Branches Book

BRANCHES

sleep when I’ll hear them scuttling around inside the walls, scratching holes in the walls and burrowing their way into our pantry to eat our food. I’ve seen the help wanted sign at the local Pharmacy, and have been thinking about inquiring. My English has gotten very good, so I’m not worried about that, it’s just that my parents might not approve of me working in a shop with men at my age. But we need the money. Who knows, maybe I could make a profession out of it. February 17th, 1922, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, America I just completed my pharmacy certificate, and I am now an official pharmacist! I am the first woman to complete a pharmacy certificate from my pharmaceutical college. My parents are begrudgingly proud of me. During my apprenticeship I met a very nice young man named Julius Goldstein. He’s a doctor, only seven years older than me, and Jewish too. His father was Polish, but he was born here and is American. He speaks a little Yiddish, which was a nice surprise. He said his practice is in the Squirrel Hill neighborhood of Pittsburgh, which is very close to the Rosenberg Pharmacy, where I work. I hope I see a lot more of him! On top of that, just a few months ago I finally became a citizen! So many good things are happening at once! As someone who is interested in International Affairs and Diplomacy, I have to learn to understand my own beliefs, and how to relate and compromise those with the beliefs and upbringings of others. Part of understanding my beliefs and upbringing is understanding my history and my culture. This was especially important for me, as my interest in diplomacy and international affairs came from my interest in history. In this process, I realized that I was not far removed from a massive immigration movement out of Europe during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, which has shaped much of the community that I live in today. Another part of why this project is a passion for me is that it allows me to get to know and understand my great-grandparents, and the vastly different time and place than I. Since I have fairly little in terms of direct property or accounts of my great-grandparents, much of the writing is extrapolation or even fiction. The point of this piece is not to provide an accurate description of what immigration to the United States was like, but rather to try to get the reader to experience some of the feelings and sentiments that were felt by those, like my great grandparents, who did immigrate here. Author’s Statement: Julian Ruble

184