“Ah! After all this is America!

”
Jewish Women’s Autobiographies and
the Experience of Becoming
American
Diplomarbeit

zur Erlangung des akademischen Grades

einer Magistra der Philosophie

an der Karl-Franzens-Universität Graz

vorgelegt von
Cornelia Eicher BA

am Zentrum für Interamerikanische Studien

Begutachterin: Assoz. Prof. Mag. Dr.phil. Ulla Kriebernegg

Graz, 2017
EIDESSTATTLICHE ERKLÄRUNG

Ich erkläre ehrenwörtlich, dass ich die vorliegende Arbeit selbständig und ohne fremde
Hilfe verfasst, andere als die angegebenen Quellen nicht benutzt und die den Quellen
wörtlich oder inhaltlich entnommenen Stellen als solche kenntlich gemacht habe. Die
Arbeit wurde bisher in gleicher oder ähnlicher Form keiner anderen inländischen oder
ausländischen Prüfungsbehörde vorgelegt und auch noch nicht veröffentlicht. Die
vorliegende Fassung entspricht der eingereichten elektronischen Version.

Datum Unterschrift

II
Acknowledgments

I would like to express my sincere gratitude to all the people who supported me during my
studies.

First, I would like to thank Assoz. Prof. Mag. Dr.phil. Ulla Kriebernegg for awakening my
interest in this specific field of studies, for making me leave my comfort zone, as well as for
her invaluable feedback and her answers to my many questions.

I would also like to say thank you to my friends and those who have become more than that.
Danke, merci, gracias, tak, ευχαριστώ and благодаря to all of you, whether I have known you
for years and years or met you during my studies, abroad and in Austria. Thank you for
supporting me and for distracting me when needed!

The biggest thank you goes out to my family. To my siblings, my grandma, my great-aunt and,
above all, to my parents. I would like to thank both of you from the bottom of my heart. Thank
you for the sacrifices that you made and the continuous support that you have shown me my
whole life. Thank you for listening to my problems, for believing in me and for making this
possible!

III
Table of Contents
Introduction .............................................................................................................................. 1

1. Autobiography – A Complex Genre ................................................................................ 3

2. Situating the Texts .......................................................................................................... 13

2.1. Women’s Autobiographies...................................................................................... 14
2.2. Jewish American Autobiographies ........................................................................ 21
2.3. Jewish Migration to America ................................................................................. 28
2.3.1. Historical Background ..................................................................................... 28
2.3.2. Push and Pull Factors ...................................................................................... 30
2.3.3. The Period of Mass Migration 1880-1914 ...................................................... 36

3. Choosing and Analyzing Out of the Shadow and The Promised Land ........................ 39
3.1. Choosing Mary Antin and Rose Cohen ................................................................. 39
3.2. Formal Education .................................................................................................... 43
3.2.1. Education in the Old World ............................................................................ 43
3.2.2. The Situation in America – Public Schools .................................................... 46
3.2.3. Evening and Night ‘Schools’ ........................................................................... 53
3.3. Organizations and Institutions of Americanization ............................................. 55
3.3.1. Migration and Basic Needs .............................................................................. 55
3.3.2. Americanization and Settlement Houses ........................................................ 57
3.3.3. Libraries ............................................................................................................ 64
3.4. Names and Language .............................................................................................. 65
3.4.1. Name Change .................................................................................................... 65
3.4.2. Learning English .............................................................................................. 69
3.5. Physical Appearance and Tradition ...................................................................... 76
3.5.1. A Lack of Hair and New Clothes .................................................................... 76
3.5.2. Showing Your Hair as a Woman .................................................................... 79
3.5.3. Food and the Sabbath ...................................................................................... 84
3.5.4. Generational Differences ................................................................................. 91

Conclusion ............................................................................................................................... 93

Works Cited ............................................................................................................................ 95

IV
Introduction

“Ah! After all this is America!” (Cohen 313) is the quote that I have chosen as part of the title
of this thesis. Even though this remark stands at the end of Rose Cohen’s autobiography Out of
the Shadow (1918), it summarizes the experience of becoming American. This simple statement
depicts the learning process, the constant evolvement and realization of an idea which
immigrants had prior to their departure to the New World, but which was ultimately tested and
altered in the Promised Land of the United States of America. As such, this statement comprises
the place where those immigrants who are willing to acculturate and assimilate want to find
themselves after some time in a new country, for it entails the notion that America and the
mythical perception of it finally make sense.

To reach this point requires the experience of countless hardships and learning processes, since
the experience of becoming American cannot be described as an easy, singular, straight path.
Two different depictions of such paths towards an Americanized self are analyzed in this thesis.
By discussing two autobiographies, namely Mary Antin’s The Promised Land (1912) and Rose
Cohen’s Out of the Shadow (1918), an insight into how two female Jewish immigrants from
Eastern Europe would like to demonstrate such paths is provided. Despite the existence of many
ways of acculturation and assimilation, this narrow focus allows a detailed reading of the
experience within the specific group of Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe, with a special
consideration of the role of gender. This focus shall also support the notion that, regardless of
the similar struggles which immigrants experienced in Eastern Europe, their paths in America
might be entirely different.

The analysis of these autobiographies also necessitates a theoretical framework. Thus, the first
part of this thesis seeks to provide the tools for working with these texts. On the one hand, this
requires an insight into the genre of autobiography. Within this chapter, the peculiarities of this
genre, which shall be kept in mind throughout the whole thesis, are displayed. The second part
is devoted to situating Mary Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s works. In order to achieve this, a
discussion of women’s autobiography is provided. An insight is also given into the field of
Jewish autobiography with a special focus on texts written by American immigrants.
Furthermore, a proper placement of the texts demands an outline of the migration of Eastern
European Jews to America, which is provided as well; this includes historical facts as well as
the circumstances which lead to this specific path of migration.

1
The remaining part of this thesis focuses on the aspects and circumstances which many
immigrants encountered in America on their path towards an Americanized self. In Mary
Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s cases, four major categories which influenced their paths are
identified. These are analyzed by means of both autobiographies, including some theoretical
framework to underline the importance and explain the roles of these categories within the
Eastern European Jewish community in America; this background information is woven into
the analysis. The first two categories, namely organizations and formal education, are largely
influenced by the importance of learning, which is highlighted in theory as well as in the
analysis. The other categories occur on a level of personal change and achievement; language
and the change of religious traditions are part of these categories. By means of these categories,
it is the goal of this paper to examine the portrayal of becoming American in two selected
Jewish American women’s autobiographies. It is argued that these experiences often differed
due to the varying circumstances which the immigrants encountered upon their arrival in
America, but that some general patterns can be identified. These patterns are portrayed in a
distinct way in order to achieve a certain goal that the autobiographer has in mind. This notion
shall be supported with the help of this thesis.

2
 1. Autobiography – A Complex Genre

As many dictionaries suggest, defining autobiography appears to be a simple matter at first

glance, since it merely requires a short phrase, such as “the story of a person’s life written by
himself” (Cambridge Online Dictionary) to understand this term. Simultaneously, however,
this definition seems as vague as many others. At first glance, these definitions seem
straightforward and easy to grasp. Yet, they trigger numerous follow-up questions, such as
‘what classifies a story?’ Defining the genre of autobiography is problematic; thus, several
difficulties and questions relating to the autobiographical genre are discussed in the first chapter
of this diploma thesis in order to provide the framework for the following chapters.

Sidonie Smith and Julia Watson agree that autobiographies appear to be understood easily and
ask “[w]hat could be simpler to understand than the act of people representing what they know
best, their own lives?” (Reading 1). However, Smith and Watson also believe that
understanding autobiographical writing is rather intricate “for the teller of his or her own story
becomes, in the act of narration, both the observing subject and object of investigation,
remembrance, and contemplation” (Reading 1). In her book A Poetics of Women’s
Autobiography: Marginality and the Fictions of Self-Representation, Smith adds that “[t]his
genre, apparently so simple, so self-evident, so readily accessible to the reader, is ultimately as
complex as the subject it seeks to capture in its representation and as various as the rhetorical
expressions through which […] that subjectivity reads itself into the world” (3). Both statements
support the notion that autobiographies are more complex than they might appear to be at first
glance.

In order to support the idea that autobiographies are complex, Smith and Watson also use
Stephen Spender’s suggestion that the autobiographer meets two lives instead of one (Reading
6). It seems rather obvious that there is a self which can be referred to as public, as, for example,
it functions as a member of society. However, it is extremely difficult to discover the other self
that is “experienced only by that person, the self felt from the inside that the writer can never
get ‘outside of’” (Smith and Watson, Reading 6). James Olney highlights this aspect, for he
mentions that what the autobiographer experiences cannot be compared to the experience of the
reader (Metaphors xi). Conclusively, the reader “shall never know what, in his deepest and
inaccessible self, [the autobiographer] was” (Olney, Metaphors xi). Therefore, the role of the
autobiographer and the complexity of the self both add to the intricacy of autobiography,
“which may or may not be a genre” (Adams 3).

3
In order to find out what lies at the core of this literary genre and its problematic aspects, Smith
and Watson decided to provide an alternative definition that splits the term autobiography into
its original segments of meaning and translates them rather than just describing autobiography
with other terms. The basic parts of the word autobiography all derive from Greek and translate
to self (autos), life (bios) and writing (graphe) (Smith and Watson, Reading 1). In itself, this
translation offers a condensed version of a definition, namely self life writing. Despite having
been used for different analyses regarding autobiographies (Adams 1), the translation does not
fully depict the many layers and issues that the act of writing or analyzing an autobiography
includes. In itself, the term autobiography and its translation are problematic and lead to further
considerations.

One of these considerations marks the term self, which is central to this genre. It is a term that
is also included in Tzvi H. Adelman’s chosen definition of autobiography. He refers to
autobiography as “the presentation of one’s self” (116). Similarly to the aforementioned
definitions, this statement sounds rather straightforward; nevertheless, it raises questions.
Adelman continues, stating that “the self, however, cannot be understood in isolation; it must
be explored in relation to others” (116). Thus, he essentially triggers some of the questions one
has to consider when discussing autobiographies, i.e. ‘what is the self?’, ‘how does it relate to
others?’ and ‘how is it presented?’ The answer to the first question about the self often appears
to be blatant. In the case of an autobiography, the self should obviously be the author, who
seems to act as the main protagonist. However, this is not the case. The self constitutes a more
complex matter, as it struggles with issues such as identity and the relation to others. Bearing
this in mind, it becomes clear that the self and its particular role within the autobiographical
genre demand attention, for the self and autobiography coincide, as this genre can be described
as the “generic manifestation” (Smith, “Resisting” 75) of the self.

In effect, it does not suffice to merely refer to two roles of the self, i.e. the subject and the object,
as suggested by Smith and Watson (Reading 1). As Loock argues, the attention has to be
tripartite, for “it is essential to distinguish between the empirical author, the narrator and the
protagonist” (213). While the “empirical author remains outside the text” (Loock 213) despite
producing the actual text and providing the stories that the autobiography entails, “narrator and
protagonist form two distinct narratological categories” (214). The narrator recounts the story
of the protagonist in retrospective, while the protagonist finds his/her own self immersed in the
text, i.e. experiencing the incidents during the time when they actually take place. The narrator
perceives the protagonist’s story from a different point of view, for the “narrating I […]

4
considers itself to be Americanized” (214) in contrast to the “experiencing I” (214), who still
finds him/herself within the story. Conclusively, one can say that the self is all but a simple
matter.

Besides the awareness of the different functions of the self, it is also important to explore how
the self relates to others. The relation to others can be investigated in a variety of ways. For
example, the society one lives in, as well as religious groups, the relationship to god or, in the
case of women, the relationship to men or one man in particular, can play a role in how one
perceives one’s own self. This further contributes to how one wants to portray his/herself, which
constitutes an essential factor in autobiographies due to the fact that the author decides on
aspects that he or she either wants to hide or reveal with a particular goal in mind. Regarding
this issue, Adelman states that “writers can take their starting points either as members of a
community, for whom self-discovery is based on a realization of how one’s self differs from
that of other members of the community, or as individuals exploring how their selfhood is
similar to others” (116). This statement highlights the importance of the relation to others within
autobiographies.

In Mary Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s cases, such communities might be the Jewish community,
as well as workers’, women’s or immigrant communities. Their autobiographical works are
even referred to as “Jewish women’s autobiography” (Adelman 116), which already assigns
Antin and Cohen to certain categories. These categorizations are often used by publishers in
order to place literary texts among other published works. Due to the communities involved,
this categorization is problematic in itself. It might trigger the following thoughts and questions
as proposed by Adelman: “if a woman is writing her life, how does it reflect the experience of
Jews? If she is writing as a Jew, how does it reflect the experience of women? And if she is
writing as an individual, to what extent does she reflect the experience of either community—
Jews or women?” (116). These identity-related considerations emphasize the issues one
encounters within the genre of autobiography and the discussions in connection to it. The
tradition and debates related to autobiographies within these communities are discussed in the
following subchapter.

The questions that Adelman chooses with regard to the autobiographer’s immediate
communities lead to another issue, which autobiographers deal with during the writing process,
namely identity. Steven J. Rubin declares that identity marks one of the dual factors of the
autobiographical genre. Thus, identity cannot be separated from this genre, for autobiographies
show “undeniably an exploration of personal identity” (Rubin 178). With regard to immigrant
5
autobiographies, this appears to be even more evident. Roberta Maierhofer states that it is
almost natural for people who leave their home country and migrate—or even flee—to a new
country, to treat identity as an important theme in their texts (55). The self and one’s relation to
the self and others plays a role with regard to identity, as many autobiographers also embark on
a journey to find their true self while writing their life story (Adelman 116; Maierhofer 55).
Due to the drastic changes that migrants and—in particular—refugees experience, the identity
issue is naturally present in migrant autobiographies. Being excluded from the home society
and culture, which had helped to form one’s identity up until the point of migration, as well as
experiencing the clash that occurs with the unknown—in this case American—culture, lead to
identity issues, as the migrant becomes aware of the significant differences between the old and
the new (Maierhofer 55).

Besides the sense of self and other identity-related aspects, reliability constitutes another factor
that plays a major role within the genre of autobiography. This aspect exceeds the common
question in literary analysis of whether the narrator is reliable and can be trusted, as the narrator
of autobiographies narrates the writer’s instead of someone else’s story. Thus, autobiographies
are usually expected to include truthful accounts. Adelman refers to the issue of reliability in
autobiographies as a “paradox” (116). On this account, he states that

the writers appear to offer first-hand information, factual repositories of historical data,
and a faithful telling of their lives, and readers usually accept them as reliable sources of
both memory and history. Upon closer examination, however, autobiographies are
usually found to contain a mixture of omission and embellishment, exaggeration and
understatement, candid confession and outright invention, presenting significant
challenges to their use as historical sources. (Adelman 116)

According to Steven Weiland, numerous scholars dealing with the field of autobiography, share
Adelman’s perception of reliability (157). In order to elaborate on this issue, Weiland decides
to focus on the terms that are used to describe autobiographies, namely tale and story. On this
account, it is important to be aware that “tale or story […] can refer to fact or fiction” (157),
which suggests that autobiographers do indeed omit and alter the past consciously, hence
influencing their reliability. Therefore, terms such as tale or story, which also serve as
categorizations, add to the problematic concept of this genre, since tales and stories are often
fictional.

These definitions further support Weiland’s idea that the product of “writing [is] made from the
events of a life only as they [the authors] remembered, or more accurately, reconstructed [it]”
6
(157). The terms fact and fiction, as well as tale or story, highlight the idea that every
autobiography is a reconstruction of one’s own memory and ultimately of what the author wants
the reader to know. This observation is summed up in a statement by Victor S. Pritchett, who
believes that “[a]ll autobiography is a selection of the past written from the standpoint of the
present” (24). In its simplicity, this sentence both includes the importance of the element of
selection, in addition to the idea that the present influences this choice and how the writer
decides to compose a text about this selection of apparent memories.

Adelman further notes that “memory is not a fixed point, but a changing story. […] Time, space,
memory, and language thus separate the self presented in an autobiography from that of the
author of the work” (118), which coincides with Kathleen Loock’s suggestion of tripartition
(213). In spite of the temporal and spatial separation, Linda Anderson deduces from Virginia
Woolf’s Collected Essays that simultaneously, “it is not possible to separate lives from books,
or identities from how they are represented” (96). On the one hand, separation does occur due
to spatial and temporal distances; on the other hand, the author’s life and how he/she decides to
present it always coalesce. Regardless of this coalescence, Smith and Watson also highlight the
fact that both timing and time itself play an important role in the autobiographical genre
(Reading 6), which can be explained in simple terms. In contrast to an autobiographer, “for a
biographer the death of the subject is not definitive. A biography can be written either during
the life or after the death of the person being written about” (Smith and Watson, Reading 6).
While time is particularly crucial in the relationship of the autobiographer to the text, it cannot
be too far removed from the actual events that are addressed in the autobiography, since “for
the life writer […], death is the end of the matter” (6). This observation also supports the
aforementioned notion that one finds a “distance between protagonist-self and narrator-self”
(Loock 209); it even expands the idea of this distance, as it includes the third category, i.e. the
author of the text (214).

However, the temporal and personal distance does not necessarily imply that autobiographies
are less objective and/or more truthful than biographies. For example, Adelman argues “that
faithfulness in conveying this information [e.g. historical information] [is] not [even] a priority
for the [autobiographical] writer, making these the least significant aspects of an
autobiography” (117). It rather leads to the “incorporat[ion] [of] usable facts into subjective
‘truth’” (Smith and Watson, Reading 13) and not to a factual historical account. This shows that
the term truth needs to be treated cautiously within autobiographies, as the depiction of facts
rarely marks the aim of the autobiographer. Conclusively, Adelman’s and Weiland’s statements

7
support the notion that one cannot fully trust autobiographies, as autobiographical works cannot
offer a complete and truthful account due to the way memory works, as well as due to the
conscious decisions autobiographers make when writing a story about their own lives. On this
account, Anderson even remarks that “much of what we think of as ‘true’ or historically given,
is really an ideological construct; in other words, a fiction” (Anderson 96).

Nevertheless, an autobiography still possesses the potential to be received and understood as

some kind of a history, but it should not merely be perceived as such. This specific history is
one “of the writing/speaking subject, however, life narrative cannot be reduced to or understood
only as historical record” (Smith and Watson, Reading 13). After all, one might produce an
account of one’s personal life as an autobiographer, yet one does so intentionally (Weiland
157); thus, autobiographies do not provide a truthful, complete and objective account of the
past, which is sometimes expected by the reader. Ultimately,

autobiographies are letters to the past. […] [They] offer a mixture of catharsis and fantasy.
They serve the writer as an opportunity to tell events as she or he would like them
remembered and as she or he would like them to have happened. Autobiographies are
both an aid to memory and a tool for forgetting. (Adelman 124)

Regardless of this awareness, autobiographies, as well as many other types of texts, serve as a
good source of information in order to get an insight into the authors’ lives and the era during
which they lived and composed their autobiographies, even if the information provided has to
be treated cautiously (Adelman 117). Nevertheless, as pointed out by Smith and Watson,
“sometimes people read autobiographical narratives as historical documents, sources of
evidence for the analysis of historical movements, events, or persons” (Reading 13). While
caution is advised with regard to the factuality of autobiography, Rubin supports this point of
view and declares that a certain amount of historicity, “reflecting the concerns of society and
culture” (178) is unavoidable. Regardless of the issues regarding reliability, these statements
support the notion that autobiographies offer an insight into the historical setting and social
concerns of a distinct time, even if certain aspects are altered or fictionalized in addition to the
limitation of the view depicted in each autobiography.

This further leads to the notion of truth. Susanna Egan even mentions that “[she] first asked
[her]self whether autobiography did not have to be true in order to mean anything at all” (ix).
By stating this, she makes an important point, since autobiographies are commonly expected to
depict one’s actual life. Yet, Egan also feels the need to name a chapter in her book The
Inevitability of Fiction, which addresses the issue of fact and fiction in autobiographies. In the
8
first sentence of this chapter, Egan makes the assumption that “the autobiographer begins his
work with a clear sense of himself […]” (14), which seems logical, as one is about to compose
a text about oneself in this specific instant. However, this first sentence finishes with the
following phrase: “[…] to which he would like to be true” (Egan 14). This statement supports
the notion that conscious decision-making regarding what needs to be included in one’s
autobiography is crucial, as the picture, which the autobiographer would like to create of his/her
self, demands selection with regard to the writer’s life and memories.

Regarding truth as a problematic aspect of this genre, Adams claims that “[a] promise to tell
the truth is one of autobiography’s earliest promises” (9), which ties in with Egan’s initial
thought about the role of truth (ix). However, Adams also argues that contemporary recipients
of autobiographies have noticed that “telling the truth about oneself on paper is virtually
impossible” (9), regardless of the intentions of the writer, who cannot be sure about how long
something remains to be true. Additionally, readers do often not find themselves in a position
to judge whether the content of a text is actually true; neither can “writers separate poetic truth
from factual truth, psychological truth from family truth” (9), as after all, truth is a construct.
The fact that one fraction of the genre of autobiography, such as the constructed concept of
truth, constitutes such a complex factor highlights the intricacy of the genre in general.
Nevertheless, a “most widely accepted position” (Adams 10) exists, namely that of Eakin, who
states that “autobiographical truth is not a fixed but an evolving content in an intricate process
of self-discovery and self-creation” (3). In effect, this statement demonstrates the intricacy of
truth within autobiography; it also ties in with Adelman’s proposition regarding memory, which
he describes as a shifting element (118), as aforementioned.

Interestingly, sometimes authors demonstrate their sense of self-awareness with regard to

fiction in autobiographies. For example, Janice Galloway entitled her autobiographical works
accordingly. Her first autobiographical work reads This Is Not About Me on the cover page; the
second text is entitled All Made Up. This shows that autobiographers are aware of the
dichotomy of truth and fiction within this genre and some, like Galloway, seem to play with it
(Engel 451). In addition, Egan points out that it is not always easy to differentiate fiction from
truth. According to her, it can seem as if “fiction [was] true because it truly expresses aspects
of human nature and experience” (x). While she admits that fiction can appear truthful, Egan
further suggests that “autobiography is fictive in its turning to these forms in order to say
whatever is more than commonplace” (x). Conclusively, it is indeed challenging to define

9
autobiography and fictive works by means of markers like fact and fiction, which both play an
important role, even though they are problematic concepts.

Due to this complexity, Adams speaks of a “peculiar kind of truth” (3) which one finds in
autobiographical writings. The creation of this truth is facilitated “through a narrative composed
of the author’s metaphors of self that attempt to reconcile the individual events of a lifetime by
using a combination of memory and imagination” (Adams 3). This accentuates the peculiarity
of truth in autobiographies. Furthermore, Adams notes that “all [of the above is] performed in
a unique act that partakes of a therapeutic fiction making” (3), which draws attention to the
presence of fiction in autobiographies. Despite the idea that autobiographies are “rooted in what
really happened” (3), they consist of both truthful and false elements, which mold
autobiographies into a form of writing which is artistically influenced (Chamberlain and
Thompson 1; Adams 3).

Besides functioning as fictional features, these false elements can be described as lies.
Autobiographical lies coincide with matters of truth within autobiography. As Robert F. Sayre
argues, “[a]utobiographers, like everybody else, sometimes lie” (6). Categorizing elements as
lies remains problematic, for elements of “exaggeration, irony, or understatement” (6), which
have also been addressed by Adelman (116), can be perceived as lies as well. Lying might occur
consciously, but the writer might be unaware of his lies (Sayre 6). Thus, truth-telling and lying
necessarily tie in with memory. Memory, as already mentioned, has the power to change
(Adelman 118). Depending on the nature of one’s experiences, one might forget or ignore
certain memories, while others seem persistent (Sayre 6). It is certainly important to
acknowledge the power of the writer’s conscious choices; however, even the writer might
sometimes fall victim to his/her own memory or, rather, the lack thereof.

Despite the presence of fiction in autobiographies, Margo Culley argues that one can
differentiate fiction from autobiography. She suggests that there is “one feature that
distinguishes autobiography from fiction [namely] persistence [or even] insistence, with which
autobiography talks explicitly about itself” (18). Yet, among other features such as the use of
“forewords, afterwords, and a variety of direct addresses to the reader” (Culley 18), which are
often attributed to autobiographies, these ideas are not exclusive to this genre. Originally, some
of these characteristics were mainly used in fictional works of the 1800s, but they have survived
in a number of autobiographies, in contrast to “hav[ing] been abandoned in most novels”
(Culley 18). Due to the wide variety of fiction that exists nowadays, however, statements such
as the ones by Culley need to be treated with caution, as novels can be written in many forms,
10
including features that are frequently used in autobiographies. Nevertheless, Culley’s ideas add
to the notion that describing and defining autobiographies is extremely problematic.

Egan even suggests that it is actually “the activity of writing [that] interferes between [the
writer’s] past and the written word that he creates” (1), which implies that composing a text
actually hinders the author in his/her composition of a truthful account of his/her life.
Nonetheless, these aspects might even increase the general interest in autobiographies, as the
reader never knows what to expect. As Pritchett argues,

in reading autobiography, the reader is silently altering it to suit his own life as he goes
along. He has, like the writer, fallen into the mysterious sea of memory and is struggling
to find out who he is and who he was and to catch firm hold of the obsession that keeps
him afloat. (25)

From this statement, one can deduce that the genre of autobiography seems particularly enticing
due to its complexity, as well as due to the special relationship that the reader might establish
with the writer. As suggested by Sayre, “both reading and writing autobiographies can be very
revealing experiences” (16). Besides all the points mentioned above, a remark by Candace Lang
adds to the complexity. She states that “autobiography is indeed everywhere one cares to find
it” (6). This summarizes one of the most prevalent issues with regard to autobiographical
writings, because it is further pointed out that “if the writer is always, in the broadest sense,
implicated in the work, any writing may be judged to be autobiographical, depending on how
one reads it” (Anderson 1). This also highlights the importance of the reader, for the reader has
the power to read autobiographies in a certain way, as stated by Pritchett (25).

