Writing on this blog about being an American and all that it means to me would have never crossed my mind. I sell houses and write about Princeton, West Windsor and Montgomery real estate. What does this post has to do with real estate?

Since I started writing on AR, I discovered that sometimes my best laid out plans for the next post just go out the window because the words have a mind of their own and jump out onto the keyboard. This morning I read Brad Anderson’s post and realized my profile s-s, I mean it has challenges and needs a lot more work. I decided to do that, and then I read Kathy McGraw’s post and before I knew it my heart was pounding and I am writing this.

Why? Because it is so important to me.

I am an American –because lucky stars, American students’ protests, American higher political interests, and some risk taking on my part have all come together to free me.

I know oppression first hand. Since the day I can remember myself I knew, we were different.  In Kiev, where I grew up, parents did not make play dates- kids just went outside and played. They did not mess with me much, probably because I went to a special English school, or because I was considered “smart” and they needed help with their homework. My poor little sister got the brunt of it. She was taunted, teased and humiliated. She was told, “Go back to your country”. That was our country –all my ancestors were born there. My father faught for that country when he was only sixteen. My sister and I used to play with his medals.

Fast forward to high school graduation and college.  The authorities did not give me a gold medal upon graduation, which I was entitled to - I was #1 student with all straight A’s.  To enter college under Soviet regime students had to take entrance exams at one University of their choice. If you did not get in, you had to wait till next year.

I (and others like me) was given a special exam – a much harder one –on the level of math competitions. I knew ahead of time, it was going to happen, so I prepared by studying the problems from those competitions.

There were only 3 of us admitted. We were told we couldn’t study during the day –only at night and work during the day.  I could not find work without someone putting a word in for me.

I went to work at 6am-5pm, to school -6pm-12am, got home at 2am. This went on for 6 years until I got my MSEE.

When I found out that I could escape, I took the risk. My ride out of the country can only be described as a dark movie, with searches in the middle of the night and running in the rain literally to catch the train to freedom. I arrived in this country with a baby, a suitcase and a baby's potty.


I am in this country and was planning today to write about Princeton, West Windsor, and Montgomery, and Hopewell real estate. Instead I am writing and crying (OK, I am emotional) with pride about being an American and never tolerating injustice and bigotry.

The voices of my grandparents murdered by the Nazi, with many neighbors standing by and watching, are in my head as I am writing this.