Fascinating. My Jewish mother hid the fact we were Jewish from we (her) children. Apparently, coming of age during WWII, and ending up in Minnesota by 1951, she was terrified we would somehow be targeted. How much that war, those atrocities, was underlying our baby boomer childhoods, we couldn’t see at the time, but they were the bedrock beneath our, relatively privileged (by historical standards) childhoods. At age 17, as I was about to turn 18 and run off to Alaska with my (then) boyfriend, my oldest brother decided it was something I should know.
Fascinating. My Jewish mother hid the fact we were Jewish from we (her) children. Apparently, coming of age during WWII, and ending up in Minnesota by 1951, she was terrified we would somehow be targeted. How much that war, those atrocities, was underlying our baby boomer childhoods, we couldn’t see at the time, but they were the bedrock beneath our, relatively privileged (by historical standards) childhoods. At age 17, as I was about to turn 18 and run off to Alaska with my (then) boyfriend, my oldest brother decided it was something I should know.