One student did not believe me when I told her there used to be a Jewish community in Iraq. Being of Iraqi origin, she said she never heard of Jews who came from her homeland. I pushed her: I told her to ask her grandparents if they knew of any Jews growing up in Baghdad. Almost as if she was determined to prove me wrong, she told me she would ask both her grandparents later that night.
When she came back, it was as if she was in disbelief at the words she was speaking. “My grandfather told me his best friend while growing up was Jewish and my grandmother said that her classroom had many Jewish students who were also her friends. They both seemed sad while telling me. They said they miss them very much, and the way Iraq was — welcoming to all people.”
As this student told her story, the whole class listened very intently, taking in her words. I wondered if any of their grandparents had stories that they carry but never reveal, still too heartbroken to remember a time when diversity seemed more acceptable.
Read more at Forward.
Why My Jordanian Students Thought I Was Lying About Judaism
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