Friday, February 13, 2009
51. I'm a camp counselor at a camp for disadvantaged kids, in Minneapolis.  It's about 1967.  I'm about 15.  I'm extremely shy with the other counselors - it's like an illness, very stressful & depressing.  I feel paranoid much of the time.  I'm better with the kids.  I'm sitting in a rowboat, at the oars, in the middle of the lake, with about 3-4 of them.  One of the girls says to me, "You're Jewish, aren't you?"  I say no, I'm not.  She doesn't believe me - says, "You're name's Jewish.  You look Jewish..."  It's one of those days.  The sun is beating down.  I don't tell her that I'm sort of proud to be mistaken for a Jewish person.  & I realize later that she's just curious, trying to interact.
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