Page One Hundred Twenty-Two.
Right now I'm sitting at my dining room table, writing this blog. Besides my computer, the other things on the table are many decorations for Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, which is in a few weeks. The reason they're here is because I'll be using them in a couple days to decorate one window at the beauty salon which I manage. Decorating a window for Rosh Hashanah is mostly no big deal. But if you remember from a couple blogs ago (page #119) the salon is almost exclusively African-American. However, here's the thing: my boss, Alma, knew what she was getting herself into when she asked me to be the manager. She knew that my world view is a bit odd, overly embracing and quite rebellious.
Last spring I decorated one window for the Jewish holiday of Purim and I decorated another one for St. Patrick's Day. Of all things, I didn't do one for Easter because one of our two windows was broken at the time and the other window was set with something that Alma and I both liked, though I don't now remember what it was. (Also, that was the week that I was hosting the Passover Seder at the church, and was cooking for 260 people. So, I took the entire week off from the salon anyhow.) Alma, the beauty salon and I are all in Cleveland Heights, Ohio, an unusually ecumenical and integrated community. If I can't get away with decorating a black beauty salon for all the Jewish holidays in this city, I can't do it anywhere. And I want to.
It doesn't go unnoticed either. Last spring while the windows had their St. Pat's theme, some drunken bar hopping patrons who were staggering by, were overheard to say "why do those ni****s have their salon decorated for St. Patrick's Day?" (The salon is on a street heavily occupied by popular restaurants and bars.) But also, earlier this summer, I received word that my windows had been nominated for the best decorated windows in Cleveland Heights. So there you go.
Actually the salon clients love it. Alma is a devout Christian as are many of her clients. They love the fact that I embrace and then talk about my Jewishness because Jesus was Jewish. So they're fascinated by our holidays. As far as I'm concerned, anything which keeps my creativity popping is good. And doing those windows for various holidays, Jewish and otherwise, definitely pops my creativity.
Showing posts with label Integration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Integration. Show all posts
Friday, August 16, 2013
Friday, December 21, 2012
Fish Out Of Water
Page Thirteen.
Age nineteen saw me get my first job as a hairdresser. It was '81. Through connections I ended up working at a salon named Salon: Alpha-Omega. It was located in Rocky River, a far west side Cleveland suburb with a predominately well-to-do population. It's a very white, conservative and rigid community. It's also quite beautiful. I've always lived in Cleveland Heights, still do. CH is an inner ring east side community with a long history of Judaism and heavy racial integration. River has some stunning homes and property which juxtapose Lake Erie. CH has many neighborhoods with 5000 plus square foot homes, many reach 10,000. Both cities were developed during the Jazz Age. Culturally, they have nothing in common. Alpha-Omega was getting ready to open up a new east side salon in CH and hired me to work in the new location, once I was through with my apprenticeship, that is.
I grew up in an old world home. My father came over on the boat and my mother had somewhat conservative beliefs. I grew up in a middle class environment but under no circumstances was it one which might be described as "Prosperous-Jewish-Consumerist," if you know what I mean. Retail therapy didn't exist, nor household bells and whistles. My particular Cleveland Heights neighborhood was very modest. It was just normal working people. Many of the upper-middle class Jewish families who settled in Cleveland Heights during the forties and fifties moved farther east to Beachwood in the sixties.
Alpha-Omega catered to Cleveland's elite. The owners didn't care if it was rich west-siders or rich east-siders, just so long as they were in the social register. I started in July of '81 and the new salon opened in November of '81. (I took the bus to River everyday: two hours commute.) At the time of the new location's opening we were considered by Clairol International to be one of the three best salons in Cleveland with the other two in Beachwood. We were for the rich Wasps and Cleveland Heights and neighboring Shaker Heights had busloads of 'em.
In spring of '82 I moved in with The Van Myms: ubber Wasps. Their family name is well known to American History buffs, general movers and shakers and various other blue bloods. I was the live-in nanny to people who were related to names which are American household words, in fact I met some of those people. Mrs. Van Mym, Amanda, told me that she recognized me from the salon when we first met. The VM's had one of those large houses in one of those extraordinary neighborhoods. Our next door neighbors had to have had 7000 square feet of 1925 ultra-luxury. We weren't far behind.
