advertisement

Immigrant experienced state-sponsored prejudice. He fears U.S. is heading toward it.

Racism, anti-Semitism and prejudice are not new to the United States or to the world. Sometimes, it is a group of people gathering in the streets. Sometimes it is reduced to a few people sitting in a basement trying to figure out their next steps to promote white supremacy. It becomes much more dangerous, however, when the ideas of supremacy are state-sponsored.

I've lived that experience in another country. Being born in the former Soviet Union, in the city of Kharkiv, Ukraine, I spent my early childhood in an environment of state-sponsored discrimination. I saw how minuscule the threshold is separating a small gathering of racists and a nation of state-sponsored prejudice, and I know we in America have to be careful not to cross it.

Being born in Soviet Ukraine meant that your religion was directly stated on your birth certificate. Since the Soviet Union was a self-proclaimed atheist nation, there were only two options given for the "religion" line - Russian or Jewish. As a practical matter, the Russian option meant Orthodox Christian, but the overriding implication was just that one was not Jewish. And, from the very beginning, someone labeled Jewish was instantly identified as an outsider, something different from the majority of the population.

This label appeared on one of the most important documents any Ukrainian citizen needed. In the Soviet Union, it was mandatory to show a birth certificate to get into every level of school, to get a job, to rent or own a home, to buy a car and for anything else significant in life. The identification as something different on that document gave those institutions license to reject you, especially when they knew there would be no repercussions from heads of state, the police or anyone else.

While being identified as Jewish did not always prohibit us from entering school or getting cars and homes, it also did not stop teachers, landlords and bosses from treating us differently.

One instance I remember from my childhood was being asked what religion I belonged to as I tried to enter a library. I was 6 years old, and while I didn't think much about it at that moment, as I look back on it now, I realize that it had a pretty significant impact on my circle of friends. Hatred and difference are not part of human nature. They are learned, be it from parents or institutions that you belong to. My friends noticed I was seen differently that day at the library and could have subconsciously changed their view of me.

I was fortunate enough to have friends who did not treat me differently, but many other people were not so lucky. I witnessed friendships get torn apart over one's heritage. If people start planting the seeds of hatred or difference in children early enough, they will think that way for the rest of their lives.

There are, of course, children who choose to go through radical transformations when they get older, but these are extremely rare.

As I was writing this essay, a "Freedom of Speech" rally was being held in Boston. Gathered there was a small group of "Freedom of Speech" protesters and many more counter-protesters. Just as in Charlottesville the weekend before, tempers flared and violence was incited. While violence does seem to come from both sides, in reality, it does not. The protesters have admitted to encouraging violence. The counter-protesters are trying to prevent the violence by outnumbering the white supremacists in hopes of intimidating them to disburse. If the White House would condemn this kind of behavior, the "Freedom of Speech" crusaders, the ones carrying Nazi flags, shouting "Jews will not replace us," would not feel so empowered, as if they are on the correct side of history.

This is a dangerous trajectory we are on, one I have seen as a kid, and again as an adult. I went back to Ukraine in 2005 for the first time since immigrating to the U.S. in 1992. I stayed with my great-aunt in an affluent neighborhood in Kiev.

The year 2005 seemed to be a turning point for Ukraine. The Orange Revolution, a series of protests and political gatherings, had just ended. It seemed like the young people of Ukraine were taking over and a change in Ukrainian politics was beginning. Protesters wanted someone in power who actually represented their interests. People were taking to the streets. They wanted to be included in the European Union and be more inclusive as a country.

I was told that by all accounts Ukraine had changed. I hoped it was true, though I wouldn't believe it without seeing it. Unfortunately, change doesn't happen overnight. It does not even happen over a couple of decades. As I walked around downtown Kiev on the way to Independence Square, there were still swastikas grafittied on the sides of buildings and on sidewalks to remind everyone that once prejudices are built into a state's identity, they linger with some people for decades, even after the state changes its official policies to repudiate them.

What happened in Charlottesville was the boiling point for race relations in our country. It truly is a small leap between Nazi flags considered freedom of speech and having your religion, class or creed being printed on your birth certificate and passport. That leap was made smaller still when a car ran over counter-protesters, injuring 19 people and killing one, and our president went on the air to say there was "violence on many sides."

It is imperative for a leader of any nation to denounce those types of behaviors.

Having grown up on stories from my grandparents, who had witnessed and fought in the Second World War, I find the similarities becoming more obvious between what happened then, a world away, and what is happening now, here in the United States. Having your family silence you from singing songs in Yiddish during a Jewish holiday for fear of being thrown out of the apartment and losing their lease is no different from seeing Jewish and African-American students afraid to walk freely on the campus of their school for fear that a white supremacist might cause them harm.

Acts of prejudice will always happen to some degree. People will fight on college campuses. People will disagree on what is covered under the protection of the First Amendment. Certain groups or sects won't be liked by others. But a line must be drawn at government involvement. We, as Americans, have lived under a government structure that attempts to respect every way of life. This can make it more difficult for us to recognize how important that line is.

I have lived where the government tolerates prejudice and does nothing to stop it. It is easier for someone like me to recognize when the line is being crossed.

• Vadim Shapiro, of Gurnee, immigrated to the United States with his family at the age of 8. He graduated from Vernon Hills High School in 2002 and now works for a research firm in North Chicago.

Vadim Shapiro
  Vadim Shapiro of Gurnee stands near Soviet Army medals won by his grandfather, Nathan Shapiro, in World War II. Vadim grew up in Ukraine until he was 8 years old and experienced official prejudice targeted toward Jewish citizens. Gilbert R. Boucher II/gboucher@dailyherald.com
Article Comments
Guidelines: Keep it civil and on topic; no profanity, vulgarity, slurs or personal attacks. People who harass others or joke about tragedies will be blocked. If a comment violates these standards or our terms of service, click the "flag" link in the lower-right corner of the comment box. To find our more, read our FAQ.