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times since February 27, 2008
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Behar, Ruth [with photographs by Humberto Mayol]. (2007).
An Island Called Home: Returning to Jewish Cuba. New
Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press
Pp. ix + 288 $30 ISBN 978-0-8135-4189-1
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Reviewed by Melisa Cahnmann-Taylor
University of Georgia
February 27, 2008
Feminism, post-structuralism, critical theory, arts-based
inquiry and other postmodern approaches to educational research
have long recognized the deeply relational and subjective nature
of teaching and learning inquiry. While qualitative research
methods that aspire to "objective science" have been
theoretically challenged for over two decades, there are still
too few examples of empirical work that illustrate what
exemplary, alternative approaches to educational inquiry might
be. Ruth Behar's latest book, An Island Called Home: Returning
to Jewish Cuba, merges ethnography with creative nonfiction,
memoir, photography, narrative, and poetry, creating a book that
illuminates what is possible when empiricism is infused with the
artful and auto-ethnographic. The text is infused with lessons
for educational researchers about "Jews who were learning how to
be Jews" (p. 15), and the nature of cultural identity as
something inherited as well as acquired through educational
study, community practice, and historical and political
circumstance.
In signature Behar style, this latest book starts with the
personal as entry to the larger social context of her study.
"You're going to Cuba again? What did you lose in
Cuba?/Otra vez a Cuba? Qué se perdió en
Cuba?", Behar quotes her Grandmother/Baba in Miami
who's native tongue was Yiddish but who communicated in Spanish
with her granddaughter. The Yiddish-lilted Spanish of an elder
"gusano", (a word Behar explains means both "duffle
bag" and "worm," a term Castro used for all who left after the
1959 Cuban Revolution), introduces the genesis of this
ethnographic memoir, a search for the Jewish Cuban home Behar's
family had left behind. Behar's intimate prose is accompanied by
her own family photographs as well as new photos taken by
companion artist, Humberto Mayol. The book's accessible and
lyrical language, family album photos of Behar's past as well as
finely crafted portraits of Behar's study-participants all invite
the reader to pack a bag for a journey that is recognizable to
many educational ethnographers, one where the researcher "[runs]
away from home in order to run toward home" (p. 3).
Behar says she took advantage of the metaphoric power of
anthropology to be both a "passport" and a "shield" to study and
learn about a cultural community that was at once familiar and
foreign. The book's prose is full of poetic language such as
this excerpt below:
Even though I didn't want to turn my native land into a
fieldsite, anthropology became my passport; anthropology became
my magic carpet. Only as an anthropologist could I return to Cuba
two and three times a year to do ongoing research. Anthropology
also became my shield. Nobody could criticize me for breaking
with the Cuban exile position which held that no Cuban should set
foot again in Cuba until Fidel Castro was gone (p.
18).

Ruth Behar
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Behar's book illuminates how autoethnography can be a gateway
to research that is at once personally meaningful as well as
universally revelatory for larger audiences. For example, the
book's first chapter braids Behar's own family history of exile
with a carefully selected history of Jews in Cuba more generally,
beginning with the conversos of 1492, converts to
Catholicism during the Spanish Inquisition. Through narrating
the "intermarriage" struggles of her own parents who hailed from
Sephardic-Jewish (mostly from Spain and Turkey) and
Ashkenazic-Jewish (mostly from Poland) backgrounds, she paints a
portrait of a largely divided Jewish Cuba in the early
20th century whose divisions are still apparent today
among the few remaining Jews on the Island.
The book wrestles with who now defines themselves as Jewish in
Cuba, how, and why in a context where most of what Behar
describes as "pure Jews" (those born of both Jewish parents) had
left the island by 1965. Cuban Jews today are mostly converts,
the children or grandchildren of Jewish men in a culture where
Jewish identity is passed on matrilineally. Moving through
abandoned Jewish cemeteries, renewed synagogues, converted homes,
Janucá/Hanukkah parties attended by Fidel Castro, and kosher
butcher shops among other contexts where Cuban Jews are to be
found, each chapter highlights individuals in Cuba living their
version of a Jewish life. Descriptions of participants'
language, attire, and perspectives are so clear and
conversational, one feels as if one accompanied Behar into the
living rooms and sanctuaries of participants' lives. Each
chapter touches upon the contradictions between numbers of Cuban
Jews drawn back to their faith and the mass exodus of Cuban Jews
to the United States, Israel and elsewhere. Upon learning from a
participant that yet another Jew and his mother were leaving,
Behar lyrically reflects:
He's one of the pillars of the community. But that's how it
is in Cuba. From one day to the next, a pillar crumbles,
disappears. And yet miraculously there are always Jews left in
Cuba to keep the whole edifice from toppling (p.
90).
Behar critically situates her own work within the recent
"avalanche of attention" Cuban Jews have received by "a
never-ending stream of curious anthropologists, tourists,
missionaries, and well-wishers" (p. 31). She points to the
ironies experienced in the Cuban Jewish community where some
members may only attend synagogue to receive special food
products, free meals, t-shirts, shoes and other goods. The book
raises questions about Jewish identity as a commodity in Cuba,
where claims to Jewish ancestry and subsequent participation in
Jewish spiritual life may be inspired by a free chicken dinner or
a "crazy outpouring of emotion and charity" (p. 185) described in
Chapter 27 when visiting American Jews pull off pearl earrings
and take money from their pockets for one Jewish Cuban family.
Many Jews in Cuba resurrect documents such as the Ketubah
marriage certificate because it can translate into improved
living circumstances in Cuba or an exit visa to Israel.
What draws Cuban Jews back to their faith on the island may
ironically lead to the demise of the small community that's left
as Jewish renewal leads to increased departure from the island.
However, despite repeated reminders of how fragile this
community's survival is, Behar's book is a testament to decades
and centuries of Jewish survival. Using anaphora in Chapter 23
Behar poetically repeats "They are the keepers," listing the many
symbols of Jewish identity that have withstood the test of time
because those who've remained behind have cared for them, e.g.
mezuzahs, Torahs, Kiddush cups, and menorahs. One paragraph
which resembles a line of prose-poetry reads "They are the
keepers of old family prayer books that have turned brown with
age and smell like rain."
Behar distinguishes her approach to interviews and participant
observation from other recent work as a series of
"tangos—improvised conversations that led to surprising
revelations and exchanges" (p. 34). Indeed, Behar's approach is
unique—one that clearly identifies the researcher as part
of, as well as distanced from, the research. Repeatedly, Behar
reminds of us her own internal struggles regarding her economic
status and freedoms to come and go relative to the Cuban Jews she
interviews. She uses the Yiddish word "schnorrer" (one who
thrives on the generosity of others) to describe herself and the
field (p. 137). She takes the reader along with her as she
accepts a meal from a poor Jewish family (Chapter 8) or when she
leads a wealthy Jewish American tour group around Havana eating
in the best restaurants and staying in fine hotels built for
wealthy outsiders (Chapters 9 and 37).
Perhaps Behar protests her privilege too much, leading the
reader to wonder about options the educational anthropologist has
in the field to simultaneously document participants' lived
experiences and improve participants' lives at the same time.
Behar doesn't provide any answers to discomfort in the field,
though she does provide humorous insight in the midst of a
bare-chested male (pp. 122-3) or when she's offered an authentic
poster of Fidel that she considers sneaking back home in her
suitcase and selling it on eBay (p. 181).
This book models what is possible when disciplinary boundaries
are blurred and a researcher creates a portrait that illuminates
the community under study and the hyphenated space between
researcher-researched. The use of personal and professional
photography and scholarly and lyrical prose, create a study that
simultaneously informs as it engages. This book would be useful
for courses in the anthropology of education, spirituality and
education, Latino and Jewish studies in education and a host of
other courses where students and professors wish to read an
insightful and beautifully written ethnographic memoir about Jews
and Jewish education in Cuba.

Melisa Cahnmann-Taylor
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About the Reviewer
Melisa Cahnmann-Taylor, Associate Professor in Language and
Literacy Education at the University of Georgia, addresses
bilingualism, second language acquisition, arts-based approaches
to inquiry and multicultural education in her research. Her
articles have appeared in journals such as Educational
Researcher, Language Arts, Critical Inquiry in Language
Studies, and Anthropology and Education Quarterly; her
poems have appeared in American Poetry Review, Barrow Street,
Quarterly West, and elsewhere. She is co-editor of the book,
Arts-Based Research in Education: Foundations for Practice
(Routledge). She is the poetry judge for Anthropology &
Humanism's annual contest.
Copyright is retained by the first or sole author,
who grants right of first publication to the Education Review.
Editors: Gene V Glass, Kate Corby, Gustavo Fischman
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