I began learning Yiddish in the eighth grade to pass notes during Mr. G’s history class. I’m not sure what we wanted to talk about, but a few kids in the class had gotten caught passing notes and we thought it would be hilarious if we learned a different language to pass notes in. That way, if someone got a hold of the note, they wouldn’t be able to understand our nerdy jokes.
We spent around a month or so learning the Yiddish characters. We made a book we called בוך אין יידיש [bikh in Yiddish] or “Book in Yiddish”. We wrote in a dialect we dubbed Yinglish which was made up of a few Yiddish words, but was mostly English words written in Yiddish characters.
~∞~
Yiddish was born in the beginning of the tenth century. The language, for as long as it has been around, has been the language of Jewish people. Yiddish, after all, directly translated, is Jewish which is what my Great Grandmother always called the language when she spoke it with other people. Originally, Yiddish was a language spoken solely by Jewish women because they needed a way to communicate.
Women weren’t allowed to learn the Torah like the male members of their villages, and therefore were also barred from learning Hebrew, thus, Hebrew became reserved for the men of Jewish communities and Yiddish became a language for women. At this time, Yiddish was primarily used to tell stories and history, mothers kept the language and their history alive by passing the tales from their past down to the new generation of women.
~∞~
A Classic Yiddish Joke
“So, there’s this man on the public bus. He’s been on the bus for quite a few stops at this point and he hasn’t shut up. For many, many minutes, he has been saying the same thing over and over again.
‘אוי ווי, איך בין אזוי דארשטיק’ [oy vey, bin ikh azoy dorshtik], in English, ‘Oy vey, I am so thirsty!’ Now, the man, he’s saying this over and over again. Finally, one bus passenger who has been on for many stops with this man takes his water bottle and gives it to the thirsty passenger.
‘א גרויסע דאנק’ [a groyse dank] says the man, thanking the other passenger graciously. The man unscrews the cap of the bottle and hurriedly, and messily, drinks all of the water.
~∞~
As women told their stories and histories the narratives began to shift and became more similar to cautionary tales and moral lessons – באבע-מעשה – fairy tales or old-wives tales. Slowly, as language borders shifted and Yiddish became a universal language, the stories became a cultural commonality transcending political borders. And tales such as the Dybbuk – דיבוק – became favorites among the global Jewish community. They were told over and over again, in hundreds of different dialects: the classic German-Hebrew dialect, Hungarian-German-Hebrew dialect, the Polish-German-Hebrew dialect, the Russian-Polish-German-Hebrew dialect. Slowly Yiddish spread across eastern Europe, stories came with it, and jokes, and soon Yiddish, the female language of the Jewish people solely made of stories, became a word-wide phenomenon. That was until the twentieth century when Jewish people became targeted by the largest super powers in the world in the form of the pogroms and the Holocaust.
~∞~
We decided to refer to one another in code names, that way we could talk to each other in code–within our code. I was רייז [Raaz] because I like raspberries and my last name is Berry. I only learned later that ‘raaz’ is actually the Yiddish word for ‘rice’. One of my friends was רישַקא [Rishka] because she liked the sound of it. And because she thought that it was a nickname for Sarah which is her actual name. It’s not. Rishka is actually the Yiddish name for Rebbeca. My third friend was less creative, she was קַלאַרא [Klara] because he name was Clara and she could be boring at times.
We sat in front of Mr. G’s desk. So, inevitably one day he caught one of our notes. He reached across his desk from where he was lecturing and snatched the small black notebook in which we were passing back and forth.
He opened up to the page we were writing on.
~∞~
In 1941 Jewish people were rounded up by the Germans and their allies. People from all across Europe were gathered into one place and forced to survive together. Only a few things brought them together. Their fear, their need to keep living, their religion, and their common language. Yiddish became a code of sorts, despite the various dialects, the common Hebrew origins of the language allowed people to
speak with ease. In addition, none of the SS could understand what the prisoners said when they spoke in their common tongue. And so, refusing to die, they used Yiddish to plan escapes, revolts, to continue to practice their religion, ultimately, they used Yiddish to tell stories of survival and garner hope.
It was during this time of struggle that Yiddish expanded. All of the dialects combined, creating a larger language which held roots in all places, creating a stronger global culture which could not be defined by one aspect. And which could not be destroyed, in fact, within perilous times, it only grew stronger.
~∞~
“The man who gave the passenger the water was thankful, as were all the passengers on the bus, for some peace and quiet. But all too quickly the man began moaning again.
‘אוי ווי, איך בין געווען אזוי דארשטיק’ [oy vey, bin ikh geven azoy dorshtik], or in English, “oy vey, I was so thirsty!”
‘קווטשר, ’ [Kvetcher] mutters the man who was now without water. ׳איך בין אזוי דארשטיק׳ [ikh bin itst azoy doshtik]”
But this joke can be told in other ways.
~∞~
Sixty Seven percent of all European Jews died during the Holocaust. Few were lucky to get out, but no one truly escaped. My family lost most of our relatives. Only three of us made it out. My Great Grandmother and her parents, all of whom predominantly spoke Yiddish.
~∞~
Another way.
I was at a competitive, education focused, summer camp called Great Jewish Books at Hampshire College. Here, I told my Great Grandmother’s water joke and immediately it was told to me over and over again in slightly different manners. The extremely talented and slightly famous sixteen-year old klezmer player told me about how the New Yorker Jews say the man was on a subway. The Hasidic Jew from San Francisco said his community tells it as a bunch of people in a trolley. The extreme zionist from England staged the thirsty man on a double decker bus.
~∞~
My Great Grandmother did not like to think about her past or the people she had lost. Instead she liked to tell jokes. She was always happy and lighthearted. Her favorite motto was “If you smile on the world, the world will smile back on you.” Whenever I told her about an accomplishment of mine such as making a soccer team, or winning my NHD National competition, she would tell me she was Kvelling – קוועל – She would say that her heart felt like it was swelling out of her chest. When we said goodbye she would always say “גאזאנטען דיין פאפיק” – God bless your bellybutton. Her favorite joke was always about a man on a bus asking for water. I think she first told it to me because I was always thirsty and asked for water every time we got in a car.
~∞~
The Yiddish culture has supposedly been in a declining state ever since the Holocaust. Jewish communities are smaller, and people were forced to relocate to areas where only speaking Yiddish was an extreme disadvantage. Now, in 2026, the people who grew up speaking Yiddish as a first language are dying out.
~∞~
It had been a while since our teacher had caught a note, and he was rightfully excited. As was I. He opened the notebook and stared blankly at the page for a few seconds.
All Mr. G saw was–
רייז; גאזאןטען דיין פאפיק
He shook his head and laughed. Then handed us the book before going back to teaching.
Mission accomplished.
My friends stopped learning after that.
But I never did.
Cora is a junior in high school at Baxter Academy for Technology and Science in Portland, Maine. She has never been published before, but she spends much of her time writing. She enjoys poetry as well as prose, has a special interest in all things historical, and is only slightly obsessed with J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings.