My political awakening probably started at the seder table.

Saying this makes me feel like such a lefty Jewish cliché, but here we are.

The Passover seder became a place to discuss modern day plagues, tell stories of midwives defying Pharoah, dream of liberation for all people everywhere, and drink Slivovitz (Lev and Zack taught me to take shots with the rubbing alcohol/plum brandy, which I will claim to this day was a radical rebellion against taste).

I guess Shabbat tables probably had something to do with it too, since the weekly familial gathering often included guests who debated with my parents about elections, international conflicts, the Big Dig.

I guess then it’s no wonder that my political self is somewhat inextricable from my Jewish self. The two things feel super-glued to one another; the kind of glue that, if applied to your hand, would cause serious damage when attempting to rip your fingers apart without some weird solvent. I understand the political world as a white, upper-middle class progressive Jewish woman. I carry all of those things with me as I follow the news and make political analyses.

This political-Jew link doesn’t mean I wear an Israeli flag pin or always vote for Jewish politicians. It means I always vote, I value education, and I want justice for all marginalized peoples. Being Jewish means I engage in debate, constantly, and loudly (in person or on the internet—yes, I fall down the social media hole of yelling into the abyss quite often).

I guess it is my loud internet commentary that caught the eye of a friend at JewishBoston, and I guess I will now have a blog to write about what I think and feel about politics, pop culture, identity, Judaism, and the place where all those things intersect or diverge. I am not an expert on political theory, but I like to talk about and engage in the political process. I am not a person of color, but I think deeply and often about whiteness and white privilege. I am not a scholar, but I am co-Director of a fellowship that teaches Jewish teens about how to find their feminist voices. I am the daughter of my (somewhat Boston-prolific) wonderful parents, but we do not agree on everything.

So, here we go. Tune in next week to read about Beyonce. Because I love me some Beyonce.