Jews in Deep South Face Curiosity, Ignorance

Sometimes, Benjamin Rosenthal thinks about leaving the small town of Indianola, Mississippi, population 11,000, where he spent most of his life.

He wants to go somewhere bigger, with more Jews.

“It’s very easy to lose your identity in the Bible Belt in a town when you are the religious minority,” said Rosenthal, 25.

In the Bible Belt Christianity rules, particularly in the small towns and cities that make up the region in the U.S. South. Jews comprise less than 1 percent of the population in the South, according to Louis Schmier, a professor of history at Valdosta State University in Georgia, with most living in large cities like Atlanta and Charlotte. Some so-called circuit rabbis travel hundreds of miles to different congregations, often with fewer than 50 members. One of the first questions a newcomer in the South is typically asked is “What church do y’all go to?”

A self-described “displaced New Yorker” from Manhattan’s Lower East Side, Schmier, 70, moved South in 1962 with his own stereotypes. “My image was that on Saturday night every Southerner got himself liquored up, put on his sheet and went out looking for — ” he said, using two unquotable terms for Jews and blacks. In reality, he said, “They’re a nice people down here.”

Nice, and often curious, says Rosie Perlstein, whose husband, Shaul, is rabbi of Chabad Lubavitch of Chattanooga.

“People are always calling and always want to learn about” Judaism, she said. “People ask in a nice way. They’re polite. They’ll ask about different holidays.”

The Perlsteins moved to Chattanooga from Brooklyn in 2009.

While many people have a respectful curiosity about Judaism, others think it’s their duty to spread Christianity, the rabbi said. “It’s impossible to stop in the South,” he said.

The Perlsteins say that drive is not born of malice, but simple ignorance of other beliefs. This is a common sentiment expressed by Southern Jews.

“The rank-and-file citizenry here knows Judaism and respects Judaism, but doesn’t understand Judaism, doesn’t understand why we don’t accept J into our heart as our savior,” said Robert Goldsmith, executive director of the Blumberg Family Jewish Community Services of Dothan, Ala.

“Here there are people who have never met someone who is Jewish,” said Stephanie Butler. “Whether or not I feel responsible for educating them, they always have a lot of questions. They have an interesting perspective about Jews being the chosen people. They’re like, ‘Oh, I respect you so much.’ And I’m like, ‘you don’t know me.’ They have preconceived notions about who and what Jews are.”

Still, she said, she has not experienced bigotry or anti-Semitism during her time in Dothan. Likewise, many have told her they have encountered confusion, but not cruelty.

Rosenthal, however, said he has experienced some mild instances of anti-Semitism. “As a child, “I got told I was going to Hell because I killed J. It frustrated me to no end,” he said.

One time, he added, a colleague asked him what he was doing for Easter. “You know,” she said, “because that’s the day y’all killed our lord and savior.”

The Perlsteins’ experience has been a little different. They say their family’s devotion to their religion evokes a certain respect, particularly in an area where faith has such a stronghold.

“I think people see that we’re Jewish, and that we’re proud of our religion and we hold it strong, and I feel like people have a strong respect for that,” Rosie Perlstein said. “Maybe it’s because they’re so religious. The idea of being proud of who you are instead of working on assimilating, I’ve found people to really respect that.”

She said her family is in Chattanooga to stay — on a mission to enrich the Jewish community in a small city in the Bible Belt.