February Schneck

They/them

"Growing up, I lived in a predominantly Jewish community, so despite my mom being Christian and my dad being Jewish, I didn't have to think very hard about what that meant for my Jewish identity. However, things changed when my family moved to Georgia when I was 11. There weren't any synagogues around, so my dad decided we would start attending church with my mom to continue the 'fostering of my relationship with god.' Unfortunately, those Methodist beliefs clashed with my growing Jewish identity. As I spent more time there, it was somewhat assumed I would adopt certain Christian beliefs and claim Jesus Christ as my own. But that wasn't the case, as I knew I didn't feel comfortable with some Christian beliefs, and I recognized I identified more with my Jewish community.

Navigating this situation was challenging, and between the ages of 11 and 16, I struggled to find my place in Judaism. I didn't do much with Judaism until seventh grade when I heard criticism about my identity. At the time, I attended a military school, and to save my parents some money on haircuts, I shaved my head. Around the same time, with my upcoming bar mitzvah, people became more aware of my Jewish identity beyond just my close friends. As we were reading and watching 'The Boy in the Striped Pajamas,' people quickly connected the Jewish child in the concentration camp with a shaved head and me. For several months, they stopped using my name and started calling me Shmuel, the character's name. It was a tough experience to handle at a young age.

I eventually learned that people would say whatever they wanted, and I had to stand firm in my identity. This lesson applies to our whole life and culture. We won't be scared away; we're resilient, like a hydra with two heads growing back for every one cut off. We're a strong community; if anyone comes after us, we'll return even stronger. So, I tapped into this belief, rediscovered my connection to Judaism, and formed a Jewish Student Union at my boarding school to reconnect with my faith and community.

Now that I'm at Ithaca, my relationship with Judaism has expanded, and I actively participate in events and embrace my identity. Even if the event has nothing to do with Judaism, just being in that space and seeing how we operate with one another is a form of embracing my identity. It's not just about educating others but having witnesses to acknowledge it. I believe that great art is only great when someone is there to witness it, and the same goes for identity. As it feels great to be who I am, it's always better when someone is there to say, 'Hey, I see you.'

This belief ties into my deep love for storytelling, which is deeply rooted in my chosen profession and Jewish heritage. I believe it's important to have witnesses who acknowledge and honor our stories, as well as the narratives carried by objects we interact with. They serve as reminders of our journey and contribute to the tapestry of our identities. Living authentically is my priority. Recently, I attended the Pride Prom and publicly wore a dress for the first time, despite feeling nervous. The overwhelming kindness and support from the community reminded me of the power of living true to oneself. We live in a scary but exciting time, so we must acknowledge our challenges without blindsiding ourselves. Thankfully, more people are listening and recognizing the ongoing hatred we endure. Living authentically and being true to ourselves is crucial, and I hope we revel in this moment where people are finally listening, and there's a genuine interest in what we have to say."