I dreamed up my show Ultimate Jewish Mother during lockdown. In a conversation about terrible advice people were getting from social media during the pandemic, I made a throwaway remark that everybody should just ask the nearest Jewish mother, as we hold the answers to everything. As I was stuck at home and constantly looking for distractions to minimise the risk of baking banana bread, I thought it might be fun to put this premise to the test.
I invited people to a couple of interactive shows on Facebook Live where they could ask me anything about anything at all. The audience was a mixture of Jewish and non-Jewish friends, and their queries tested my wits and the knowledge accumulated by my maternal line.
Once the world re-opened, I took the show on the road to see how it fared around the UK, in person. It remains an interactive live show, where audience members are given a card and pen before they come in, allowing them to write a question of their choice. Once they enter the performance space, they place their cards into a big chicken soup pot, and I answer them all through the show, with jokes, songs and stories. This is a risky business, as I have no idea what will come up until my hand dips into the pot. It’s like the world’s weirdest raffle where the prize is my wisdom. I strive to create a friendly environment, where the audience feels safe to ask and I feel confident to draw on my stand-up skills to answer anything, with humour and respect.
Friends, family and colleagues expressed concern about this format. What if people bombarded me with questions about Israel and politics? What if they were hostile about Judaism and Jewish culture? Interestingly, no one asked: “What happens if you can’t answer a question?” Presumably because this isn’t possible for Jewish mothers. I’ve since performed the show all over the UK. My audiences have been predominantly non-Jewish, and I’ve accumulated more than 1,500 questions, of which only two were about Israel. (One was about sightseeing, the other was about where to meet hot Israeli men.)
There have been some contentious questions. “I like to mix hummus and chrain. Am I a monster?” “Do Yorkshire puddings belong in a traditional Friday night dinner?” “What happens to all the foreskins???” The majority have been about food (mainly chicken soup), parenting, and relationships. Circumcision is the next biggest topic, followed by “myth-busting” challenges about whether Jews have horns, why the women wear wigs, and whether religious folks really do it through a hole in a sheet.
A handful have been about Jews and money, one baldly posing: “Why do Jewish people like diamonds?” I feel a big responsibility to make the response work each time, to make people laugh, but also to give serious questions respect, and most importantly not to increase antisemitism. A lovely moment occurred at the Edinburgh Fringe last year, where a young woman mentioned that she’d always felt “less than” because she’d never had a bat mitzvah. So we gave her one, there and then.
The most fascinating aspect has been audience members telling me: “You’re just like my African mum”, “You’re just like my Asian mum”, “Your just like my Catholic mum”, and so on. All that we are looking for, it turns out, is love, acceptance, and a big bowl of soup from a mum.
Rachel Creeger: Ultimate Jewish Mother is on at Upstairs at the Gatehouse on January 25, upstairsatthegatehouse.com/, and the Leicester Comedy Festival on February 11 and 12. comedy-festival.co.uk
