Noah Schoen: From the late 1960s to the early 2000s, nearly two million Jews emigrated from the Soviet Union. Driven by a mix of state-sponsored discrimination, restrictions on Jewish practice, and economic uncertainty, hundreds of thousands of these Jews found their way to the United States. 

Dina Rayzberg was one of them. She was raised by Jewish parents in a small city in the Soviet Union where the outward expression of Judaism was officially forbidden. Despite early experiences of antisemitism and her parents never discussing Judaism out loud, she developed a proud Jewish identity from a young age. 

It wasn’t until Dina moved to the United States that she was able to express herself openly as a Jew. This was a taste of liberation that she savors until today. 

Dina Rayzberg: I'm Dina Rayzberg. I've lived in Pittsburgh for many years now. My family immigrated to United States in 1991 to Jacksonville, Florida, and then we moved to Pittsburgh in 1997, and we've lived here since then. 

The Jewish community in Pittsburgh was extremely welcoming to me and to my children. And Pittsburgh is very dear to me. I really consider Pittsburgh to be my hometown.  And I'd say that I lived here my best years, and I hope to continue living here. 

So, I was born in 1959 in a city called Bendery in Moldova. It's like one hour drive from Kishinev. My father is so-called Bessarabian Jew and his family lived in Kishinev before the war, first under Romania, and then Bessarabia became Soviet Union in 1940.

And my mother is from Odessa, which was called Jerusalem on Black Sea. It was very, very Jewish. And Kishinev was very, very Jewish. 

I had a very good childhood. My parents were loving, very fun people. Our home was always filled with books. And my father played guitar, and we loved to sing. You know we didn't have good TV, so we were just reading books. I had wonderful friends. We spent lots of time outside just walking around. It was different life from United States. You know, you didn't have to make appointments to have a playdate. You just go out and just play. 

I grew up hearing—but this is true for any Soviet child OK of my generation—that World War II, which was over in 1945, memory of it, and experience that people went through were very, very fresh still. We read books about it. We watched movies about it. And my family always talked about it, because they went through horrible, terrible experiences. OK. 

They survived this war. And they evacuated from the territory that were captured by Nazis. So, they did not necessarily went through camps—but —they went through starvation, through losing relatives because of the war, losing each other, then finding each other. There was such dramatic stories. 

And the reason that they had to run and evacuate was because they were Jewish. When war broke first, like in Belorussia, in Western part of Soviet Union, we heard that people were gathered in one building and just burned, or things like that. But we didn't know that these people actually were Jews. OK. That was not in our textbooks when we learned history, for example, at school. OK.

But I should say, though, that it was known that Germans were killing Jews, communists, and gypsies. The communists and the Jews had priority in evacuation. So, luckily, majority of my family from both sides, mother and father, they evacuated, and they survived.

So my father was, I think, nine, ten years old when war broke. He was born 1932, and my mom was, I think, six years old. So, when they came back in 1944, '45, I mean, everything was destroyed. So, they ended up, for different reasons in very small town in Moldova. And this is when they met, at school.  So, we lived there for some time, and then we moved to Bendery. 

I don't remember myself not being aware of antisemitism or of me being Jewish. And I experienced antisemitism since my very early age. 

I mean I forgot so many things. But this one, I remember so clearly. So, I was in first grade at school, and we were very good friends with this girl. She was either Russian—See, when I say “Russian,” you guys think I'm Russian. But in Russia, nobody would consider me to be Russian. OK. You need to understand this. Only in America, all of a sudden, all the Russian Jews became Russians. We were Jews, and the nationality were Jewish. It had nothing to do with religion. We were Jewish on our passports. It would say clearly on the first page, Jewish—Yevreyka for a female, Yevrey for a male. OK. 

Back to my friend, so we were very, very good friends.And then she had birthday. And she was telling me about this birthday party that was coming up. And I was just assumed that I was going to be invited. I thought I was her very good friend. And then she says, "You know what, I'm sorry, I cannot invite you, because I only have six similar cups. And so I'm going to just invite all these people." And then I somehow press the issue, like, “Okay, but why not me?” And she finally told me because I was Jewish, and her mother told her not to invite me. 

My last name, which is—my maiden name is Steinberg, Shtaynberg. It would sound in Russian. I mean it would always reveal that I was Jewish. It could not be secret. 

But there was no really Jewish life in Russia. We were like closeted. OK. I mean, you will not see a book on which would be written word, “Jewish” OK. Or movie that would be about Jews. But I had very strong Jewish identity, too. And I think majority of Soviet Jews had very strong Jewish identity, even though there was nothing religious about it. They had no idea.

My parents never spoke a word about religion. They both were teachers. And I mean for teachers to even mention anything religious was absolutely unacceptable. 

