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4.2.12 WC: 191694 My mother was summoned to my high school so often that some of the students thought she worked in the principal’s office. One day, after I had done something especially egregious—I threw a “dummy” dressed like me off the roof of the building, after threatening to “jump off the roof’ when my teacher threw me out of the class'*—the principal demanded of my mother “what are we going to do with your son?” Without any hesitation my mother responded, “I don’t know what you’re going to do, but as for me, I’m going to keep him.” The principal threatened to send me to another school called “R.J.J.,” which we always said, stood for “Reformatory for Jewish Juveniles,” because some of the tougher kids—the disciplinary “problems”—went there. (The initials really stood for “Rabbi Jacob Joseph’’). Ultimately I was suspended for a few weeks on the ground of “lack of respect” and spent them at the local library and museum, where I learned considerably more than I was learning in my classes. It was not my first suspension, nor would it be my last. Nor would it be my first encounter with my principal, Rabbi Zuroff, who in my senior year, when he was finally resigned to my remaining in the school until graduation, called me to his office for some career advice. This is what he told me: “You have a good mouth, but not much of a ‘Yiddisher Kup,’” which means ‘Jewish head’ or brain, as distinguished from a Goyisher (non-Jewish) Kup”—a slightly bigoted concept suggesting that Jews are endowed with special mental qualities or capacities.'* He continued: “You should do something where you use your mouth, not your brains.” I asked him what he would suggest. He replied: “You should become either a lawyer, or a Conservative Rabbi.” (He was an Orthodox Rabbi who held his Conservative colleagues in utter contempt.) To make sure the latter part of his advice was followed, he urged Yeshiva University, which trained Orthodox Rabbis, to reject me, which it did. My classmates as well valued my verbal over my intellectual skills. The first draft of my high school yearbook description said that I have “a mouth of Webster, but a head of clay.” (My mother made them change it!) Rabbi Zuroff’s career advice was actually better than the choices given to me by the New York City Department of Employment, to which my mother turned in desperation. After reviewing my high school record, and administering an aptitude test, the counselor told my mother that I could aspire to work in an advertising firm or a “funeral parlor.” My mother asked whether I could be a lawyer, to which the counselor replied, “Mrs. Dershowitz, I’m afraid you have to go to college to be a lawyer, and your boy just isn’t college material.” Many years later, following a talk I gave at a temple in Los Angeles, a man about my age came up to me and asked whether I was “related to a guy I went to high school with named Avi Dershowitz.” “Avi” was the Hebrew nick-name by which I was known all through high school. I began to use my “real” name, Alan, when I started Brooklyn College, though my old friends and family still call me Avi. I decided to put the questioner on, so I said, “yeah, yeah, we are related.” ” For a fuller account of this episode, see The Best Defense at ff__ 8 The classic Jewish joke reflecting this xenophelia is about Moishe who says to his wife, “It’s too hard to be a Jew. I’m converting to Christianity.” He goes to church, converts and goes home to sleep. Next morning his wife wakes up and sees Moishe wearing his Talit (Jewish prayer shawl) while davening (praying in Hebrew). “What are you doing Moishe,” she asks, “You’re a Christian.” Moishe replies, “I forgot! Goyisher Kup.” 30 HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_017117