I had to acclimate to living with and servicing great wealth. It was weird. Home and work were filled with people who I'd only read about. That's an element to both of those industries that receives far too little attention. Sociologically, I was fascinated. Talk about "Gorillas In The Mist?" This was the REAL DEAL. I truly was an outsider, but the level of kindness shown me, in both arenas was generally so great that I didn't feel as alienated as I realize today I was. They were saints actually. Admittedly, my basic personality is colorful enough and gracious enough that it carried me. Though I was so young and naive I could've made PeeWee Herman look like the host of Masterpiece Theater.
As the years would progress, I would be grateful for so much of what I learned in those environments. Many of my vocational and avocational endeavors over the years have brought me into contact with people similar to those whom I met in the early-mid '80's. In fact, many people have mentioned to me that I behave like someone who's been around (and not in the bad way.) And they've been saying that since the '80's. They wouldn't believe how much of my apparently cultured background is really post-childhood.
Age nineteen saw me get my first job as a hairdresser. It was '81. Through connections I ended up working at a salon named Salon: Alpha-Omega. It was located in Rocky River, a far west side Cleveland suburb with a predominately well-to-do population. It's a very white, conservative and rigid community. It's also quite beautiful. I've always lived in Cleveland Heights, still do. CH is an inner ring east side community with a long history of Judaism and heavy racial integration. River has some stunning homes and property which juxtapose Lake Erie. CH has many neighborhoods with 5000 plus square foot homes, many reach 10,000. Both cities were developed during the Jazz Age. Culturally, they have nothing in common. Alpha-Omega was getting ready to open up a new east side salon in CH and hired me to work in the new location, once I was through with my apprenticeship, that is.
I grew up in an old world home. My father came over on the boat and my mother had somewhat conservative beliefs. I grew up in a middle class environment but under no circumstances was it one which might be described as "Prosperous-Jewish-Consumerist," if you know what I mean. Retail therapy didn't exist, nor household bells and whistles. My particular Cleveland Heights neighborhood was very modest. It was just normal working people. Many of the upper-middle class Jewish families who settled in Cleveland Heights during the forties and fifties moved farther east to Beachwood in the sixties.
Alpha-Omega catered to Cleveland's elite. The owners didn't care if it was rich west-siders or rich east-siders, just so long as they were in the social register. I started in July of '81 and the new salon opened in November of '81. (I took the bus to River everyday: two hours commute.) At the time of the new location's opening we were considered by Clairol International to be one of the three best salons in Cleveland with the other two in Beachwood. We were for the rich Wasps and Cleveland Heights and neighboring Shaker Heights had busloads of 'em.
In spring of '82 I moved in with The Van Myms: ubber Wasps. Their family name is well known to American History buffs, general movers and shakers and various other blue bloods. I was the live-in nanny to people who were related to names which are American household words, in fact I met some of those people. Mrs. Van Mym, Amanda, told me that she recognized me from the salon when we first met. The VM's had one of those large houses in one of those extraordinary neighborhoods. Our next door neighbors had to have had 7000 square feet of 1925 ultra-luxury. We weren't far behind.
I had to acclimate to living with and servicing great wealth. It was weird. Home and work were filled with people who I'd only read about. That's an element to both of those industries that receives far too little attention. Sociologically, I was fascinated. Talk about "Gorillas In The Mist?" This was the REAL DEAL. I truly was an outsider, but the level of kindness shown me, in both arenas was generally so great that I didn't feel as alienated as I realize today I was. They were saints actually. Admittedly, my basic personality is colorful enough and gracious enough that it carried me. Though I was so young and naive I could've made PeeWee Herman look like the host of Masterpiece Theater.
As the years would progress, I would be grateful for so much of what I learned in those environments. Many of my vocational and avocational endeavors over the years have brought me into contact with people similar to those whom I met in the early-mid '80's. In fact, many people have mentioned to me that I behave like someone who's been around (and not in the bad way.) And they've been saying that since the '80's. They wouldn't believe how much of my apparently cultured background is really post-childhood.
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