My Life History
37 fall 201 2 | 5773
yxcrTv
Esther Shechter was born in Medzhibozh, Ukraine, in 1867. She arrived in
Canada in 1905, living first in Montreal and then, from 1910 until her death
in 1953, in Winnipeg. Her first, unhappy marriage ended in divorce while her
second, happy marriage was cut short by her husband’s death. In Europe she
worked as a printer, which was not unusual for a Jewish woman. She was active
in Winnipeg’s extraordinary Yiddish cultural life, taking leadership roles in the
Peretz Shule and working tirelessly on literary and cultural endeavors. Writing
was a creative outlet for her rather than a profession. She wrote travel reports
and opinion pieces for the Winnipeg newspaper Dos Yidishe vort and was particularly proud of the memoir she wrote for the YIVO autobiography contest in
193. In 1951, well into her eighties, she published this memoir together with her
newspaper articles in book form with the financial support of the local Yiddishspeaking community.
Shechter’s voice is that of a strong-minded, argumentative woman. She displays frank ambivalence toward her children and offers no pretense or justification for her mercenary motives in her first marriage. She outlines her efforts
to gain an education and be self-supporting and speaks of the forces arrayed
against her. In political matters she hews to her conscience, sometimes against
her husband’s wishes. These revealing glimpses of women’s private and public
struggles give her memoir a freshness and charm that set it apart. — Faith Jones
My Life
History
iup gyfhagd hs
icgk i˙n
t
I
ignuegdP†rT zsbut um zht 1884 ih
n 1884 a Kazyonwx˙uu ign†b iyhn çr rgb†hzTe T
er (official) rabbi named Weiss .gzgd iehsyxk†nTs iyhn dbTkeb˙t iht
ic†v zun kygya rgsgh zT wsTkxur iht
came to our town,
/rgbhcTr gb†hzTe T
in order to fulfill
the law in Russia ogs /ghkhnTp rgs yhn ybgeTc lhz c†v lht
yTvgd ihua ic†v rgyfgy hhuum xrgbhcTr
that every town
chkum rgc† /uugHe iht wghzTbnhd hs yehsbggd
had to have one
yfgrbhuuu ihhe yTvgd yhb ic†v hhz x†uu ogs
Kazyoner rabbi1. I
grghhz yhn ignue yzungd hhz ic†v wuugHe iht
got to know the
icgdgd rhn ic†v hhz /azhcazgn ihhe irgykg
family. The rabbi’s
two daughters had k†z lht yhhrdgdum lhn iut xghmegk gyxhznut
/ger†aueT ;hut igbrgk igb†e lhz
already graduated
from gymnasium in
Kiev. But because they didn’t have the right to live in Kiev (as the
residency permit for Jews in big cities was only valid while they
were students), they had to come with their parents to Mezhbizh.
They gave me free lessons and prepared me to be able to study
midwifery.
by Esther Shechter, translated by Faith Jones
I L LU S T R AT i o ns B Y G ary k e ll e y
Pakn Treger 38
My Life History
I was nineteen then and had started reading Russian literature. My
girlfriends, the rabbi’s daughters, convinced me to go to Odessa. They
assured me that I would be able to study for free with the “Enlightenment Society,”2 the local popular education movement in Ukraine.
This is the plan I made: since my mother had rich relatives there,
they would support me, and since studying was also going to be free,
the only question was how to come up with my travel expenses. I
said nothing to my mother about this plan. Instead, I made myself appear sick, and the town doctor told my mother I needed to spend two
months at the seaside in Odessa.
In the month of June 1886, I went to Odessa. The Kazyoner rabbi, Mr.
Weiss, gave me a letter of introduction to his colleagues, the lawyers Mr.
Margolis and Dr. Tsatskin, and to a lot of other important people whose
names I no longer remember. And so I went to Odessa full of hope.
I went first to an uncle of my father’s, Nathan Horowitz, on Tsigayner Street (later Malorosiske Street). My great-uncle was no millionaire himself. He owned a coal warehouse. He was also for the
Haskalah. I told him my plan, that I wanted to advance my studies,
and mentioned my rich relative Abraham Greenberg. He advised me to
write a letter to my relative in my mother’s name.
