(This post is an expansion of comments I posted on Frumpter's post: Is Sarah Palin Jewish. He, in turn, links to a number of related articles on the web.)
The short answer is: the "articles" I've seen on the Blogosphere offer no proof that she is.
I've been doing Lithuanian Jewish genealogy for only about 10 years, but this article struck me as wrong on a few grounds:
"Further information on Governor Palin's ancestors can easily be found in the vital records in the Lithuanian State Historical Archives in Vilnius."
I wish! Actually, the only known surviving birth/marriage/death records for Vilkavisis that are for birth: 1810-1811; 1876; 1922-1939
for marriage: 1810-1811; 1904/1925 (RECONSTRUCTED RECORDS); 1922-1939
for death: 1810-1811; 1877; 1880; 1922-1923; 1925-1939 (source: rtrfoundation.org search for Vilkavisis). RTR Foundation is an online database of known East European Jewish records.
Anyone who says that a Lithuanian genealogy can be "easily" found in the vital records is lying. LitvakSIG, a group dedicated to obtaining and transcribing Lithuanian Jewish Genealogy records, has been working on pulling these records out for years. It is NOT easy. (As a side note, LitvakSIG is hosted by JewishGen. They announced at the last International Association of Jewish Genealogical Societies (IAJGS) convention that they are in the process of moving to more robust servers. I don't think this has happened yet, so please be understanding if you have issues connecting to the site. LitvakSIG and JewishGen are non-profit organizations supported by donations, so please consider helping them out if you think that their work is valuable and interesting.)
Note that the critical year in the Palin case (1912) is not known to exist (source, record search on http://rtrfoundation.org/). The gaps in the records make it difficult to prove parentage with any certainty. Most of the Marijampole District records that can be obtained have been translated by LitvakSIG volunteers and donations. Note that the records during the time period we're talking about can no longer be obtained as they fall within the EU 100-year privacy blackout. LitvakSIG has some of these records (since the blackout was just instated within the past couple of years), but not all. An interested party can check out what is available on LitvakSIGs All Lithuanian Database and see just how difficult this would be to prove with any certainty.
Then there is another problem with the Jewish Sarah Palin theory:
"The Names Are Altered. At Ellis Island Immigration Centre, the name was entered as Sheeran, a standard practice when immigration officers were unable to understand the pronunciation of non-English speaking immigrants."
This is also less than true. The Ellis Island records were translated directly from the ship manifest. Transcription mistakes did happen, but this "standard practice" nonsense is a bubemeiser. You would need to carefully trace the family tree to see if you could map it back to the Ellis Island records. This can be done, of course. A combination of naturalization records, WWI/WWII registrations, census entries, city directories, voter registrations and U.S. birth/marriage/death records (among others) can be used to pinpoint the immigrant ship manifest even if the immigrant name was different on the manifest. You can then take that information to set up plausible connections to the surviving records in Lithuania (which may include census data, tax records and (if you're lucky, birth/marriage/death records). The Palin-is-Jewish story didn't offer ANY evidence that there is a shred of actual proof beyond "wouldn't it be cool if." You can't simply say that "Green" sounds awfully like "Greenberg," therefore the person must be of Jewish descent! Well, you could, but you would likely be wrong.
The third issue that raised a flag for me:
As for the cemetery, this is what seems to be popping up on Google:
"members of the Sheigam family are buried in the Jewish cemetery Budezeriai"
There may indeed be Sheigams buried in a Jewish cemetery at Budezeriai (I didn't bother to see if I could find the data online), but this is NOT proof that they are related in any way shape or form to Sarah Palin.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Simchat Torah
I had a girls-only Yom Tov. One thing that really troubled me at first was the separation of the sexes in Orthodox Judaism, but I've since started to see the value in a women-only community.
Simchat Torah was always problematic. Singing and dancing *is* a kind of prayer to me. I don't see Simchat Torah as one long party-- to me it is one long session of using our bodies and voices to get closer to Hashem. That's why it was so troubling when the women sat around talking or silently watching the men and children celebrate. I felt like a tree cut of from its roots, unable to tap into the energy and Connection that was forming on the other side of the mehitza.
