Matthew Arnold described culture as "acquainting ourselves with the best that has been known and said in the world, and thus with the history of the human spirit." Considering that he was the Victorian poet who planted the term "Philistine" into the modern lexicon, I admire his pro-Bohemian pluck in the context of that repressed day and age. Even today, with multicultural organizations, festivals, education, documentaries, magazines and books - not to mention travel and the Internet - it can still be difficult, in our day-to-day lives, to have true connections with people from afar. Not only do we often become mired in our own orbits, but we are also at the mercy of that endless spin the media and our leaders put on world politics and cross-cultural information.
As an immigrant raised in the American melting pot by well-intentioned but oft-wary English parents, I was darn confused early on by the mixed messages swirling in my little world. We ourselves were from another country and yet I got the sense that my folks were generally suspicious of other people who were also from other countries.
This double standard hit me over the head at about age 9 when we were all watching a news show about illegal aliens and my Grandmum groaned, "Bloody immigrants." Everyone laughed and I suspected she was joking, but, knowing full well that none of us at that time had anything more than green cards, I was still incredulous and blurted "But we're immigrants!"
In general, I always sensed a familial assumption that we should stick to our own kind. So, when I brought home a few friends after school one day, including Carlotta and Perry who were African American, Mum and Dad made it clear that those friendships made them uncomfortable and that those kids were not welcome in our home.
I didn't know if it was because they lived in our town's poorest neighborhood or because they were black, but I had a feeling it was mostly the latter, since my Dad had come from abject poverty and we were unquestionably a working-class family. The skin tone argument made no sense to me either, though, since my Dad's best friend was Percy, a black gentleman who lived across the street from us and for whom my Dad did, and would have done, anything. Percy came over all the time, so I never understood why my friends couldn't.
In any case, the messages of caution that I received about other cultures didn't really soak into my cerebrum, because my best friends growing up certainly didn't come from the WASP nest that I did. Donna was Japanese and Dana was Jewish. Both friendships opened my world up to other cultures in ways no book or class could ever have achieved.
Every summer, Donna would take me to the Obon festival at her family's Buddhist temple, where I learned about traditional Japanese dancing, drumming, ikebana flower arranging, watercolor painting and bonsai plants. Those exquisite arts, and my occasional venture into the temple to observe Buddhist ceremonies, were wonderfully mind-expanding experiences that motivated me years later to go to Japan and discover its captivating culture firsthand.
It was my friendship with Dana, however - when I was older and more able to appreciate the richness and meaning of spiritual heritage - that I really learned about the value of ritual, reverence and symbology. Her family would always include me in their celebrations, whether it was Shabbat dinners on Friday nights, Seders at Passover or lighting the menorah during Hanukkah.
One December, her grandmother told me the story of the Maccabees rededicating the temple at Jerusalem in 165 B.C. after fighting off King Antiochus III's Syrian army of 40,000 men and how the oil they found in a small cruse inside the temple was only enough for one day. It proved to last a full 8 days, however, thus helping to save the Jewish people and their way of life and giving us what we now know as the Festival of Lights.
This story suddenly made every candle a powerful symbol of the human spirit to me and I remember Mum looking completely perplexed when I told her I thought we should light a candle every night at dinnertime. The only flame-related rituals I ever saw in our house were of the birthday variety and the annual attempt to honor our cultural heritage by dousing the plum pudding with brandy and lighting it aflame. The chorus of oohs and ahhs was always appreciative, but hardly pious.
Dana's family taught me plenty of other valuable lessons that were all too absent in my home, such as the intoxicating comfort of kissy-face bear-hugs from inquisitive parents. It didn't matter that they weren't my parents, I just knew I loved being lost in joyous embraces and pelted with questions about school, boys and life in general, none of which my reserved parents had the capacity to do and which I fully understood. I didn't necessarily like it, but I understood it.
Learning about traditions of other cultures brought a breadth of beauty and color to my childhood that informs my sensibilities now. I still seek out Obon festivals in the summertime and every December I try to integrate various celebrations into our holiday calendar so December will mean more to my kids than just Santa, candy canes, packages, boxes and bags.
They know the ubiquitous story of Christmas, of course, but in these times of egregious political rancor, religious strife, race-based fear-mongering and the manufactured, consumerized and PayPalified strong-arming of the notion of "giving," I think it's as vital as ever to expose our children to rituals, songs, dances, foods and stories from other cultures. It at least gives us some hope of imparting that history of the human spirit Mr. Arnold so sagaciously recommended.
This weekend, there are several opportunities to soak up rich cultural color from around the world.
Friday, the Brattleboro Area Jewish Community welcomes singer-songwriter and cantorial soloist Mark Levy, who will perform songs from Ashkenazi, Sephardic, Hebrew and Israeli traditions in English, Yiddish, Russian, Ladino and Hebrew.
Titled "Oy, Chanika!," this engaging show includes Levy's own satirical compositions, and he will be accompanied by guitar and dumbek, a Middle Eastern "goblet drum" often heard in world music. Pete Seeger calls Levy's music "inspiring" and this concert will certainly be nothing less.
The show begins at 7:30 p.m., but will be preceded by a public Hanukkah celebration, including pot-luck, lighting of the first candle on the menorah, a brief service and the Hanukkah story and games for kids.
Congregation Beth El in Bennington is also holding a community Hanukkah party tomorrow night from 6:30 to 8:30 p.m. at the Elks Lodge, where there will be a magician, music and potluck.
For some choral globe-trotting, The Feminine Tone, a 35-member group based in Perkinsville, will perform a multi-cultural concert called "Into the Light," at 7 p.m. Saturday at the United Church of Ludlow and at 4 p.m. Sunday at the Norwich Congregational Church. Celebrating its 10th anniversary together, these gifted women perform locally for the public, community groups and hospices and also travel to Cuba for international choral competitions.
For information visit www.bajcvermont.org or www.sover.net/~bethelvt, or call Feminine Tone at 263-9489
Contact Anne Lawrence Guyon at [email protected].