Stay in the Loop
BSR publishes on a weekly schedule, with an email newsletter every Wednesday and Thursday morning. There’s no paywall, and subscribing is always free.
To emigrate or not: My ancestors weigh the pros and cons
History lesson from David Brooks
With his customary perspicacity, David Brooks of the New York Times has zeroed in on a basic truth that has left historians and sociologists alike scratching their heads and asking, "Why didn't we think of that?"
"Europeans who settled America gave their lives a slingshot shape," Brooks lectured self-centered modern Americans in his op-ed column last week. "They pulled back so they could shoot forward. They volunteered to live in harsh conditions today so their descendants could live well for centuries. The pioneers who traveled West did the same thing. So has each generation of immigrants— sacrificing the present for the sake of the future." (To read the full column, click here.)
I don't know about you, but I get the uncanny feeling that Brooks was eavesdropping on my own ancestors when they first decided to emigrate to America.
As good as it gets
The seeds were planted one night in the early 1880s when the extended members of the Mariansky family sat around the kitchen table in Suwalki Gubernia and counted their blessings, as Jews in Tsarist Russia never tired of doing.
"When you come right down to it," said my great-grandfather Avrum Yosel, "life here in Krasnopol is as good as it gets. We have fresh air, peace and quiet, and an abundant supply of dirt. Thanks to our long winter nights, our workdays are very short. And where else could a man support his family by baking the same black bread day after day, year after year?"
"Man does not live by bread alone," replied his more poetic brother Moshe Baer. "What I love about Krasnopol are the breathtaking views of the steppes and the salt mine, the picturesque cottages with their thatched roofs, the feel of the grass tickling your toes as it peeks through the floorboards."
Colorful costumes
"And the bracing temperatures," interjected their health-conscious sister Etka Kejla. "When you live in Krasnopol, who needs air conditioning?"
"Don't forget the balalaikas, the kazatsky dancers, the Cossacks and priests with their colorful costumes," added Avrum's artsy wife, my great-grandmother Dora. "Not to mention our winter festivals that last into the middle of July."
"Somebody ought to make a Broadway musical about this place," chimed in Avrum's sister Pesche Leib.
"But it's not just Krasnopol," their stepmother Feige reminded them. "We have the good fortune to live in the greatest country on earth. Imagine— 11 time zones! And a stable, predictable government that's been in place for almost 300 years!"
"You're right," said another sister, Julia. "Here in Russia we have Tchaikovsky, Chekhov and the Bolshoi Ballet whenever we like. And where else can you read Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky in the original Russian?"
"For that matter, where else can Jews like us have the chance to "'Be All You Can Be' by serving a 30-year hitch in the Tsar's army?" wondered Moshe Baer rhetorically.
"You left out caviar, borscht and vodka," interjected Moshe Baer's wife Bryna.
Sharpening their blades
For a moment they fell silent.
"It's all true," my great-grandfather Avrum Yosel sighed at last. "And that's why we have to leave, right away."
"Leave Krasnopol? Leave Russia?" exclaimed Moshe Baer. "But we're having so much fun here! Are you out of your mind?"
"Think of all we've invested in this community," Pesche Leib reminded Avrum. "Thanks to our efforts and those of our ancestors, this tiny shtetl now produces nearly 27 percent of the world's supply of body odor. We've cornered the market in Eastern Europe. We should start reaping the benefits any day now."
"But that's my whole point," Avrum Yosel patiently explained. "Things are too good for us in Russia. We're growing lazy and complacent. The only way we'll keep our blades sharp is by moving to some half-assed country and starting all over from scratch."
Massacres and riots
"What country do you have in mind?"
"I don't know," Avrum Yosel said. "Maybe Serbia, or Uganda. But to really give a slingshot shape to our lives, we should move to a totally fucked-up country, like America."
"America? The home of the Ludlow Massacre and the Haymarket riots and robber barons running wild? Where the government changes every four years? Where 600,000 people died in a civil war to free the slaves— something our Tsar accomplished with a mere stroke of his pen?"
"Struggling in a nuthouse like America will help us build character," Avrum Yosel replied. "Besides, we're not doing it for ourselves. We're sacrificing our own well-being for our descendants, so they can live a better life, generations from now."
"Let me get this straight," said Moshe Baer. "You want us to give up caviar, borscht, vodka, Tolstoy, Tchaikovsky and Chekhov so our descendants can live in suburban McMansions, eat hoagies, slurp Mochalatta Chills, attend Lady Gaga concerts, go to plays by Bruce Graham and read tweets by Buzz Bissinger?"
"I know it sounds crazy," Avrum Yosel agreed. "But David Brooks says we have to do it. He writes for the New York Times. He has a bachelor's degree from the University of Chicago. He sees the big picture in ways that elude common folk like you and me. Who are we to question him?"
