When you’re the only Jewish student in a school with deep German roots, things can feel different. But for most of my early years at the German International School New York (GISNY), that difference didn’t matter much. I was just another kid among many, enjoying school, friends, and childhood. But everything changed in fourth grade, and it taught me powerful lessons about identity, respect, and how people can grow and change.
A Hurtful Incident in Fourth Grade
In fourth grade, two classmates made swastikas out of building blocks. Soon after, I saw “Adolf Hitler” scribbled on my math notebook, and I started being called “Jewey” in class. As a 9-year-old, I knew it was wrong, even though I couldn’t fully explain why. It felt worse than simple teasing—it felt hateful.
Things became clear when the head of the lower school cried upon hearing what had happened. That moment showed me that the school was serious about doing the right thing. It wasn’t about ignoring the problem or pretending it didn’t happen. It was about facing it head-on.
How the School Responded
GISNY didn’t just punish the boys. Instead, the school focused on teaching. The boys had regular meetings with the head of school, where they learned about the Holocaust and why their actions were so hurtful. They also learned how to treat people with respect. In the end, they wrote me an apology letter in German. I’ve kept it ever since.
This experience helped me see that the school wanted to respond with care and thoughtfulness—not just react out of fear or pressure.
Understanding the German Roots of the School
Even though GISNY is in New York, its heart is German. Most of the students and teachers come from Germany, and the school follows a German-style curriculum. Starting in middle school, students learn about Germany’s past, including the Holocaust. This effort is called Vergangenheitsbewältigung, which means coming to terms with the past.
It’s not easy to teach young kids about such heavy topics, but GISNY tries. And I think that’s important.
My Family’s Jewish Background
My family has always been proudly Jewish. My mom is from Vienna, and my grandfather had to hide from the Nazis during World War II. My dad’s side of the family lives in Israel, and my cousins have served in the army. Judaism is a big part of who we are.
So why did we end up at a German school? For my parents, speaking German was important. They wanted me and my brothers to speak our mother’s language fluently, and GISNY gave us that chance. We’ve been there since preschool, riding the bus every day from Upper Manhattan to the suburbs.
Finding Balance Between Two Worlds
Growing up, I noticed that my German-speaking world and my Jewish identity didn’t always go together easily. I realized that it was my job to make peace between them. I didn’t have to choose one over the other—I could be both.
During Christmas, I joined in on the fun. I sold Christmas ornaments, ate chocolate from an Advent calendar, and played Christmas songs in the school band. But when a class trip was scheduled during Yom Kippur, my family spoke up. The school listened and moved the trip so I could observe the holiday. That showed me that my voice mattered.
Feeling Safe as a Jewish Student Today
Since the October 7 attacks in Israel, it hasn’t always felt safe to be openly Jewish in public. But at my school, I still wear my Magen David (Star of David) necklace proudly. I don’t hide who I am there. That sense of safety is partly because of how the school has included us over the years, but also because I’ve taken ownership of my identity.
Six years after that painful incident in fourth grade, I now see just how much has changed. Being a Jewish girl in a German school used to be something people noticed. Now, it’s just normal—and that’s a very good thing.
My journey at GISNY hasn’t always been easy, but it’s been meaningful. I’ve learned that when people are willing to listen, learn, and grow, even difficult moments can lead to understanding. My school didn’t hide from its past or ignore the present—it faced both with care. And because of that, I’ve been able to grow, too. My Jewish identity is not something I have to defend or hide. It’s something I’ve learned to live with proudly, even in a place where it once felt out of place. And that’s what truly matters.