Although the genre of autobiography and its definition are complex matters, a wide number of
readers are interested in this genre, which Olney even calls “the most appealing form of
literature” (Metaphors vii). He receives support from Maria DiBattista and Emily O. Wittman
who argue that “as a cursory glance at any current bestseller list will testify, public appetite for
the genre in all of its forms appears insatiable” (1). Culley praises this genre by arguing that
“[i]t would be hard to point to a field of contemporary literary studies more vibrant than
autobiography studies” (3). This “literature of the ‘self’” (Smith, “Resisting” 75) is a genre that
“deeply engages our interest and holds it” (Olney, Metaphors vii), as autobiographies educate
us about other cultures, regions and eras, as well as it makes us grasp the aforementioned aspects
of one’s life (Olney vii). It definitely manages to facilitate our understanding of someone else’s
life; yet, autobiographies need to be treated cautiously due to the issues of reliability, the
functioning of what we believe to be our memory and the interplay of fact and fiction.
11
Despite these issues, the existence of autobiography as a genre of literature has been
acknowledged for more than two hundred years. The aspects attributed to this genre that have
been described as issues earlier in this chapter, such as “authorship, selfhood, representation
and the division between fact and fiction” (Anderson 2), are also notions that are used and tested
in order to discuss autobiographies. Simultaneously, these aspects add to the concept of
autobiography and to the reasons for wanting to “contain and control it within disciplinary
boundaries […] and many literary critics have turned to definitions as a way of stamping their
academic authority on an unruly and even slightly disputable field” (Anderson 2). Hence, this
chapter shall be closed by referring to such definitions.

Philippe Lejeune’s definition, even if he was not fully satisfied with it, is widespread and
describes the genre as follows: “[a] retrospective prose narrative produced by a real person
concerning his own existence, focusing on his individual life, in particular on the development
of his personality” (Lejeune 193). Undeniably, this definition offers more of an explanation
than the ones discussed in the beginning of this chapter; yet it does not fully cover the range of
this genre, nor does this definition manage to fully distinguish it from other genres (Anderson
2). Interestingly, Olney, who has contributed significantly to research related to autobiography,
claims that he has not been satisfied with any definition of this genre and would suggest to refer
to his research as “exploratory in nature rather than definitive” (Olney, Memory xvi, qtd. in
DiBattista and Wittman 2). Sayre summarizes this issue by stating that “[i]t is also easy, or not
easy, to define autobiography” (3). This statement highlights the complexities of the genre,
which renders “creating an airtight definition of autobiography […] virtually impossible”
(Adams 2); simultaneously it refers to the notion that everyone has a common idea about
autobiography.

As a reader of autobiographies, I also share some common ideas about this genre: it is a genre
of self life writing, of telling someone’s story, of crafting a personal history. Yet, it is important
to acknowledge the issues which were mentioned above, for every autobiography is
individually and consciously shaped by the author. Concurrently, autobiographical texts are
also shaped unconsciously by one’s own memory and personality. After all, they can provide
information regarding certain eras, societal norms and living conditions. However, this
portrayal occurs with a specific goal in mind. This purpose distinguishes one author from
another and shapes the author’s experience of writing and recapitulating his own life or the idea
thereof, as well as it influences the reader’s experience.

12
 2. Situating the Texts

As aforementioned, categories such as religion and gender, as well as the relation to others play
an important role with regard to autobiographies. In the case of Mary Antin and Rose Cohen,
one can speak of several categories, which each constitute distinct subgroups of the
autobiographical genre. Thus, this chapter seeks to situate both texts with regard to their group
membership. Firstly, the category of women’s autobiographies is discussed. Despite the
magnitude of this genre, an insight into some problems and general patterns shall be provided.
Secondly, Jewish American autobiographical writings are addressed. Since these often coincide
with the immigrant experience, immigrant autobiographies are discussed in the second
subchapter as well. As in the case of Antin and Cohen, these categories cannot always be strictly
separated, since the importance of one category is often determined by another. Yet both
categories deserve to be treated separately, for each category influenced the lives and writings
of both authors.

Likewise, the background of Mary Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s migration to America requires
discussion. It shall be argued that the specific circumstances of their migration contributed to
their attitude towards a variety of aspects which they encountered in America. After all, both
authors migrated along with millions of immigrants in the decades pre- and succeeding the turn
of the twentieth century, which influenced the course of their lives in America. The reasons
which lead to this movement need to be examined as well, for they shaped the attitudes of
Eastern European Jewish immigrants. Thus, the historical background and the circumstances
are addressed in the third part of this chapter.

Before continuing with the aforementioned chapters, information regarding the interplay of the
category of women’s and Jewish autobiography shall be provided. Placing Mary Antin’s and
Rose Cohen’s autobiographies amidst Jewish works necessitates a brief statement on the role
of women in Jewish culture, for the female and the Jewish category they are ascribed to shape
one another. This becomes evident when considering how strongly defined womanhood was—
and at times still is—in Judaism. Therefore, belonging to the Jewish faith also determines one’s
sense of self as a woman. As Moskowitz, who mainly addresses Jews of Ashkenazi origin,
states: “in the past expectations of Jewish women in the Jewish community have been
essentially conservative” (qtd. in Siegel 32), which clearly shaped the idea of women and
female virtues in the past. “A Jewish woman’s canvas,” as Moskowitz explains, “[…] would
depict the details of domesticity, the food and furnishings and the ritual celebrations” (qtd. in
Siegel 32). Despite these perceptions, some female writers still succeeded in finding their own
13
“literary voices” (Siegel 32). Overall, this shows that gendered roles need to be kept in mind
when situating literary works in the field of Jewish literature. Yet, these roles also need to be
treated cautiously and examined individually, for they differ depending on the spatial and
temporal setting of the author.

The importance of being Jewish and a woman is also described in Uffen’s Strands of the Cable,
which examines how Jewish American women writers treat the past in their literary works.
While some “questions of identity” (Uffen 6), which are commonly asked in autobiographies,
concern women rather than men, they can often not be classified as exclusively gender-related.
On this account, Uffen remarks that “[t]o be a woman who is Jewish in America bears resonance
well beyond the (relatively) simple issue of gender” (6). This statement demonstrates that
merely considering one of the categories Mary Antin and Rose Cohen can be ascribed to does
not suffice. Moreover, the degree of one’s personal Jewishness, both in terms of religion and
culture, plays a role, as being more Jewish often coincides with a “more complex life […] [and]
relation to being a woman and to being American” (6). Both categories combined shape one’s
life as a Jewish woman, even if the degree to which they each influence one’s life might vary.
Thus, the intersectionality of Jewishness and womanhood, regardless of how both are defined
in specific cases, becomes evident.

After all, Jewish women who immigrated to the United States were “heir[s] to a 3,500-year-old
religious and historical tradition” (Baum et al. 3). As Charlotte Baum et al. argue, this applies
to Jewish women despite the comparably short history of Jews in America and regardless of the
degree to which they execute Jewish traditions. While one cannot deny the impact of these old
traditions and views with regard to newly-arrived Jewish immigrants, matters have also evolved
and women, as well as men, are constantly changing and adjusting to their new environment.
This is also true for female Jewish writers in America, who arrived with a “shaped woman’s
[Jewish] self-image” (Baum 3), but developed new ideas as women in the Promised Land.

2.1. Women’s Autobiographies

It is not an easy task to outline this branch of autobiographical writing, for it is as diverse as
women can be. Nonetheless, it is attempted to select information that appears to be useful with
regard to the chosen autobiographical texts. This helps situate Antin’s and Cohen’s works and
contributes to establishing a framework for this paper. In order to achieve this goal, an insight
into the issues and background of women’s autobiographies is provided.

14
According to Adelman, “[m]any attempts have been made in the theoretical literature to
characterize women’s autobiography” (119). For example, Adelman draws on a theory
proposed by Mary Mason in her article “Autobiographies of Women Writers”; this article
suggests that women’s autobiographies can be analyzed in contrast to autobiographies by men,
due to the different experiences they usually decide to narrate. Mason claims that women’s
autobiographies highlight the importance of their relation to others, whereas male
autobiographers tend to “experience a dramatic conversion or victory in a battle of opposing
forces in their lives” (Adelman 119). Carolyn G. Heilbrun supports this idea; she states that
“[i]dentity is grounded through relation to the chosen other. Without such relation, women do
not feel able to write openly about themselves […]” (24). This statement describes the perpetual
interplay of identity-related issues, the self and the other, which applies to autobiographies in
general and, to an even larger extent, to women’s autobiographies.

In her research, Culley has paid attention to the differences between women’s and men’s
autobiographies as well; her main differentiating observation lies in numbers. Culley
discovered that autobiographies written by American women are significantly lower in number
than those written by male autobiographers. Yet, she treats her own statement cautiously and
reduces it to the numbers that are actually published, as one cannot tell whether women do
actually not compose as many autobiographical texts as men (Culley 6). For this information,
she partly draws on bibliographies such as Louis Kaplan’s A Bibliography of American
Autobiography, in which women’s autobiographies take up less than twenty percent of the space
(Culley 5-6).1 The reasons for this discrepancy remain speculative to some extent, as different
factors, such as the role of women in society and the supposedly domestic lives of women might
have played a differing role in certain women’s lives.

While one can only speculate about some aspects that have contributed to the relative lack of
women’s autobiographies, education can definitely be determined as one of the contributing
factors. As Estelle C. Jelinek points out, “[f]emale diaries and autobiographies increased as
literacy and educational opportunities for women improved” (5-6). Conversely, the preceding
absence of these opportunities also resulted in a comparably small amount of written output by
women prior to these developments, which partly explains the low percentage of women’s
autobiographies in bibliographies such as the one by Kaplan. Nevertheless, women such as
Antin and Cohen, who wrote and published from the 1890s until World War I, were in good

1
Mary Antin’s three autobiographical texts have separate entries in Louis Kaplan’s book A Bibliography of
American Autobiography (entries 159-161, p. 10). Rose Cohen’s autobiography can be found as well (entry
1138, p. 59).
15
company (Jelinek 5-6). This timeframe marks one of “the peak periods of autobiographical
productivity” (6) and is also referred to as the Progressive Era. The other peak period occurs
later in the century, “during the late 1960s and 1970s” (6). While American men’s heights of
productivity in terms of diaries and autobiographies often coincide with major developments in
American history, women wrote less during times such as the Gold Rush, but have come to
produce a significant amount of autobiographical works during times that were crucial for
women’s history and female emancipation (5-6).

In addition to the observation that women’s education and emancipation has played a role in
their levels of autobiographical productivity, the figures in bibliographies about
autobiographies also depend on what one decides to classify as an autobiography. Academics
often make a conscious choice regarding the classification of certain texts, yet women “may
write autobiographically, choosing other languages of self-writing” (Smith, Poetics 44), which
are not classified as such. These works conclusively lack representation in the bibliographies
that list autobiographies. Keeping this in mind, such bibliographies might not offer an overview
of autobiographical texts in the broader sense. Of course, if this is the case, it applies to female
and male writers. Yet, women seem to have a more special relationship to other
autobiographical forms of writing such as letters; for example, Katherine R. Goodman has
argued that “it is a fact that women have established a special subgenre for themselves” (171),
namely the Briefautobiographie. This supports the notion that a strict categorization of
autobiographical works might exclude women’s works in particular.

It is also noteworthy that literary criticism that focuses on autobiographies hardly mentioned
women’s autobiographies at all until the 1970s. In the introduction to Women’s Autobiography.
Essays in Criticism, Estelle C. Jelinek remarks that it was not usual to refer to many women’s
autobiographies in literary criticism in spite of their numerous existence prior to the 1980s
(Jelinek 1-4). This lack of discussion of women’s autobiographies occurred despite the notion
that autobiography as a genre has received considerable attention by literary critics since the
1930s, when “a revival of interest in their critical analysis” (1) arose. This interest mainly
applied to works by male autobiographers. For example, Stephen Spender and Georges
Gusdorf, who are consulted frequently in this field, do not mention any women’s
autobiographies in their works. Critical works on the genre which date back to before the 1980s
rarely refer to any women’s works beside Gertrude Stein’s Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas
(Jelinek 1-4). Jelinek concludes that the word that best describes a majority of the critics’
attitudes towards women’s life stories is “insignificant” (5).

16
Years after Jelinek’s publication, in 1994, Leigh Gilmore still deemed it necessary to mention
that one can detect a “near absence of women’s self-representational texts from the critical
histories that authorize autobiography” (1). She concludes that this “indicates the extent to
which the genre that functions as the closest textual version of the political ideology of
individualism is gendered as “male” (Gilmore 1). While Jelinek and Gilmore both based their
observation on the general treatment of texts by female autobiographers, it also seems to be
particularly important for this paper. Not only did Jewish women autobiographers experience a
lack of critical attention well into the 1990s, but female Jewish writers, with a few exceptions
such as Mary Antin, were often generally ignored by critics within the branch of Jewish
American literature (Uffen 2).

These observations tie in with Susan G. Bell and Marilyn Yalom’s statement that “[m]en rarely
make an issue of their gender because the generic masculine has been the norm in Western
society for at least three millennia” (7). It seems logical then that especially white women tend
to feel the need to refer to their gender explicitly on the cover pages of their works (Culley 7-
8). Therefore, additionally to the writers’ names which usually reveal the author’s gender “often
white women autobiographers reinscribe their gender in the title of their texts despite the
redundancy of that act” (Culley 7). This can be achieved either by explicitly using one’s name
in the title or by including terms such as woman, girl, mother or daughter, the latter of which
both suggest a relationship to other (possibly male) people. According to Culley, in recent times
approximately twenty percent of female autobiographers that are classified as white have used
such “sign[s] of gender” (7). Other markers that are often used in titles are professions and skin
color. The aspect of skin color usually outweighs gender-related terms, which is why the
aforementioned twenty percent only apply to white women. However, there are also black
writers who include both characteristics in the titles of their autobiographies, while white
autobiographers—both female and male—rarely define themselves racially in their
autobiography titles. Overall, in contrast to women, men tend to use descriptive terms that are
related to gender less frequently (Culley 7-8).

Regarding this notion, Culley states the following in reference to Elizabeth Spelman’s
Inessential Woman: Problems of Exclusion in Feminist Thought (55): “for women to have a
gender identity is itself a ‘race’ privilege. That is, for white women who need not think of
themselves in racial terms, gender becomes the foundational category for self-organization”
(Culley 8). This observation seems essential since it depicts that autobiographers seem to
prioritize one of the groups that they identify with depending on current pressing issues and

17
what needs to be highlighted on the cover page. Yet, examples of autobiographies that do not
adhere to any rules of categorization in their titles exist as well (Culley 8-9).

In order to find the reason for the need to include certain information in the title of an
autobiography, in her text “Resisting the Gaze of Embodiment: Women’s Autobiography in the
Nineteenth Century”, Sidonie Smith has suggested that this issue might go back to the I that
everyone uses and includes. However, this I is problematic, as it is considered to be a gendered
word—a male word. As Smith argues, it “takes up its position on the page […] and marks
everything in and between the lines of its appropriative interpretations. […] [It] appears unitary,
bold, indivisible” (“Resisting” 79). Besides being considered male due to this, it is also
suggested that the usual I is considered white (Smith, “Resisting” 80). Consequently, it seems
logical that non-white women in particular tend to accentuate either their race or their gender
(if not both) on the cover page.

In A Poetics of Women’s Autobiography, Smith adds more information to this issue. She argues
that for women who are assigned to a variety of categories, such as color- or work-related ones,
the issue becomes more complex as “she [the autobiographer] is doubly or triply the subject of
other people’s representations, turned again and again in stories that reflect and promote certain
forms of selfhood identified with class, race, and nationality as well as with sex” (Poetics 51).
Ultimately, Smith argues that all of the “ideologies” of the assigned categories “intersect and
confound those of gender” (Poetics 51). Thus, it appears logical that some groups beside the
one related to womanhood are mentioned on the cover pages of autobiographies, for these
groups consciously contradict the general norm of white, young, heterosexual men.

In relation to groups, Culley has pointed out that “[a]ll of this bibliographical evidence is simply
to argue the obvious point that the construction of self in the American context […] begins
within one or more given and heavily ideological categories” (9). As aforementioned, both the
self and the issue related to identity are complex. Yet, Culley suggests that while one uses
categories and the other to define one’s self, autobiographies of white women might also be
viewed “in contestation with the content of the dominant culture’s sign ‘WOMAN’” (9). This
sign encounters a contestation through the simple act of writing autobiographies, as women
who write decide not to be silent within a society, which often considers silence as a female
virtue. Throughout the nineteenth century, writing autobiographies as a woman was connected
to a variety of feelings that linked to the judgmental statements that women autobiographers
faced upon publishing their life story. Therefore, many of them decided to defend themselves
and their motivation to write about their lives in their autobiographies. These women gave
18
reasons as to why they decided to write and publish their life story (Culley 11-13). Despite
providing such reasons, they decided to write, which facilitated female empowerment, since
female writers decided against being silent.

Nevertheless, the whole period between the 1600s until the early 1900s was marked by “an
acute self-consciousness of the criticism they [i.e. female autobiographers] often aroused
simply because they were female” (Winston 93). The early 1900s mark the period in which
Antin and Cohen wrote the works that are discussed in this paper. Many women who were
active during this time “show[ed] ambivalence about being professional writers at a time when
the usual pattern for a female was immersion in domesticity” (Winston 94). This aspect was
part of the reason why female autobiographers and writers faced judgment and criticism to a
large extent. Consequently, it also played a role with regard to justification, as it ties in with the
cultural values and expectations of that time. For example, “fourteen autobiographers of
professional women writers, published between 1852 and 1965, […] express their desire to
interest and entertain their readers, defend past actions, or leave a record for their children”
(94). All of these desires share a feature, namely that they are all designed to cover the needs
of other people and to satisfy society’s idea of womanliness (94).

On the one hand, women have experienced judgment from others when writing
autobiographies. On the other hand, DiBattista argues that “[a]utobiography offers the chance
and means to judge as well as represent oneself” (210). This shows that women do not only
face judgment from others, but they might also judge their own life and character as composers
of autobiographies. Early writers often faced a lack of “criteria for judgment and thus often felt
ill-equipped to decide how typical (normal) their character and their experience might be”
(DiBattista 210). Conclusively, they encountered difficulties; this lead to a variety of results
which often stood in contrast to each other with regard to self-appraisal. Some women thought
highly of themselves, while other women can be described as autobiographers “whose social
circumstances, education and temperament incline them to consider their character as
aberrations, deviations from the norm rather than inspiring exceptions to it” (210). Women at
either end of the spectrum faced similar difficulties, but due to their diverse characters they
reacted differently to it.

Regardless of the success that various female writers enjoyed, they seemed to have succumbed
to the societal “pressures on women to fulfill cultural expectations for their sex” (Winston 95).
Consequently, the pressure must have been strong, as these women felt obliged to refer to these
norms and appear womanly to the audience. With regard to this, Elizabeth Winston also
19
highlights the relationship to others, in particular the relationship to men, whether this concerns
husbands or fathers seems irrelevant, since “women were [generally] inferior to men” (95).
Furthermore, modesty was described as a womanly virtue and they were not expected to publish
their creative products (Winston 95). Bearing these attitudes in mind, it becomes evident why
women were not as present in literature in general and more specifically, in the field of
autobiography, for such texts reveal a lot about their lives.

Moreover, Heilbrun states that female autobiographers “do not feel entitled to credit for their
own accomplishment” (24). This suggests that justification and modesty were considered
virtues, as “[w]ell into the twentieth century, it continued to be impossible for women to admit
into their autobiographical narratives the claim of achievement, the admission of ambition, the
recognition that accomplishment was neither luck nor the result of the efforts or generosity of
others” (Heilbrun 24). Thus, women often tend to depict their lives differently from what their
letters or diaries might suggest; they offer a version of themselves that can be described “as
intuitive, nurturing, passive, but never—in spite of the contrary evidence of their
accomplishments—managerial” (24). Although women decided to speak up and share their life
stories with the world, they often remained within a cage, which can be related to “gender as
well as race” (Culley 7). Ultimately, women often adhered to certain values and standards even
if they finally decided to break the womanly silence they were often expected to hold.

While a lot of women’s autobiographies include terms such as girl(hood) or woman(hood) in

the title, which establishes a link between female writers, it needs to be stated that “women are
so diverse and live in such varied cultural, racial, and economic circumstances that we cannot
possibly pretend to speak in a single voice” (Lionnet xi). Maria DiBattista took the idea of
diversity a step further and argued that “[t]he first question posed by women’s autobiographies
is whether in fact such a literature genuinely exists” (208). An answer cannot be found easily
and yet, one cannot simply neglect this question. Even though a lot of gender-related research
has already been conducted, it is not easy to conclude “what role, if any, gender plays in the
way life is remembered and told” (DiBattista 208). In 1987, Smith even remarked that
“women’s true autobiography remains to be written, since women writers have, until recently,
only reinscribed male writing” (Poetics 18). Hence, she also questions the genre per se.

Critics who have worked with autobiographies from a feminist background “have [mostly]
agreed that there is a lived reality that differs for men and women” (Gilmore x). In other words,
women “respond differently to experience—indeed, have different experiences—from men”
(Uffen 3). Even though this plays a role with regard to the differences displayed in
20
autobiographies written by men and women, it remains questionable as to how this is shown in
autobiographical texts (Gilmore x). Research has yet to prove that both remembrance and the
act of telling play a crucial role in this subgenre which distinguishes it from autobiographies
written by men. As of now research can only claim “that biology and culture conspire to ensure
that women experience life differently than men” (DiBattista 208). However, it cannot be
agreed whether this perception suffices to form the conclusion that these aspects define
women’s autobiographies (208), regardless of the “cultural and literary differences posed by
gender” (Siegel 32), which, according to Siegel, can be identified in Jewish American literature
(32).

This statement is essential, as it partly allows women’s autobiographies to be considered a

distinct field of studies. Overall, it is important to remember that women’s autobiographies have
often been treated differently from men’s. One also has to acknowledge the fact that texts within
the field of women’s autobiographies differ a lot due to a variety of factors; even when women
share another—perhaps racial or religious—category besides being women, one cannot
conclude that their lives and what they have experienced are necessarily similar. Such a
conclusion requires an individual analysis of these works in which parallels can often be found.
While the portrayal of similar themes often differs due to personal decisions and individual
aims, it is important to acknowledge these similarities. It is also necessary to look at the groups
the authors do share in addition to the category of women and to explore whether these
categories had an even more significant impact on their writing. Thus, the next subchapter shall
explore the subgenre of Jewish autobiographies, since Mary Antin and Rose Cohen were Jewish
women.

2.2. Jewish American Autobiographies

It is the goal of this chapter to situate works like Mary Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s within the
field of Jewish American literature; yet, placing any Jewish autobiographical text is
problematic. Overall, the topic of American Jewish literature triggers a variety of discussion;
the discourse on Jewish American literature might include issues regarding specific terms and
genres and whether they can generally be distinguished from works produced by writers of
other ethnicities. In addition, it is still debatable whether the term Jewish-American is more
fitting than American-Jewish in specific cases (Siegel 17-18). One also finds the portrayal of
the American Jewish immigrant experience in a variety of genres, in particular in the field of
autobiography. This experience marks the autobiographies by Mary Antin and Rose Cohen.
Thus it is important to provide an insight into the specific group of Jewish American immigrant
21
autobiographies, “in which immigrants describe their struggles to adapt to a new way of life in
the United States” (Loock 212). Therefore, this chapter focuses on Jewish American literature
and autobiographies, including female writers that were considered Jewish. Nevertheless, a
brief insight into the general role of autobiographies within Judaism is provided, as many
Jewish American autobiographies are founded upon experiences of migration from the Old
World of Judaism to the United States. Since this also applies to Antin’s and Cohen’s works,
migration as a topic is addressed in the subsequent paragraphs.

First, historical matters with regard to Jewish autobiographies are discussed. While “Jewish
creativity did not begin in America” (Kramer and Wirth-Nesher 2), Adelman argues that there
might not be a lot of early autobiographical material to discuss, since he believes that prior to
modernity, autobiographies had been rarely written by Jews (119). He suggests that “they did
not articulate an acute sense of self” due to being “embedded in religion, community and
family” (Adelman 119). Likewise, Michael Stanislawski picks up an idea from Alan Mintz,
who states that the amount of works that were produced during the Renaissance and can be
assigned to the genre of autobiography, can be perceived as an “utter novelty” (qtd. in
Stanislawski 10). Contrarily, Christian Europe had already developed an autobiographical
mode at this point. While researchers such as Alan Mintz and Jacob J. Schacter have addressed
various reasons for this lack, to some extent they agree on today’s absence of early Jewish
autobiographical works (Adelman 119; Stanislawski 10-11).

The modern period of Jewish literature provides more material open for discussion within this
specific genre. Since Jews are known to have settled in different regions of the world, it seems
interesting to identify the region that supposedly “provided the soil from which an autonomous
modern Jewish autobiographical discourse written in Jewish languages arose” (Moseley 31),
namely Eastern Europe. Jewish writers stemming from this region wrote in Hebrew and Yiddish
and they were not safe from the impact of Rousseau’s theories. This influence is related to the
Hebrew Enlightenment in Eastern Europe, i.e. the Haskalah, and can be perceived in literature
written in Hebrew to a large extent (31). Moseley argues that it can be detected due to “the
radical conjoining of the validation of the individual and an acutely heightened sensitivity to
the wonders of nature” (31). While Eastern European Jews’ autobiographies were crucial to the
development of Jewish autobiography in general, Jewish American autobiography and
literature also owe a lot to the German Jewish immigrants, who influenced the development of
narrative prose greatly (Tiefenthaler 23).

22
After this insight into Jewish autobiographies in general, the focus shall now be put on Jewish
American literature and, in particular, autobiographical texts, with a special consideration of
women’s writings and immigrant autobiography. The oldest writings by Jews in America can
be split into two categories. On the one hand, one finds essays on Hebrew as a language, which
were appreciated by Puritans and hence they were also of importance in early university
curricula. On the other hand, religious writings were produced as well, including sermons.
However, the early period of Jews in America was not marked by extensive participation in the
literary community of the country. Active literary participation of Jews only evolved over the
course of the 19th century and had a lasting impact only after Jews were not considered an utter
minority anymore. This ultimately resulted in the development of Jewish American literature
(Tiefenthaler 8-9).

Although Jews did not influence American literature to a large extent nor create their own
literature in the early 19th century, some writers were already active during this period. Besides
names such as Isaac Franks or Jacob Newton Cardozo, one also detects the name of a Jewish
woman, namely Rebecca Gratz (1781-1869), whose German-Jewish family was part of a
Sephardic community and rather open towards new developments of literature. Gratz wrote
many letters which were published in 1929. These letters are perceived as a valuable source for
early American Jewry (Tiefenthaler 8-9). In addition, one has to admit that by the time her
letters became published in the late 1920s, Jewish American literature had already existed and
brought forth a great number of authors including Jewish American women autobiographers
such as Mary Antin and Rose Cohen, as well as Anzia Yezierska and Elizabeth Gertrude Stern.