Well, one of my grandmother, my mother's side, she was like in Komsomol when she was young, young communists But the other grandma, she definitely knew a lot. Maybe she did not want us in trouble in case we say something. My parents spoke a little bit of Yiddish to communicate with grandmothers or when they didn't want me to understand, It's just hard to say. What is it define this strong feelings that you are Jewish? I don't know. I'm not sure. 

And I do believe that in current situation, when antisemitism like rising, I believe that Jewish identity will get stronger for many people, too. I think that being so negative, it somehow, I think, makes it stronger.
I had other incidents definitely, like an antisemitic comments on the streets, definitely, yes. There were still lots of people who spoke Yiddish, like of my age, for example. And even my grandmother, when she met some neighbor on the street who were also Jewish, they would speak Yiddish, and the passerbyers would be very like you know having comments. And I would feel so embarrassed, actually. And now I'm so embarrassed that I felt so embarrassed when my grandma would speak publicly in Yiddish.

I remember my mother would say, as if something positive, that, “What this person, they don't look Jewish.” And it was something positive, it was something good, not to look like Jew, or not to act like a Jew, whatever that meant. You know, when everybody repeats these things about Jews, you start believing this somewhat. OK. So, it was a good thing not to be looking like Jew or not act like Jew. Not speak with this like Jewish accent, like you know people speak in Brooklyn, for example. So, the same sort of Jews spoke Russian with this little bit different accent, melody to their speech. 

So, this is one terrible thing about antisemitism, that people start thinking bad about themselves. But on the other side I never wanted not to be Jewish.  

I always felt great specialness. I felt like I belong to a very special group of people. 

Of course, we were extremely proud despite of all this antisemitism. OK that in Russia was like coming actually from the top. There were quotas for people to enter universities. There were straightforward, just like some professions will just not be accessible for Jews.

And despite of all this, Jews somehow managed to be great filmmakers and great writers and great doctors. They would change their last names, so it wouldn't be obvious. But of course, looking at their faces, we knew they were Jewish, and we were very proud of them. And I always thought that Jews are very special. And I always was happy, very glad, that I was Jewish. 

Anyway, so I was graduating from high school and so, I was a good student. And so, the question was like what to do with me. 

Of course, there were Jews that would be accepted to universities in this part, too. You have to have like serious connections for this or give huge bribes. 

But my parents, as I said, they were teachers. They didn't have lots of money to give, and they did not have any huge connections, and we had relatives in Ural Mountains, city of Perm. So, I was shipped it was practically to cross the whole European part of Russia to city of Perm, and I started my studies. I did enter a university there. I lived there until the immigration time. 

And then I met my husband. He had last name Rayzberg, which is my last name now. So soon as I heard his last name, I was, of course, interested in him. 

His father was Jewish, and his mother was actually Russian. But he was raised by his grandparents on Ukraine—Jewish grandparents. So, he actually was raised in a very Jewish family. And so, immediate understanding there was established between us. 

When I already was married, and I stayed home with the baby, my next door neighbor had a daughter who was in elementary school and she was go to school in second shift. But her mother and father were not home at this time, so she would ask me to braid her hair and to make sure that she ate lunch. And Sasha and I would help her with her homework. And then she'd come to me, and ask for pan, for salt. We were just really good neighbors.

And at some point, she realized that I was Jewish. I probably said so. And she was so shocked. She said, "All my life, I was told that Jews are just these monsters, this like horrible, terrible people." And she said, "I never actually saw one before." She was absolutely shocked. 

As you go towards eastern part of Russia, like Siberia, north like Ural Mountains, I'd say people somehow were more innocent in a good way. OK. It was not as antisemitic. I mean many didn't even see ever a Jew and were not affected by this culture of antisemitism. 

Perm, it was beyond the territory where Nazis not only captured, but even bombed. It was very like cultural, very good, medium-sized city, actually. And I had good life there. Good from the perspective of, you know, Soviet citizen. 

We were as poor as everybody else, so it felt fine. But we did have everything what was necessary. We were never hungry. We had an apartment. You know, Margarita, our daughter, she went to good school. We lived in good part of the city.

But then after perestroika, all of a sudden in this city, we see like swastikas or some “dirty Jews” written on the walls somewhere. After perestroika this nationalistic moods, you know, became stronger. We just felt this. And so, like everybody got scared and people started running in Israel, United States.

We didn't have relatives here. But, somehow, one of my relative initiated this process. And so we went to Moscow to American embassy, and we went through interview, and we ended up being lucky and come to United States.

Schoen:  What was it like to move to Jacksonville? 

