Before 23-year-old Aleah Gabbard began her conversion to Judaism four years ago, she grew up around deeply-rooted anti-Semitism in Owensboro, Kentucky.
Owensboro made national news this past Halloween when a resident wore a Nazi soldier costume and dressed his young son as Hitler. This incident reflects the environment that Gabbard experienced in public schools in Owensboro. One year, she said, at Daviess County High School, “I remember learning about the Shoah, and there was a group of popular male jocks who kept making Nazi jokes and Anne Frank jokes.” During a lesson on Kristallnacht, she remembers that a group of athletes yelled, “The Jews did NAZI that coming!” Her peers would draw swastikas over desks and in bathroom stalls. And during her Roman and Greek history class, she remembers classmates asking, “Why did the Jews kill Jesus?”
Now, farther along in her conversion process, Gabbard has experienced dismissal from many of her non-Jewish peers. Many people, she said, “have no idea what a Jew is – they try to Evangelize me, and ask why I don’t believe in Jesus…or they act as if I am not Jewish.” Folks in the latter category still wish her a “Merry Christmas” and ask why she doesn’t join them at church on Sunday. They “cannot understand the differences” between Judaism and Christianity, Gabbard said.
Gabbard’s family are Baptists who she describes as “open-minded” and “well-meaning,” despite struggling to understand Gabbard’s decision to convert. “They ask me things like, ‘Do you believe in Jesus? Do you celebrate Christmas or Hanukkah with your nieces? If you marry someone who isn’t Jewish, are you going to leave them or convert to their religion?,’” she said. Gabbard quickly grew exhausted with these comments from those close to her, so she has since decided to keep her religious views “private, unless asked.”
Despite the intolerance that Gabbard faces in Owensboro, the city actually has a Jewish population that dates back to the 1840s, when Ashkenazi immigrants arrived from German-speaking Europe. In 1877, the community built a shul known as Temple Adath Israel, and today the building remains one of the oldest-standing synagogues in the United States. Owensboro’s Jewish community at it height had a population of 230 in 1919, but declined to only 49 by 1927, according to the American Jewish Yearbook. Somehow, the shul has remained somewhat active over the years, even though they are not able to hire a rabbi.
Israel Sandy Bugay is the president of Adath Israel today, and believes that for Jews, “Owensboro is a welcoming city.” Her interactions with other religious communities in Owensboro have been positive, she said. For instance, she is often invited to speak at local churches, and after the massacre in a Pittsburgh synagogue, a representative from the local mosque called to offer condolences.
However, Bugay admits that Jewish life in Owensboro can be difficult due to its small Jewish population. Adath Israel is only able to offer Torah study on Fridays and services on specific holidays, like Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. Bugay noted that dietary needs are hard to meet because there are no kosher grocery stores or delis in town. For a Jewish family with children in Owensboro, “the usual decision is to go to Evansville for instruction and fellowship. Obviously, a small community does not attract new Jewish families,” Bugay said. In fact, lay leader Steward “Stu” Spindel estimates that a total of only four or five Jewish families attend the shul, and only two or three of them come regularly.
Because of Adath Israel’s limited capacity, Gabbard travels to Temple Adath B’Nai in Newburgh, Indiana, a community that has the closest rabbi to Owensboro. She first attended services there with a friend, Joseph, who she met at Owensboro Community Technical College.
Joseph had been travelling to Temple Adath B’Nai as part of their own conversion process, and hearing about her friend’s journey, “I instantly became enamored with learning as much about Judaism as possible,” Gabbard said. The first service she attended with Joseph felt “like I was being welcomed home,” Gabbard said. “I fell in love with the principle teachings and diversity offered by the Reform sect.”
The shul’s rabbi, Gary Mazo, has been instrumental in Gabbard’s conversion process. Mazo is “very educational and easy to talk to. He makes everyone feel loved and accepted,” Gabbard said. Unfortunately, due to health issues, Gabbard hasn’t been able to make the trip to Newburgh in two years. Regardless of the challenges of converting far from Jewish community and rabbinic support, Gabbard is determined to finish the process.
Spencer Wells is a student at Western Kentucky University and served as a New Voices reporting fellow in 2018.
Featured image credit: Pixabay.com/12019.