Nevertheless, Jewish women’s autobiographical writings are perceived as a rather problematic

topic (Adelman 120). As Adelman explains, “[h]istorically, the opportunities of Jewish women
for the expression and transformation of self were fewer than […] those of Jewish men”
(Adelman 120). His observation points to a lack of autobiographical material produced by
Jewish women, which constitutes the main issue of this specific branch of literature. This also
leads back to the perception that education does obviously play a role in the tradition of both
men’s and, in particular, women’s autobiography (Jelinek 5-6); this appears to be even more
evident in America, since education for Jewish women was normalized there (Glenn 87). This
facilitated the production of women’s writings, which, interestingly, have often been discussed
separately depending on the author’s classification either as “immigrant” or “acculturated”
(Batker 108).

23
While Jews of German descent, such as the family of Rebecca Gratz did play a role in the
Jewish literary development (Tiefenthaler 8-9), the literature of Eastern European immigrants
who arrived during the great wave was particularly important for the development of Jewish
immigrant literature. As Priscilla Wald states, “[t]he literature of East European Jewish
immigrants from this period registers both the uncertainties of the dominant culture and their
own ambivalent responses to assimilation” (51). The specific treatment of these aspects in their
writings seems to be a result of these immigrants being part of mass migration while earlier
Jewish migrants were considered a meaningless minority. Their small number also hindered
earlier Jewish immigrants to start creating their own literary canon, while simultaneously a
small group could blend in and assimilate faster.

As aforementioned, it is not a surprise that immigration influences literature. Maierhofer argues

that it is not at all a rare case that migrants will try to find their self, their identity after
experiencing a loss thereof through the work on and composition of their life story (55).
Migration often entails the experience of a “transcultural dilemma, the conflict of two cultures,
and the ensuing, often painful, search for cultural identity: the struggle to accommodate two
selves and two cultural spaces into one integral identity” (Tiefenthaler 66), which Siegel
describes as well (31). Usually, migrants go through phases of “assimilation and acculturation
to the dominant mainstream culture of the receiving country” (Tiefenthaler 66), which often
suffices as a way of dealing with the experience as it evolves gradually. However, authors such
as Rose Cohen and Mary Antin also expressed themselves verbally; thus, they influenced
Jewish American autobiography in so far as they expressed the struggle experienced by many,
that is the “immigrants’ quest for cultural and personal identity under conditions of cultural and
geographical displacement, oppression, marginality, and alienation” (Tiefenthaler 66). Due to
the special relationship between immigrants and autobiographies, it is not surprising that
“[a]utobiography is a widespread and characteristic form of American expression” (Wirth-
Nesher, “Introduction: Jewish American Autobiography” 113), since the United States are
generally perceived as a “nation of immigrants” (Grunwald 17).

Among these autobiographies “Antin’s The Promised Land (1912) can be seen as a prime
example of smooth, one-way assimilation” (Tiefenthaler 66). However, not all immigrants, who
write about their migration experience as a success story, for some, like Ludwig Lewisohn,
realize that their “assimilation […] proved to be a delusion and at least a prtial failure due to
“racial” prejudice and chauvinistic nativism” (Tiefenthaler 67). Ludwig Lewisohn notices that
he does not fully become assimilated, nor is he excluded from American culture. While he

24
manages to assimilate on the surface, he does not achieve it fully and notices that
Americanization is problematic, as “the original ideals on which the creation of the United
States was based have been betrayed and are kept alive only in the unassimilated, not yet
Americanized immigrants” (Tiefenthaler 68). Conclusively, he did not praise assimilation and
acculturation as much as others, since he perceived some danger in this transformation, which
he sought to demonstrate to his readers (68).

Similarly to writers such as Antin or Cohen, Lewisohn emigrated as a child during the time of
mass migration in 1890. However, his parents were not strong believers in the Jewish faith;
neither did they want to limit their company to other German immigrants. Lewisohn’s German-
Jewish background, his family’s limited Jewishness and the fact that he immigrated to South
Carolina rather than the Lower East Side of New York, distinguished him from other Jewish
American writers from this period (Tiefenthaler 67-68). Thus, his experience of migration and
assimilation differed to a large extent from the general experience in the ghetto, where masses
of migrants lived in a crammed space. In addition, Lewisohn’s circumstances differed from the
“religious, geographical, social, and economic background” (70) of writers such as Anzia
Yezierska who, like many others, experienced life in this New York ghetto. She wrote both
fictional and autobiographical works surrounding the themes that life on the Lower East Side
provided, i.e. “the conflict of the poor Jewish immigrant woman between Old World ideals […]
and her own overwrought expectations of a new, autonomous life” (70), as well as “the conflict
between the female protagonist’s idealizing and utopian New World vision and American
reality” (70). Undeniably, Lewisohn, Yezierska and Cahan produced immigrant works,
including autobiographical texts. Yet, due to their backgrounds and experiences, these differ,
which resembles the differences in their lives. This proves that even though these authors share
the categories Jewish and immigrant to America and wrote works that belong to the same genre,
Jewish American autobiography is as diverse as any other genre. Conclusively, Richard Tuerk
renders it impossible “to formulate hard and fast rules concerning the form or content of
European-American immigrant autobiographies” (114).

Yet, there are certain features that almost all immigrant autobiographies share, including the
“portrayal of the Old World, anticipation of the New World, experience of New World reality,
and re-evaluation of the Old World” (Tiefenthaler 74). This does not only apply to Jews who
arrived in America during a time of mass migration, but it is also true for authors such as Isaac
Bashevis Singer who not only came to America at a later stage in the 1930s, but arrived there
at the age of 31 and not during childhood. Despite these different circumstances, his book Lost

25
in America still “contains all the familiar narrative strategies and themes of the immigrant
autobiography” (74). In contrast to some others he tried not to assimilate; he wrote in Yiddish
and focused on the Old World in his writings (74). While many works seem to share a variety
of features and themes, the personal experience and result of the migration remains diverse, as
some authors embrace assimilation and Americanization, while others try their very best to
elude it. All of these factors also coalesce with the conscious decision regarding how one wants
to portray this personal experience in order to achieve a certain goal.

Tuerk describes some patterns which seem to apply to a variety of immigrant autobiographies.
They also coincide with some of Tiefenthaler’s suggestions (74), as likewise, Tuerk mentions
the usual depiction of how life in America relates to life in Europe. This further leads to aspects
such as acculturation and assimilation, which, as already explained above, can be perceived
differently due to one’s attitude and circumstances. While different attitudes exist, “most
European-American immigrant autobiographers do not reject assimilation. Instead, they narrate
the process by which their assimilation occurs” (Tuerk 114), which is examined in this thesis.
It becomes evident that certain patterns are repeated throughout this specific branch of
autobiographies; nonetheless, this shall not lead to a generalization of such works, for they still
offer a variety of life stories.

With regard to certain patterns within immigrant autobiographies, Tiefenthaler states that
Lewisohn, Antin and Singer all “tried to achieve a cultural identity on their own either by
renegotiating their initial assimilatory attempts, or by an act of rejection and resistance to such
smooth assimilation” (76). While all classify as Jewish, the immigration experience seems to
function as the focus of their works; thus, the “themes and strategies” (Tiefenthaler 76) they
address in their autobiographical works are not limited to Jewish immigrants, as they also apply
to autobiographies that were written by immigrants from different ethnical backgrounds.
However, it is important to note here that despite the similarities shared with other groups,
Jewish immigrant autobiographies also refer to exclusively Jewish features, such as the
influence of “specific aspects of Jewish culture which they discovered, re-discovered or
retained” (76). Conclusively, it can be said that autobiographers who share one category they
are assigned to often share similarities; yet, these autobiographers often belong to a variety of
groups that do not overlap. In addition to having grown up under different circumstances, these
divergent groups influence one’s autobiographical texts to an extent that cannot be ignored.
Despite the similarities that can be detected in numerous Jewish American autobiographies,

26
differences can always be found as well, which adds to the diversity within this subgenre of
autobiography.

Moreover, Jewry in itself is extremely diverse, as Jews have lived in various countries for
centuries and have thus created their own ideas of Jewry, which they have also brought to
America. The simplest distinction describes the one between Sephardim and Ashkenazi Jews.
While early Jewish immigrants were primarily Sephardim, Ashkenazi Jews followed soon
enough and had a larger impact on the development of Jewish American literature (Tiefenthaler
8-11). With regard to the development of Jewish American autobiography, Wald notes that
“East European Jewish immigrants seemed particularly eager to share their experiences with
each other and with the American public more broadly” (55). Interestingly, this ties in with the
general influence that Eastern European Jews had on the development of Jewish autobiography
as mentioned above (Moseley 31).

In addition to the fact that Eastern European Jewry has a tradition of autobiography, Eastern
European immigrants to America also experienced the American take on self life writing. As
Hana Wirth-Nesher argues, “[a]utobiography is a widespread and characteristic form of
American expression. It first appears in exploration narratives and traveler’s tales and
subsequently takes on varied forms” (“Introduction: Jewish American Autobiography” 113),
including immigrant autobiographies. Thus, Eastern European Jews who also later identified as
American seem to have been more prone to writing autobiographies than groups of migrants
with a different background and migration destination. Eastern European Jewish immigrants
produced “essays, tracts and short stories, novels, plays, poetry, and autobiographies” (Wald
55). Many of these autobiographies classify as immigrant autobiographies and can be perceived
as “significant documents in the repertoire of American accounts of the self in which the authors
designate themselves as the voice of their communities” (Wirth-Nesher, “Introduction: Jewish
American Autobiography” 114), which are, in the particular case of Antin and Cohen, the
communities of Jewish immigrant women.

In general, with regard to Jewish American autobiographers, “typicality is the ever-present

tension between Adamic self-invention and Jewish origins and destiny. The Jewish-American
is moving both toward and away simultaneously” (Wirth-Nesher, “Introduction: Jewish
American Autobiography” 114). This statement relates to the dualistic experience that Jews
share due to the influence of American legacy on the one hand, and “Jewish literary precursors
or the attitude toward self-representation in Jewish culture” (114) on the other. In addition to
this dichotomy, one also finds “ambivalence in the immigrants’ work” (Wald 54), which stems
27
from an issue that deals with “the uncertainty of exactly what ‘American’ means and exactly
what is supposed to happen in the process of Americanization” (54). However, the act of writing
an autobiography can serve as a platform to discuss and deal with these matters and these issues
might in return influence Jewish American autobiography.

As can be deduced from the preceding pages of this chapter, autobiography as a genre is as rich
in variety and as complex as many other genres. Thus, it may not be defined easily; yet, this
diversity also contributes to the richness of this genre, which makes it even more enticing.
While categorizations can facilitate outlining the genre, it is also important to note that even
within these subcategories, a great variety of works can be found as in any other genre. In order
to situate specific subcategories, one should not ignore the bigger picture of Jewish American
literature, for example, as certain subcategories of autobiographies might play a different role
within the context of numerous literatures. Undeniably, Mary Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s works
can be referred to as Jewish American women’s immigrant autobiographies. They can be read
and analyzed in similar contexts and yet, as the analytical part of this thesis will show, they
differ due to the personal influence each autobiographer has on his or her works.

2.3. Jewish Migration to America

The following chapter focuses on Jewish migration to America. In order to provide an overview
of this topic, a brief history of the Jewish immigration to America is provided. Due to the fact
that both Mary Antin and Rose Cohen emigrated from Eastern Europe during a period of mass
migration, this period from 1880 until World War I is treated with particular importance.
Discussing these issues with regard to migration does not suffice, as one also has to consider
the background of these movements; thus, the motivation that drove Jews out of their countries
and attracted them to unknown lands is addressed as well. This shall help situate both
autobiographies, for this information seeks to contribute to the understanding of the
circumstances which brought both authors to America.

2.3.1. Historical Background

In his book Golden Door to America. The Jewish Immigrant Experience, Abraham J. Karp
states that the experience of Jewish migration to America “begins with the movement of Jews
from the Old World to the New” (ix), which can be traced back to the centuries before the mass
migration which occurred around 1900. Jewish migration in general, which did not always lead
to the United States of America, can be categorized in three time periods, as suggested by
Brinkmann in his overview of Jewish Migration (2010). He divides Jewish migrations from the

28
mid-fifteenth century until the mid-twentieth century into a first period from 1492 until 1789
which marks the “expulsion from Spain and the rise of the Eastern European Diaspora,” a
second period until 1914 which includes “Mass migration from Eastern Europe and
‘Metropolisation’,” and a period from 1914 until 1948 which is defined by the issues of
“Expulsion, Shoah and the foundation of Israel” (online). The second of these periods is
discussed in detail at a later point.

First, an insight into the beginnings of Jewish migration to the Americas is provided. On this
account, it is important to note that transatlantic Jewish migration does not mark the beginning
of Jewish migration in general. As Lloyd P. Gartner has argued, “Jewish migration within
Europe is as old as the Diaspora” (1). On the one hand, this statement implies that general
Jewish migration precedes transatlantic Jewish migration by centuries. Hasia R. Diner even
argues that “[t]he great Jewish migration constituted a mass human movement which might be
seen as merely an extension of a process by which Jews in the seventeenth century began to
move en masse from east to west” and she observes that “[t]his reversed a long, drawn-out
process that began in the eleventh century of moving from west to east, and also north to south”
(14). As Jews moved to different places, many migrating groups mingled with the Jews based
in a certain region; hence creating many subgroups of Jewry (Diner 14). Due to this migration-
related diversity, it can be concluded that speaking of the Jews or Jewry in the broadest sense
can be dangerous, as the different groups of Jews, whether they were Sephardim or Ashkenazi,
also contributed to life in America in various ways.

As pointed out by Karp, the early Jews in America were in fact mainly Sephardim; yet “the real
story of the Jewish immigrant takes shape only after the more substantial flow of arrivals from
Germany and western Europe during the nineteenth century” (ix). Thus, the amount of the Jews
who arrived later also facilitated the formation of the imagery of American Jewry. However,
the earliest group of Jews to found a Jewish community arrived as early as the 1650s in today’s
territory of the United States of America (Karp ix); it was mainly composed of Sephardim, but
Karp claims that Ashkenazi Jews were part of the group too (2).2 The year 1654 has generally
been identified as the start of Jewish settlement in the United States, even if individual Jews
can already be found in the United States about three decades prior to the foundation of this
Jewish community in 1654 (Tiefenthaler 1). The first actual community’s movement to North
America was not a transatlantic journey, as they emigrated from Recife in Brazil, where they

2
It has to be noted here that Tiefenthaler, for example, does not mention Ashkenazi Jews with regard to the first
group of migrants. He states that “Jewish immigrants of Sephardic origin were soon succeeded by Ashkenazi Jews
who already made up the majority of Jews in New York by 1729 […]” (Go West, Moses 1).
29
had resided in lands reigned by the Dutch prior to the reclaiming of the land by the Portuguese
(Karp ix; 1). Unlike Jewish migrants, who arrived later and predominantly stayed in the United
States (Gartner 8), many Sephardic Jews decided to return to Amsterdam. Some, among which
one finds the aforementioned early Jewish community, decided to stay in the New World (Karp
1).

With regard to Jewish migration to America, one also has to note that the beginnings of Jewish
groups there were not always easy, since early Jewish communities had to fight in order to be
guaranteed certain rights and to be able to exercise their faith (Tiefenthaler 1). For example, the
aforementioned community which made it to New Amsterdam from Brazil could only stay there
since the Jews of Amsterdam “supported the refugees’ right to remain, and won the cause for
the twenty-three” (Karp 2). Later, the American constitution solved problems, which facilitated
the subsequent arrival and life of Jews in America (Tiefenthaler 1). Due to this “constitutional
protection” (Zola and Dollinger 129), Jews that were to arrive and live in America at a later
point “interacted with local, state, and even federal governments, enjoying full citizenship rights
[…] [and] free religious expression” (129). This contributed to the attractiveness of America as
a destination for migrants in general and in particular for Jewish migrants of the great migration.

2.3.2. Push and Pull Factors

Besides these tales and the promises of the Constitution which made the United States more
attractive as a country, push factors that promoted the decision to emigrate from Eastern Europe
during the great wave can be found. For example, the European population was almost
exploding; thus more space was needed with time (Karp 1). While Gartner argues that we “have
no persuasive explanation” for this “population explosion,” he also points out “that there were
no major wars in the 19th century and major epidemics dwindled as did famines” (23). It is not
surprising that, as other ethnic groups, the Jewish community was growing; Jewry was even
growing more than other ethnicities, maybe partly due to the strong rejection of infanticide.
While life expectancy was not high, many children were born; this lead to a Jewish population
in which half of the people had not yet reached their twenties (23). Overall, Roger Daniels
speaks of an increase of Eastern European Jewry “from perhaps 1.5 million to nearly 7 million,
a rate of increase roughly twice of the population generally” (223). In addition to the rapid
increase of the population, economy was not strong enough and Jews were rarely allowed to
participate in trades that were more fruitful. The few options Jews did have to improve their
economic status resulted in a shift from the countryside towards cities such as Odessa, which
was one of the places that Jews would go to (Gartner 23).
30
Economy functioned both as a push and pull factor; “there had to be large scale economic
development” (Gartner 23) in the countries Jews went to, since they were usually coming from
regions where economy was not flourishing (23). While economy as a factor contributed greatly
to Jewish migration, Karp names “[p]hysical persecution [and] political oppression” along with
“restrictive laws aimed at eliminating Jews from economic and civil life” (7) as factors which
contributed to the increased flow of migration. However, the common belief “that Jews
emigrated because of persecution and pogroms” (Gartner 21) is described as a myth. Of course,
one cannot deny the treatment that Jews faced in a variety of countries and regions, especially
in Russia after the assassination of Alexander II in 1881, the year that also marks the beginnings
of mass migration (Karp 7). Nevertheless, one needs to treat this issue carefully, for a variety
of other reasons contributed significantly to the decision of the migrants.

Undeniably, the political situation was precarious. The tsar’s assassination triggered many
pogroms. Yet, even earlier in this century, “[y]oung boys were forced into long-term military
service; Jews were expelled from many communities and restricted to the western provinces; a
whole series of laws, decrees, and enactments regulated Jewish communal, cultural and
religious life” (Karp 7). Nonetheless, “every new decree from 1881 made things worse for them,
not better” (Gartner 21). Jews had to face a large number of pogroms and did not receive any
help from the police while being “beat[en], pillage[d], rob[bed], rape[d]” (21). After the years
of 1881-1884, more orders against the Russian Jewry were carried out (21). For example, 1890
marked the year in which Jews who lived in Moscow had to leave in the midst of winter;
similarly, many other Jews had to flee from their villages. A number of pogroms followed as
well, including the one in Kishinev in 1903, which resulted in the death of almost 50 Jews and
considerably more injured people. Jews also started to fight back, establishing a force entitled
haganah, which turned the following pogroms into “pitched battles” (Gartner 21-22). These
pogroms lasted until 1907. While these pogroms did not constitute the sole reason for migration,
among various other factors, they also influenced the emigration of 672 000 Jews in the four
years from 1904 until 1908 (22).

As pointed out by Karp, these pogroms “were justified in Russian government circles as
resulting from the Russian populace’s reaction to Jewish economic oppression” (8). He further
describes the aforementioned orders which worsened the life of Russian Jewry after Alexander
II’s assassination as

[t]he ‘Temporary Laws’ of May 31, 1881 (known as the ‘May Laws’) [which] forbade
Jews to settle in villages; gave villages the right to drive out Jews already living in them;
31
 expelled many Jews from such cities as St. Petersburg, Moscow, Kiev; limited the number
of Jews in secondary schools and universities; prohibited Jews from entering the legal
profession and participating in local government. (Karp 8)

Thus, similarly to Gartner, Karp also points out that the situation for Jews in Russia seemed
dangerous and was not likely to improve. The logical implication is the movement towards the
west, particularly the United States and other countries, which seemed to provide “a liberal and
constitutional, often democratic, regime” (Karp 2).

While the West thought of the pogroms as the primary cause for Jewish migration, Gartner
states that this theory has flaws (3; 22). For example, Galicia’s Jews did not fall victim to many
pogroms, but they were lacking food and emigrated in proportionally larger numbers than
Russian Jews, who had to experience more attacks (3; 22). Lithuania works as a similar case;
Jews from Lithuania emigrated in considerable numbers, even though it was rather safe in
relation to Ukraine for example, which had low emigration rates prior to World War I, but was
struck by numerous pogroms (22). Similarly, Kleinmann argues that “[i]n general […], the
long-asserted connection between anti-Jewish violence and emigration can be clearly refuted
in the case of migration within the Russian Empire as well as emigration overseas” (542). She
bases this argument on the following observation: “the exodus from the northwest of the Pale
of Settlement into the south continued after the Odessa pogrom in 1871 and even increased after
the Ukrainian pogroms in 1881-2” (542). Indeed, these comparisons and observations support
Gartner’s idea that one cannot “us[e] persecution as the prime explanation of Jewish migration”
(22). Instead, he proposes reasons that relate to starvation, which also relates to the explosion
of the European population on the one hand, and the slow economy on the other (22-23). Yet
one cannot deny that safety played a role as well. Ultimately, Russian politicians even sought
to get rid of Jews. One of the leading politicians, Constantine Probedonostsev proposed a so-
called “formula” to deal with this “issue.” This formula was tripartite and included death,
conversion and emigration (Karp 8). It is hardly surprising that emigration seemed most
attractive to Jews.

In order to make emigration possible, a variety of aspects need to cooperate. First, one should
note that it was from 1882 in particular that emigration from Russia was facilitated, as “the
Russian government allowed almost unhindered departure by millions who quietly crossed the
borders” (Gartner 23). However, there was no permission; migration happened unofficially. In
the succeeding years, passports were usually needed to leave Russia, which made crossing the
border from Russia into other countries, often Germany, more difficult. The journey of getting
32
a passport took more time than the actual journey to the New World. People had to wait for
months and pay a lot of money; in addition, young men who were supposed to go to the army
could not receive a passport at all if they refused to enter. Consequently, many traveled without
passports and received help from so-called border-runners. Interestingly, the German
government did not care too much about those traveling without legal documents, but paid more
attention to passport holders (Gartner 4). By leaving one’s home country successfully, the first
step towards the New World was taken.

However, traveling to these ports such as Hamburg or Bremen in Germany was not a pleasant
experience. Vast distances had to be covered, and while traveling was getting easier due to
technological advancements, migrants often faced legal issues as mentioned above. Emigrating
via Germany was easier than other options such as the port of Odessa. Ukrainian Jews could
have gone from there easily, yet they often refrained to do so for various reasons: first of all,
traveling from the Black Sea would have meant spending even more time on a crowded ship.
As a result, the ticket for this itinerary would have also cost more than traveling from the North
German ports. Secondly, Russians were stricter with regard to passport control upon
embarkation and, as already discussed, many emigrants did not have a passport. As a result,
illegal emigration was predominant (Daniels 224). Despite it being illegal, this type of
migration worked for thousands of Jews and they could often cross borders without any
noteworthy disturbances.

The successful crossing of the borders already ties in with the “the ready availability of safe,
scheduled mass transportation on land and sea” (Gartner 4). What made this transportation
possible were the “[g]lobalising markets and technical innovations” (Brinkmann online), which
facilitated the transportation of an increasing amount of people to more distant countries within
shorter timeframes (Brinkmann online). In addition, these improvements contributed to the
decreased dangers of such a journey (Karp 15). For those traveling through Germany, and many
sailed from this country, “a complete system was evolved […] which removed most of the
uncertainty that characterized earlier emigrant travel” (Gartner 4). Migration in Germany was
heavily controlled, yet desirable; migrants were rarely deceived and could sail to America on
ships which were leaving the harbors at a frequent rate (4). In short, Germany made sure of the
migrants’ arrival at the harbors, often using “sealed trains” (Daniels 224). One of the important
figures responsible for such relatively smooth processes of migration to America was a German
Jew and close friend of Kaiser Wilhelm II, namely Albert Ballin (1857-1918) (Gartner 4). The
mass migration of Jews improved his business, as Ballin’s line from Hamburg to America

33
brought in “an annual profit of ten million marks on the emigrant trade by the 1890s, and much
of that trade was Eastern European Jews” (Daniels 224). Seen from both an economic and
political point of view, it is not too surprising then that Germans tried to organize smooth
transitions for Eastern European migrants.

Technical advancements meant that almost exclusively, steamships were used starting in the
1880s to travel from Europe to America and vice-versa. Besides the frequent sailings of the
ships, steamships were also faster, taking approximately ten days. Traveling on these ships was
certainly not like a cruise, but in comparison to earlier means of travel it was easier and less
eventful. Additionally, diseases decreased due to the examination that travelers faced upon
boarding. A particular comfort was provided to Jews on main lines where kosher food was
offered (Gartner 4). Although the ships did not offer a lot of space, and traveling was hazardous
compared to contemporary standards, it had improved since the previous decades and had also
become less dangerous (5). All of the technical and organizational developments facilitated the
process of mass migration at the end of the nineteenth century, thus allowing millions of people
to immigrate to countries such as the United States.

These receiving countries played an important role. Neither the political willingness to let
people emigrate from their home countries, nor the technical and organizational advancements
would have sufficed without a place to go for the migrants and among other places “America
was ready to receive them” (Karp 9). As pointed out by Gartner, the time of the mass migration
was a period when “[m]ajor countries, above all the United States of America, allowed almost
unhindered entrance” (23-24). Thus, one found “the nearly untrammeled right to leave one
country and enter another” (4) cooperating with organized transportation. This rare cooperation
facilitated migration during the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth century,
which resulted in a mass movement, as “poverty and oppression [alone] could not bring about
emigration unless there was somewhere to go and a way to get there” (23). Each of the
aforementioned aspects contributed considerably to the creation of the opportunity for many
migrants to leave their home countries.

The United States as a country also made contributions to this opportunity. Yet, Jews were not
always welcome there. The early American Jews had to fight for their rights in the parts of the
New World that were reigned by the Dutch, since prejudices against certain ethnic groups,
which existed in the Old World, were carried to the New more often than tolerance (Karp 3).
Once the British ruled, more rights were earned and “[c]ertain factors and forces unique to the
New World […] did operate to mitigate anti-Jewish sentiments and lay the foundation first for
34
the tolerance, later for the freedom granted to Jews as to all other new Americans” (3). This
sense of freedom, both religious and personal liberty, was mainly what Jews were looking for
in their new home country. As Karp claims “[t]hey sought little more than the right to life—
personal security and economic opportunity” (16). Similarly, Antin addressed this issue in her
autobiographical work From Plotzk to Boston, stating that “they were going to the foreign world
in hopes of only earning their bread and worshiping their God in peace” (11).3 What they
sought, America could seemingly offer them, as full civil rights were bestowed upon Jewish
men due to the Constitution’s taking effect in 1790 (Brinkmann online); hence the United States
became the prime destination for migrants.

