If you had asked me as a child whether an Israeli Jew and the daughter of an Iranian refugee could become inseparable friends, I wouldn’t have understood why the question mattered.

What eventually ended our friendship had nothing to do with our families’ histories. It came decades later, after politics became more important than personal memory.

Leila and I met in elementary school after we were both rezoned into a new school where we knew exactly nobody. We were painfully shy, equally awkward, and, in a school full of Lunchables and peanut butter sandwiches, equally embarrassed by the lunches our parents packed.

Despite my blonde hair, blue eyes and complexion that burns after three seconds in direct sunlight, I was always the “foreign kid.” My parents’ accents, South African curries, Israeli salads and refusal to celebrate Christmas ensured that I’d never quite fit in.

I remain convinced that casually informing several classmates Santa Claus wasn’t real was the greatest public relations disaster the Jewish people have ever inflicted upon themselves. Or at least the greatest one committed by an eight-year-old in suburban Nevada.

One afternoon, I noticed another girl sitting alone, eating something that looked suspiciously like hummus.

That was all the invitation I needed.

The relief of finding someone else trying to hide Middle Eastern food from American children outweighed any fear of introducing myself. I walked over, said hello, and unknowingly began a friendship that would last nearly twenty years.

When I first visited her house, I immediately noticed the enormous Persian rug hanging on the wall. Between her name, the décor and the unfamiliar surname I couldn’t pronounce, I started wondering whether she might be Jewish.

When my father came to pick me up, our two fathers introduced themselves.

Leila’s father, Farid, explained that he had fled Iran with his family during the 1980s.

My father smiled and replied that we had moved to Nevada from Israel.

As a child, I remember feeling nervous. I hate admitting it now, but I was embarrassed to be Jewish—not because I disliked being Jewish, but because........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)