
Girsh Sorkin, keeping Yiddish alive
By Judith W. Rosenthal
Girsh and his wife, Feiga, arrived in the United States from Latvia on Dec. 21, 1992. President George H.W. Bush would soon be leaving office, and "Murphy Brown" and "Northern Exposure" were on TV. The price of the weekday New York Times was 50 cents. Of course, none of this was of any importance to the Sorkins, as they settled in with their oldest son, Lev, and his family in Cranford.
The first time I met Girsh Sorkin was in October of 2006. I registered for a beginner's Yiddish class at the Scotch Plains JCC, and Girsh was the teacher. The course was organized by the Workmen's Circle, and truthfully, I did not know what to expect. As a true beginner, apparently one of the few Jews who grew up in a family in which no one spoke Yiddish, I was determined to recapture the Mamaloshen.
Now, two years later, 80-year-old Girsh continues giving Yiddish classes at the JCC, and with his guidance I have moved up to the intermediate class. Girsh brings a "can do" philosophy to life as well as language learning. In spite of the many challenges he has faced, he remains optimistic, does not believe in kvetching, and feels very strongly that it is just as important to "train your brain" as it is to exercise your body.
Girsh and Feiga had owned a home, surrounded by a beautiful garden including fruit trees and berry bushes, outside of Riga. In 1989, after a lifetime of work, Girsh retired from his position as a project manager in the radiotechnical industry. He began teaching Jewish history and the Yiddish language at a school in Riga, where Jewish life was flourishing. Nonetheless, inflation and deteriorating living conditions followed the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, and the Sorkins missed their two sons and grandchildren. While Lev's family had moved to the United States, their younger son, Max, and his family had made aliyah. Girsh wanted to move to Israel, but Lev and his wife needed help caring for their two small children in New Jersey.
Imagine being a university-educated engineer, like Girsh, fluent in Yiddish, Russian, and Latvian, and knowing some Hebrew and German. You arrive in New Jersey and can't speak a word of English. None of those other languages nor years of engineering experience would be of help in adapting to the American way of life. But Girsh, as he stepped off the airplane in December of 1992, already had two goals in mind: to learn English and to get a driver's license.
This wasn't the first time Girsh needed to learn a new language quickly nor was it the first time he had experienced what he calls "language shock". Growing up in a Yiddish speaking family, he had to learn Russian when the Soviet Communists took over Riga in 1940. So again, 53 years later in 1993, he and his wife enrolled in the English as a Second Language program at Union County College. In two years, Girsh completed the entire ESL program. As for the driver's license, Girsh knew from seeing American movies in Russia that in the U.S. "even the poorest people have cars". By 1994, Girsh and Feiga had moved into their own apartment in Elizabeth, and Girsh was a licensed driver.
It certainly was a long distance -- literally and figuratively -- from Riga to Elizabeth. Girsh wasn't even 12 years old when the Soviets took over Riga. Then, a year later in 1941, the Nazis invaded the Soviet Union, and Girsh's family fled east to a village outside of Kirov. By 1945, Girsh was able to return to Riga where he worked as an electrician at VEF, the biggest factory in Latvia. Unfortunately, he could not live in his parents' apartment in Riga; the entire block had been taken over by the Soviets, and the apartments given to the families of Soviet officers. Girsh continued his schooling after work, and it was not until 1960, when he was almost 32 years old, that he completed his engineering degree. By then he had been married to Feiga for four years. Girsh advanced steadily at work, and although he served in the Soviet army in the early 1950s, he never joined the Communist Party.
In 1992, at an age and stage of life when most of us want to take it easy, Girsh and Feiga started over in America. They now live in Cranford where they are active members of Congregation Beth El Mekor Chaim. "Baby sitting" for the grandchildren, teaching Yiddish, traveling, reading (in Russian, Yiddish, and English), and singing in his temple choir keep Girsh busy.
Girsh admits that teaching Yiddish to adults is considerably more difficult than to children. Even with small classes, he has noted that adult beginners have a high dropout rate. Girsh certainly knows from his own experience, first learning Russian and then English, the challenges one faces learning to read, write, speak, and understand another language. With a twinkle in his eye and infinite patience, he creates a congenial classroom atmosphere. He tries to make learning grammar and verb conjugations as "attractive" as possible and emphasizes the "sound" of Yiddish, helping the learner develop a feel for the language. Mixing textbook instruction with a traditional Yiddish song (such as "Afn Pripetshik") or a story by Sholem Aleichem, Girsh does his part to keep Yiddish a living language. He predicts that although the heymish Yiddish of the shtetl is disappearing, a more academic "Yiddish as a Second Language" will survive. By the way, Rosetta Stone still does not offer a Yiddish program!
Judith W. Rosenthal is a professor of biological sciences at Kean University. She lives in Edison.