My rich relative lived then on Nikolayevski Boulevard. When I got
there a doorman was standing in front. I gave him the letter. A few
minutes later he returned to let me in. I told my relative why I had
come to Odessa and showed him my letters of recommendation that
Mr. Weiss, the rabbi in Mezhbizh, had written his colleagues. This contributed greatly to my success. When I told Abraham Greenberg I was
staying on Tsigayner Street, he invited me to stay with him, and soon
it was all arranged. I spent six months in Odessa studying with fine
teachers. I wrote home saying I didn’t know when I would come back.
r†h 19 iguugd ykT iTs ihc lht
gahxur hs ybghhkgd ihua c†v iut
ogs wxbhsb˙rp gb˙n /ruyTrgyhk
lhn ic†v wrgsbhe xrgbhcTr
/xgs† ihhe ir†p um ysgrgdum
†uuyxgayac†I hs lhn yguu yr†s
wyxhznut igbrgk "ghbgayaguux†rP
/yrgfhzrTp lhn hhz ic†v
rgs ir†uugd ikgpgd zht rhn
rgyun i˙n huu huzT :iTkP rgehz†s
hhz ikguu wohçure gf˙r yr†s y†v
yguu lhz igbrgk um iut wimhya lhn
hs r†b yc˙kc wiyx†e yhb lhut lhn
-,u†muv ;hut ign yngb Uuu :gdTrp
i˙n lht c†v iTkP i˙n idguu ?lrsv
lhz c†v lht /ykhhmrgs yhb rgyun
iup r†ye†s rgs iut ebTre yfTngd
i˙n yd†zgd y†v kygya rgzsbut
hhuum ;hut ir†p ;rTs lht zT wrgyun
/oh rgxgs† iht is†c lhz ohasj
w1886 r†h ogbup whbuh asuj ogbht
rgs /xgs† ihhe ir†pgdP† lht ihc
rhn y†v wx˙uu 'v rgbhcTr gb†hzTe
hs widgk†e gb˙z um uuhrc icgdgd
(iyTe†uusT) ghbgrguu†P gbazTxhrP
um iut wihemTm r"s iut xhk†drTn 'v
wiyhhefgkbgzrgP grgsbT k†m T l†b
wyhb rgs˙k ebgsgd lht igngb xgnguu
xgs† ihhe ignuegdb† lht ihc huzT iut
/igdbubgp†v gxhurd yhn
...the great, wide world had already called to me.
xrgy†p i˙n um lht ihc ir†prTp
rgygp-rgykg i˙n / (gexhx†r†kTn hs rgygPa) xTd rgb˙dhm rgs ;hut w.huu†r†v i,b wkeb† iT
sHh T iguugd lhut zht rg /ikhue iup sTkex T iykTvgd y†v rg /rhçd rgxhurd ihhe iguugd yhb ihhkT zht
lhut oht iut wigbrgk i˙n imgzr†p khuu lht zT wiTkP i˙n idguu ykhhmrgs oht c†v lht /khFån T
T ic˙rab† oht k†z lht yvmggd lhn y†v rg /drgcbhrd knvrçT wçure if˙r i˙n idguu yb†nrgs
/ign†b xrgyun i˙n iht uuhrc
ignuegd ihvT ihc lht iguu /rTuukuc-hexuug˙k†ehb ;hut ybhuuugd yxk†nTs y†v çure rgf˙r i˙n
ignubgd yhb y†v xg /uuhrc i˙n icgdgdP† oht c†v lht iut rhy rgs ˙c rTmhhuua T igbTyagd zht
chkum ykhhmrgs çure i˙n c†v lht /ignueumb˙rT ychukrgs rhn iut ignuegdehrum zht rg huu dbTk
rgzsbut x†uu uuhrc-ghmTsbgn†egr gb˙n izhuuTc lhut oht iut xgs† ihhe ignuegd ihc lht x†uu
i˙n um yrg˙yagd˙c khp y†v x†s /idgk†e gb˙z um icgdgd rhn y†v wx˙uu 'v wazhcazgn iup rgbhcTr
rg y†v wxTd rgb˙dhm rgs ;hut hhya lht zT ykhhmrgs lhut drgcbhrd knvrçT c†v lht /dk†prgs
/ir†uugd yrhazbTrT rhn rTp ihua zht .kT Uuu wohhvT oht um ignue ixhhvgd rhn
ohhvT /yfhrrgybut lhn ic†v xrgrgk gyud /y˙m ohasj xegz xgs† iht iguugdP† huzT ihc lht
///ignueehrum kguu lht iguu yhb xhhuu lht zT wichragd lht c†v
39 fall 201 2 | 5773
