A Literary Magazine in Support of the Jewish Community
Jew Boy
Summer weekend in America 1959, an early memory
one of the first I know to be
my own, a drive upstate
I need to pee
but we can’t stop. Not here, not where
NO JEWS
NO COLOREDS
NO DOGS
ALLOWED
reads the handwritten sign taped to the door
of some small-town roadside lunch joint, maybe a gas station
it’s a long time ago, but here’s what I am clear about:
We couldn’t stop, not there, being Jews
before I knew what being Jews meant.
Back in the car my brother pointed and squealed at me,
and Dad yelled at me to stop,
and Mom yelled at Dad to stop the car.
So there I was, standing at the side of the road
pissing the last of it, my back to the passing cars
maybe filled with people from the place with the sign
who I imagine yelled, Jew Boy,
out their open windows, snickering at the child
hiding behind the big green Oldsmobile
so long ago.
Over the years my Dad told and told the tale
making it our story in the story of his America
each time reminding his listeners of the sign
what it said, adding (he had his act down),
“At least we got top billing.”
Kenneth White
Kenneth White earned a Masters in Creative Writing from San Francisco State University back in 1978. While he never gave up writing, he did not seek publication for decades, a time when a rather consuming professional life involved running a family of nonprofits dedicated to saving both pet animals and wildlife. He’s recently transitioned into semi-retirement (still consulting for the organizations he ran) and has recommitted to writing and finding homes for his work (some recent success with poems recently or set to soon appear in Minyan, Abandoned Mine, Iconoclast, and Raven’s Perch).
