Lorie Cohen Rowley

A published freelance writer and retired adjunct professor of English (Barat College and Loyola University), I have been published in the Chicago Tribune, Huffington Post, Chicago Magazine, Chicago  Sun-times, Evanston Patch and the Northwest 

Indiana Times.

Despite the vitriolic climate in our country and beyond, I see a wave of renewal moving towards shore.  At  84 years young, I am still optimistic that we can and

will come together to move towards tolerance.

Prologue:  Born February 25, 1940, in St. Margaret’s Hospital, Hammond, Indiana, I recall thinking (when my eyes blinked open for the first time), if the three Catholic nuns smiling at me and the kindly Jewish doctor who delivered me could work together harmoniously, what a unified world this must be.

 Moving Towards Tolerance

My earliest memory at age 2-1/2 or 3 was toddling down 15 stairs that separated our apartment from Grandma Leboff’s in the two-flat she owned on Sibley, Hammond’s main thoroughfare.  Although my Lithuanian-born gram still pronounced perch “porch” and spoke Yiddish most of the time, she owned her own grocery store, put my Uncle Dave through college and was the matriarch respected and loved by all.   As ultra conservative Jews whose life revolved around the synagogue walking distance away, we felt the presence of antisemitism lurking in the shadows.  That together with the stench from Hitler’s ovens wafting across the Atlantic further exacerbated those fears.

Given the restrictions of conservative Judaism, one would think that learning Hebrew four days a week after a full day of fourth grade at Lafayette Elementary would be a chore.  Instead, it was my nirvana - - two hours learning Hebrew (which I loved), and the rest of the time being precocious and playful.  Our teacher, Mr. May, European educated and ill-equipped to handle the lack of decorum displayed in our classroom, turned bright red intercepting many a note I sent to Linda Goldstein and Bobby Hess.  In fact, I’m sure he was astounded when he listened to me read Hebrew like an Israeli-born Sabra - - the first female Bat Mitzvah in our congregation.

Sheltered as I was in our tightly knit Jewish community, my awareness of the plight of other minorities barely broke the surface.

During my teen years in the late fifties, a time when the fear of communism consumed the country, I remember sitting glued to our 10-inch TV watching Senator Joe McCarthy accuse many of my favorite movie stars and prominent political figures of being communists, the majority of whom were Jews.  Having already shed my conservative bindings at age 12 when my grandmother died, circa 1951, and we moved five miles from Hammond to Calumet City, a predominantly Catholic community, I was finally able to see beyond the rigid boundaries of conservative Judaism.  My newly acquired friends never questioned my Jewish traditions but accepted me for myself.  No longer was I afraid that prejudice would prevail.  Tolerance and inclusion of all were the mainstays in the Catholic community I grew to love.

The civil rights movement jolted me into realizing the fight for equality was ongoing, never ending.  Today I still see inequities and disparities but I also see upper mobility and a mindset of acceptance and tolerance moving beyond hate.

American Democracy is not a utopian democracy.  Far from it.  Extremists from both sides of the aisle allow personal interests to guide them, forgetting that compromise with all its challenges is the only path to a just and lawful society.

Unfortunately the recent pandemic that sparked embers of fear and fanned flames of prejudice and hate weakened an already tenuous thread of hope holding together the soul of America.  Despite this, it is the freedom to speak up without fear of retribution and the fortitude to counter ignorance with truth that cement my faith in this imperfect land I love.

Today as I reflect on the current political climate of our country, divisive as it is, I see a wave coming, stronger and more determined to reach shore.  I see republicans like Liz Cheney brave enough to ride this wave of awareness alongside democrats far less conservative, united in the name of democracy.  I see seniors like myself, vibrant and positive doing whatever they can to promote peace and understanding and love.  

Looking back on my childhood and the fears of antisemitism that were ever present in the Cohen/Leboff/household, I see how far society has come in understanding racial, cultural and religious differences.  And yet I am still shaken by a resurgence of scapegoating and intolerance and disdain by those who fear change and cling to a power structure where disparities rule. 

 I am 84.   I refuse to allow pessimism and prejudice to overpower truth and benevolence - - antibodies needed to heal our wounded nation.  I am optimistic.  I know that we can and must move towards tolerance, to work together towards a more unified democracy that ensures fairness and justice for all.