Interview by Zoë Brigley
“I’ve always been an issue based writer and one who draws from personal experience, but just ranting doesn’t cut it”
White/Other?
What are you doing for Christmas? I’m Jewish, I’d reply. Yes, they’d insist, but what are you doing for Christmas? Sheila said, But that’s just ignorance, not prejudice. Shamed for exaggerating, as if ignorance has less sting. It wasn’t just the boy spitting Christkiller, in my face or silent stare of classmates when my best friend said, You can’t let Jews in. They’ll only take over. It was the tiny corrosion of men whispering in my ear, You Jewesses, so dark, exotic and people’s low hiss, You’re so full on, such a victim. At least in my skin I can hide, be traitor to myself.
This poem is from your wonderful collection, You’ll Never Be Anyone Else. Do you want to tell us a bit about the collection overall?
Since my pamphlet Girl Golem in 2018, I wanted to put a collection together, but it’s just had to wait for its right time. As you know, I worked as a psychotherapist and self-esteem issues became my specialist area. I published a self-help book, Breaking the Spell – The Key to Recovering Self-esteem in 2005 which included my own journey as well as others. Drawing on old and new poems, a collection began to emerge. As I explain in Q2, writing about my Jewish migrant origins was enough of a leap, but I hadn’t yet the courage to include aspects like domestic abuse and sexual orientation. The current climate of courageous younger inspirational poets who write about queer sexuality, feminism, race, mental health issues and abuse, have dared me and given me courage to open up darker more intimate spaces. I could name so many brilliant poets, including those who kindly wrote testimonials: Jacqueline Saphra, Caleb Parkin, Joelle Taylor, Helen Ivory. I’ve always been an issue based writer and one who draws from personal experience, but just ranting doesn’t cut it. With the support of crit. groups with friends, a wonderful mentor and now editors, all have contributed to bringing this collection together, in a way that I feel does represent my own particular personality bundle and voice. Humour is a creative coping strategy, whether Jewish or that of other cultures who’ve experienced oppression. It enables the darkest subjects to provide catharsis, release of tensions and entertain at the same time. I suspect my last words will be witty ones.
‘White/Other?’ seems to be using the check boxes of diversity forms in the title, and there have been numerous stories in the news in the UK, the US and beyond about antisemitism. It’s intriguing how you observe different kinds of prejudice in the poem, and a kind of microaggression in the friend, Sheila, who fails to recognize the poem. Was the poem trying to capture different kinds of experience of antisemitism?
This was one of the trickiest poems to write and arose from a friend’s response to the Christmas example – she couldn’t see a problem. In the 50s/early 60s, Christmas was a closet affair: no decorations or tree and never send cards to Jewish friends. We had kosher chicken for dinner and called it Chretzmach. I was upset by her dismissal, which led to much reflection. The title relates to something many Jews find difficult on questionnaires and is a major feature of David Baddiel’s book & documentary: Jews Don’t Count. The poem is about the cumulative impact of micro-aggressions and how it equates to more obvious incidents. I draw on personal experience, some of which may be common to others subject to prejudice. Chatting with a Black colleague, we laughed as we found common ground in some of my examples. I had not even recognised certain remarks as antisemitic until the early 90s. When younger, I thought accusations of being OTT or victim-like were my fault, my neuroses, and I felt shame. In the 80s I had a temporary job with a Jewish organisation and one day we were all joking about our ‘normal’ cultural anxiety, we’d roar with laughter at questions like, Will there be enough chairs? Will we get it right? Will we have enough food? It was so liberating to realise it was collective, not personal and that together we could laugh it off. Being born just after the war, fear was constant. As a child, I studied all the books in the library about the camps and resistance movements. I had to be prepared for next time. From my teens to my thirties, I denied my identity and thought it a compliment to be told, “I never knew you were Jewish”. Therapy training enabled me to face my inner antisemite, which still raises its voice in my head, like it’s anticipating antisemitic reactions towards me.
The school incident was traumatising. I met the friend years later, but couldn’t bring myself to raise it. The irony is that she married a Jewish man and when I was finally able to relate the incident, she was horrified, replying, “Who said that?” I left a pause and she was mortified as she realised it was her. In her ex-colonial background, prejudice was normal. American racism is raw and brutal, English racism is traditionally micro-aggressive, so polite, but those colour coded smiles hide teeth.
There are devastating events happening right now and it’s hard not to get embroiled in impassioned arguments and polarisations around blame. Whilst deploring acts of violence, oppression and hatred, I am in awe of courageous souls, both Israeli and Palestinian, who demonstrate that only peace will move this particular Gordian knot of conflict towards a solution. The debate over whether Jews are a distinct ethnic group, or just a religion, is still ongoing and I was shocked when one of my sheroes denied the Holocaust as a racist act. It’s one of the most devastating racist acts: manufacturing corpses into lampshades and bars of soap – I mean… I find the Q-anon conspiracy material alarming in how it perpetuates the old tropes. Every genocidal act and oppression however large or small, is appalling, it’s not a hierarchy. It took a very long time for me to write about my Jewishness without fear of attack and this fear is once more being realised. I live in a part of the country with few Jews at all, so it doesn’t enter my head. However, antisemitism persists and has reared its head yet again in the conflating of all Jewish people, with Israelis. My Jewishness is about my diaspora origins, the food, the culture, the very long history and the humour. It’s not my religion and there are aspects of Jewish culture I find difficult. A couple of years ago six of us Jewish women poets appeared at a Jewish fringe festival and the one thing we all had in common, was ambivalence about our identity. It’s complicated.
The voice in this collection is very compelling. I know that you acted and performed on stage – for example you were in the band the Sadista Sisters and appeared in Talent with Victoria Wood. I wonder if that performance angle has influenced the way that you write.
I’ve always had a strong performer subpersonality, my first appearance – aged five – was as a blue candle. Mum was a trained child ballet dancer and was briefly on the stage, but lacked confidence to continue. My parents were dramatic, I put it down to their Russian background. I was/am also a bit of a drama queen. I was determined to do better than mum and not give up. However, my outer confidence was only skin deep. I lasted twelve years in a business that’s ruthless, especially for woman. You need a commercial selling point or rich partner to survive. I’m in my element at readings, I love a live audience and Zoom is like doing TV. I learned a lot of craft in my time, and I tried to tone down my luvviness. People have often said how much they loved my work, but my imposter syndrome was convinced they meant my performance skills, rather than the work itself. All the poets endorsing my book, pick up on the theatrical element. At first I was disappointed, as I hadn’t thought it so prominent, so I am having to accept this as an integral part of my work. I know my creativity thrives on playfulness and humour and I’m happy that the book use those qualities. I’m not an intellectual, analytical writer, more of an experiential, intuitive one. So I guess this is another aspect of being me that’s out in there to celebrate.