Rayzberg: Well, to begin with, it was June. June in Florida. It is so humid and so hot. In Jacksonville— the majority of immigrants——we lived in the same apartment complex.  It was convenient because whatever help they had to provide, we were in one place. And also, we shared the information. Some people came a few months ago were already like almost natives and some people just came. 

It was actually a good idea, even though there was also lots of negative things. Because you know  in one place, we would like share also our fears and negativity. And it's a very traumatic experience.
Of course, none of us had cars here. In Jacksonville, you cannot do anything without a car. So, they bussed us to synagogue for Shabbat. Well, that was really wild, because that was so foreign to us. I mean, I can just see how these American Jews who demonstrated for us and who wanted us to come so much and fought for us to, “Let my people go,” and this and that, They probably were expecting us to come and embrace everything that they embrace. But we were from another planet, and we still in some ways are.

People were there extremely welcoming, and very, very friendly. I just didn't like Florida. Jacksonville never felt like home, because it was just so foreign comparing to places where we lived in Russia. 
It was very hot. Ah, everything was forever green. There was no seasons. And there were no people on the streets. Everybody like would would get in their car in the garage and they drive somewhere. I mean, you don't really walk outside,

And I always felt somewhat of disappointment in American Jews that Russians, for which they did so much, just not you know live up to their expectations. 

There was no religion, Not Christian, not Jewish. None of it in our lives. Also, the idea of volunteering or of charities, or of donations was so foreign to us. Because Communist Party—and I'm being very sarcastic now, OK— was taking care of everything, so we did not have to ever help anybody. Nobody needed help in Soviet Union. So, it was tough. 

We were very appreciative that the small Jewish school took our children. And they gave us huge break. So, Margarita, my daughter, she embraced all this. She came home, "Mama, let's light the candles,” and I'm like, "What?" So she would explain me things. 

And then she wanted to go to synagogue for Shabbat, so we went. And before you know, the High Holidays came, and I fasted first time, because everybody were. I just rejoiced with everybody at the break fast. And then I heard some melodies that I realized my grandma actually was humming during the High Holiday services. So, I just embraced this.

And everything Jewish like fascinated me. And we were going to garage sales to buy like household items. But people were also selling books for like five cents.

So, I see this book, The Rise of American Jewish Literature. It was a thick book of  American Jewish writers. My English was extremely limited. But I just started reading. You know you start reading, you don't understand anything, but by the time you finish, you feel it more than. So, I learned a lot from this book about American Jews, which were mystery to me. 

And I learned about this times when American Jews they wanted to move to suburbs and sort of you know be done with their American Jewish life, while their parents were still in Brooklyn. and all these conflicts around there, and intermarriages. And that was my encyclopedia of American Jews. OK.
And then I found this tape in synagogue library. Like taking you through the whole Passover Seder, with all the songs, and giving such good interpretation. And I was commuting thirty minutes to work and back. I was listening over and over, and I knew this tape by heart. And I conducted a Passover seder. 

People were there extremely welcoming, and very, very friendly. I just didn't like Florida. Jacksonville never felt like home, because it was just so foreign comparing to places where we lived in Russia. 
It was very hot. Ah, everything was forever green. There was no seasons. A nd there were no people on the streets. Everybody like would would get in their car in the garage and they drive somewhere. I mean, you don't really walk outside.

When we moved to Pittsburgh, it just felt right, right away. I fell in love with it. This is absolutely unique place I mean for Russian Jew. Even more so, when I saw kids walking around in kippot absolutely openly Jewish. And then I saw the Jewish Israeli movie festival. Oh, my God, there is such thing—Jewish films. So, all this Jewish life on the open, available for anyone. I found myself talking about me being Jewish. I felt like liberated. But I was like not afraid. I am Jewish. It's very cool.

I mean it’s just like we take this for granted, but believe me, it just should not be taken for granted. I could only dream of something like that back in Russia. 

You know just to gather with other Jews in one place. There is this common understanding. You don't have to explain anything. To be public. To be public. Ok I mean it's priceless. It’s really priceless. 

Schoen: I want to pivot now to October 27th, 2018. Can you tell me about your day that day? 

Rayzberg: My partner's daughter, she was driving through Squirrel Hill, apparently. So, she called us, and she said, "You know, roads are closed in Squirrel Hill. She said, "I think there is shooting there." So, I ran to computer and there were like shooting. 

Well, first it's disbelief this actually could be happening. And then it’s terror that somebody you know, maybe. It was like September 11. I know it's uncomparable numbers, but the shock was comparable. 
I mean it was just like so terrible. In Pittsburgh. It was absolutely unconceivable. Unbelievable. 

My children called, of course, right away, horrified, horrified. And some friends, some people from abroad. That was actually very touching.

What can I say. It was horrific. So yeah, I cried, just like everybody else.