yxcrTv
icgk i˙n iup gyfhagd hs
wrçj T rgb˙n :gyfhagd TzT ip†krTp lhz azhcazgn iht zht k˙uurgs
k†n gkT ydgkp rg iut wdbuskhc um idhumgd lhut y†v xg ignguu wrgzhhkd van
yhb yr†s oht ic†v irgykg gb˙z ,njn wrhn†yhaz ihhe ehrum iut ihv ir†p
zht iut rTk†s yrgsbuv hhuum hhz ˙c ygçbdgdxhurT y†v wiykTvxhut yk†uugd
yxk†nTs zht kygya iht /gehrgnT ihhe ir†p um .gbgrd irgcht ip†kybT
(azhcazgn iht ipurgd lhn ign y†v huzT) xgmk†y r≤xt zT wdbTke T xhurT
iht r†ye†s T ir†uugd rgygPa zht rgzhhkd van /ivan yhn ip†kybT zht
/(gehsgcgk hs iahuum rgn yhb yb˙v) gdTeha
yrTbgdP† c†v lht zT wxgs† iht ohçure hs um ichragd y†v gc†c i˙n
k†z lht khuu hz zT iut wirhrue lhz ;rTs lht zT ehsbd†z wrgyun i˙n
/azhcazgn ihhe ignueehrum yzungd lhz lht c†v huzT /ohhvT ignueehrum
///i˙rT ykguu rgyhhrc rgs iht idhumgd rgc† ihua y†v lhn
gfkguu wybduh gybgdhkgybht iT rghhz yTvgd azhcazgn ihua y†v 1886 iht
igdbuy˙m khp [igbupgd lhz ic†v] xg Uuu egy†hkchc T ygsbhrdgd y†v
rgaHgrcgv rgs yhn ehy˙mbhht /aHgrcgv iut ahxur ;hut ikTbruaz iut
/ruyTrgyhk gahxur gkTdgknut hs ybghhkgd lhut ign y†v ruyTrgyhk
c†v lht /azhcazgn iht ˙rgeurs T ybpggd lhut lhz y†v y˙m rgbgh iht
iht ygcrTgd y†v x†uu exk†s†P-.gbgnTe iup iTnbdbuh T yhn ybgeTc lhz
yhn ir†p yk†uugd lht yk†uu hm ydgrpgd rhn ˙c y†v rg iut w˙rgeurs rgs
/gehrgnT ihhe oht
i˙n iut rgyun i˙n huu huzT :P†e iht ebTsgd T ikTpgdb˙rT rhn zht †s
wic†v vbu,j k†z lht ikhuu gc†c
iTkP rgyud T iguugd rapt yk†uu
yhn iut wic†v vbu,j geTy k†z lht
ik†z isb kcur yrgsbuv gfgkyg hs
/gehrgnT ihhe ir†pP† l†brgs rhn
erTya rghhz iguugd zht vjPan i˙n
c†v lht rgc† wlusha ogs idge
vbu,j c†v iut yrhpgdxhut xb˙n
iTnbdbuh iehz†s ogs yhn yTvgd
rgygPa c†v lht /ikhuu rghhz idge
ogs rTp yk†mTc rg˙y rghhz
/yhra iyk˙tgdrgcht
Meanwhile there was an incident in Mezhbizh. My friend
Moyshe Glazer, who also wanted an education and who used
to travel back and forth to Zhitomir because his parents did not
want to support him there, stole
two hundred dollars from them
and escaped over the border to
go to America. And a rumor
went around that Esther Toltses
(which is what they called me in
Mezhbizh) had run away with
Moyshe. Moyshe Glazer later became a doctor in Chicago. (He is
no longer alive.)
My grandmother wrote to the
relatives in Odessa that I had
fooled my mother by saying I
needed to take a cure and that
she wanted me to come home.
So I had to return to Mezhbizh.
But the great, wide world had
already called to me.
By 1886 young intellectuals in
Mezhbizh had founded a library
where you could find Russian
and Hebrew newspapers and
journals. In addition to Hebrew, people also read illegal Russian literature. At that time
a print shop opened in Mezhbizh. I got to know a young man from Kamenetz-Podolsk
who worked at the print shop, and he asked me if I would like to go with him to America.
