Today is National Oreo Day, a whimsical festival established to appreciate the cultural significance of America’s most popular cookie. For Jews, however, the history of the Oreo highlights the rather serious theme at the center of our upcoming festival of Purim, i.e. the tension between being a part of and apart from the society in which we live.

Even though we Jews want to maintain our cultural and religious distinctiveness, in our heart of hearts, we also want to feel like we belong, and for eighty-six years—from the production of the very first Oreo cookie in 1912 until the unveiling of kosher Oreos in 1998—we didn’t. Yes, there existed countless symbols of Jewish ascendancy in America. One couldn’t turn on a television without seeing Jewish celebrities like Hank Greenberg, Sandy Koufax, Lenny Bruce, Mel Brooks, Gilda Radner, and Stephen Spielberg… or prominent officials like Henry Kissinger, Barbara Boxer, or Diane Feinstein. We even had the Hanukkah Song, courtesy of Adam Sandler, to remind us that we had made it.

But, for a Jewish kid growing up in 80’s-90’s rural Pennsylvania, celebrities and politicians just weren’t enough. Every time my Jewish day school handed out those Hydrox cookies that reminded me of cardboard, I was reminded that we weren’t quite American yet. But in 1993, Nabisco swapped lard in exchange for vegetable oil, and then, in 1998, the first Oreo packages with an O-U arrived.

Now, Jews had really made it. Now, Jews were truly American.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t remember my first Oreo. I’m sure I had them before they adopted the kosher certification. My dad worked for Nabisco, so we knew immediately when they removed lard from their production lines years earlier. But the stamp of approval carried significance. Never again would I have to see a Hydrox cookie at a kosher Jewish school or camp or rations (sorry, Hydrox, thanks for being there for us!).

In recalling that feeling, I cannot help but wonder, in what ways do children—not just Jewish children, but all children—still feel left out of American culture? And how can we help them feel more a part of America, even as they maintain their distinctiveness?

–Rabbi Josh Knobel