As discussed above, economy certainly functioned as one of the pull factors, as Jews “moved
mostly from rural areas […] to regions shaped by the commercial and industrial revolutions,
beginning at the end of the eighteenth century as they sought out environments throbbing with
new opportunities” (Diner 13). In the specific case of America, the country’s economy had
managed to come out of a depression in the 1870s, i.e. just in time for the masses of Eastern
Europe to arrive, resulting in a geographic and economic expansion; this growth seemed
attractive to Jewish migrants (Karp 9). Zola and Dollinger even argue that “for the vast majority
of Jewish immigrants, the economic opportunities of an expanding American industrial
economy trumped ideological calls for the creation of a Jewish homeland” (129). Instead of
supporting Jewish nationalism and the foundation of a Jewish state in Palestine, many Jews
remained loyal to America, despite the existence of a movement of Zionism in the United
States. This movement resulted in a division of American Jewry. On the one hand, one found
supporters of Jewish nationalism; on the other hand, one encountered Jews opposing the idea
of a sovereign Jewish state (129-130). Even though Jews enjoyed many rights and opportunities
in America, it has to be noted that they were also discriminated against and excluded on several
levels, including economy and society; anti-Semitism found its way to the United States as well,
albeit usually in a extenuated form (Karp 15-16).

Despite the problems Jewish immigrants faced in America, whether this relates to repeated
phases of economic depression and the rough working conditions, America was still perceived
as the golden land and as a land of promise by most people living in and coming from Europe
(Gartner 6). Thus “it assumes certain mythic burdens” (Malin 15), to which it can often not do
justice. After all, Malin states that America can be described as “human” (15) and concludes

3
Unless explicitly referring to other works by Mary Antin, such as in this case, the use of Mary Antin’s name in
the form of in-text citation hence refers to her autobiography The Promised Land.
35
that “[i]f transcendent America […] [is] placed concretely, [it] disillusion[s] believers” (15).
When imagining countries, one often finds a gap, maybe even a dichotomy, once one
experiences the country first-hand. Imagination and reality do often not add up. However,
Eastern European Jewish migrants were either not aware of this or did not want it to be true.
Many neglected the voices of community leaders of Western Jewish regions, who advised them
not to come, due to the lack of employment and the prevalent presence of poverty. America
might have been comparably safe at the turn of the nineteenth to the twentieth century, but
many, in particular newly arrived immigrants, lived in poverty and faced hostile attitudes. Prior
to the worst series of pogroms in 1905 and 1906, many were already warned by these
community leaders or relatives who had already tried their luck in America; yet, three million
decided to leave their home lands to seek a better life in America (Gartner 25-26). Regardless
of almost guaranteed safety, this life proved to be difficult in numerous cases, as predicted by
the community leaders and the ones who had already traveled to America.

2.3.3. The Period of Mass Migration 1880-1914

Having summarized the circumstances of migration with a focus on the great wave that occurred
approximately from 1880 until the First World War, the following paragraphs discuss the
impact of these circumstances, i.e. how many people were actually involved and how the
migration from Eastern Europe influenced American demography and the lives of millions shall
be addressed.

Prior to the mass movement, the 1870s functioned as the precursor of the great wave of
migration; 40,000 Jews from Eastern Europe emigrated from their homelands to America. As
explained above, the events of the next decade did not improve the lives of Jews who lived in
the Russian empire; thus “[t]he mass migration begun in the 1880s [and] was brought to an end
for Russian Jews [only] by the Revolution of 1917, and for Polish Jews by the restrictive
American immigration law of 1924” (Karp 8). The 1880s mark the beginning of these “tidal
waves from eastern Europe” (65), which lasted several decades. The 1880s saw 200,000 Jews
migrating from their countries of origin in Eastern Europe. Besides the masses that were from
the Russian Empire, including Polish lands, Jews from Romania, Galicia and Hungary
emigrated as well (Karp 8-9).

However, Jews were not the only groups who tried to migrate in the 19th century. Prior to the
mass migration from Eastern Europe, many English, Irish and German migrants came to the
United States; this flow of migration then shifted towards Southern and Eastern Europe,
including nationalities such as Greeks, Italians and Slovaks in addition to Jews (Gartner 7). In
36
the first decade of Eastern European Jewish mass migration, other non-European groups, such
as the Chinese, already faced restrictions. As Brinkmann argues, “[a]lready in the 1880s, the
United States de facto excluded the Chinese from immigration and began to expel undesirable
immigrants” (online). While Jews were allowed to enter many countries, they faced anti-
Semitism in countries such as France, Germany and also in the United States. Hundreds of
thousands of Jews were allowed to travel through Germany; yet they were not welcome there.
Parallel to the global mass migration, “Germany deported thousands of undesirable Ostjuden
(Eastern Jews) to Russia” (Brinkmann online). The time of mass migration brought
opportunities to many Jews, but other groups such as the Chinese were not as lucky and some
countries were not eager to receive immigrants.

In the case of the United States, Jews constituted almost a tenth of the immigrants arriving
between 1881 and 1914. Similarly to many other migrants, Jews sought economic
opportunities; in contrast to others, they rarely returned home after making money. Once
statistics included returnees in their calculations, the percentage of Jews even rose to 12.6 of
the immigrant population due to their decision to stay in America (Gartner 8). Besides the lack
of viable options, one aspect that influenced this decision concerns family. Karp states that
“Jews arrived in family units, and came to stay. If a man emigrated alone, for the most part he
sought the first opportunity to bring over his sweetheart, or wife and children” (66). About 25
percent of newly-arrived Jews were children below the age of 15, and women made up about
44 percent of the Jewish population. These numbers were comparatively high among Eastern
European Jewish immigrants and distinguished them from other immigrant groups (Gartner 8).
Due to a lack of money “[t]he husband and father usually went first, and saved money to send
for his wife and children” (8); at times, older children of a family might come to America first
instead of the father, or in addition to the father to help provide for the tickets of the rest of the
family (Gartner 8). This balance and the importance of family certainly contributed to the
decision to settle permanently in the United States.

When one speaks of the mass movement that these Jews were part of, one indirectly discusses
the lives of about two and a half million Jews who moved from one country to another during
the period from 1881 until 1914, which have been described as the “peak years” (Gartner 1).
Almost two million Jews emigrated from Europe (Wirth-Nesher, The Cambridge History 9-
10). More than thirty million other Europeans who were migrating as well; however, not all of
them were moving outside of Europe. The Jews who traveled to the United States to start a life
there found themselves among 23 million people, who often emigrated for similar, yet often

37
also for different reasons (Gartner 1); these Jews were to join the approximately 250,000 Jews
that had already lived in the United States by 1880. Less than a fifth of these quarter of a million
Jews were from Eastern European countries; this changed considerable during the Great
Migration (Daniels 223). Daniels estimates that “[w]hen, in 1924, Congress cut immigration
from Eastern Europe down to almost nothing, there were perhaps four million Jews in the
United States, more than three million of them Eastern Europeans and their children and
grandchildren” (223). The Jews who migrated during the mass migration changed the picture
of American Jewry, as after this period, the majority of Jews living in the United States were
originally from Eastern Europe. With regard to Jews and the numbers in which they migrated
in general, Diner states that “[o]f the world’s approximately ten million Jews in the period from
the end of the eighteenth into the early twentieth century, nearly five million left their homes,
the communities of their birth and went out into the world” (13); many of them did not migrate
overseas. Overall, these numbers demonstrate the magnitude of this period of migration.

While the years from 1881-1914 might mark a period of increased, mass migration, of tidal
waves and global movement, it is important to note that the 1880s did not mark a fresh start “or
a change of direction in Jewish migration, but the beginning of an intensification of trends”
(Gartner 2). Nonetheless, this intensification and the vast increase in migrants still distinguish
this time from other eras of migration. It is important to address the circumstances of the
autobiographers’ migration, as provided here, since these circumstances, e.g. the number of
migrants and the lack of opportunities in the Old World, also contributed to the experience of
immigrant writers in the United States. The factors that played a particularly important role
with regard to these women’s Americanization shall be explored in the subsequent chapter.

38
3. Choosing and Analyzing Out of the Shadow and The Promised Land

Overall, “[d]uring the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the arrival of two million
Eastern European Jews brought to the forefront of American Jewish history the themes of
immigration and Americanization” (Zola and Dollinger 129). These themes shall be explored
by means of Mary Antin’s The Promised Land (1912) and Rose Cohen’s Out of the Shadow
(1918). Both works can be classified as immigrant autobiographies and discuss a variety of
aspects which played a role during the process of Americanization of many Eastern European
Jewish immigrants. Despite discussing Antin’s and Cohen’s accounts in order to get an insight
into the life of Eastern European Jewish immigrants to the United States, one should also be
aware of the personal influence of both authors on their respective works. Nonetheless, it shall
be depicted that both accounts offer a good overview of many challenges and aspects that
immigrants encountered during the times of the great migration, including formal education,
organizations, language and tradition.

3.1. Choosing Mary Antin and Rose Cohen

In order to provide an in-depth analysis of the process of becoming American in women’s

autobiographies, I have decided to limit the focus on two works despite the existence of a variety
of autobiographical texts. Numerous reasons have led me to the decision to analyze The
Promised Land and Out of the Shadow. First of all, both Mary Antin and Rose Cohen emigrated
from the former Russian Empire around the same time and at approximately the same age. Both
texts deal with similar aspects; yet, their journeys led them to different cities within the United
States, and their lives took different directions. This resulted in different paths of
Americanization. Moreover, Mary Antin’s work “enjoyed extraordinary success […] [and] was
widely and generally very favorably reviewed” (Chametzky, “Rethinking” 17), thus I wanted
to include her work due to its well-known and even exemplary status.

Antin spent her early years in Boston and not in the dense area of the Lower East Side in
Manhattan, which is particularly famous for being a home to millions of immigrants. It is also
this area that served as inspiration and location for many texts attributed to Jewish immigrant
writers (Tiefenthaler 70; Zacharasiewicz 71-72). Thus I deemed it important to portray the life
there through the eyes of at least one Eastern European Jewish immigrant. Finally, for the
second work to be discussed in my paper, I sought to choose a text that is not as frequently
discussed as the texts written by Mary Antin, Anzia Yezierska and Abraham Cahan, who are
usually referred to at length in articles and books that cover Jewish American immigrant writers,
39
such as the Norton Anthology of Jewish American Literature. In the following paragraphs I
would like to explain these reasons thoroughly.

First, the similarities of Antin’s and Cohen’s origins are presented. As aforementioned, both
authors emigrated from the Russian Empire; they were part of the great migration at the turn of
the centuries. In 1880, Rose Cohen’s was born as Rahel Gollup; her name changed due to
migration and marriage. Her hometown has been located as a small village in today’s Belarus
which used to be part of the Tsarist Empire (Dublin, “Rose” 146). Mary Antin was from
Polotzk, a place which she distinguished from “a strange land called Russia” (Antin 9) as a little
girl, even though it was part of the Russian Empire and is now situated in Belarus. Thus, both
authors came from the same region in the Tsarist Empire. They were born around the same
time, as Antin was born only a year after Cohen, namely in 1881. In addition, Antin’s family
also emigrated in the early 1890s (Zola and Dollinger 135; Antin 98).

Rose Cohen arrived in the United States together with her aunt in 1891, following her father
who had migrated some time before in order to provide his family with tickets (Dublin, “Rose”
146). This was a common phenomenon, as fathers usually migrated first (Daniels 225). This
also proved to be true for Mary Antin, who “vividly described what it was like for her mother,
herself, and her siblings to reunite with their husband and father, already in the United States”
(Zola and Dollinger 135). Bearing these similarities in mind, both authors arrived in America
under similar circumstances and yet, their paths of Americanization differed greatly. Mary
Antin’s path can be perceived as the luckier one, for it was marked by a straightforward
direction towards acculturation or even assimilation due to the opportunities that presented
themselves to her. On the other hand, Rose Cohen’s story is perceived as a more realistic—yet
darker—representation of the experience of becoming American, as her life as an immigrant
was marked by long hours and bad conditions at work, instead of spending her life at school
like Mary Antin (Dittmar 110-112).

These paths also resulted in different outcomes in the lives of both authors. While this cannot
be analyzed due to the fact that both authors wrote their autobiographies about their early years,
it shall be addressed here in order to provide an overview of Mary Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s
lives. After publishing her autobiography, Cohen finished university classes which focused on
creative writing. Cohen thus received a form of late formal education and managed to write
rather popular short stories (Dittmar 112). Dublin remarks that “perhaps the attention
intimidated Cohen as much as it encouraged her” (Introduction xv), which ties in with the fact

40
that 1922 marked the end of her published works. The course of her continued life is marked
by mystery, for one only finds hints which point towards a suicide attempt in 1922 and her
timely death in 1925 (Dublin, Introduction ix, xv). Her early death perhaps also contributed to
the lack of popularity, as she could not publish as many texts as other writers such as Anzia
Yezierska and Mary Antin.

The publication of The Promised Land did not only bring attention towards Mary Antin, it also
“made Mary Antin a celebrity, controversial at times as she went on the lecture circuit form
1913 to 1916 and stumped as an ardent advocate for the immigrant, for Progressive party
politics […], and latterly, for Zionism” (Chametzky, “Rethinking” 17). This provides an insight
into the life of Mary Antin succeeding the end of the stories in her autobiography. By this time,
she was already married and her name had actually already changed from Antin to Grabau. Yet
she was supposed to hide her former immigrant identity due to her husband’s will, for he did
not want her immigrant identity to be associated to his name (Wirth-Nesher, Call It English
72). Despite having become American to a large extent, or perhaps especially since Mary Antin
managed to blend in so well and got married to an American, she was forced to hide her new
name and identity, even though her story is widely perceived as a successful account of
assimilation (Dittmar 110).

Education continued to play an important role in Mary Antin’s life, for she attended classes at
Columbia’s Teachers College and Barnard College, albeit she never graduated. The path of her
continued life also included the birth of a daughter and a journey to her native town Polotzk.
Furthermore, she published numerous short stories, including “The Lie,” a story which also
addresses issues of assimilation, and essays besides being active as a lecturer. Mary Antin led
an active social life; hence finding information about her life is a comparably easy task, when
considering the lack of information regarding Rose Cohen. Yet, Mary Antin’s life was not
always harmonious either, for she lived separately from her husband in later years until her
death in 1949 (Chametzky et al. 190-191). Until this day, Mary Antin and her texts have
remained rather popular; they have been included in a variety of works, which certainly
contributed to her status within Jewish American literature.

The level of popularity also had an impact on my choice of autobiographies. Cohen’s work
“spoke to the broader experience of immigrants on New York’s Lower East Side in the 1890s
and 1900s” (Dublin, Introduction ix), which contributed to her autobiography’s success.
Despite it being reviewed as a “record as may be true of thousands of immigrant girls” (qtd. in

41
Dublin, Introduction ix), which adds to its reliability, Cohen’s work does not depict a “self-
conscious success story tracing the Americanization of an immigrant Jew” (Dublin,
Introduction ix). Compared to Cohen’s account, this is exactly how Mary Antin’s The Promised
Land can be described. Conclusively, Antin’s work also triggered numerous discussions which
probably contributed to her popularity. On this account, Chametzky observes the following:

Despite its largely positive reception, from early on The Promised Land had its critics
from right and left. Some “real Americans” contested Antin’s presumption at claiming so
completely her Americanness; others, Jews mostly, decried her fulsome gratitude toward
the new land, and her apparent willingness to shed her Jewishness. (Chametzky,
“Rethinking” 17)

It can be concluded that Antin’s work served—and perhaps still serves—as the subject of many
discussions. As Wirth-Nesher notes, “Mary Antin has emerged as such a commanding presence
for Jewish-American autobiographers and critics of the genre” (“Introduction: Jewish American
Autobiography” 118). Mary Antin’s reception and popularity contributed to my decision to
discuss Cohen’s autobiography as an example of less famous immigrant autobiographies.

Another aspect that added to my decision is constituted by the numerous factors which
influenced both autobiographers’ development in the United States. Among these one also finds
the surroundings which Antin and Cohen found themselves in. While Mary Antin immigrated
to Boston, Rose Cohen lived on the Lower East Side, which proved to constitute a particularly
fertile ground for Jewish American culture and literature of this time (Sorin 69). Another aspect
that distinguishes Antin from Cohen’s life is that of public education which is closely connected
to economy. Since education in general plays an extremely important role with regard to the
different paths of Americanization that Antin and Cohen experienced, it is discussed in the
following chapter.

Besides these institutional aspects which led to my choice, one also finds two other aspects of
change in both texts, namely language and religious tradition. While education as provided by
organizations and formal schooling served as an active and influencing power, the process of
learning English and the changes with regard to religious rites and customs mark rather personal
experiences. These processes of change, which also include the act of name changing and
altering one’s physical appearance, are also addressed in the subsequent sections of this paper.
As education in various form influenced these process, the institutions which facilitated Mary

42
Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s paths of education are discussed first. Afterwards, attention is drawn
to personal change in the forms of language and religious tradition.

3.2. Formal Education

In general, education was perceived as an important matter among the “people of the book”
(Daniels 229), as learning has always been regarded a “central virtue” (Hödl 202). Even in the
Old World, “learning was the vehicle for social mobility, desirable marriage partners,
community status, influence” (Karp 179). Thus it was regarded positively in the United States,
even though some aspects changed, for the focus moved towards secular education (Lemish
27); the traditional heder was replaced by “public school education; the yeshiva bochur of
Europe became the college student in America” (179). In America, as pointed out by Moore,
“[s]chool was for immigrant Jews, and especially for their children, the preeminent American
institution” (89). This statement summarizes the importance of public education among Jews
in America.

Public education also played a significant role with regard to Americanization, for it was “the
local representative of American society, the repository of its ideal values, and the symbol of
its aspiration” (Moore 89). In particular, the lives of Jewish immigrants were marked by
educational institutions. Jewish parents, who were “the products of Orthodox parochial
education” (Sachar 159) thought highly of education and did not hesitate to send their offspring
to the American schools (159). Overall, as Daniels remarks “[t]he enthusiasm with which most
Jews participated in American education is one of the hallmarks of American Jewish history”
(229). It is not surprising then that education in its various forms, whether as public schools,
organizations, books, or everyday life, is mentioned throughout Mary Antin’s and Rose
Cohen’s work. The first chapter of the analysis focuses on the role of formal public education
in both works. The authors’ experiences with education shall be compared in addition to
highlighting Antin’s and Cohen’s attitude towards education.

3.2.1. Education in the Old World

First, attention shall be drawn to the educational situation in the Old World, as this demonstrates
the importance of the act of migration in many immigrants’ lives. In the Old World, boys were
usually advantaged with regard to their education, for they received lessons on various, albeit
mainly religious, subjects, and the duration of their formal education also outlasted typical
education for girls. After visiting the basic institutions of the heder and the khevre, Jewish boys

43
also had the opportunity of attending a yeshiva, which offers advanced lessons (Sorin 15). While
“study had clear ethical value” (15), girls were rarely encouraged to focus on their education
(Sorin 15-17). The description of Eastern European women as “ignorant” or “illiterate” is,
however, incorrect (Hyman 54); yet it is true that women were often “deemed intellectually
inferior to men” (Baum 6). Thus, one can speak of a “double discrimination [that] they had
faced as Jewish girls in eastern Europe—excluded from traditional forms of Jewish learning as
females and limited in their access to public education as Jews” (Hyman 102). These
circumstances in the Old World certainly contributed to the attitude towards teaching among
Jews in America; in particular, this insight demonstrates why young Jewish girls were often
eager to utilize the educational opportunities in America to their full extent.

Both Antin and Cohen state that they received at least basic education in the Russian Empire,
which provided the base for their later educational success. Thus, these early phases of
education shall be briefly explained here. According to her description, Cohen’s education
started when she was eleven and received basic education provided by “a stranger, who, we
were told, would teach us to read and write” (Cohen 13). Unsurprisingly, since boys usually
received a more extensive education than girls, this teacher was a “young man” (13). Cohen
also remarks that “[a]s soon as I learned how to read I would sit for hours and read to my
grandmother” (13), which suggests an early admiration for words and books. She describes that
“[b]esides the Bible, we had a few religious books” (13) and does not mention any kind of
writing other than religious literature. Thus, Cohen claims that she became “very devout” (13)
as a child; this underlines the important status of religion, which Cohen decides to highlight.

Antin’s early education was instigated by her parents as well, whose “ideals soared beyond all
this” (Antin 57). “This” refers to the “narrowness of educational standards in the Polotzk of my
time” (56), as Antin describes. Additionally to these low standards of “confine[ment] to a
knowledge of the Hebrew language and literature” (56), the little education that was common
was “not equally divided between men and women” (56), as Mary Antin knows, even if perhaps
only in retrospective. It is important to note that Mary Antin draws attention to the
disadvantaged educational situation in Eastern Europe, for it distinguishes the lack of
opportunities in the Old World from her positive portrayal of education in America.

Yet, Mary Antin’s parents appeared to have been rather advanced in comparison to others in
the Old World. As such, Antin’s mother, “although she had not stirred out of Polotzk, readily
adopted the notion of a liberal education imported by my father from cities beyond the Pale”

44
(57); this liberal education did not exclude their daughters. Even in the Old World, Mary Antin
seems to have been privileged regarding her education, in spite of her negative portrayal of the
educational system in Eastern Europe. While Cohen merely refers to her newly gained ability
to read (Cohen 13), Mary Antin and her sister “Fetchke […] were to learn to translate as well
as pronounce Hebrew, the same as our brother” (57). Not only were Antin and her sister
perceived as equal to their brother with regard to their education, their lessons included more
than just Hebrew, as they “were to study Russian and German and arithmetic” (57). This attitude
towards education can be described as exceptional due to the information gathered and
presented in the previous chapter. Antin seems to highlight this positive outlook on education
and equality consciously, for it appears to function as the foundation of educational success and
displays Mary Antin’s parents as modern, open-minded people despite their Eastern European
background. This portrayal also distinguishes her parents from the alleged backwardness
regarding equality and education in Eastern Europe.

Despite the description that Mary Antin and her sister were to “receive a thorough secular
education” (Antin 57), their teacher “was no great scholar” (57); otherwise, she remarks, he
“would not waste [his] learning on mere girls” (57), as this also resulted in less money. This
points to the difference in education of boys and girls in Jewish tradition (Sorin 15-17), which
Antin decides to demonstrate. The early educational experience which Antin describes at this
point depicts her as an eager learner who did not “wait for the next lesson to know how the
story ends” in Hebrew, as she “could read while daylight lasted […] in the Yiddish” (58). She
further characterizes herself as a questioning student, who lacked the “words to describe the
pride” (59) she felt when her sister Fetchke and her “were to study with a Lehrer, a secular
teacher” (59) and not in the traditional heder. She describes the difference as follows: “[t]he
one [heder] taught you Hebrew only, which every girl learned; the other could teach Yiddish
and Russian and, some said, even German; and how to write a letter, and how to do sums
without a counting-frame” (59). One can deduce that Antin seeks to point to the value of early
education, as she describes her pride and the light that was shining in her eyes when she entered
this school, which was “filled with […] a strange glory that penetrated every corner” (59). While
this overly romanticized picture of her early secular education has to be treated with caution, it
is important to note that Mary Antin points to her family’s positive attitude towards education
and her apparent early experience with school.

While the early education Antin and Cohen claim to have received in the Old World did not
necessarily facilitate their process of Americanization, it is still important to note that they
45
consciously explained their types of education in the Old World, hence highlighting the
importance of learning within the context of their religion and perhaps also within the process
of Americanization. This ties in with David Blaustein’s opinion that “[i]t is impossible to
understand the Lower East Side […] or the attitude of the people here toward American
institutions without knowing the conditions form which these people came in Eastern Europe”
(qtd. in Karp 190-192). Antin and Cohen seem to share this opinion, as they elaborate on the
role of education in Eastern Europe. While both autobiographers draw attention to a holistic
positive experience with regard to their education, their accounts differ. Mary Antin’s portrayal
of herself as a student is overly romanticized, whereas Rose Cohen does not glorify her
educational encounters as much. Differences with regard to education shall also mark their
paths of learning, as well as the portrayal of these educational journeys, in America.

3.2.2. The Situation in America – Public Schools

As aforementioned, one of the reasons for Mary Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s diverse experience
was money, or rather the lack thereof. While an increasing number of girls was sent to school
in America, whether one was lucky enough to receive public education depended heavily on
the financial circumstances and how many sons and daughters the family consisted of. Thus,
the daughters were often only allowed to attend school “when they could be spared from
piecework or housework” (Karp 181). Yet, the traditional perception of the importance of
education for men changed in America, as the majority of the newly-arrived Jewish families in
the United States “encouraged education for both sexes” (Glenn 87). If a family could afford
sending most of their children to school, their children would usually be treated equally on
account of their sex (87).

The importance of one’s financial situation with regard to this becomes evident in Mary Antin’s
and Rose Cohen’s autobiographies. While Mary Antin emigrated together with her mother and
siblings, which is addressed in chapter VIII in The Promised Land besides constituting the main
theme for From Plotzk to Boston, Rose Cohen arrived together with her aunt Masha (Cohen
chapters XIV, XV). Since Rose Cohen and her father still had to raise money for the whole
family to come to the United States, she had to work instead of going to school. Upon her
arrival, Cohen does not mention any conversations about school; instead she highlights the
importance of supporting her family financially and states that she was to be taken “to his own
shop” and learn “part of his own trade” (Cohen 69). She portrays herself as a girl who takes it
lightly that she has to earn money and “resolved to work hard” (70) at the outlook of the arrival

46
of her family, after originally being struck by how much her father had already changed
physically.

Cohen continues to ignore school as a subject to a large extent, as she finds herself in a work
environment. Yet on her way home from work, she would often “not remember the work at
home” (Cohen 90) and “start to walk along slowly, linger under the trees, […] and watch the
children on the way home from school to lunch” (90). In her account of this habit, Cohen
describes the pupils in an admiring way with “their white summery dresses and with books
under their arms” (90). She refers to them as “wonderful little beings of a world entirely
different from [hers]” (90). Thus, one can tell that Rose Cohen tries to portray herself as
someone who experiences a longing for education, but who cannot attend school for economic
reasons and the hardships of work. Cohen even admits that she “envied them”, i.e. the pupils,
but found consolation in the prospect that her siblings “too will go to school” (90). Even though
Rose Cohen does not often resume to address the denied opportunity of education, this passage
shows that she wants to be remembered as someone who would have preferred it over the work
she had to do. Yet, she also characterizes herself as a highly responsible girl, who continued to
work in order to support her family. This characterization results in a perception of her character
as unfortunate and highly likeable.

