Dear Hotchkiss

Dear Hotchkiss,

My name is Julianna Hellerman, and I’m a Jewish student- but you probably already knew that.

And Hotchkiss? I want you to know something else. I want you to know that I get it. I get it and I don’t blame you.

I get that we have saturday classes. I knew that when I got here. I was told that they were “bi-weekly,” but I get it. But please know that those friday nights and saturday mornings? Those are supposed to be my days of rest. I’m supposed to pray on those days, to spend them with my family.

And Hotchkiss? I get that we don’t have Jewish holidays off. I get that we’re a minority here, and I understand that there aren’t enough of us to merit a day off. I can live with this. I can live with having to skip a few days of classes, making up some work and feeling a little lost for a while.

And Hotchkiss? I understand that the kosher laws are hard to read and keep by, but Hotchkiss I don’t understand why you couldn’t get kosher for passover matzoh. I don’t understand why every other meal must be pork. But Hotchkiss, I will live with it, however hard it is, I will live with it.

Hotchkiss, I know that we can’t teach every subject or read every book. But Hotchkiss, tell me why the only time I’ve seen a reflection of my heritage, my culture, in english class is when reading about Shylock in the Merchant of Venice. Tell me why the only events I’ve seen in the beautiful history of my people are those full of death and destruction. And if you can’t, just know that I can live with that too.

Because, Hotchkiss, I’ve had the privilege of learning about my culture and heritage. And, Hotchkiss, I know that my people are not a bunch of short, evil men with big noses and an even bigger lust for wealth, and Hotchkiss, I know that the history of my people is much more colorful than the dark series of terrible events it is so often portrayed as, even if you don’t. So Hotchkiss, I can live with it. It may kill me inside, but I can live with it.

But Hotchkiss, You know what I can’t live with?

I can’t live with the fact that that’s all you’ve taught my peers about me; my religion, my heritage, my family? I can’t stand the fact that you’ve taught the people here to look at me, to look at my people, and think “Shylock”.

Because, Hotchkiss, I’ve given up so much to be here. I’ve given up my home, my traditions, my family and a community of people like me who understand how all this feels.

Hotchkiss I’ve given up my comfort to be here.

And Hotchkiss, I need something back.

I need my peers to know that I am not a money-hungry swindler. I need you to teach them something about the Holocaust. I need you to remember with me every passing holiday that marks yet another attempt to exterminate my people, culture and religion. Hotchkiss, I need you to be my family because family is there. I need your support sometimes and in return I will give you everything. I will support you back. Because Hotchkiss? I love you.

But Hotchkiss, right now I feel so alone and I’m not sure how much longer I can take this.

Sincerely, Julianna Hellerman