by Alice Sparberg Alexiou
I observed the civil rights movement as a teenager in Great Neck, New York, the goldene medina, far from the agony of Mississippi and Alabama. Great Neck, our Depression-bred parents told us, was paradise, filled with huge houses and lush landscapes, swimming pools and tony stores, in contrast to the mean streets of Brownsville or Far Rockaway where our parents had grown up. Except for a small black population on Steamboat Road dating back to the 19th century, Great Neck was then all white and all Jewish. We didn’t experience anti-Semitism as our parents had. Our schools were rated among the best in the country.
by Debra L. Schultz
by Debra L. Schultz
Women in the civil rights movement integrated bus terminals, taught in Freedom Schools, registered black voters and served time in Southern jails. Now they talk frankly about the danger, their mothers’ reactions, and what in their Jewish consciousness propelled them.
by Alice Sparberg Alexiou
Meanwhile, a liberal New York Jewish suburb grappled with black maids and racial integration.