In contrast, Antin remarks that “education was the one thing that he [her father] was able to
promise us when he sent for us; surer, safer than bread or shelter” (89). Prior to her arrival in
the United States, Antin states that she already knew that “[e]ducation was free” (Antin 89) and
that she was going to attend a school in America, since it was “[t]hat subject my father had
written about repeatedly” (89). However, she describes that she only came to the realization
what this meant, once she had arrived in America, as “[a] little girl from across the alley came
and offered to conduct us [them] to school” (89). Her initial excitement and the prospect of
receiving an education in America soon came to a halt. Although Mary Antin seems to have
been sure of not being denied the opportunity of an American school experience which clearly
distinguishes her experience from Rose Cohen’s, “[i]t was a great disappointment to be told by
my father that we [her and her siblings] were not to enter upon our school career at once” (Antin
90), since summer was about to start. Similarly to Cohen, Antin portrays herself positively, as
her eagerness to attend school and start learning can be perceived as a virtue.

In spite of what was perceived by her as a setback at first, Antin soon realized that education
and learning were not necessarily connected to an actual school. In general, life in America

47
itself proved to offer a sufficient amount of material for the immigrant to observe and copy
(Antin 90). Antin draws attention to these opportunities of education consciously, which
supports the depiction of her family as good immigrants. They seem to seize every opportunity
to learn and evolve as their surroundings were “crowded with lessons and experiences” (90).
This kind of informal education is described as particularly relevant for the assimilation that
concerned one’s physical appearance and shall be discussed in one of the succeeding
subchapters that deals with the change of Jewish immigrants’ physical appearance.

Cohen’s contact with the public schooling system is seemingly limited to her post-work
observations (90) and the experience of her siblings. This depicts her experience of becoming
American as disadvantaged. While two of Cohen’s siblings, “Leah and Ezekiel, were going to
school” (Cohen 160), Cohen was denied such an opportunity as the oldest child due to the
aforementioned economic reasons. While this does not tie in with Antin’s personal experience,
one can detect parallels to Antin’s life, as Antin’s older sister Fetchke, who was by then called
Frieda, was the daughter who had to work in her family. As Glenn argues, this can be perceived
as a rather common phenomenon, as age played an important role, for older, in particular first-
born, children, whether daughter or son, were generally more likely to be sent to work than
younger children. This suggests that the order of one’s birth outplayed the factor of one’s sex
(87). This change of a traditional pattern thus marks a particularly important adjustment to
American ways in the lives of Jewish immigrant girls.

While Mary Antin “was led to the schoolroom, with its sunshine and its singing and the
teacher’s cheery smile” (Antin 95), her sister “was led to the workshop, with its foul air, care-
lined faces, and the foreman’s stern command” (95). Mary Antin chooses this contrasted
depiction of the workshop and the school. While the working conditions in the sweatshops were
undeniably bad, her admiration of the public school seems romanticized. Not only do the
extracts above highlight the essential difference regarding the education the authors were to
receive, they also draw attention to the varying description thereof. Undeniably, this can also
be traced back to the lack of public school experience on Rose Cohen’s behalf. Yet, it is
important to note that Cohen does not speak of “sunshine” and “singing” in her sibling’s
classroom, as Mary Antin does (95). Cohen seems to value public education, but she refrains
from glorifying it.

Since Rose Cohen did not attend public school, she can be equalized with Mary Antin’s sister’s
role rather than with the autobiographer herself. Regarding her first day of school, Antin even

48
realizes this dissimilarity and states that “now our ways would lie apart” (96). By stating this,
Antin consciously separates her path in America from her sister’s, hence highlighting the
importance of education. Antin refers to her sister and yet, it can also be applied to Rose
Cohen’s experience in comparison to Mary Antin’s path of education. To sum up, not only did
both economics and money contribute to one’s chances of going to school, one’s age among
one’s siblings influenced the likelihood of receiving public education as well. Furthermore, it
can be argued that Rose Cohen’s path was the more usual one, as “most adolescent immigrants
[…] did not gain access to the public education that set Mary Antin on her path to fame and
assimilation” (Hyman 102). This lack of access to public schooling coincides with a lack of
glorification thereof.

With regard to education, Mary Antin can be perceived as the lucky one; she also portrays
herself as such, being the younger sibling who did not have to go to work. In retrospective,
Antin notes in her autobiography that she desires that “[she] had some notion of the difference
in our lots” (96), yet again referring to her sister Frieda. Antin admits that she did not have a
“sense of the injustice to her [sister]”, neither did she “g[i]ve serious thought to the matter”
(96). Through writing her own life story, Antin uses the opportunity that presents itself in front
of her. She claims that there are many aspects which she did not realize during childhood, while
being conscious about them now. Antin also tries to justify her early ignorance of the matter in
order to diminish her flaws; she uses the following statement: “[i]t was understood, even before
we reached Boston, that she would go to work and I to school. In view of the family prejudices,
it was the inevitable course. No injustice was intended” (96). Further, she expresses the thought
that it happened out of necessity and that “it would have been the culmination of his [their
father’s] best hopes to see all his children at school” (96). Antin portrays her father as a good
immigrant yet again. The lack of education ties in with economy, which holds true for Rose
Cohen’s family as well.

However, Cohen refrains from depicting her father in an idealized way. Instead she draws
attention to the financial situation of her family. Once Rose Cohen had fallen ill, the opportunity
of public education and accelerated Americanization was also denied to her sister, as money
was still scarce. On this account, Cohen states that “[w]hat little I had earned was badly missed”
(194). Conclusively, someone else had to take her place and her “father decided that sister
should leave school” (Cohen 194), despite her “good progress in the short time, considering the
drawbacks she had had, in not knowing the language” (194). Cohen also mentions that her sister
“had just learned to read and write a little, and of course she could speak English” (194). This
49
highlights the important status which Cohen attributes to language and school as an institution
which facilitates language learning. Cohen’s description suggests that her sister is a fast learner,
hence, she praises her progress.

Similarly to Antin, who speaks of her school experience in high tones, Cohen romanticizes her
sister’s educational experience in school. Likewise, many other texts which describe one’s early
years on the Lower East Side, for example, “contain warm, sometimes remarkably tender
descriptions of the years in school” (Howe 272). On this account, Cohen states that her sister
“had been known and loved by teacher and pupils throughout the little Henry Street school”
(194). Despite the lack of a personal school experience, Cohen manages to include a praising
account of school in her work. In contrast to Antin, who was promised to go to school in
America even prior to her immigration (89), Cohen’s sister apparently “did not look upon ‘free
schooling in America’ in a matter-of-fact way” (194) and appreciated the little opportunity of
this “wonderful privilege” (Cohen 194) of education that she was able to experience. This
characterization idealizes Cohen’s sister. Despite the short duration of this privileged phase of
formal education, her school experience, like many others’, “still mattered” (Sachar 161). While
one cannot possibly know what would have become of Antin if her sister Frieda had fallen ill,
it is safe to conclude from Cohen’s experience that it might have also changed Antin’s
experience of American education and Americanization.

However, this not being the case, Mary Antin was able to attend school. She describes her
experience as follows: “[t]he apex of my civic pride and personal contentment was reached on
the bright September morning when I entered the public school” (Antin 95). This statement
highlights her extremely positive attitude towards education and school. She links her increased
motivation to the following aspects, namely “the years I [she] had waited, the road I [she] had
come, and the conscious ambitions I [she] entertained” (95). Yet she does not present herself
as a singular case, but refers to her “conduct [as] typical of the attitude of the intelligent
immigrant child toward American institutions” (95). She further remarks that “[s]peaking for
the Jews, at least, I know I am safe in inviting such an investigation” (95). Antin accentuates
the positive attitude towards education that existed among Jewry in general by making this
statement (Daniels 229; Hödl 202). Nonetheless, one also has to bear in mind that not all
immigrant children, such as Rose Cohen or Mary Antin’s sister Frieda, were allowed to go to
school.

50
To a large extent, Antin’s account shows that her early experience in school accelerated her
process of Americanization. She was immersed into a system which provided the opportunity
to learn “patriotic verses in honor of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln” (Antin 98),
for example. Addressing such quintessentially American figures constitutes an important
element of her short story, for these figures represent the American ideal. Antin admits that
such verses were usually still recited “with a foreign accent, indeed, but with plenty of
enthusiasm” (98). The notion that children were exposed to such patriotic verses and
encouraged to learn about important figures of early American history exemplifies the
eagerness of the public school system to Americanize children in particular, for they seem to
be more easily influenced and guided into a distinct direction than adults. Mary Antin readily
embraced this endeavor, which she readily displays, according to her own account.

As Moore states, “American public schools offered Jews access to American society and
contact with non-Jewish Americans” (89). Due to its nature, as the public school was
“[c]ontrolled and staffed predominantly by non-Jews, public schools in immigrant
neighborhoods wrenched Jewish students away from the culture of their parents through
Americanization programs” (Moore 89). Moore’s choice of words suggests that this often
occurred forcefully and perhaps at an increased speed. Pupils encountered a wide variety of
topics in school that dealt with Americanization. This highlights the importance of the
American public school system with regard to immigrants’ education and assimilation; this
functions as a common narrative. As can be deduced from Mary Antin’s example above, the
lessons that were taught included instructions in civics and citizenship training, which, for
example, entailed singing the national anthem (Sachar 161). Overall, the school experience
facilitated the immigrants’ understanding of America as a country and the aspects of being
American. Among other factors, the contact with classmates of the same and other ethnic groups
also contributed positively to the learning process of those children who were not denied
schooling, which is generally portrayed as an important opportunity in spite of the distance it
creates to one’s old culture (Moore 89).

Antin describes her school career as quintessentially positive and successful. For example, she
“was advanced to the second grade” (Antin 98) very fast, namely “as soon as I [she] could
understand what the teacher said in class” (98). Antin’s narrative suggests that her success in
public school is closely tied to her ability to learn English. Thus, Antin emphasizes the
importance of language. While matters regarding the process of learning a language are
discussed separately, Mary Antin’s progress shall be addressed here. She states: “I was eager
51
and diligent, my teachers did not sleep. As fast as my knowledge of English allowed, they
advanced me from grade to grade, without reference to the usual schedule of promotions” (100).
Antin draws attention to her particularly fast advancements. She also mentions that an early text
written by her was published in an educational journal, hence showing off the fast-paced
learning she managed to achieve. Antin even marks this experience as “the moment when I
became a writer” (101), which, of course, she can only claim in retrospective.

It is also important to note that she attributes her early success mainly to her general ability to
learn as a Jew and family member of the Antin family (Antin 98); yet she also acknowledges
the contribution of her teacher Miss Dillingham, whose “approval was always dear to me, first
because she was ‘Teacher,’ and afterwards, as long as she lived, because she was my Miss
Dillingham” (99). It is also Miss Dillingham who was responsible for Mary Antin’s first
publication; thus she seems to have functioned as a respected mentor from early on in Antin’s
life. The description of this special relationship exemplifies—and even exceeds—the general
respect and high esteem that teachers received from the Jewish community in the Old World
and the New World alike (Karp 181; Daniels 229). Antin also directly addresses this Jewish
attitude by stating that “a school-teacher was no ordinary mortal in his [her father’s] eyes; she
was a superior being, set above the common run of men by her erudition and devotion to higher
things” (103). Even more than her own appreciation of Miss Dillingham as a teacher and friend,
her father’s apparent view supports the notion of the respectful treatment of teachers within the
Jewish faith. It further portrays her father as a good immigrant, for he respects American
institutions and the Americans involved in them. Teachers and influential people, such as the
superintendent of the Lower East Side, enjoyed respect and high esteem both by the parents and
the students of the Eastern European Jewish community, as Karp claims (181). He even states
that “the school principal was a figure of majestic status and influence” (Karp 181). Even in the
Old World, Jewish culture showed an extensive amount of respect towards educated men
(Daniels 229). This pattern often continued in America, which Antin decides to address.

Besides highlighting her own successful experience with the public school system and teachers,
Antin stresses the general role of public education, which “has done its best for us foreigners,
and for the country, when it has made us into good Americans” (105). This statement depicts
her as a person who is aware of the importance of the public school as an institution of
Americanization. Despite all the praise that Eastern European Jews, including Mary Antin, have
received due to their educational efforts, one has to note that “the New York school system
eventually was all but overwhelmed during the avalanche years of immigration” (Sachar 160).
52
Per year, the number of students on the Lower East Side increased by approximately twenty
thousand students. Looking at these numbers, it is hardly surprising that “[p]overty,
overcrowding, double shifts, language inadequacy—all took their toll in the end” (160).
Conclusively, the positive picture which Mary Antin’s readers receive appears to be based on
a crafted, purposeful description, rather than a truthful account.

Since Mary Antin depicts her process of Americanization as fast-paced and extremely
successful, it is certainly not surprising that she likes to refer to her transformation as a
“miracle” (Antin 105), which she shares with her readers willingly. Antin asks her readers for
their opinion regarding the duration required “to make an American” (105). At this point,
language is not addressed as a marker of Americanization. Instead, Antin refers to learning
about history and the prominent figure of Washington as a decisive point in her
Americanization. This suggests that she relies on American cultural and historical narratives in
order to craft a narration of her own life. It even seems as if her religion had changed from
Judaism to Americanism. She states the following: “[n]ever had I prayed, never had I chanted
the songs of David, never had I called upon the Most Holy, in such utter reverence and worship
as I repeated the simple sentences of my child’s story of the patriot” (106). This comparison to
her Jewish faith and Jewish identity brings her closer to her idea of being an American, while
it simultaneously distances herself from the Old World, since the new religion, if one will,
seems to be more present in her life and exercise more power over her than her Jewish belief.

3.2.3. Evening and Night ‘Schools’

For those who were not able to attend a public school during the day, evening or night schools
were organized; these were often linked to organizations, whose function is discussed in the
next chapter. Evening and night schools constituted an opportunity for those who had to work
during the day; thus they were attended by those who wanted “to learn English, civics, and
related subjects” (Karp 184), which would adjust them to the circumstances in the receiving
country. Yet, as Mary Antin remarks about her father, “[h]e had very little opportunity to
prosecute his education […]. His struggle for a bare living left him no time to take advantage
of the public evening school” (97). In this instance, Antin does not idealize her father; instead,
she focuses on the reasons for his absence from evening school, hence justifying his actions.
This statement also suggests that, regardless of the existence of such evening classes, some
immigrants could not afford to spend their time learning. In order to enable Rose Cohen to go
to such classes, she first had to be prevented from going to work due to her illness. Only “[n]ow

53
[…] that I had time I began to go to night school and sister came too” (Cohen 198). Ironically,
her own illness enabled her to go to night school, whereas it ended her sister’s day school
education as examined earlier.

Similarly to Rose Cohen’s sister, Mary Antin’s sister also had to go to work. Yet, she did not
enter a normal evening school. Instead, Mary Antin states that “[w]e formed ourselves into an
evening school, she and I and the two youngsters, for the study of English and arithmetic” (119).
This exemplifies the positive attitude towards learning within Antin’s family, which Antin likes
to accentuate. She describes the following: “[a]s soon as the supper dishes were put away, we
gathered around the kitchen table, with books borrowed from school, and pencils supplies by
my father with eager willingness” (Antin 119). Yet again, this statement highlights the status
of education in the family, for her father readily supported the evening school efforts.
Considering how Mary Antin decides to portray herself, it does not seem surprising that Antin
assumed the role of the teacher, while “the others [were] the diligent pupils” (119).

However, many immigrants did not take part in public education—neither during the day, nor
at night. Mary Antin’s narrative suggests that it is due to this lack of education that a vast
number of newcomers did not assimilate as fast and as thoroughly as Antin. However, some,
like Mary Antin’s father “[i]n time, indeed, […] learned to read, to follow a conversation or
lecture; but he never learned to write correctly, and his pronunciation remains extremely foreign
to this day” (Antin 97). While Antin depicts school as the key to fast and thorough assimilation,
she points to the ability of her father to make progress despite his lack of education. Cohen also
highlights the importance of public education, as before entering night school, Cohen “only
knew how to read a word here and there” (Cohen 198) and was ashamed of her current inability.
She describes “the time I spent in waiting for the teacher to call on me to read […] [as one of
the] greatest sufferings I ever had” (198). Despite the difficulty of this situation, Cohen “could
not bear to stay away” and she managed to acquire “painfully a word or two at a time” (198).
In comparison to Mary Antin’s experience with the educational system, Rose Cohen’s
schooling is described as significantly harder, as it was full of irregularity, struggles and
embarrassment, which Mary Antin did not choose to mention.

Rose Cohen manages to summarize the essential difference of both paths of education and
Americanization at an advanced point in her book. She exemplifies what can be identified as
Mary Antin’s described experience as follows: “[a] child that came to this country and began
to go to school had taken the first step into the New World” (Cohen 246). This statement

54
highlights the importance of education with regard to acculturation and Americanization. By
contrast, Cohen’s own experience can be put into a different category. Cohen describes this
category as follows: “[b]ut the child that was put into the shop remained in the old environment
with the old people, held back by the old traditions, held back by illiteracy” (246). Cohen also
depicts that she is aware of her own luck with regard to the unpromising educational situation
she found herself in. She remarks: “[o]ften it was years before he could stir away from it,
sometimes it would take a lifetime. Sometimes, too, it happened as in fairy tales, that a hand
was held out to you and you were helped out” (Cohen 246). Yet again, these statements
accentuate the importance of education, which marks an important theme in both works despite
the differences with regard to the experience and description of their educational paths.

3.3. Organizations and Institutions of Americanization

In contrast to Mary Antin’s education, which is marked by formal schooling, Rose Cohen’s
experience is connected to organizations and acts of charity. In general, organizations played
an important role in the lives of many Jewish immigrants; as Sachar puts it, these “institutions
and agencies […] functioned as instruments of acculturation” (156). The role of these
organizations in Mary Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s life shall be explored in the following
paragraphs.

3.3.1. Migration and Basic Needs

Mary Antin frequently mentions the role of emigrant aid societies in the early chapters of her
autobiography, since her family received help from such organizations. First, Antin states that
her father “was forwarded to Boston, with a host of others, at the expense of an emigrant aid
society” (Antin 69). The place from which he was forwarded by such an agency, was Germany;
his route marks the typical route for many emigrants from Eastern Europe. This excerpt also
supports the notion that Germany tried to send immigrants to other countries (Daniels 224).
Despite using the aid provided by a “charitable organization” (Antin 70), Antin notes that “he
wrote with the confidence of a well-equipped soldier going into battle” (70). This metaphor
suggests optimism, while simultaneously implying that immigration might not lead to the
desired outcome. According to Antin’s memories, her father did not appear to be ashamed at
all to travel “at the expense” (70) of such a society. She even recalls a “hint of triumph” (70)
instead, which was communicated through the letters from her father, namely the triumph of
going to America, which then also “became my [Mary Antin’s] dream” (70).

55
Mary Antin’s dream came true with the help of an emigrant aid association as well. Antin
describes that a helpful man with the name “Schidorsky, who became the agent of our salvation”
(Antin 83), functioned as a significant figure. Due to him, Antin’s mother received “a pass to
Eidtkuhnen, the German frontier station” (83). While Antin does not mention Schidorsky’s own
probable position within an aid society, she refers to his brother, a “chairman of a well-known
emigrant aid association, [who] arranged for our admission into Germany” (83). On this
account, it is important to note that they were part of an emigrant aid society and not of an
immigrant organization. The fact that the helping force supported emigration rather than
immigration highlights the importance of the law which forbade organized immigration support
by law (Gartner 94). Nevertheless, both examples show that Eastern European Jews often relied
on the help of organizations, regardless of the location where these were established.

Numerous societies, which provided aid in manifold ways—even prior to one’s arrival—
existed. The major organizations that provided aid during the 1880s were the Board of
Delegates of American Israelites, the Russian Emigrant Relief Fund and the Hebrew Emigrant
Aid Society. It was a major concern of these organizations to help the Eastern European Jewish
immigrants; yet, they were also in favor of selection and control with regard to the flow of
immigrants (Hertzberg 206). For example, the Relief Fund notified the Europeans “that
immigration must be limited” (Karp 209), as further immigration would impede the chances of
improving the Eastern European Jews’ lives in America (209). Another approach to this issue
was taken by the Hebrew Emigrant Aid Society of the over-crowded city of New York. They
recommended a journey to Europe, where a representative would propose a solution to the
existent problem in America with regard to the Jewish immigrants and their conditions. It was
the plan to visit and talk to representatives of associations in major cities in order to raise money
“for dispersing the new arrivals throughout the country” (Karp 209) in order to avoid
overcrowding in distinct American cities on the East coast, such as New York (209).

Unlike Mary Antin, Rose Cohen refers to the role of organizations and associations at a later
point in her life, which does not coincide with her journey to America. At this point, she is
already in America. While Mary Antin draws on the involvement of organizations in her
journey to America, Rose Cohen does not mention an aid organization while she and her aunt
“were stealing across the border” (56), but they still relied on the help of others (Cohen 55-56).
In Rose Cohen’s case, organizations played a role with regard to survival in the United States,
for economic depression worsened the situation of her family during a time when her mother
was sick. Upon admitting their financial struggles to a neighbor, Cohen’s father was

56
“hesitatingly [advised] to go and apply at ‘Eighth Street’” (Cohen 168). This code name was
used for referring to the United Hebrew Charities, as Cohen points out (168). Due to their
precarious situation, Cohen’s father took this advice seriously and went there, but he “returned
in the evening empty handed and sick with humiliation” (168). This suggests that accepting
help from organizations was not embraced by everyone. Additionally, Cohen also implies that
numerous people found themselves in similar situations; her family was not the only one to
accept help from organizations.

Due to the afflux that these organizations experienced, Cohen describes that one had to leave
early in the morning in order to receive support. Thus, Cohen’s father “left at dawn” (Cohen
169). Rose Cohen depicts the scene as follows: “[t]he day passed and it was dark when we heard
his footsteps in the hall. When he opened the door, we saw a pair of chicken feet sticking out
of the bag” (169). To those who sought help and did so early in the day, help seemed to be
provided indeed. However, asking for this help was not an easy task for Rose Cohen and her
family, as they came to America partly to earn money and to secure a better life. Seeking for
this kind of help from an organization then is closely linked to the notion that one has failed to
be successful in America so far. Nevertheless, Cohen decides to include it in her autobiography.
She also chooses to mention that her father is also emotionally conflicted; thus he “sat down at
the table and wept like a child” (169). On the one hand, his family—and in particular his sick
wife—need relief; on the other hand, Cohen suggests that it is difficult to admit that one has
failed to support one’s own family.

3.3.2. Americanization and Settlement Houses

Besides the aforementioned functions, organizations also had an impact on the Americanization
and education of immigrants. One of the main representatives for American Reform Judaism,
Kaufmann Kohler, stressed the need of these educational organizations “for the elevation of
these coreligionists, who were defective in education, lacking in culture, […] and speaking a
corrupt jargon of German” (Liptzin 101). These “institutions and agencies […] functioned as
instruments of acculturation” (Sachar 156) and there were several organizations of this kind,
which shared the purpose to educate the immigrants and help them advance. The kind of
education they provided included lessons “to teach him [the immigrant] English, civics,
American history—American ideals” (Sachar 156). Among these associations one finds the
Young Men’s Hebrew Association, as well as the complementary Young Women’s Hebrew
Association. Originally, however, not all organizations, including the examples above, were

57
meant to adopt educational functions (157). Associations as such also had to adjust to the
current needs, as new Jewish immigrants arrived in the United States.

Antin draws attention to this educational and societal purpose. In particular, she mentions one
organization which played a role in her life, namely Hale House (149). Likewise, Rose Cohen’s
life is influenced by this particular kind of organization, which she describes as the “Nurses’
Settlement” (Cohen 231). Most of these organizations’ ideas were targeted at the newly arrived;
their program was designed to eliminate certain disadvantages which were ultimately linked to
the “lack of knowledge of the language and culture of the American society” (Herrmann 43).
The goal of the settlement houses demanded a varied program, which included numerous
aspects. For example, it comprised the following issues: “living and working conditions,
hygiene and health care, action against corruption and exploitation, education, culture and
entertainment, in addition to a special engagement for law and administration reforms in all of
these fields” (Herrmann 42). This demonstrates the wide-ranging concerns which the settlement
houses tried to address.

These fields and the chosen approach were largely based on the general opinion of the American
middle class, for these, besides some upper class Americans, were usually the ones who devoted
their time to such organizations (Herrmann 41). Despite their important work and their
“realistic, although […] limited, approach to the problem […], [it] never became the central
tenet in the Americanization program” (Curti 186). Instead, formal education was perceived as
the primary institution to achieve this (Curti 186). However, the work of the settlement houses
cannot be neglected, as it certainly had an impact on the lives of many immigrants, including
writers such as Anzia Yezierska (Batker 108-109). In addition, Mary Antin and Rose Cohen
also visited settlement houses, which both authors depict in their texts.

Antin describes the organization which she visited as a “settlement house on Garland Streets”
(Antin 149). Similarly to the United Hebrew Charities, Hale House appears to have been rather
busy as well, as it “has plenty of work on its hands to carry a little sunshine into the grimy
tenement homes” (149). How this is achieved is not addressed, as this “beautiful story […]
cannot be told here” (149), according to Antin; as to why she cannot discuss the settlement
house’s work is not mentioned either. Yet, by drawing attention to this work, she underlines the
importance of such associations, albeit without elaborating on the general work that they did.
However, Antin deems it important to draw on her own experience with Hale House; she states
that she “may not omit to mention” (149) her personal experience with the settlement.

58
Before doing so, she also tells how she came to know about this organization in particular.
Within Antin’s family, her brother Joseph was the one “who discovered Hale House” (Antin
149). For his friends and him, Hale House functioned as a home for their debating club, for
“one of the members discovered that Hale House, on Garland Street, was waiting to welcome
the club” (150). Antin describes that it was due to the location that the “debating-club
prospered” (150), since this location offered “a genial atmosphere” (150). The next one of the
Antin family to be a frequent guest at Hale House was not Mary Antin but her sister Dora,
“joining a club for little girls which has since become famous in the Hale House district” (150).
The official purpose of this specific club was “teaching little girls the proper way to sweep and
make beds” (150); however, it surpassed this simplicity of housekeeping, as the girls were also
taught “how to beautify a tenement home by means of noble living” (150). This offers some
insight into the various functions of settlement houses, which did not only take on an
educational purpose in the sense of a debating club or other secular education, but it also taught
brought attention to gender roles and sought to teach girls such as Antin’s sister how to fulfill
these gendered expectations.