It helped a lot to finally realize what my problem was. This Simchat Torah, I was introduced to the concept of shul hopping. My friends and I found places where I could sing without worrying about being overheard, where we could clap our hands and bob about in time to the music. I could participate, even if I couldn't find women interested in dancing with me. Even if I couldn't touch the Torah.
I've been working through my relationship with the Torah As An Object. I heard a rabbi talk a few weeks ago about the whether it was the Torah as a physical object that was holy or the words behind it. He raised the possibility that it was almost idolatry to venerate the torah the way some people have a tendency to do. The important part is what is written, is what is embodied within klal yisrael.
The meaning and energy that I crave so desperately shouldn't be tied to whether or not I can hold a Torah in my arms. When I first started to become religious, I would cry when the ark opened because it felt as if I was suddenly in the presence of Hashem. I slowly learned to take that-- whatever it was that I felt-- and find it elsewhere in the davening and elsewhere. I suspect that process will take the rest of my life, trying to bring that feeling of holiness to every part of my life.
Still, sometimes I want to take a shortcut and dance with the men. Sometimes it seems as if they have the easier path.
Simchat Torah was always problematic. Singing and dancing *is* a kind of prayer to me. I don't see Simchat Torah as one long party-- to me it is one long session of using our bodies and voices to get closer to Hashem. That's why it was so troubling when the women sat around talking or silently watching the men and children celebrate. I felt like a tree cut of from its roots, unable to tap into the energy and Connection that was forming on the other side of the mehitza.
It helped a lot to finally realize what my problem was. This Simchat Torah, I was introduced to the concept of shul hopping. My friends and I found places where I could sing without worrying about being overheard, where we could clap our hands and bob about in time to the music. I could participate, even if I couldn't find women interested in dancing with me. Even if I couldn't touch the Torah.
I've been working through my relationship with the Torah As An Object. I heard a rabbi talk a few weeks ago about the whether it was the Torah as a physical object that was holy or the words behind it. He raised the possibility that it was almost idolatry to venerate the torah the way some people have a tendency to do. The important part is what is written, is what is embodied within klal yisrael.
The meaning and energy that I crave so desperately shouldn't be tied to whether or not I can hold a Torah in my arms. When I first started to become religious, I would cry when the ark opened because it felt as if I was suddenly in the presence of Hashem. I slowly learned to take that-- whatever it was that I felt-- and find it elsewhere in the davening and elsewhere. I suspect that process will take the rest of my life, trying to bring that feeling of holiness to every part of my life.
Still, sometimes I want to take a shortcut and dance with the men. Sometimes it seems as if they have the easier path.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
trying to connect
It's really hard to step outside of yourself and really try to understand another person. Everything is seen through your own filter of experiences and prejudices.
For example, I connect to Hashem through tefilah and through community. It's important to me to be in a place where the davening has energy. It's important to me, on shabbos and yom tov, to be around other people who feel the same way. I hate davening in isolation.
There are other ways to connect to Hashem, of course. There are people for whom davening is simply a rote list of words that they have to get through. That doesn't mean that they're bad Jews. They might, for example, connect to Hashem through the intricacies of doing mitzvot. They might be rigid about their observance because that is the primary way they get close to G-d.
I don't think that many people are on one extreme or the other. Most of us are probably somewhere in-between. Still, it is so hard for me to understand someone who doesn't experience a close, emotional connection to Hashem through prayer. I don't understand wanting to rush through the prayers.
Why is it so important for me to understand another person? Why can't I just accept things the way they are?
The holiday season is becoming extended for me, elongating into what seems to be an endless period of reflection. Maybe I just need some time alone to think. I rushed into Rosh Hashanah and then into Yom Kippur. Sukkot came too fast for me to even take breath. This is not supposed to be a stressful time. This is supposed to be my "reset" button, my chance to start over. Instead, I'm looking at everything on my to-do list and wondering when I can curl up in some quiet corner with my cat and pretend that the world has gone away.
For example, I connect to Hashem through tefilah and through community. It's important to me to be in a place where the davening has energy. It's important to me, on shabbos and yom tov, to be around other people who feel the same way. I hate davening in isolation.
