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Myself

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My name is Levana/Whitney depending on who you are.I was born in the Arkhangelsk province of Russia in the village of Solza. I would have been born here in the states but my mother was visiting her biological family for Chanukah. She was only seven months pregnant so my father thought it would be okay to vist. The festivities hadn't started yet and they wouldn't for another four days. My brother Shimri/William recorded my birth with the camera he got for Christmas from his father (don't ask.) and when I watched it later before my Bat Mitzvah you can here my Uncle crying out in Russian: Ona takaya blednaya! If you don't speak Russian that means She is so pale. I was and still am the palest person I know. My sister had red hair and she was still tanner then me. I may be only 7% Scandinavian but it seems to have strongly influenced my looks. Maybe my skin just was soaking up the color of the landscape. I mean hey it was December.Never mind I'm rambling again. After that my life was uneventful until I was two and a half,that's when my brother Refael/Logan was born. William was ten, Chava/Kayla just turned nine three days before. My younger brother and I are still polar opposites. Kayla was everyones dream older sister,my mom called her Mommellah which means little mother in Yiddish. William taught me everything I know about science and after Kayla's death in May of 2001 I clutched to my brother as my lifeline. Then one morning I woke up and he wasn't there. I went downstairs to look for him and all I found was my mom cutting carrots with a ferocious chop. I asked her where William went and she told me with the same sad,distracted look she had used when she and dad got divorced and when Kayla died.
"He is dead to us." Her voice was so flat and emotionless it was frightening. I later found out that he had ran away from home to live with his girlfriend in Wisconsin. I haven't seen him in person for seven years now. I still write him and his girlfriend turned wife and their two daughters. The reason William was disowned was because his wife,Gina,was a Christian. It doesn't seem fair to me though because William and Kayla's dad was Baptist and Logan and my' dad was Lutheran. What gives? Is it because she still was passing down the traditions because she was a women. I don't know. That loss of older siblings left me feeling cold and empty I went from being an adored little sister straight into a job as a spineless,overly-sensitive oldest child who spent every night feeling the silence and loneliness of her room and her house. Mom worked late and I was often stuck with one of those call Mrs.Brown if you need anything lists,in short I hate the memories of first grade. When I was ten years old I started going to a camp in Eveleth called camp Warren. My first cabin was a disaster. People thought I was stuck up but I was really just shy. The next few years were better. My next memory was of my beautiful mother getting a job transfer to a suburb of Boston called Pierce. My first day of school I sat behind a boy with blond hair and he looked at me and then my star of David necklace. I was forced to move to the other side of the room by the boy,and sit with the other Jewish kids. I didn't realize then that it was wrong and it seemed so minor that when our grage door was graffitied later that year with swastikas it was a complete broad side. That day as I was helping Mom wash the door a girl with long tangly brown hair and curious green eyes walked up to us,grabbed a sponge and started scrubbing with us. She said that she had been sent over here by her mom to invite us to dinner. When we went over that night we found the girl and her veritable twin sitting on cushions around a coffee table ladend with food from everywhere you could imagine. I was amazed it smelled so delicious and the colors of everything where so rich. Then Logan had to ruin the moment by saying "Mamma, where are the chairs?" We stood there looking horrified at him when the girl's mother,who I later found out is named Faye, started laughing and gestured at us to sit. Unsurprisingly the cushions were more comfortable then our hard wooden chairs at home. Mom had us dress nicely. I normally lived in jeans and t-shirts but we were forced into the clothes we wore to the synagogue. I looked across the table at Faye and her mom. Faye was wearing bell bottom jeans and a loose whit shirt and her mom was wearing a long tie-dye maxi dress. I had the feeling that I should laugh at the awkwardness of the situation but I didn't. Thankfully Logan provided me the opportunity to laugh by eating a spoonful of wasabi because he thought it was guacamole.




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