In Mary Antin’s case, Hale House fulfilled its educational purpose. She became curious about
the place since “Joseph and Dora were so enthusiastic about Hale House” (Antin 150). She does
not recall how she was “persuaded […] to try the Natural History Club” (150), for she had an
“aversion for bugs” (150). In retrospective, Antin assumes that it happened due to her not fitting
into “various girls’ clubs” (150). Besides her rapid learning progress, which distinguished her
from other immigrant children, this statement suggests an exceptional status among girls. Mary
Antin states that she was “urged […] to come to the meetings of the Natural History Club,
which was composed of adults” (150). In contrast to the attendants of other clubs, “[t]he
members of this club were not people from the neighborhood, […] but workers at Hale House
and their friends” (150). Yet again, Antin claims to be the exception to the rule, as she finds
herself among other Americans rather than other immigrants. Due to this club, Antin learned to
overcome her fears and developed a new interest; she recalls: “I was surprised at my dullness
in the past when I had rejected books on natural history” (151). According to Antin, the
settlement house did not only teach immigrants in various ways, it also had the power to inspire
them and to awaken new interests. Thus, Antin uses the settlement house as an element to
support her narrative of being a fast learner who adjusts to new situations easily.

Essentially, Mary Antin summarizes the merits and the importance of settlement houses such
as Hale House. She states that “all this is a piece of the history of Hale House” (Antin 150),
59
which emphasizes the vast variety of activities one encountered there and in similar institutions.
Further, she states that it is the settlement houses’ “business in the slums […] to mould the
restless children on the street corners into noble men and women” (150). Antin even states that
“there must be lighthouses to guide him [every child] midstream” (150). This appreciation of
the settlement house depicts yet another instance which draws attention to Antin’s awareness
of the power of education in its numerous forms, for she accentuates “how naturally the children
of the slums drift toward their salvation” (150). Salvation seems to be a rather strong term for
referring to the achievement of a public institution; yet it entails the power these organizations
had in Mary Antin’s opinion.

The settlement house which plays a role in Cohen’s life is one of many, albeit a rather famous
one, which finds mention in several books. Among others, Batker mentions the “Henry Street
Settlement in New York City” (110), which Cohen frequently visited. There she met people
such as Lillian D. Wald, who was one of many women belonging to the American Jewish
middle class. These women devoted their time and energy to settlement houses, such as the one
mentioned above (Batker 110). Generally, such settlements existed in “working-class
immigrant neighborhoods” (110) and were based on the English Social Settlements, which
functioned as a role model. Yet, the issues such settlements had to cover in England and
America differed greatly (Herrmann 41). Nevertheless, the idea of the settlements was gladly
accepted in numerous regions and this institution transformed into a trend. While one only finds
six settlements in the United States in the beginning of the 1890s, the number increased to more
than 400 by 1910 (41). It can be deduced that settlement houses became increasingly popular
throughout the years of the great migration.

In fact, it is Rose Cohen’s illness that opens a door to education and to a different world; this is
facilitated by organizations, in particular by an association which she calls the “Nurses’
Settlement” (Cohen 231). It is due to her illness that Rose Cohen gets introduced to someone
working at a settlement. Cohen describes this introduction: “I opened my eyes and saw a
woman, a stranger, sitting beside the couch. Neither in looks nor in dress had I ever seen any
one like her in our neighbourhood” (230-231). This simple observation supports the notion that
charitable organizations were usually organized by wealthier people who also worked there,
such as German Jews who immigrated earlier (Karp 205). Rose Cohen also draws attention to
the woman’s background by stating that “[s]he spoke to mother in German” (231). While she
observes that this woman knows German, Cohen does not assume anything else about Lillian
D. Wald’s background.

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Rose Cohen also mentions that she recounted this important introduction in the diary she kept
as a teenager. She claims that the remarks which she makes about this woman’s influence were
originally part of this diary and not entirely a retrospective product. Cohen wants the reader to
believe that this encounter actually happened and that she was aware of its significance as a
girl. In her diary, Cohen claims to have written the following: “Miss Wald comes to our house,
and a new world opens for us. We recommend to her all our neighbours who are in need. The
children join clubs in the Nurses’ Settlement and I spend a great deal of time there” (Cohen
231). This excerpt demonstrates the importance of Rose Cohen’s encounter with Lillian D.
Wald who, together with Miss Brewster, played a crucial role in the charitable work on the
Lower East Side and in particular on Henry Street (Howe 230; Batker 110). Cohen seems to
mention the connection to these people and this specific settlement on purpose in order to add
credibility to her own narrative.

This encounter marks a crucial moment in Rose Cohen’s life, for it opens doors. Due to her
connection to Lillian D. Wald and the settlement, Cohen’s health improves and her chances of
receiving an education increase. With regard to these aspects, Cohen claims to have written the
subsequent phrases into her diary: “I am being fed up. I am to be sent to the country for health,
for education” (231). According to her account, Lillian D. Wald proved to be essential to Rose
Cohen’s mental and physical well-being. As Cohen describes, it was “the doctor and Miss Wald
[who] thought that I had better go to the hospital first and get quite strong” (232). According to
Cohen, this was how she “missed the opportunity of the education, for it never came again”
(232). On the one hand, this appears to be true, because it is not mentioned that Cohen attended
any formal school later in her life. On the other hand, this narrative suggests that Lillian D.
Wald and others were responsible for the possibility of receiving an education in the first place
and Rose Cohen learned a lot during her time at the hospital which led to yet another educational
opportunity.

Nevertheless, Cohen attributes some of her education, “if it can be so called” (Cohen 251), to
the settlement where Lillian D. Wald worked. In comparison to a traditional school education,
Cohen’s path of education was conducted in a “painful unsystematic way all through the years”
(251). It was due to her connections to the settlement that she had certain educational
opportunities. For example, Cohen attended “[a]n informal talk [which] was to be given on
Shakespeare at the Nurses’ Settlement” (251). Cohen felt oddly misplaced there due to her lack
of education and thought that the others knew that she was not well-educated: “I felt the light
full upon me. It was on my hands, it shone into my lap, it seemed to shine right into me, showing
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my ignorance” (251). Cohen chooses to describe this feeling of shame; she uses this depiction
to point to the importance of learning and knowledge yet again.

Once Rose Cohen returns from her first stay at the hospital, she resumes work which “Miss
Wald […] at once found [for her]” (Cohen 248); subsequently, Cohen even works at the Nurses’
Settlement, for she “was to learn how to make shirtwaists in their little shop” (278). After all,
Rose Cohen does not seem to receive organized education after her stay at the hospital.
However, she also notices that the settlement seems to function as a door to “that outside world
of which I dreamed” (248), which demonstrates that Rose Cohen recognized the importance of
this particular institution. In contrast to Mary Antin and her siblings, who simply enjoyed going
to an organization such as Hale House, Rose Cohen describes that she “felt too timid to go there
often even on invitation without a ‘reason,’ some one of the reasons for which the Settlement
seemed to be established” (248). These concerns consciously add to the construction of a
thoughtful, responsible personality. Ultimately, Cohen finds a reason to go to the Settlement
House. This reason leads her towards reading again, i.e. offering a different kind of education.
Due to the books at the settlement, she also realizes that she “could read an English book” (248).
Not only does this realization establish a link between organizations and education, it also links
organizations to language and hence the experience of becoming more American.

Despite being denied “the opportunity of the education” (Cohen 232) due to her illness, it was
the stay at the hospital which ultimately resulted in a variety of opportunities. Since Rose Cohen
claims that it was “the doctor and Miss Wald” (232) who sent her there, the Nurses’ Settlement
contributed to Rose Cohen’s educational path, for the friends she made in the hospital were
responsible for her later stay in the countryside. Rose Cohen recalls: “I was in the hospital when
the doctor’s friend told me about it [White Birch Farm] and also that she was sending out
another girl” (260). At this point in Cohen’s life “going away had [already] become a necessity”
(260); this suggests that Cohen was essentially trying to flee from the ethnic enclaves of the
immigrant community on the Lower East Side. White Birch Farm can also be classified as a
charitable institution. According to Rose Cohen, it was not an organization who funded it;
instead “[t]he house belonged to a doctor—who, I heard, was a very kind man” (261). Cohen
even shows a sense of self-awareness with regard to the difference of this establishment to
others, for “[t]here was nothing of the ‘institution’ about this place” (262). At this farm, Cohen
“saw […] modern, systematic housekeeping” (262), which Cohen presents as an educational
opportunity for a girl like her. She states: “[i]n the hospital I had learned how to take care of a
sick person, of a sick room; and here I was learning something of modern housekeeping” (263).
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Cohen shows the reader that, as a girl, she was aware of the chances that such institutions
provided, even if not in the classical form of education.

In general, it was particularly among women that the popularity of the settlement houses grew;
women both functioned “[a]s providers and recipients of immigrant aid” (Batker 110). Overall,
charitable work was categorized as “woman’s work” (Hyman 30). Well-known people such as
Rebecca Gratz, who is mentioned in the chapter on Jewish Autobiography, created numerous
societies specifically designed for Jewish women. Rebecca Gratz’s work was devoted to the
Female Hebrew Benevolent Society, which “organized home relief and eventually medical care
for the local Jewish poor, an employment bureau for women and children, and a traveler’s aid
society” (Hyman 31). This society was established in 1819 (30-31). This early existence
demonstrates that immigrants were not only in need of help during the waves of great migration;
even early on, some struggled in the New World and they were glad to receive help from the
workers of said organizations.

The involvement of American middle-class women also influenced the picture of the Jewish
woman and her role within society (Batker 110). The settlements certainly had an educational
function, but the workers of organizations such as settlement houses also pushed the recipients
of the help into certain directions and prepared them for certain activities, for instance “to be
domestic servants” (Batker 110). Yet overall, American Jews in particular “were […] sensitive
to the mores and image of women” (Hyman 107). This was based on the perception that the
behavior of some newly-arrived Jews would influence the picture of the already Americanized
Jewish community. Thus, organizations such as the Educational Alliance also designed specific
classes for women which “targeted immigrant girls for socialization in respectability and in
class and gender difference” (107). This should prevent them from participating in “’white
slavery’” and “prostitution” (107). Undeniably, settlement houses and other organizations did
improve the lives of many; however, one also has to note that the programs of such settlement
houses were designed specifically for immigrants and their needs, or rather, what middle-class
Americans believed to constitute the immigrants’ needs. Ultimately, as Hyman suggests,
“Americanization of young immigrant women, as Jewish reformers understood it, entailed
adoption of American middle-class gendered norms and values” (109). Despite this goal and
the power such organizations had over some lives, there were other institutions, for example
the work environment, which influenced the immigrants’ lives to a larger extent.

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3.3.3. Libraries

Besides the fact that both Mary Antin and Rose Cohen visited settlement houses, they shared
another form of education, namely books. It shall be addressed here rather than in the subchapter
on public education, for libraries are institutionalized and played a role in the education of both
autobiographers. Both authors enjoyed their first contact with books during their time in the
Old World (Cohen 13; Antin 57-58); however, their bond with books and reading in general
only became stronger in America. Yet again, Antin’s first book was given to her by Miss
Dillingham; it was “a volume of Longfellow’s poems! It was a thin volume of selections, but
to me it was a bottomless treasure,” (Antin 103) which points to the personal value of this book.
Antin further states that she “had never owned a book before” (Antin 103). By contrast, Cohen
finds a way to read books due to saving some money from her wages; fittingly, her book was
not in English, but in Hebrew, since she lacked the proper language education to empower her
to read books in English (Cohen 188). These books, however, were simply borrowed, i.e. from
a street library, for “books could be borrowed from soda water stand keepers, if one left fifteen
cents security and paid five cents for the reading of the book” (Cohen 187). Yet again, Antin’s
and Cohen’s experience with books is as different as their educational paths. Nevertheless, both
depict that they sought the contact with books and appreciated the opportunity to read them.

Both discover libraries and use them frequently according to their accounts. Cohen states: “I do
not know how but it was now that I found that there were such things as free libraries and I
joined the one at the Educational Alliance” (252). Thus, the Educational Alliance constitutes
another organization which had an impact on her life. It was established by Jacob Schiff, Isaac
Seligman, Isidor Straus and others; in the name of the Educational Alliance, they managed to
create extremely important centers for the Jewish community (Sachar 157). Howe describes it
as a “curious mixture of night school, settlement house, day-care center, gymnasium, and public
forum” (230). In its charter, the focus is put on “Americanization, educational, social and
humanizing character” (qtd. in Sachar 157). The center which was partly created for this
purpose by the Educational Alliance offered “a well-stocked library, a gymnasium, and
facilities for vocational instruction, public lectures, theatrical performances and an
extraordinary diversity of classes” (Sachar 157-158). The center on the Lower East Side became
increasingly popular and was soon followed by similar establishments in cities such as Chicago,
St. Louis and Portland (158). It can be concluded that associations like the Educational Alliance
contributed significantly to the success of Eastern European Jewish immigrants; this
organization in particular also contributed to Cohen’s educational progress.

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Beside the books at the Henry Street settlement, Cohen thus uses the library of a different
organization. Therefore, it can be argued that organizations mark the key element to Cohen’s
access to books. Antin does not draw attention to the background of the “public library” (Antin
120) she visited. In comparison to Cohen, Antin describes that she had considerably more time
to devote to books; she was a frequent guest at the library during “[t]he stretch of weeks from
June to September, when the schools were closed” (Antin 120). Discovering the public library
even altered her attitude towards school, for now she had discovered a fitting pastime and “was
not impatient for the reopening of school” (120). The depiction of their experience with books
shows that once one had learned how to read in English, there were options to educate oneself
further by means of reading.

Overall, the parts of the autobiographies discussed in this chapter show that organizations did
play a role in the lives of Mary Antin and Rose Cohen. In particular, Rose Cohen’s life was
marked by the influence of organizations, for she did not attend a regular public school. As
portrayed in her autobiography, she sought different opportunities to educate herself and
appreciated the ones she found. As can be deduced, Cohen sought to portray organizations as
an essential element of her learning process in America. Thus, her experience offers more
examples of encounters with organizations. It cannot be denied that Mary Antin chose to portray
her experience with Hale House and the public library as important features on her journey of
education. Both depictions support the notion that charity organizations influenced the lives of
many immigrants.

3.4. Names and Language

The following subchapter seeks to explore the role of language and names with regard to
Americanization. This chapter is devoted to the process of learning the English language as
depicted in the chosen autobiographies. In addition, the importance of English-sounding first
names shall be addressed, for this matter is related to the aspect of language. Besides examining
the importance of changing one’s name, it is the goal of this chapter to examine how crucial the
knowledge of English is in order to pass as American.

3.4.1. Name Change

While learning a language does not necessarily require a first name that sounds as if one was a
native speaker of said language, a name can tell a lot about one’s origin; one’s name can be
adjusted to the environment easily, and this change does not require a lot of time (Edwards 3;

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Clifton 404). Despite the existence of this phenomenon of acculturation, it has not been
addressed appropriately with regard to American history and American Jews in particular
(Fermaglich 34-35). Instead, this act has often been dismissed as “a simple index of
assimilation” (Fermaglich 35), which seems rather surprising considering the fact that
“immigration historians have long questioned the notion of simple, unidirectional assimilation”
(35). While the act of name changing appears to be rather simple, it is also quite important. As
argued by John Edwards, “[n]ames influence our perceptions of others” (3). Likewise, “names
are […] seen as a badge of cultural and national identity” (Clifton 404). Thus, it seems obvious
that immigrants often sought to change their names, as this would allow them to blend in with
the American world to some extent.

Rose Cohen, whose old name was Rahel, draws attention to this narrative of name changing.
Upon entering her father’s workplace for the first time, Rose Cohen was immediately
confronted with the Jewishness of her old name. Cohen describes that her father’s boss’ wife
was an American and “[w]hen she had worked a few minutes she asked father in very imperfect
Yiddish: ‘Well, Mr. , have you given your daughter an American name?’” (Cohen 82).
Describing the time it took for this American woman to ask about Rose’s name as a few minutes
highlights the urgency that was often felt with regard to the change of one’s Yiddish name.
Cohen tried to depict this urgency. After all, “[d]ifferent names have different connotations:
some are perceived as much more attractive than others, and those to whom they belong may
expect different types of treatment form peers, teachers and bosses” (Edwards 34). Since
Eastern European Jewish immigrants tended to conduct the name change quite fast, they seem
to have been aware of the power of such names, hence finding it necessary to alter their names.

This awareness is shared by Rose Cohen who chooses to adhere to this phenomenon by means
of her own narrative. According to Cohen’s description, her father does not seem surprised by
this question, which also points toward the usualness of this change. He declines her question
and asks her, the American, “What would you call her? Her Yiddish name is Rahel” (Cohen
82). While the American is trying to think of a suitable name, the course of these events brings
attention to the other workers as well, as “[t]he machines were going slowly and the men looked
interested” (82), which points to the general importance of this change. One of the workers even
takes part in the conversation and points out that “Rahel is Rachel” (82), which the American
woman does not perceive as a right fit, since “[e]very loafer who sees a Jewish girl shouts
‘Rachel’ after her” (82). She then suggests “Ruth for a name” (82), which Cohen “should like
to be called” (82). While it is arguable whether this relates to a true experience or not, it is
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important to acknowledge that Cohen decides to support the narrative of name changing as part
of her own autobiography. Edwards claims that “the misuse or the appropriation of names and
stories can be both an insult and an attack on identity” (3), yet, according to her story, Rose
Cohen takes this change at ease. Her depiction coincides with the notion that such changes were
voluntary acts (Fermaglich 35). In addition, changing one’s first name occurred unofficially,
which makes Cohen’s portrayal of name changing part of the classical “stories of unofficial
name changing that symbolize Americanization in countless immigrant memoirs and novels”
(35-36).

In contrast to Rose Cohen’s experience, Mary Antin’s original first name changes hardly at all.
As a girl in the Old World her name was “Maryashe”, which, as she claims, was “too dignified”
(Antin 37). As described in her text, she was usually addressed by others by means of nicknames
such as “Mashinke” or “Mashke” amongst others prior to her migration. Once her family had
arrived in America she remarks that “we shed also our impossible Hebrew names” (90), hence
adhering to the name changing narrative. Henceforth, Maryashe is called Mary, which remains
her name as an author as well. Similarly to Rose Cohen’s description, Antin describes the name-
changing process as follows: “[a] committee of our friends, several years ahead of us in
American experience, put their heads together and concocted American names for us all” (90).
For her mother, this committee comes up with “the undignified nickname of Annie” (90), while
“Fetchke, Joseph, and Deborah issued as Frieda, Joseph, and Dora, respectively” (90). Despite
the fact that her brother Joseph keeps his name as well, Mary feels “simply cheated”, since her
name is “hardly new” (90). On this behalf, she explains the following: “[m]y Hebrew name
being Maryashe in full, Mashke for short, Russianized into Marya (Mar-ya), my friends said
that it would hold good in English as Mary; which was very disappointing, as I longed to possess
a strange-sounding American name like the others” (90). Not only does Mary Antin draw
attention to the importance of name change, she also uses this common theme to characterize
herself as an eager immigrant who tries to create a distance to the homeland by disposing herself
of her old name, hence shedding a part of her identity.

Instead of Mary Antin, Rose Cohen’s aunt whom Cohen traveled with receives a more
American name, namely Jenny, a name which does not resemble her original name Masha. As
Cohen states, it was already “[t]he first time we went and asked to see her” (90), when they
realized that her name had changed. Luckily, the “mistress [who] opened a door in the back of
the store” (Cohen 90) knew whom they want to visit “and called in a shrill voice, ‘Jen-nie ,
Jennie’” (90). Since this incidence occurs upon their first visit, the urgency of changing one’s
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name is accentuated again by Cohen’s writing. Moreover, it points to the problematic situations
that name-changing can create. If the mistress who opened the door did not know aunt Masha’s
old name, finding the right person in an instant could have been problematic. It is not too
surprising then that some immigrants could not find people whom they had known in the Old
World, for if you do not know where to look and what the name of this person might be now,
there is little to start your search with. As Mary Antin expresses with her wish to “possess a
strange-sounding American name” (90), the example of Masha emphasizes the—often
desired—distance from one’s origins that a name can create.

In the case of Rose Cohen’s family, it does not require a committee or an American to change
the newly-arrived family members’ names anymore. As Cohen describes, “[o]f father and
myself, I was the more Americanised” (152). She bases this observation on grounds of her
ability to “converse in English a little while, [whereas] he could not talk it at all” (Cohen 152).
Thus, it is her task to “translat[e] the children’s names” (151). According to her description,
Cohen took this responsibility seriously and “longed to call them by names that were not only
American but also unusual” (152). Ultimately, Cohen states that she “felt uneasy at the thought
that there was no resemblance between Hebrew and the English names” (152). This suggests
that she is not ready to loosen the ties to her roots, despite desiring to Americanize certain
aspects.

Notwithstanding the wish to provide her family members with unusual names, she then resolves
to “translat[ing] them into English after all” (Cohen 152), which supports the preceding
statement. Simultaneously, Cohen points to a wish to adjust to the current environment. She
finds herself in between two cultures and tried to handle this specific situation by
compromising. While she does not alter the names of her sisters too much, she succumbs to
Americanization and decides to call her brother “Morgan, though his name translated was
Ezekiel” (Cohen 152). This decision elicits an array of feelings. On the one hand, Rose Cohen
states “I felt ashamed of my desire to call my brother Morgan” (152); on the other hand, she
admits that “neither could I bear to give it up” (152). Her conscious step towards
Americanization leaves her at unease and yet, she decides to take it, even if it is not all too easy
as some might “ridicule” her when “call[ing] him by that name” (152). At this point, Rose
Cohen seems to lean towards becoming American, yet she is also scared of the judgmental
attitude of people who still adhered to the ways of the Old World.

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Overall, these examples depict the importance of name change. It can be perceived as a common
modification that affected the majority of immigrants. Jewish immigrants seem to have been
aware of the power of name changing; apparently, they believed in Clifton’s observation “that
the more the immigrant population adopts names associated with the host country, the more
they are perceived to be assimilated into the culture of the host country” (404). While names
are clearly linked to language, as the names are supposed to be English-sounding, the change
of one’s name marks a change that is completed quickly and does not require too much
knowledge of the language itself. It also ties in with the changing of one’s clothes, as it merely
contributes to a superficial way of blending in. In contrast, knowledge of the actual language is
needed to integrate on a deeper level and to improve one’s prospects in American life.
Conclusively, learning the language of the receiving country plays an important role with regard
to Americanization and acculturation in general, as communication often functions as a key
element to improve living circumstances and job opportunities, as well as it contributes to
mutual understanding. Unlike the Irish and many of today’s immigrants, Jews did usually not
know English prior to their arrival in the New World. In addition, some, as explained above,
could not attend school, hence delaying and disrupting their learning experience. The role and
process of language learning as experienced by Mary Antin and Rose Cohen is depicted in the
subsequent paragraphs.

3.4.2. Learning English

In order to demonstrate the importance of language with regard to Americanization, I would

like to draw on Henry Grunwald’s experience with learning English. He argues that “language
is an important part of becoming American; language is life” (19). This highlights the
importance which he attributes to learning the native language of the country one resides in;
this also becomes evident in Mary Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s works and is linked to the feeling
of belonging. Grunwald describes his personal experience as follows: “I felt myself truly
liberated by English – and, incidentally, felt fully naturalized as an American when I started
dreaming in English” (Grunwald 19). This exemplifies that mastering a language does indeed
support the feeling of being at home in a country. Thus, he accentuates the importance of
language in the general context of migration and identity-formation, which was also
experienced by Mary Antin and Rose Cohen, for knowing English facilitated their paths of life
in America.

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One also has to note that Yiddish “survived with extraordinary tenacity in the United States”
(Gartner 377). To some extent, Americanization was even possible for people who did not know
any English, as “[a] popular Yiddish-language literature sprang up to educate customers on the
‘modern’ (American) way of cooking and nutrition, parenting, health care and hygiene,
homemaking, matchmaking, and a host of other activities” (Chiswick 17). This demonstrates
that English was not perceived as a necessity in the lives of those immigrants who were either
confined to their domestic space or apparently satisfied with most of their situation in their
ethnic neighborhoods. However, Mary Antin and Rose Cohen were not among these people.
Their decision to write in English contributed to a different kind of literature, which can be
distinguished from Yiddish works (Chametzky et al. 13). English cannot only be perceived as
“their passport to acculturation in America” (Wirth-Nesher, “Language” 213), but English also
constitutes the base for their literary success among non-Jewish readers. Due to writing in
English and describing the Jewish experience in America, they also “ma[d]e the Old World
accessible to the New” (214). Conclusively, English certainly functions as an important element
in Mary Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s success and their experience of becoming American.

First, Mary Antin’s attitude towards learning languages shall be examined. Prior to their
immigration, Mary Antin and her sister received secular education that included learning
“Russian and German and arithmetic” (Antin 57). This highlights Hana Wirth-Nesher’s
observation that “languages other than the one in which the Jewish community lived has always
characterized Jewish civilization” (“Language” 213). Due to the fact that Mary Antin’s sister
Fetchke was older and Antin’s “health too delicate for much study” (60), Mary Antin was not
allowed to “take up new subjects as fast as Fetchke did” (60). However, her urge for learning
languages in particular, is consciously expressed in the following statement: “I looked on, I
listened, when Fetchke rehearsed her lesson at home. And one evening I stole the Russian
primer and repaired to a secret place I knew of” (60). This extract exemplifies Mary Antin’s
eagerness to learn languages, which does not cease despite the fact that she and her sister “had
to give up our teacher, because the family fortunes began to decline” (60). Similarly to
education in the New World, education in the Old World is connected to money, albeit for
different reasons. Despite the early end to her language classes, Mary Antin remains eager to
learn, which is mentioned throughout her autobiography.

Overall, Antin likes to attribute herself with an aptitude for learning languages. She states that
she “loved the sound of the words” (Antin 57) of Hebrew and “pronounced Hebrew very well”
(57) in addition to “ca[tching] some mechanical trick of accent and emphasis” (57). Antin does
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not ascribe her fast progress in heder to her teacher despite mentioning him; she decides to draw
attention to her own ability. Later on, when she learns English, she mentions her teacher, but
she states explicitly that she does not owe her “teacher all the credit” (Antin 98). On this account
she notes that “I shall divide it with her on behalf of my race and my family” (98), hence
implying her awareness of her general aptitude that others might lack. On behalf of her
background, she states the following: “I was Jew enough to have an aptitude for language in
general, and to bend my mind earnestly to my task” (98). Her statement supports the notion of
Jews generally being good students. In addition, she admits her own Jewishness and the fact
that Jews often spoke several languages (Wirth-Nesher, “Language” 213).

This claim is also supported by an incident described in Rose Cohen’s book. During one of her
stays in the hospital, a doctor talks to her about a book she is reading. When Cohen explains
that “[i]t is Yiddish” (237), he recognizes similarities with German, which “like every Jewish
person I [Rose Cohen] made some claim to being able to speak” (Cohen 238). He seems to be
surprised and interested at the same time and asks her whether she speaks any other languages.
Rose Cohen tells him that she speaks “Russian […] in the peasant dialect of the village from
which I come” (238). The extent to which Rose Cohen knew these languages is questionable;
however, this excerpt exemplifies what Mary Antin exclaims about Jews and their aptitude for
language in general. Rose Cohen’s abilities support Mary Antin’s portrayal of Jewishness,
regardless of their different experiences with learning English.

Besides attributing credit to her teacher and her Jewishness, Mary Antin credits a third party
for being a fast learner. The last portion of this tripartite merit is devoted to her family. Despite
being part of the Jewish community due to her family, Antin mentions this aspect separately,
as being part of her family is merely responsible for her general attitude towards learning, but
not for her aptitude for language learning. This is also highlighted by her belief that her father
“was hindered by a natural inability to acquire the English learning” (Antin 97), even though
he made progress over time. Thus she does not address learning languages in particular when
mentioning her family, instead she says “I was Antin enough to read each lesson with my heart,
which gave me an inkling of what was coming next, and so carried me along by leaps and
bounds” (98-99). Once more, this description emphasizes the positive attitude of her parents
towards education and the status of learning in general.

This familial support certainly also influences her in her learning and her attitudes towards
knowledge. Antin is even aware of this situation; she mentions: “[I] had my family to cheer me

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on” (98). Furthermore, it has to be noted here that she encounters English primarily in school.
It is clear that learning English was a priority in American schools (Moore 90), thus her effort
was encouraged by teachers. In schools, the “culturally symbolic importance of language”
(Moore 90) was highlighted; Sachar notes, “youngsters were drilled incessantly on English
pronounciation” (161). However, this only applied to English, for Yiddish was not practiced in
school. It was considered to be of “lower class” and simultaneously tied in with the “’un-
American’ culture of their [the teacher’s] pupils’ parents” (Moore 90). Once more, education
links with language and conjointly, they play a role in the process of Americanization of Mary
Antin. The focus on language in school contributed to the formation of a new, i.e. American,
identity, since a certain distance to the Yiddish language and background was established in the
context of the public school.

The importance of the public school with regard to language learning becomes even more
evident upon comparing Mary Antin’s experience to that of other people who could not attend
school in America and whose story is not told as one of successful and smooth Americanization.
On her first day at school in America, for example, Antin describes her father’s English as
“impossible” (98) and claims that there were many thoughts which her “father’s best English
could not convey” (98). Even though her father had arrived in America prior to the rest of the
family’s arrival, he does not know how to communicate properly in English, which can partly
be attributed to his lack of education. This lack can also be ascribed to the fact that he might
have hardly encountered English during his everyday life, hence lacking the necessity to learn
this language as well. This is also suggested by Mary Antin’s teacher, who states that Mary
Antin “has heard English spoken only at school” (Antin 101). Thus, access to education played
an extremely significant role with regard to language learning.

The status of English in public schools can be demonstrated using the example of Julia
Richman, who was a rigorous opponent of the Yiddish language. Sachar describes her as “a
uniquely forceful personality” (161) who, after pursuing a typical teacher’s career, became the
“superintendent of schools for the Lower East Side” (161). Despite her German Jewish heritage,
she prohibited Yiddish as a language during breaks and in private conversations. As a
punishment, she “encouraged teachers to monitor their pupils and wash out with soap the
mouths of those who relapsed” (Moore 90). In defense of her strict approach towards the use
of Yiddish, Moore argues that “[m]astery of English signified the formal cultural baptism—the
acceptance into American life—of these new Americans” (90-91). This statement both

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highlights the importance of outstanding language skills as well as the significance of schools
in America, which constitutes a prominent theme in both autobiographies.

Thus, learning English proved to be more problematic for those who could not attend public
school. Similarly to Antin’s father’s experience, Cohen’s encounter with English does not take
place in the protected environment of a school. Instead, she claims that the work environment
of her father provides her with some insight into the English language (Cohen 87). Rose Cohen
sums up how many immigrants learn English by means of describing the experience of a man
she corresponds with. She states the following: “English he had picked up in some such way as
a hen gathered food, a crumb here and a crumb there” (Cohen 306). Perhaps Rose Cohen’s path
of language learning can be described as more continuous due to night school and the
opportunities that she seized in the hospital. Yet, according to her narrative, what she learned
was “picked up” (306) from different institutions. For those who did not learn English in an
educational institution, this description appears to be accurate. Without continuing lessons,
there were often not many options of acquiring the language systematically, which supports
Cohen’s idea that many “picked up” (306) a word here and there.

Despite her positive and continuous experience with regard to language, Antin also addresses
some of the problems which she encounters. The major issue Antin discusses concerns
pronunciation: “I remember to this day what a struggle we had over the word ‘water’” (100).
While she admits her own difficulties, she derogates them simultaneously. She uses the pronoun
we, which implies that it was a common phenomenon to struggle with certain sounds. In this
instant, she does not draw attention to her exceptional status, for she is part of a bigger group
of immigrants who experience similar struggles. Nevertheless, she also emphasizes her own
experience by stating: “[i]t seemed as if I could not give the sound of w; I said ‘vater’ every
time” (Antin 100). With regard to this specific instant she also gives credit to her teacher who
helped her by means of “inventing mouth exercises” (100). This draws attention to the
importance of the educational system yet again. Another situation which Antin mentions
describes the struggle with “the definite article, and sometimes the lesson resolved itself into a
species of lingual gymnastics, in which we all looked as if we meant to bite our tongues off”
(99). This shows that the main aspect of her struggles with English concerns pronunciation,
which seems to remain a struggle for the majority of her life, since Antin exclaims that “I
learned at least to think in English without an accent” (164) by the time she finishes writing the
autobiography. While this statement points to a development of Americanization during the
writing process, it also suggests that pronunciation still constitutes a problem. However, Mary
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Antin does not blame her teacher for not learning how to pronounce certain words properly, as
she states that “[i]t is not her fault if any of us to-day give a buzzing sound to the dreadful
English th” (Antin 99). This suggests that Mary Antin was aware of the importance of her
education. Without the help of the teachers and the consistency of her school career, she might
have experienced considerably more struggle throughout the language learning process in spite
of her own aptitude for learning languages.

The struggle that Rose Cohen encounters is different. She accentuates how much she still has
to learn when she describes her stay at the hospital, which can be perceived as an entirely
American environment. She notices that “[t]he English spoken here and by the nurses in the
Settlement was so different from the Yiddish English that I knew” (Cohen 234). Cohen detects
that there are different variations of English and that her own English is strongly influenced by
her mother tongue, namely Yiddish. This specific instant depicts that she is self-conscious about
her language proficiency, for she doubts her ability to understand due to the unknown situation.
She states the following: “[t]he more I thought over it the more impossible it seemed that I had
caught the right ‘English words.’ But what did she mean? I sat and blamed myself for not having
been more attentive” (234). Essentially, Cohen states that she blames herself for not being able
to understand, even though she understood the right words in this specific instance; their
meaning simply seemed odd to her due to cultural differences. However, she does not ask for
clarification due to a mix of insecurities which are related to language, culture and the fear of
not belonging.

In contrast to Rose Cohen, Mary Antin does not seem to hesitate in order to receive clarification
in the safe environment of the public school. Thus, she portrays herself as a self-confident girl.
When Mary Antin’s teacher asks her to solve the following mathematics riddle: “[i]f Johnnie
has three marbles, and Charlie has twice as many, how many marbles has Charlie?” (Antin 99),
Mary Antin admits immediately that she cannot answer the question, since she “do[es]n’t know
vhat is tvice” (Antin 99). It seems comparatively easy for her to admit to her own language
deficiencies; she even underlines her difficulties with regard to pronunciation by writing vhat
and tvice instead of what and twice, hence mimicking the faulty sounds which she probably
produced at this point. The school environment seemingly provides a particularly safe
environment that allows mistakes and a lack of knowledge, whereas the real world outside of
school fails to achieve this. In addition, one can deduce that the portrayal of Antin’s and
Cohen’s characters differ significantly, for Antin seems fearless.

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Despite not asking for clarification in the hospital (Cohen 234), Rose Cohen admits to her lack
of knowledge publicly in retrospective, since she draws attention to her deficiencies in her
autobiography. In hindsight, it seems easy to address former issues, since the act of writing a
book in English proves that she has overcome many difficulties. At one point she asks “What
could I explain?” (Cohen 265) and answers her own question immediately by stating “I could
not express myself well enough in English” (Cohen 265-266). In another instance, she describes
the disability “of not being able to express myself well enough in English” (276) as an obstacle.
This appears to depict a distinct sense of self-awareness with regard to Rose Cohen’s own
language learning process and the importance of conquering said language in order to
communicate properly. The lines above prove that Cohen has already achieved this when she
addresses her former lack of language skills in English.

This is a result of her continuous effort; despite her difficulties, she does not stop learning
English. Her autobiographical text suggests that she is aware of the worth of knowing English
and seizes the few opportunities to pursue her language learning process. Yet again, it is her
illness which provides Cohen with this opportunity, despite ending her sister’s regular school
education, as aforementioned (Cohen 198). Besides the night school, it is the hospital which
functions as an important educational institution for Rose Cohen. She recognizes the hospital
as an important institution for her education in addition to improving her health. She states
“when I felt sick I went to the hospital. And here was my chance. I was hearing good English,
I was reading and with the trait of my race for adaptability I was quickly learning the ways of
this country” (Cohen 256). Not only does this extract show that an education of some kind in
an American environment was all she needed, it also depicts that Rose Cohen shares Mary
Antin’s opinion regarding the adaptability of Jews. While Mary Antin reduces the Jewish
adaptability to acts of language learning (Antin 98), Cohen portrays it as a general adaptability
which can be applied to many aspects of Americanization.

Rose Cohen recognizes the challenges which the real world holds for immigrants. Some of
these challenges are linked to English. For example, Cohen realizes the following: “[i]f I had
had difficulty in finding my way to the hospital, what must the trip have been for her [i.e. her
mother] who could neither speak nor understand a word of English” (235). This statement
highlights the necessity of knowing the language that is spoken in one’s country of residence,
as the lack of knowledge even complicates simple everyday matters once one leaves the
immigrant environment. It also draws attention to the fact that many immigrants did not master
the language.
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To sum up, one can argue that the extracts used in the preceding paragraphs support the notion
that learning English played an important role in the process of Americanization, for language
is linked to the feeling of belonging. As such, language learning proved to be difficult and
discontinuous for many immigrants such as Rose Cohen. In comparison, learning English was
facilitated for those who were allowed to attend school like Mary Antin, as portrayed in her
account. All in all, language learning can be perceived as an ongoing process that is difficult to
grasp, for it marks a distinguished experience for almost every immigrant. In contrast, changing
one’s name marks a rather superficial alteration that could be made in order not to appear to be
a so-called greenhorn upon one’s introduction to another person.

3.5. Physical Appearance and Tradition

This subchapter seeks to examine the undergoing changes of the immigrants with regard to their
physical appearance, or as Antin suggests, the “outward symbols of obedience inseparable from
the spirit” (116). Since the matter of physical appearance ties in with established rules in
Judaism, the loss or maintenance of Jewish traditions is addressed in this chapter as well.
Overall, the Jews who came to America brought with them a distinct culture, which entailed
various aspects. These characteristics distinguished Jews from other immigrants, thus “the act
of assimilation was extremely complicated for Jews” (Motley 4). Despite the conscious decision
to emigrate and the general willingness to assimilate, “[m]any immigrants attempted to
transplant and conserve Old World traditions” (Glenn 3). Indeed, some managed to retain
certain aspects of their belief, as expored below. Yet, many features were disbanded, albeit at a
difference pace. How this change occurred in Rose Cohen’s and Mary Antin’s lives is examined
below.

3.5.1. A Lack of Hair and New Clothes

Upon Rose Cohen’s arrival in America, she exclaims that “[f]ather was so changed” (Cohen
69). When aunt Masha and she are still on the boat, they catch a glimpse of a man who is waving
at them. While aunt Masha recognizes him as Rose Cohen’s father instantly, Rose Cohen is
wondering about the man “who is smiling and waving his hand” (64). This moment underlines
Cohen’s statement regarding the change of her father. Undeniably, this noticeable change only
refers to physical appearance, as Rose Cohen had hardly talked to her father when she observed
the changes. Her awareness also derogates the initial excitement, the “thrill” that she feels.
Instead, Cohen’s feelings shift towards disappointment, she even becomes “a little homesick”
(69) due to her father’s changed appearance. The fact that he is wearing different clothes does
76
not shock her, for Cohen “hardly expected to find him in his black long tailed coat in which he
left home” (69). Instead, her disappointment is based on the observation that he has changed
the traditionally Jewish attributes of the “full grown beard and earlocks” (69). She highlights
this link to the Jewish religion by stating that “[f]ather had been the most pious Jew in our
neighbourhood” (69). Due to this previous piousness she is rather shocked to encounter “a
young man with a closely cut beard and no sign of earlocks” (69). Cohen’s portrayal suggests
that her father is the more Americanized at this point, who has already distanced himself from
the Old World. This depiction also points to the changes which await Rose Cohen.

Her experience is an example for the general rapid change of many immigrants’ physical
appearance. This phenomenon found frequent mention in the literature produced at the turn of
the twentieth century; “American clothing and appearance were among the first symbols they
[Jews] adopted as a sign of cultural intermingling” (Schreier 25). Schreier claims that clothes
marked an almost equally important issue as learning English (25), which accentuates the
important role of clothing in the experience of becoming American. Essentially, this change
marks an easy way of turning from “greenhorn” to “American Jew” (25), a transition, which
Cohen’s father had seemingly completed at the time of Rose Cohen’s arrival. Conversely,
adhering to the physical attributes of the Old World would have resulted in being referred to as
a greenhorn (Dittmar 48). Since altering one’s physical appearance is often perceived as a
superficial, or rather, an obvious change, it ties in with the act of name changing, for both acts
occur long before other aspects of the process of becoming American are completed. Despite
constituting a rather easy and fast-paced act, it showed effect, for “[d]ressing stylishly helped
to blur […] obvious differences” (Schreier 27). Yet, it was not only a superficial change for
Jews, for this symbolic change is strongly linked to Jewish tradition.

Interestingly, Mary Antin does not draw attention to her father’s looks upon arrival, she
addresses them at a later point. She recalls the incident as follows: “[a]nd when we joined my
father, and I saw that he did not wear the sacred fringes, […] I was neither surprised nor
shocked” (Antin 114). Thus, Mary Antin’s depiction of her arrival differs greatly from Rose
Cohen’s encounter with her father. However, the reason for this difference does not lie in a
different picture of the Old World. Instead, it seems to be rather personal, for Mary Antin had
previously observed how her father broke the rules of Sabbath even prior to his immigration.
She explains that on a “Sabbath night […] he had with his own hand turned out the lamp” (114),
which is not allowed. According to her own account, Mary Antin had experienced some kind
of disorientation and shock prior to her arrival in America. Thus, she claims not to be surprised
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to find out that her father’s appearance had changed during his time in America; instead, she
draws attention to her own outlook on religion. It is also possible that Mary Antin was prepared
for this change, as prospective immigrants would often be informed “about the differences in
American styles from friends and relatives, [and] beg[i]n to make sartorial adjustments even
before they left Eastern Europe” (Schreier 26).

Upon arrival, Antin decides to focus on personal thoughts on America rather than referring to
her father’s changed physical appearance. With regard to her family’s reunion, she merely
describes that “my father received us in his arms” (Antin 87). Nevertheless, she claims to
remember that “[m]y father found occasion to instruct or correct us even on the way from the
pier to Wall Street” (89). While this remark does not suggest anything about their physical
appearance, it addresses their Old World behavior. Their manner needs to be altered similarly
to one’s appearance in order not to appear like a newcomer. On this note, Antin states that “[h]e
[her father] told us not to lean out of the windows, not to point, and explained the word
‘greenhorn.’ We did not want to be ‘greenhorns,’ and gave the strictest attention to my father’s
instructions” (89). These instructions regarding the family’s behavior constitute a different form
of education, albeit a rather basic one that Mary Antin describes upon arrival; her depiction also
suggests that she takes the instructions seriously.

Although this type of education deviates from the classical forms of school and evening classes,
Mary Antin even describes the people “who came to us on Wall Street and taught us our first
steps” (90) as her “American teachers” (90). She even refers to one of these teachers as “[a]
fairy godmother to us children” and “an angel of deliverance” (90) to her mother. In particular,
Mary Antin and her family appreciate this person greatly, since she helps them change their
physical appearance from greenhorn to American. Antin describes the early experience as
follows: “she […] led us to a wonderful country called ‘uptown,’ where, in a dazzlingly
beautiful palace called a ‘department store,’ we exchanged our hateful homemade European
costumes, which pointed us out as ‘greenhorns’ to the children on the street, for real American
machine-made garments, and issued forth glorified in each other’s eyes” (Antin 90). While
Antin might have known about certain physical changes which occurred in America, this
example depicts that, in contrast to others, she and her family had not adjusted to the American
style prior to their arrival (Schreier 26). In addition, the words that she chooses to describe this
experience are extremely positive, hence contrasting with the hate she appears to feel for Old
World clothes.

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This particular passage also demonstrates the importance of looking like an American, which,
besides behavior, includes one’s dress above all. However, this does not imply that one looks
like every American, for not all people could afford the same clothes. Even long after the
experience of changing one’s clothes, Mary Antin speaks of her “shabby and ill-fitting clothes”
(137) in comparison to those of her fellow students at Latin School. Similarly, Rose Cohen
observes that the people she meets at the hospital “looked so different from our Americans on
Cherry Street” (242). This shows that both authors acknowledge the limits of the act of blending
in by means of one’s clothes. Thus it is likely that newly arrived Jews used clothes in order to
look like other immigrants or poorer Americans; yet they did not succeed to pass as wealthier
Americans.

Overall, Rose Cohen does not draw a lot of attention to her own physical appearance in the
New World; she merely discusses the attitude of her brother and mother towards clothing. In
contrast to Mary Antin’s shopping experience (90), Cohen states that “no money could be
spared for new clothes” (151), hence “the children had to wear out what they had” (151). She
does not address her own feelings towards this fact, but she argues that her brother struggled
with his Eastern European look, in particular with “[h]is shoes, made by our village shoemaker,
[that] were in excellent condition in spite of the rough treatment of fumigation” (Cohen 151).
As she points out, “shoes more than any other article of clothing showed the ‘greenhorn’” (151).
Similarly to Mary Antin’s experience discussed above, the term greenhorn is used here to
signify an undesired form of appearance that can be detected at first glance. This appearance
also causes tantalization “by the children in the street” (151). Thus, Cohen’s brother “would
come into the house in tears. He begged and cried and demanded ‘American’ shoes but it was
no use” (151). Eventually, he rids himself of this sign of backwardness, as he “threw them so
that he himself should not be able to find them” (151). His strong emotions about a simple piece
of clothing exemplify the importance of assimilation on the superficial level of physical
appearance, which Cohen was clearly aware of.

3.5.2. Showing Your Hair as a Woman

However, not all immigrants take the same action as Rose Cohen’s brother. For example, Rose
Cohen’s mother’s attitude toward clothes is depicted differently. She does not seem to pay
attention to her own looks after her arrival. Instead, as Cohen claims, it is her daughter, who
immigrated before her, who wants to change her mother’s appearance. However, talking about
her mother, she does not use the term greenhorn; instead, Rose Cohen says that she “noticed

79
that she [her mother] looked older and more old-fashioned than father” (152). The term old-
fashioned suggests that her physical appearance is still linked to the Old World. In other words,
Cohen’s mother looks like a newcomer, even if Cohen does not state this explicitly. Cohen
further explains: “I noticed that it was so with most of our women, especially those that wore
wigs or kerchiefs on their heads” (152). The fact that Cohen speaks of our women is particularly
interesting in this case. Clearly, Cohen addresses a group which she and numerous other people
belong to. It seems obvious that the group she addresses is the Jewish community, since
covering one’s hair is considered the norm among married women within Orthodox Judaism
(Uffen 23-24; Scheier 28). Thus, this example shows that certain acts of adjustment were only
relevant to Jewish immigrants.

This establishes yet another link between physical appearance and Judaism. While clothes
reveal one’s recent arrival as an immigrant of any origin, physical attributes such as wigs,
earlocks and a long beard, were often signs of Judaism, hence revealing even more of one’s
background, as they distinguish Jews from other groups. Christian immigrants did not have to
alter their physical appearance as much in order to blend in, for they lacked designated religious
physical attributes (Siegel 28). With regard to this change, Motley states that “[e]very act of
assimilating [or rather, acculturating] into modern American culture (no matter how seemingly
small), such as a woman uncovering her head in public, a man shaving off his beard, […] carried
profound religious significance” (4). Nonetheless, basic forms of acculturation demanded these
acts of removing one’s Jewish physical attributes, i.e. one’s beard, sidelocks or wigs. These acts
also constitute a frequently mentioned topic in various other Jewish American literary texts,
which points to how important this change was.

The significance of these physical attributes is part of the reason why Rose Cohen decides to
highlight the feelings of shock and sadness upon arrival (Cohen 69). Even some time after her
arrival, Cohen watches her father “clipping his beard” (106). She describes the experience as
follows: “I was so surprised and shocked to see him actually do this thing that I could neither
speak nor move for some minutes. And I knew that he too felt embarrassed” (106). As a reason
for his behavior, her father then points out that “they don’t like Jews on Cherry Street” (106).
Thus, Cohen deems it important to point out that Jews were fully aware of the fact that anti-
Semitism also exists in the United States and that a certain physical appearance could be
dangerous and detrimental to one’s opportunities.

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This change ties in with the warnings that a woman from the Old World shared with Cohen’s
grandmother. According to this women “[t]he first thing men do in America […] is cut their
beards and the first thing the women do is to leave off their wigs” (Cohen 79). This prophecy
did indeed become true in many cases. While Cohen remembers these warnings in shock, she
later attempts to make her mother wear her natural hair, which clearly depicts the rapid change
of her views during her early time in America. Cohen’s self-awareness with regard to her own
change is exemplified by the following statement: “[a]nd I as I was growing to know and
understand […] was losing my intense nationalism” (242). This statement signifies that Cohen
was aware of her own process of Americanization which distanced her from the Jewish faith.

With regard to her thoughts on changing her mother’s appearance, Cohen also depicts the self-
awareness of her own changed opinion: “remembering my own first shock, I decided to go
slowly and be careful not to hurt her feelings” (153). Cohen shows that her own immigration
experience had already shaped her personality at this point. Thus, she approaches this
undertaking with caution, waiting for a moment when “the children were playing in the yard,
and we two were alone in the house” (Cohen 153). She does not push her mother towards
putting off her kerchief in front of others; instead she waits for a quiet moment and “asked her
playfully to take off her kerchief […], just to see how it would look” (153). Thus, she portrays
herself as a considerate young woman who knows how difficult it can be to leave Old World
habits behind. Cohen describes that her mother “consented reluctantly” (153) to this proposal;
this depicts the mixed feelings her mother experiences in this instant. On the one hand, her
mother might want to adjust as well; on the other hand, she respects her ties to Judaism. This
moment seems to mark a significant experience, as Cohen states that her mother “had never
before in her married life had her hair uncovered before any one” (153), which emphasizes the
magnitude of this act.

This magnitude also facilitates the understanding of Rose Cohen’s mother’s reaction. Despite
the fact that “[s]he glanced at herself, [and] admitted frankly that it looked well” (Cohen 153),
she also “began hastily to put on her kerchief as if she feared being frivolous too long” (153).
This reaction indicates the struggle that many immigrants experience in a new country. The
need and wish to adjust oppose the will to retain certain habits and features of the Old World
and of one’s religious and ethnic ties. Rose Cohen, assuming the role of the more Americanized
daughter, tries to push her mother towards the direction of Americanization, which also points
to common generational differences. She mentions the following: “I drew from my year of
experience and observation and pointed out that wives so often looked so much older because
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they were more old-fashioned, that the husbands were often ashamed to go out with them”
(153). Her reasoning highlights arguments that do not necessarily stand in relation to Judaism;
yet her mother asks if that’s why she “too must sin” (154) like her husband, which implies that
the rules established by her religion are on her mind. Rose Cohen’s mother still needs to
“unlearn” the habits and rules of the Old World; this constitutes a process which marked an
important part of Jewish life in America (Uffen 23-24).

The following example from Rose Cohen’s book shows that this process of unlearning does
often not require a lot of time, as Rose Cohen’s father welcomes the change in her mother’s
appearance. In fact, this sinful and more Americanized man also contributes to Rose Cohen’s
mother’s physical Americanization. Ironically, marriage is why Rose Cohen’s mother had to
cover her hair in the first place, as this was the rule among Orthodox Judaism (Uffen 23-24;
Schreier 28). Showing one’s hair was considered a privilege for the husband (Scheier 28).
However, the reaction when Rose Cohen’s father sees his wife without a kerchief is positive,
as he calls out “Already you are becoming an American lady!” (Cohen 154), to which she
replies “as you see, […] I am not staying far behind” (154). With this simple, yet religiously
opposed act of removing her wig, Rose Cohen’s mother takes a decisive step towards the
Americanization of her physical appearance and, coincidentally, she steps away from her
Jewish origins. This step is encouraged by her daughter and her husband who have been in
America for a longer time. Such encouragement, as instigated by more Americanized family
members and friends, constitutes a common theme in Jewish American works that address the
manifold issues of immigration and assimilation.