There are other ways to connect to Hashem, of course. There are people for whom davening is simply a rote list of words that they have to get through. That doesn't mean that they're bad Jews. They might, for example, connect to Hashem through the intricacies of doing mitzvot. They might be rigid about their observance because that is the primary way they get close to G-d.
I don't think that many people are on one extreme or the other. Most of us are probably somewhere in-between. Still, it is so hard for me to understand someone who doesn't experience a close, emotional connection to Hashem through prayer. I don't understand wanting to rush through the prayers.
Why is it so important for me to understand another person? Why can't I just accept things the way they are?
The holiday season is becoming extended for me, elongating into what seems to be an endless period of reflection. Maybe I just need some time alone to think. I rushed into Rosh Hashanah and then into Yom Kippur. Sukkot came too fast for me to even take breath. This is not supposed to be a stressful time. This is supposed to be my "reset" button, my chance to start over. Instead, I'm looking at everything on my to-do list and wondering when I can curl up in some quiet corner with my cat and pretend that the world has gone away.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
resolutions
I have been trying to make up all the hours from the holidays. That leaves me very little time to think, write, or do anything else.
I spent Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur davening for clarity. I didn't quite get the answer I sought, but I did get a list of things I need to do during the coming year. I know that they're all very small, basic things, but I'm not good at following through with grand changes. Baby steps are more likely to succeed:
1. Work on my Hebrew. I bought the interlinear Tehillim thinking that I could use it to practice my Hebrew and increase my vocabulary. I tried the same thing with a siddur last year, but I really don't have hours to spend each day on my prayers, so those need to stay in English for now. Surely I can read one Psalm a day out loud.
2. Get better about my after-brachas. It is NOT that hard to memorize the after-brachas, at least not the shorter ones. I need to stop being lazy.
3. Start donating to a BT learning center I particularly admire. I don't give nearly as much tzedaka as I should. One of my friends gave me the idea of sending in 12 checks, 11 post-dated. Surely I can find $15 a month in my budget for this.
4. Create (and stick with) a plan to get out of debt. All of my tax refund needs to go towards paying off debt. That will take care of my one high-interest credit card. After that, I need to divert the money I was paying each month on that card to my car loan. Where did I get the idea that 6% was an acceptable interest rate? The economy is pretty scary right now; I need to get my house in order!
5. Get better about housework. I can't find the key to the box where I keep my jewelry. I've even lost a siddur! I need to get this house clean and keep it that way!
6. This is the one that isn't so small... I want to get engaged. I want to settle down. I need to break through the one thing that's really blocking me from this.
I hope everyone had a productive fast and was sealed for good in the Book of Life.
I spent Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur davening for clarity. I didn't quite get the answer I sought, but I did get a list of things I need to do during the coming year. I know that they're all very small, basic things, but I'm not good at following through with grand changes. Baby steps are more likely to succeed:
1. Work on my Hebrew. I bought the interlinear Tehillim thinking that I could use it to practice my Hebrew and increase my vocabulary. I tried the same thing with a siddur last year, but I really don't have hours to spend each day on my prayers, so those need to stay in English for now. Surely I can read one Psalm a day out loud.
2. Get better about my after-brachas. It is NOT that hard to memorize the after-brachas, at least not the shorter ones. I need to stop being lazy.
3. Start donating to a BT learning center I particularly admire. I don't give nearly as much tzedaka as I should. One of my friends gave me the idea of sending in 12 checks, 11 post-dated. Surely I can find $15 a month in my budget for this.
4. Create (and stick with) a plan to get out of debt. All of my tax refund needs to go towards paying off debt. That will take care of my one high-interest credit card. After that, I need to divert the money I was paying each month on that card to my car loan. Where did I get the idea that 6% was an acceptable interest rate? The economy is pretty scary right now; I need to get my house in order!
5. Get better about housework. I can't find the key to the box where I keep my jewelry. I've even lost a siddur! I need to get this house clean and keep it that way!
6. This is the one that isn't so small... I want to get engaged. I want to settle down. I need to break through the one thing that's really blocking me from this.
I hope everyone had a productive fast and was sealed for good in the Book of Life.
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