Yiddish house comes to campus
OUTSIDE THE JRC – Earlier this week, vandals at Kansas State University destroyed a Sukkah, a ceremonial structure for the Jewish harvest festival of Sukkot. In protest of this hate crime, President Klingon has made the bold decision to keep Grinnell’s Sukkah up permanently. The structure, which stands approximately fifteen arm lengths high and has a traditional roof made of branches, will serve as the new Yiddish Language House. In an inspiring speech before the Board of Trustees, the President was quoted as saying the following about this project:
“In life, sometimes you’re the schlemiel -- that’s Yiddish for the person that spills the soup -- and sometimes you’re the shlamazel -- that’s Yiddish for the person upon whom the soup is spilled. Our aim at Grinnell is to be the schlemiel, and dedicate ourselves to spilling the hot soup of justice on the laps of those who would oppress us.”
On the JRC lawn, preparations are underway. Beds have been installed, as well as slightly farshtunken bathroom facilities. A mini fridge containing just a bissel of bagels and lox has been schlepped out for noshing.
Student reactions have been mixed. “Oy gevalt!” says Naomi Farokh ‘19, who expressed displeasure with the temperature. “I’m freezing my tuckus off out here!”
“It’s not worth the tsuris,” agrees Eli Stein ‘20. “I think this whole thing is meshugenah.”
“Don’t listen to those alter kackers,” counters Jeremy Safer ‘21. “Yiddish house is takeh verschtupft!“
Students have also been making a tsimmis about the choice of language. “A Hebrew House would have been better,” notes Molly Lichterman. “Or maybe a Hillel or not scheduling events on Jewish holidays. But I shouldn’t kvetch.”
Despite practical objections to Yiddish House, students agree with it as a form of protest. “I mean, think about what we’re futzing with here,” says Hadiya Basith ‘17. “The last time I broke something that made me mad I was, like, three. It’s a stupid response to a stupid act.”
Sheryl Berkstein ‘21 agrees. “These schmeckles are acting tough, but they’re pretty scared to show their faces, nu? I’d rather make fun of them.”
The new residents of Yiddish House sat braiding Challah, narrowly ducking the occasional decorative gourd as it flew by on a gentle evening breeze.