The rest is history.♦
To read a response, click here.
"Europeans who settled America gave their lives a slingshot shape," Brooks lectured self-centered modern Americans in his op-ed column last week. "They pulled back so they could shoot forward. They volunteered to live in harsh conditions today so their descendants could live well for centuries. The pioneers who traveled West did the same thing. So has each generation of immigrants— sacrificing the present for the sake of the future." (To read the full column, click here.)
I don't know about you, but I get the uncanny feeling that Brooks was eavesdropping on my own ancestors when they first decided to emigrate to America.
As good as it gets
The seeds were planted one night in the early 1880s when the extended members of the Mariansky family sat around the kitchen table in Suwalki Gubernia and counted their blessings, as Jews in Tsarist Russia never tired of doing.
"When you come right down to it," said my great-grandfather Avrum Yosel, "life here in Krasnopol is as good as it gets. We have fresh air, peace and quiet, and an abundant supply of dirt. Thanks to our long winter nights, our workdays are very short. And where else could a man support his family by baking the same black bread day after day, year after year?"
"Man does not live by bread alone," replied his more poetic brother Moshe Baer. "What I love about Krasnopol are the breathtaking views of the steppes and the salt mine, the picturesque cottages with their thatched roofs, the feel of the grass tickling your toes as it peeks through the floorboards."
Colorful costumes
"And the bracing temperatures," interjected their health-conscious sister Etka Kejla. "When you live in Krasnopol, who needs air conditioning?"
"Don't forget the balalaikas, the kazatsky dancers, the Cossacks and priests with their colorful costumes," added Avrum's artsy wife, my great-grandmother Dora. "Not to mention our winter festivals that last into the middle of July."
"Somebody ought to make a Broadway musical about this place," chimed in Avrum's sister Pesche Leib.
"But it's not just Krasnopol," their stepmother Feige reminded them. "We have the good fortune to live in the greatest country on earth. Imagine— 11 time zones! And a stable, predictable government that's been in place for almost 300 years!"
"You're right," said another sister, Julia. "Here in Russia we have Tchaikovsky, Chekhov and the Bolshoi Ballet whenever we like. And where else can you read Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky in the original Russian?"
"For that matter, where else can Jews like us have the chance to "'Be All You Can Be' by serving a 30-year hitch in the Tsar's army?" wondered Moshe Baer rhetorically.
"You left out caviar, borscht and vodka," interjected Moshe Baer's wife Bryna.
Sharpening their blades
For a moment they fell silent.
"It's all true," my great-grandfather Avrum Yosel sighed at last. "And that's why we have to leave, right away."
"Leave Krasnopol? Leave Russia?" exclaimed Moshe Baer. "But we're having so much fun here! Are you out of your mind?"
"Think of all we've invested in this community," Pesche Leib reminded Avrum. "Thanks to our efforts and those of our ancestors, this tiny shtetl now produces nearly 27 percent of the world's supply of body odor. We've cornered the market in Eastern Europe. We should start reaping the benefits any day now."
"But that's my whole point," Avrum Yosel patiently explained. "Things are too good for us in Russia. We're growing lazy and complacent. The only way we'll keep our blades sharp is by moving to some half-assed country and starting all over from scratch."
Massacres and riots
"What country do you have in mind?"
"I don't know," Avrum Yosel said. "Maybe Serbia, or Uganda. But to really give a slingshot shape to our lives, we should move to a totally fucked-up country, like America."
"America? The home of the Ludlow Massacre and the Haymarket riots and robber barons running wild? Where the government changes every four years? Where 600,000 people died in a civil war to free the slaves— something our Tsar accomplished with a mere stroke of his pen?"
"Struggling in a nuthouse like America will help us build character," Avrum Yosel replied. "Besides, we're not doing it for ourselves. We're sacrificing our own well-being for our descendants, so they can live a better life, generations from now."
"Let me get this straight," said Moshe Baer. "You want us to give up caviar, borscht, vodka, Tolstoy, Tchaikovsky and Chekhov so our descendants can live in suburban McMansions, eat hoagies, slurp Mochalatta Chills, attend Lady Gaga concerts, go to plays by Bruce Graham and read tweets by Buzz Bissinger?"
"I know it sounds crazy," Avrum Yosel agreed. "But David Brooks says we have to do it. He writes for the New York Times. He has a bachelor's degree from the University of Chicago. He sees the big picture in ways that elude common folk like you and me. Who are we to question him?"
The rest is history.♦
To read a response, click here.
Sign up for our newsletter
All of the week's new articles, all in one place. Sign up for the free weekly BSR newsletters, and don't miss a conversation.