But unfortunately, I couldn't share my grief with my friends from Jewish community. I more shared my grief from friends from my Russian friends, who some of them Jews and some of them not. I just wanted to grieve. But I couldn't, unfortunately, grieve with my friends. I like them. I love them. I value these friendship. But on this particular very important sort of moment, I just couldn't. Because somehow my friends from Jewish community made it so political. It put me off.

So, I went to vigil. And it was impressive that Allderdice High students organized it. It was very good that they did this. Everybody started screaming, "Vote, vote, vote, vote," OK. 

I mean, “People, let's bury at least these people, let's have some grief. You know, let's not do that just yet. Ok, wait. Let's just go through this, and then you can have your political arguments. It's not the time.” So, I just couldn't.

And so I did some resolutions to myself. I should be like more Jewish. That's all I can do, nothing else. So, I said, “Okay, I'm going to go to services like every evening for to say Kaddish for as long—whatever length.” Of course, I didn't. I went for few weeks. I think it's affected me somewhat in my realizing my Jewishness.

You know I am not married to my children's father any longer, and my life partner is not Jewish. And living with this person, who is absolutely wonderful person, but made me realize how enormously huge this Jewish thing in my life, OK. It's just enormous. The reason that I realize, because he just like not aware of the significance of all this. For him, it's all foreign. He's learning. But anyway, I realized this. It's just so big. It's very, very big, for better or for worse. It changed lots of things, too, somehow. 

Schoen: What has it changed? 

Rayzberg: Well, it's changed the feeling of safety for Jews in America. You don't feel this invincibility, feeling that in this country it's not possible. That you are under some sort of protection. I'm not sure by whom, by what. But you feel like it cannot happen here, no. So, we lost this feeling. 

There was a good feeling. It was very good feeling, I mean for any Jew. But coming from Russia, definitely. Very important feeling that we lost.  I don't know if it could be restored or not. I’m not sure.
There were plenty of antisemitism in the United States. I know that. I read about it. But I don't think this violent—I don't think so. It’s just unbelievable. 

Schoen: Has all of this changed how you make sense of or understand antisemitism in the United States?
 
Rayzberg: No, I don't think so. I don’t think so. I do believe that antisemitism is here to stay forever. I don't think it will ever go away. 

You know in Russia, there was just a terrible antisemitism and nationalism, but guns were not available. Right. I mean there were no guns. So, such a massacre wouldn't be even possible. 

I'm sure plenty of Jews were beat up somewhere and put in dark corner. We would never know about it, because we were not aware of what's going on, only whatever government would choose to make us aware of. Nothing ever happened. We only would learn about this from radio stations that were forbidden. But the availability of arms here makes it easier too.           
                         
Schoen: What has been helpful for you in moving towards a process of healing from the impact of this? 

Rayzberg: It's good that we, in Judaism, like that we mention that we say their names at every service. You know we say kaddish. You know,'m not religious, in like straightforward meaning of this word. But I think that Judaism is great even for nonbelievers, because somehow, it’s just you just do the right thing. I think any time you hear of some events of antisemitism, you remember this again and again and again. 

And it's okay. Why should we forget them? We shouldn't. We should remember them. We should remember them, whenever we remember them, we should grieve. And we should be aware that it could happen. 

Schoen: Do you think that this could be a turning point of some kind in Pittsburgh for communities to stand with each other against acts of hate or violence that affect different communities?

Rayzberg: You know, I hear this a lot. Stand together, stay together. It is not clear to me. What does this mean? How do we stay together? How do you stand together against this? I'm not sure. I feel like it's a slogan. For me, there is not really meaning to it. 

If you say that Jews should be more united in general—but how do you do that if they have such different ideas. They always did.

You know. this guy at work, I mean he's Georgian Jew. He's a contractor. He just recently came like from New York. So, he comes to talk to me all the time, because he speaks Russian, and he by himself, so he wanted like some connections. And he knows a lot good Soviet history. 

So, he says that he blames Jews for self-destructing themself during the dictatorship in Russia, like Stalin's time. And he gave me these examples how because of their ideological disagreement, they would like sell each other, you know? And eventually, because they were destroying each other, Stalin came to power and killed like million of Jews and non-Jews, Because he so threatened.

And these Jews that were selling each other and destroying each other, he killed them, too. 

Schoen: What do you take from that?

Rayzberg: That Jews maybe should be more united. But I don't believe that will ever happen. 

Of course, this joke about you know “two Jews, three synagogues,” I think it holds for all the time.
What I'm saying is that you know Jews like fighting ideologically. And who knows what it may lead to? I don't believe it, but I hope that we will overcome like all the ideological differences. And I hope the Jewish community will continue striving, here and everywhere.