Similarly, Mary Antin’s father, assuming the role of the leading immigrant, tries to accelerate
the Americanization process of his family. As aforementioned, he instructs Mary and her family
upon their arrival in order not to look like greenhorns (Antin 89). However, he also addressed
matters of Americanization prior to Mary Antin’s arrival in the New World. Antin chooses to
describe the following: “[m]y father, in his ambition to make Americans of us, was rather
headlong and strenuous in his methods” (116). Regarding religion, tradition and physical
appearance, “he wrote boldly [to her mother] that progressive Jews in America did not spend
their days in praying; and he urged her to leave her wig in Polotzk, as a first step of progress”
(Antin 116). Despite “the Jewish faith in her [that] was deeply rooted” (116), she took his
opinion seriously, albeit showing a bit of reluctance which links her experience to Rose Cohen’s
mother’s attitude towards this change. After all, she “fulfill[ed] her duty to her husband when
she took his hint, and set out upon her journey in her own hair” (116). Mary Antin shows that
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the process of Americanization does not necessarily wait for the immigrants to arrive in
America (Schreier 26).4

As the preceding paragraphs have shown, visible attributes are often altered quite fast upon
one’s arrival in a new country, as they help deceive the more Americanized observers.
However, some of these attributes are linked to religious tradition. Nevertheless, many Jews
decided to alter their physical appearance. This is also described by Mary Antin, who states that
her father was “convinced that to hold to the outward forms of orthodox Judaism was to be
hampered in the race for Americanization” (117). Even though other groups of immigrants
experienced similar changes, altering one’s appearance marked a more important experience
for Jews. Not only did wigs and beards function as markers of Jewishness, as explained above,
clothes were also directly linked to religious customs. For example, the Sabbath required the
wearing of distinct clothes. Other holidays also functioned as a reason for the purchase of new
items of clothing. Overall, there were certain rules within Judaism which had to be adhered to
in terms of dress (Schreier 26-27). It is not surprising then, that the change of physical
appearance is also described in Mary Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s works, for clothes took up an
important place in the Jewish tradition in general.

Depending on one’s bond with the Old World, women’s opinions regarding the change of
physical appearance differed significantly. While some women only adjusted reluctantly, others
were attracted to the clothes they encountered in America. For example, in a book entitled
Jewish Grandmothers, which was edited by Kramer and Masur, one female immigrant states
the following: “[w]e used to love the American people, to copy them. I wanted to be an
American very much. I saw people who looked better and dressed better and I wanted to be like
[them]” (qtd. in Hyman 99). Thus, removing one’s wig or kerchief, which was worn in its place,
only marked a step toward other fashion-related items such as specific styles of footwear
(Schreier 29). This attitude depicts the positivity of some immigrants regarding the change of
one’s physical appearance, which was particularly predominant in the lives of garment industry
employees (Schreier 26; Hyman 99). One can conclude that physical change was welcomed by
some, whereas others first had to unlearn the customs of the Old World.

4
On this note, it shall be stated that Judaism in Eastern Europe in general was undergoing changes at this
point. Mary Antin also describes this phenomenon on page 116.
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3.5.3. Food and the Sabbath

In contrast to the rather rapid change of one’s physical appearance, traditions of Judaism
remained practiced in private and within Jewish communities, since they did not necessarily
impede one’s progress of Americanization. One’s perception of the Old World determined
one’s attitude toward change, for “[r]eligion was a definitive link with the Old World” (Uffen
4). Thus, depending on the personal picture of one’s former life, immigrants either tried to retain
certain rites or sought to abandon them. As argued by Uffen, women were more likely to
maintain parts of the Jewish faith, for they connected the Old World to the positive memories
of their family and origins, rather than relating it to “poverty and oppression and lack of
freedom” (4), which were commonly attributed to the male perception. Thus, they were usually
the ones to preserve some Jewish customs such as praying and lighting the candles on Sabbath
(Uffen 4). To what extent these traditions changed in Mary Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s case is
examined in the following paragraphs.

Besides the changed physical appearance of Rose Cohen’s father upon her arrival in the United
States, Cohen notices other changes with regard to religious tradition. One Saturday, soon after
her arrival, her father and her “went out into the street” (Cohen 78). As a treat, Cohen’s father
offers her to choose a piece of fruit at a stand. Despite it being Saturday, or Sabbath, which
marks a day of strict rest for Jews (Sarna and Dalin 139), Cohen does not regard this as a
problem at first. She explains that “[t]here was nothing strange to me in that. At home when we
sold fruit, as we did sometimes during the summer, Jewish people came on Saturday to eat
apples or pears for which they paid the following week” (Cohen 78). At this point, she does not
seem to have realized that certain religious traditions cannot be maintained in a diverse
community. Thus, upon her father’s act of payment, she describes her feelings in the following
way: “I felt the blood rush to my face. I stood staring at him for a moment” (78). In her state of
shock, she even “dropped the melon on the pavement and ran” (78). Cohen does not draw
attention to the chosen fruit, she highlights the significance of religious tradition instead. In this
moment, Rose Cohen seems to struggle enormously, for she describes it vividly and
dramatically. This offers a glimpse of the magnitude of influence which Jewish traditions had
on Rose Cohen’s life in the Old World. This included living life after the Talmudic law and the
synagogue, which marked the daily rhythm of life (Motley 4). This influence was also carried
to the New World by her as part of her mindset and was yet to change at this point.

The incident that occurs shortly after her arrival also depicts the clash of cultures that
immigrants often experience in the new country. As a newly-arrived immigrant Cohen seems
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to feel closer to the life and habits of the Old World despite being in the New World. Thus, she
transfers her own initial reaction and shock to her family who are actually still in the Russian
Empire. Cohen wonders about how her grandmother “would feel if she knew” (79) and above
all, she asks “how would they [her family] all feel” (79). Essentially, this extract shows how
UnAmerican Rose Cohen is shortly after her arrival.

It is this instant which triggers the remembrance of certain warnings. Besides the warning
regarding the change of one’s physical appearance, Cohen claims to recall the following: “you
who will not break a thread on the Sabbath now, will eat swine in America” (79). Cohen still
questions the likelihood of her own change, which she later embraces; yet, in retrospective, she
also remarks that “[a]fter what I had just seen nothing seemed impossible” (Cohen 79). Despite
this statement, Cohen then makes a promise to herself; she says that “No, I shall not eat swine,
indeed I shall not” (80). On the one hand, Cohen depicts a certain sense of self-awareness with
regard to the possibility of change. On the other hand, she points to her strong ties to the Old
World by making bold statements about the impossibilities of the future. In general, the
portrayal of her attitude highlights the inner struggle that she seems to feel during her first
months and years in the new country.

Mary Antin also describes an encounter with certain warnings and statements about America
and the journey there prior to her boarding, since many acquaintances in the Old World start to
ask questions about their migration once they know that Mary Antin’s family is to depart soon.
One of the questions which she mentions concerns food and reads: “[w]as it sure that we could
get koscher food on the ship?” (Antin 79). This early concern emphasizes the importance of
food within Jewish culture. While Antin does not elaborate on these questions, it is known that
kosher food was offered on main transportation lines (Gartner 4). It is upon her arrival in
America that Antin encounters strange new kinds of food (Antin 89); yet she does not address
breaking any rules regarding food until visiting her teacher. Antin recalls that “[i]it was Miss
Dillingham, she who helped me in so many ways, who unconsciously put me to an early test”
(118). This test, albeit an unintended one, included eating “a kind of meat that was strange”
(Antin 118). Despite viewing herself as “the liberal, the free” (118) by this time, Mary Antin
“was afraid to touch it” (118). The feeling of fear which Antin expresses here is notable, since
her process of Americanization seems particularly smooth in comparison to the experience of
many other Jews. Thus, it demonstrates the potential impact of religion on one’s mindset, for
Antin depicts that “kashrut, the dietary laws” (Siegel 28) were still present in her consciousness.

85
Even after having changed significantly, Antin is afraid of eating something that is forbidden
to Jews. This highlights the power that religion exercises over many even after gaining distance
from said religion. While some might succumb to this fear and adhere to the rules of Judaism,
Antin finds it surprising and exclaims the following: “I had a terrible moment of surprise,
mortification, self-contempt; but I helped myself to a slice of ham” (118). Antin’s rebellious
act shows that the Americanized self in her dominates her Jewishness in this instant. Since she
prides herself for being Americanized to a large extent, it seems understandable that she
becomes angry at herself and her ties to the Old World: “I was furious with myself for my
weakness. I to be afraid of a pink piece of pig’s flesh, who had defied at least two religions in
defence of free thought” (118). Despite letting the American in her win the upper hand in this
case, Antin points to an influence which the Jewish faith still has on her Americanized self on
occasion.

Overall, food—or more specifically, the act of eating certain meat—seems to constitute one of
the aspects of Judaism that is maintained for a longer period than, for example, one’s physical
appearance. Rose Cohen is not a newcomer anymore when she stays in a hospital for the first
time. Yet she claims that “[t]he meat and juice which the doctor ordered I had not touched
because it was ‘trafe’ (meaning that the cattle had not been killed in accordance with the Jewish
law)” (Cohen 236). In this case, Cohen does not assume the role of the more Americanized
immigrant; she does not ignore the rules of kashrut. Instead, she tells the following: “mother
told me that I must eat everything and get strong” (Cohen 236). Despite her mother’s later
immigration, she is the one who decides to ignore the existent rules; in order to justify her
approach, she argues that the food functions as medication and commands Rose to “take it as
you would like medicine” (236). In retrospective, Cohen notes that this was the moment when
she “had to break the vow” (236) of not eating meat, which is addressed above. This situation
exemplifies that Cohen still finds herself in the midst of the process of Americanization with
regard to relatively simple aspects such as food. It also suggests that certain principles can be
overridden by the importance of health and the lack of kosher options.

While Cohen describes her experience of eating forbidden food as a necessity, Antin depicts it
as a rebellious act. The anger Antin experiences when she discovers that she is still Jewish to
some extent, does not reflect Cohen’s portrayal of her feelings. Cohen seems to not feel
anything in particular due to the change of events; she describes the occasion neutrally, as can
be deduced from the extracts above. In contrast, Antin expresses her anger, for she “was
furious” (118). Antin even becomes “determined to eat more of it than anybody at the table”
86
(118). This conscious act demonstrates the differences in Antin’s and Cohen’s representation,
as well as it highlights the aggressiveness and the force with which Antin tries to become more
American and shed her ties to Judaism. Despite being the more Americanized of the
autobiographers in question, Antin’s experience with “unjewish meat” (Antin 118) seems to be
more significant, whereas Cohen simply appears to glide along in this process of
Americanization that deals with food. It seems to be the case that the reason for the diversity of
this representation lies in Antin’s belief that she is already Americanized, hence experiencing
frustration. She feels shocked when she realizes that she still has to change in order to complete
this process which is desired by her. This suggests that even people such as Mary Antin, whose
assimilation process is rather fast and successful, are still tied to the rules of the Old World.
Despite her seemingly slow progress in America, Cohen’s character appears to be in accordance
with both sides of her character, namely the Jewish and the American side.

Both food and religion are referred to together in another chapter in Rose Cohen’s work. In this
case, the issue at hand does not concern forbidden food. Nevertheless, these two aspects are
linked, since a certain distance from the Jewish faith is required in order to receive food. During
a time of economic depression, Cohen’s siblings return from school and state “that any child in
the class who would say a prayer received a slice of bread and honey” (Cohen 160). With regard
to this statement, Cohen remarks that “[t]he small school which the children attended was, I
think, connected with a church or a missionary society” (160). Thus, the prayer is Christian.
Due to the economic circumstances and the lack of food, Rose Cohen’s mother succumbs to
the pressure after some time and “ask[s] them without looking at them, whether bread and honey
was still given to the children at school” (Cohen 162). In the need to cater for her family, she
gives in and tells the children “[y]ou can bow your heads and pray” (162). Not only does this
accentuate the seriousness of the situation during economic depression, it also shows that Jews
did not sacrifice their children’s health for the sake of the religious laws that they usually
adhered to.

In order to demonstrate the religious change which contributed to Antin’s and Cohen’s
experience of becoming American one has to discuss the role of the Sabbath. As can be deduced
from Cohen’s early experience of touching the coin on Sabbath (Cohen 78), this day with all
its traditions marks an extremely important day within Judaism (Sarna and Dalin 139; Schreier
26-27). However, in American society, which was predominantly Christian, Sunday was
usually considered the rest day. Consequently, Jews had two options. Either they would decide
to work a day less in order to retain an integral part of their faith, or they would distance
87
themselves further from their belief due to the need of making money on six days every week
(Sarna and Dalin 239). Due to this and other sacrifices which Jews often had to make, many
traditions “ha[ve] been abandoned, wholly or in part, by most American Jews” (Baum 16).
Nevertheless, some considered it important to honor this day. As Rose Cohen describes at an
advanced point of her autobiography: “[o]n Saturday Fan and I did not work at all because it
was our Sabbath. Now I would have been willing to work for my religious scruples were gone.
But my parents would on no conditions consent to it so I was off both days and Fan too” (282).
This demonstrates another generational difference, for Rose Cohen seems to have adjusted well
to the predominant customs in America, whereas her parents still try to retain certain aspects of
their faith regardless of the habits in the New World.

Rose Cohen’s family also continued to celebrate the Sabbath in America. Cohen describes the
celebration of this special day during economic depression in America as follows: “[a]fter I got
the children to play quietly in a corner I began to prepare for the Sabbath. There was little to
prepare as there was no cooking to do” (167). Yet again, the mention of cooking draws attention
to the importance of food within Judaism; in addition, it becomes clear that the economic
struggle does not impede the core celebration of this day. Despite financial issues, Cohen tries
to adhere to certain practices for this day: “I polished our candlesticks which we had bought
here, and scrubbed the floor in the large room and then began to wash up the floor in the sick
room” (167). All of this was done in honor of this special day of celebration. Regardless of the
precarious economic situation, Cohen retains certain traditions in celebration of this day. For
example, Cohen states “I bought two candles for a cent. I had a cent for candles, for we could
go without bread but not without consecrating candles” (167). Cohen’s depiction exemplifies
that certain Jewish traditions were not broken easily; instead they were taken seriously in
difficult times. Despite the progress of assimilation, this suggests that it is possible to retain
certain traditions of one’s belief. Essentially, Cohen implies that one has to decide whether or
not to discard distinct aspects. This is based on a very personal choice, for even in difficult
times, Rose Cohen and her family deem it important to maintain a connection to their faith.

Mary Antin also draws on the importance of this day. However, she does so in the chapters that
describe the life in the Old World, whereas she does not discuss the celebrations of the Sabbath
at length once she has arrived in America.5 Thus, it can be concluded that in her personal
Americanized life, Antin does not want this specific day to play a significant role. Her father

5
For a detailed account regarding the Sabbath as depicted by Mary Antin, please consult chapter I and II of her
autobiography.
88
seems to share a similar opinion, yet he “did not attempt to touch the fundamentals of her
[Antin’s mother’s] faith” (Antin 117). This demonstrates that Jews shared varying opinions
regarding their faith upon arrival. Yet, as is common within Judaism, the father is still portrayed
as the head of the family, which can be deduced from the following example: “[h]e allowed her
to keep a Jewish kitchen as long as she pleased, but he did not want us children to refuse
invitations to the table of our Gentile neighbors” (117). This statement implies that Mary
Antin’s father possessed the power to rule over his wife. Additionally, it highlights the role of
food within Judaism. In the private home of the family, adhering to the rules regarding Jewish
food was allowed. Outside of one’s home, however, Antin’s father sought to promote the
Americanization of his children, which lessened the importance of religious matters such as the
Sabbath. This points to a sense of ambivalence which marked the lives of many immigrants
during this time, hence finding mention in Antin’s and Cohen’s works.

In contrast to Mary Antin’s father, her mother sought to retain certain aspects of her faith.
Antin’s father would buy her “mother a ticket for the synagogue” (Antin 117) and she would
“light the consecrated candles” (117) when it was time to celebrate the Sabbath. This supports
the notion that women were more prone to adhering to the rites and customs of the Jewish faith
in America (Uffen 4). Despite retaining some remaining traditions of Judaism, Mary Antin’s
mother also had to watch “the children […] [being] sent to school” (Antin 117) on this holy
day. Similarly, economy did not take rest on this day, thus Mary Antin’s father “kept the store
open until Sunday morning” (117). These examples demonstrate the clash of cultures which
Jews often experienced. On the one hand, Americanization took place and certain features were
difficult to maintain. On the other hand, many Jews latched onto some religious aspects in order
to retain their faith to some extent. As Antin herself sums up this balancing act, her “mother
might believe and worship as she pleased, up to the point where her orthodoxy began to interfere
with the American progress of the family” (117). This clearly shows where the priorities of the
Antin family lay, which also facilitates the understanding of Mary Antin’s smooth process of
becoming American.

Overall, this depiction seems to exemplify Mary Antin’s attitude towards retaining the
traditions of Judaism and her religious faith. Her represented attitude demands consideration
since it also has an impact on her opinion regarding religion and the lacking display thereof
once she finds herself in America. As a young schoolgirl, Antin admits to “not believ[ing] in
God” (114). This simply statement distances her from her Jewish background, thus creating
more space for her American self. However, she describes that her colleagues at school “express
89
their disapproval of [her]” (Antin 114), which suggests that religion can have a space in
America. She describes her own journey “from praying and fasting and Psalm-singing, to
extreme impiety” (114) as a course that came naturally to her during her time in the Russian
Empire, for Antin claims that she ignored religious books once she encountered “profane
literature” (Antin 114). In addition, the idea of America “fully occupied” (114) her mind, which
meant more to her than “going to Heaven” (114). This explains the small amount of religious
references with regard to her own self in her autobiography. Without believing in god, it seems
unnecessary to refer to one’s religious background and its traditions. Bearing this in mind, it
also seems less surprising that Mary Antin does not depict the experience of a shock upon her
arrival in America, for she had already distanced herself from Judaism in the Old World
according to her own account. In her autobiography, she states that to her “there was no God,
and there was no sin” (114); yet she has been identified as a Jewish writer ever since. Regardless
of this categorization, she portrays herself as a “Freethinker” (114), declining her colleague’s
questions whether she was a Jew (114).

Despite her shock and references to religious tradition, Rose Cohen admits to having religious
concerns as well. She recalls the following: “often too I thought over religious questions that I
heard or which came up in my mind” (Cohen 197). In contrast to Mary Antin, she does not
consider herself as an unbeliever, claiming that “I was still religious but I could no longer accept
my religion without question” (197). This indicates that Rose Cohen’s American experience
changes her perception of religion as well, for she is no longer bound to the limits of an Eastern
European Jewish society and learns more about the world and other religious beliefs. Yet, Rose
Cohen refrains from depicting herself as ready to shed her belief like Mary Antin seemingly
did as a child. Instead, Cohen remarks “these questions perplexed me and I felt guilty that they
should come up at all and tried to put them away from my mind” (197-198). This shows that
Rose Cohen does not readily leave her religious past behind. Despite becoming more educated
and questioning, she seeks to retain her belief, albeit in an altered form.

Cohen addresses the matter of the Sabbath from a personal view. After having spent a
considerable amount of time in America, she admits that she “was no longer pious” (Cohen
256). Nonetheless she tries to “observe [some, if] very few of the rites” and speaks of “some
[…] laws that I could not break. To obey them seemed bred in the bone” (256). This suggets
that Cohen wanted to show that certain religious behavior constituted a part of her life, despite
its taking place in America. This also concerns tradition in relation to the rules of Sabbath:
“[a]nd to touch fire on the Sabbath I could not bear. Then, too, besides, when I was leaving for
90
this place of service [where she had to light fire on this day] mother begged me not to break the
Sabbath” (256). This accentuates the religious attitude of Cohen’s family and distinguishes her
representation from Antin’s depiction. Even later, when Cohen seems to become more and more
Americanized and “would have been willing to work [on Saturday] for my religious scruples
were gone” (282), her parents did not allow it, hence emphasizing their religious attitude, which
naturally influenced the life of the whole family.

3.5.4. Generational Differences

Another incident which highlights the religious importance in her family concerns Rose
Cohen’s love interests; this aspect ties in with generational differences. When Rose Cohen
meets a former Jew who has turned to a different faith “there was all the difference in the world”
(Cohen 293) to her parents, since they could not let their daughter marry “a Jew who forsook
his own religion, his own people” (293). Yet again, this demonstrates the importance of Judaism
in Cohen’s family, which Rose Cohen emphasizes consciously. She states that, according to her
parents, “he who forsook Judaism for another religion belonged nowhere” (293); an association
with such as man would bring disgrace over the family. Thus, Cohen’s parents tried to prevent
a bond with this person. Instead, they wanted to find a Jewish partner for Rose Cohen. As Cohen
describes, they “began to consult matchmakers. […] Wherever I went to visit now I was sure
to find a young man, and the relative or friend acting as matchmaker” (302), which underlines
her parents’ Jewishness, for the tradition of matchmaking is common within Judaism.

In contrast to her parents who try to adhere to the rules of the Old World, Cohen describes her
state of emotions as “bewildered” (294). She cannot comprehend her parents’ attitude at this
point and states that “break[ing] friendship because his [the suitor’s] ideas happened to be
different seemed narrow-minded” (Cohen 294). Not only does this exemplify that Cohen has
distanced herself from the rules of the Old World, it shows that her parents have not achieved
it to the same extent. By stating that her “[f]ather as of old, wanted me to submit to him in the
old custom” (294), the reader gets an insight into her self-awareness of this generational
difference, for her father’s ideas were indeed part of “the old custom” (294). Mary Antin
addresses the same generational issue and even mentions a “price that all of us paid for this
disorganization of our family life” (117). She links the reasons for this price to the issue of “the
first generation cling[ing] to the traditions of the Old World, while the second generation leads
the life of the New” (117), which appears to be a rather common phenomenon. Essentially,
Mary Antin sums up what Rose Cohen experiences with regard to her love interest. Strictly

91
speaking, neither Mary Antin nor Rose Cohen were part of the second generation; however, the
fact that they immigrated as children distinguished their immigration and Americanization
experience from their parents, as well as it influenced their decisions on how to portray this
experience.

Thus, one additional aspect with regard to the change of tradition can be addressed as a general
phenomenon. Since children usually adapted to the Americanized ways at a faster pace;
generational disputes occurred frequently. Many Jewish parents feared “that they were
witnessing the erosion of Jewish culture and a serious dislocation of patriarchal family patterns”
(Schreier 30), which resulted in a variety of conflicts in many families. Immigrants who arrived
in their childhood or teenage years “would constitute a transitional generation, a generation
steeped in the ways of the shtetl but young and malleable enough to move easily between two
cultural worlds” (Glenn 49). As such, this marked their biggest advantage regarding
acculturation and assimilation, for their minds had not yet become entirely used to the customs
of the Old World; thus they had to unlearn fewer features that were considered normal in the
Old World, but not welcome in the new. Consequently, it can be argued that the age factor
contributed to their experience of becoming American.

Nevertheless, it is undeniable that immigrating parents also adjusted to some extent. The
transformation with regard to the Jewish faith is summarized by Mary Antin; she states that her
mother “has dropped the husk and retained the kernel of Judaism” (Antin 116). This statement
entails the notion that Antin’s mother remains a firm believer, but it is a modified belief. As
aforementioned, Mary Antin’s mother had to give up covering her hair in America and adjusted
to “the same day of rest as her Gentile neighbors” (116). Nonetheless, she adheres to the
importance of the Day of Atonement, on which “her soul is stirred as of old, and she needs must
join in the Ancient service” (116). This passage summarizes the preceding paragraphs, for it
exemplifies how some Jewish practices dwindled rapidly, while others, if desired, could be
retained for some time. The variety regarding the strength of one’s belief and the degree of
one’s immersion into American culture also led to different concessions of a kind, as some
immigrants were ready to relinquish more aspects of their tradition than others. Besides the
notion that experiences with regard to religious observance varied, it is also important to note
that both Mary Antin and Rose Cohen sought to carefully portray their attitude towards religion
in order to support the overall depiction of their Americanization experience.

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Conclusion

As the paper at hand shows, there are numerous paths which lead to becoming (more) American;
how these experiences are portrayed differs as well. Mary Antin and Rose Cohen immigrated
to the United States around the same time and age; they came from similar Jewish backgrounds
in the Russian Empire. Yet, as this paper depicts, their paths of Americanization, as well as the
focus of the representations thereof, differ due to distinct circumstances and the desire to portray
this experience in a specific way. However, it can be concluded that both experiences of
becoming American were shaped by formal education, organizations, language, as well as the
loss of one’s Jewish first name and the change of religious observance. All of these aspects find
frequent mention in both texts, even if they are often depicted differently. This suggests that
one’s background often constitutes the factors which play a role in one’s transformation towards
an Americanized self.

Simultaneously, this experience is also shaped by an increasing distance to one’s Eastern

European Jewish origin, which is highlighted in both works, albeit to a different degree. The
same aspects which allow immigrants to blend in in a new country possess the power to distance
them from their ethnic backgrounds, religious observance and cultural heritage. The extent to
which one allows this to happen, and how one decides to portray it, depends on a personal
choice. Likewise, becoming American is grounded on a personal desire (Grunwald 18). Yet, as
this paper demonstrates, different paths to reach—or rather to come closer to this goal exist. It
can be concluded that some immigrants were disadvantaged and had to overcome more
hardships on their path than Mary Antin, whose process of immigration appears to function as
the prime example of a smooth Americanization experience. This is how Antin chose to portray
her own development in America, whereas Rose Cohen decided to draw attention to certain
aspects in a different light. Not only does every immigrant experience the process of becoming
American in a unique way, immigrant writers also seek to portray this experience with a
particular goal in mind.

Therefore, autobiographies are not, as commonly believed, truthful and complete accounts of a
life. Autobiographical texts are always modified and fictionalized, while simultaneously
omitting events which took place in the autobiographer’s life. Nonetheless, it cannot be denied
that autobiographical texts offer an insight into what living might have been like in a certain
era. The author’s power to craft a narrative of his own life often provides more information
about a certain time and the author than a truthful account. Rather than retelling events, the
author can portray his/her own self as the writer would like to be remembered. While Mary
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Antin’s and Rose Cohen’s works differ, as they consciously highlight, add or omit certain
aspects, both autobiographies provide a good overview of many challenges and aspects that
immigrants to America faced at the turn of the twentieth century, including the importance of
education, the influence of organizations, the struggle with language and the gradual loss of
religious tradition. Therefore, they constitute an important element of discussion in the field of
Eastern European Jewish immigrants’ experience of becoming American.

94
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