism.
When I was younger, I only really felt connected to my Jewish identity at my Jewish summer camp in New Hampshire, which my great, great grandpa founded. At camp, we pray in The Grove, full of giant trees. When I was little, I dreaded services at camp, but as I got older, I realized how special they were.
My favorite part about being there is looking up because you only realize how old the camp is. Some trees have been there for hundreds of years, and it's crazy that my mom and grandparents prayed in the same space.
It's so special to be there because I experience different types of connections simultaneously. I experience the communal aspect of Judaism as we all share the space. I also experience the personal element as I acknowledge that the moment and The Grove mean something different to me, my mom, my grandparents, and everyone else. And that connects me to my Jewish identity.
my relationship with Judaism is generational and independent. It’s connecting with my family and creating a personal relationship with Judaism.
Jordyn tobasky
She/her
Living in Tel Aviv this summer was both eye-opening and a defining moment for me to realize what it means to be Jewish. In Israel, most Jewish people I met were different - they came from all other places and had unique stories. Before then, I had only seen Jewish people depicted looking one specific way. But being surrounded by so many Jewish people gave me an incredible feeling of connectedness - one I had never experienced before in America.
Here in America, I feel like it's a thing where you have to go to temple to say that you're Jewish. But Judaism is not just religion. It's my whole person. My time in Tel Aviv showed me that. I wasn't going to temple; instead, I, along with many others, celebrated Shabbat as a celebration of life and coming together. I felt like my experience of Judaism in Israel was a lot more rooted in how I express myself, my values, and my connections to Jewish people, and I did not have to relate it to a religion. I carry this love for being Jewish with me everywhere I go now, and my time spent in Israel made me realize how proud I am to be Jewish and of my family's history. And I'd never want to give that up.
I felt like my experience of Judaism in Israel was a lot more rooted in how I express myself, my values, and my connections to Jewish people, and I did not have to relate it to a religion.
A Note from the Photographer and Creator
After hundreds of conversations and hours spent listening to students’ stories, it became clear that the limiting lens through which Jewish narratives have been and continue to be told was a problem that left many students feeling like they struggled to belong.
As an artist and a photographer, I had to do something with this realization. I began using portraiture photography, reflective interviews, and storytelling to change the narrative, foster connection, and instigate reflection on intersectional identities.
Two years and about 90 interviews spanning students from Tulane to Cal Berkley to Ithaca College later, I’m in awe of students’ vulnerability and ability to reflect on how their experiences have shaped their identity.
By sharing their stories, students uplift us all, reminding us of the complexity of the human experience.
I hope the impact of this project extends beyond this book and encourages all to engage with and listen to people’s stories, for what we’re doing with the Portrait Identity Project is telling stories of contemporary that will become history.
It’s also important to note that while this project serves as a platform to share, discover, and document individual stories, it’s limited to the people I had the privilege to interview and photograph. This body of work is ongoing and by no means a complete representation of all people who embrace “Jewish” as a part of their identity.
– Julia Mattis