A thought occurred to me: since my mother and grandmother wanted me to get married, it might be a good idea to actually get married, and with several hundred rubles
as a dowry we could then go to America. My family was strongly against the match,
but I got my way and married this young man against their wishes. I paid dearly for
this hasty step.
Pakn Treger 40
My Life History
In 1887, at twenty years of age, I was married. Right after the wedding we went to Kamenetz-Podolsk. My husband said he wanted to say good-bye to his family—especially his
elderly grandfather and his sister. His father had been in America for years without ever
writing to them. As a result, his grandfather would not permit my husband to leave, and
we were stuck in Kamenetz-Podolsk.
Since you could study midwifery in Kamenetz-Podolsk, I decided to further my studies. When I had left Mezhbizh, my friends, and especially the rabbi Mr. Weiss, urged
me to continue my education. Mr. Weiss also gave me a letter of recommendation to
a rabbi in Kamenetz-Podolsk, Mr. Blushteyn, and his sister, Madame Frenk, who was
herself a midwife. There I suffered the first disappointment of my married life: my husband wouldn’t sign my application for the midwifery course. He didn’t need a working
wife, he said.
ogbht w1887 iht
And his family wouldn’t let
wr†h 20 iup rgykg
him go to America. My husband
vbu,j lht c†v
couldn’t find work in Kamenetzl†b skTc /yTvgd
Podolsk, and the five hundred
igb˙z vbu,j rgs
rubles of my dowry were little by
ihhe ir†pgdP† rhn
little worn away. Meanwhile
/exk†s†P-.gbgnTe
I had a baby. I couldn’t write
y†v iTn i˙n
home about my troubles, bekhuu rg zT yd†zgd
cause my family was against
yhn igbgdgzgd lhz
the marriage to begin with,
yhn — vjPan i˙z
and I had only wanted to get
T iut ishhz iykT iT
married in order to get to America.
rg rgc† wgehrgnT iht iguugd ir†h gdbTk rTp ihua zht rgy†p i˙z /rgyxguua
yz†kgd yhb rgy˙uu iTn i˙n y†v gshhz rgs /ichragd yhb k†n ihhe ohhvT y†v
/exk†s†P-.gbgnTe iht ichkcrTp igb˙z rhn iut ir†p
wger†aueT ;hut igbrgk yb†egd ign y†v exk†s†P-.gbgnTe iht huu huzT
ir†pgdP† ihc lht iguu /irhsuya i˙n rgy˙uu imgzr†p um †s yebgsgd lht c†v
lhn wx˙uu 'v wrgbhcTr rgs xrgsbuzTc iut wsb˙rp gb˙n ic†v azhcazgn iup
icgdgdyhn lhut rhn y†v rgymgk rgs /igbrgk i˙n imgzr†p k†z lht iy†rgd
wihhyaukc 'v wexk†s†P-.gbgnTe iht rgbhcTr oum uuhrc-ghmTsbgn†egr T
gyrHusTrd T iguugd ihhkT zht gfkguu webgrp oTsTn wrgyxguua T rgb˙z iut
iyTrhhvrTp i˙n iht dbuahuybT gyarg hs iyhkgd lht c†v †s /ger†aueT
yk†uugd yhb ixrue-ger†aueT ;hut ghmTehkPT i˙n rhn y†v iTn i˙n — icgk
iut — yd†zgd rg y†v w"gergbhsrTp T c˙uu ihhe yhb ;rTs rgI /ic˙rargybut
/gehrgnT ihhe ir†p yz†kgd yhb oht y†v vjPan i˙z
hs iut idhre yb†egd yhb gkgya ihhe exk†s†P-.gbgnTe iht y†v iTn i˙n
ohhvT /sbhe T ignuegd zht k˙uurgs /igburgdxhut lgkxhc um igb˙z isb kcur 500
vkhj≤fk zht vjPan i˙n k˙uu wic˙ra yb†egd yhb ,urm gb˙n idguu lht c†v
ir†p igb†e um hsF r†b ic†v vbu,j yk†uugd c†v lht iut wlusha ogs idge iguugd
///gehrgnT ihhe
41
fall 201 2 | 5773
yxcrTv
icgk i˙n iup gyfhagd hs
A series of wanderings beihhe yarg um :igdburgsbTuu iup vrsx T igdbTpgdb† iTs rhn rTp lhz y†v xg
gan: first to Odessa, then to
iut ghcTrTxgc ihhe yr†s iup wghbrgcud rgexgayhruuTy iht l†brgs wxgs†
Tavrichesky Province, from
rhn wrgehsvrm T iguugd zht icgkbgnTzum rgzsbut /xgs† ihhe ehrum l†brgs
whence to Bessarabia, and
rgsbhe /çrgn yhn jrzhn — iykguu grgsbuzTc hhuum ///igbTyarTp yhb lhz ic†v
then back to Odessa. Our life
///iaybUuugdnut ignuegd igb˙z
together was full of strife: we
rgs ;hut wxgs† iht ˙rgeurs T yTvgd ihhkT ihua lht c†v 1900 iht
weren’t compatible, like two
wgykTh wuug˙k†ehb iht ir†pnur† khp ydgkp iTn i˙n /xTd-Texuugkgahr
separate worlds, east and west.
hs iguugd ihc lht iut wigdbukgyaTc l†b wygya grgsbT iut ghr†yTPuugh
Babies we didn’t want kept
x†uu igdbukgyaTc igdbgrc yp† ydgkp rg /˙rgeurs rgs iup ihrgykTuurTp
coming.
yhb ahbgchukrgs ihhe hhz ;hut c†v lht iut ruzbgm hs ihhdfrus yzungd ic†v
By 1900 I had my own print
T i† ieurs igdbukgyaTc hs k†z lht irgs†p ydgkp iTn i˙n /idhre yb†egd
shop in Odessa, on RishelevsrTp iprTuur†p rhn ydgkp rg iut wyd†zybT lhz c†v lht x†uu wahbgchukrgs
ka Street. My husband would
///yhb yahbr†d c†v lht gfkguu iup wiyxhsbuc hs xhurT ;kgv lht x†uu
travel extensively around NikoT zht rgfgrcrTp rgahyhk†P T i˙z um zT wirhybgnudrT oht yhn dgkp lht
layev, Yalta, Yevpatoriya, and
rgfgrcrTp rgkgbhnhre T — suçF
other cities, soliciting orders, ...we weren’t compatible,
T iut vPrj T rgc† zht i˙z um
and I ran the shop. He would
like two separate worlds, zht xg iieuthz†ykshohyggsd yy†hbvyregbuP///sgbsTbTyaa
often bring back jobs that had
east and west.
to pass through the censor, but
um ignuegd zsbut ˙c ogs rgcht
I couldn’t get a permit to print
/ig˙rgdhre iut ig˙rgebTm gyp†
them. My husband would demand I print them without a permit,
iut sb˙rp gyud yTvgd c†v lht
which I refused to do; he would complain that I was willing to help
xgnguu wazhcazgn iup y˙kxsbTk
the Bundists, who never paid.
rgsbhe gehbhzyxUuuTc wgybgdhkgybht
This was because I had a friend from Mezhbizh whose smart,
rgahsbuc rgs um ydbTkTc ic†v
thoughtful children were in the Bund, and I often lent a hand to
k†n khp hhz dgkp lht iut whhyrTP
their illegal print shop by buying type for them through my legal tyrgkTdgknut rghhz iht ipkgvxhurT
pographic shop. My husband couldn’t stand this, and he would comyphra hhz rTp iphue huu w˙rgeurs
plain bitterly about it. I would fight back, saying a political outlaw
/ghpTrd†Phy i˙n iup ign†b iphut
has honor—but to be a simple criminal is a disgrace and a scandal.
is˙k yk†uugd yhb iTn i˙n y†v x†s
He couldn’t see my point and we thrust and parried on this topic
irhyxgy†rP erTya ydgkp rg iut
over and over.
/ogs idge
It came to the point where we had to get a divorce.
rhn zT wumrgs ignuegd zht xg
///iyd yzungd lhz ic†v
Faith Jones is the head of Reference and Information Services at New Westminster Public Library and adjunct professor at the School of Library, Archival,
and Information Studies, UBC.
1
A Kazyoner rabbi had to be able to read Russian and pass a government test. This
excluded many Hasidic rabbis as they didn’t study secular subjects such as Russian.
2
These were general, not Jewish, organizations and the language of instruc-
tion was Ukrainian. Shechter uses the Ukrainian term for them, Obshtshestvo
prosveshtshenie.
Pakn Treger 42