I’m Heidi Rabinowitz and I am so happy to be Jewish. The beautiful and varied customs, the focus on deep thought and learning, and the historical connections going back over the centuries, all bring me joy. That’s why I’ve dedicated my career to synagogue librarianship and why I’ve been podcasting about Jewish children’s literature for over a decade. That is also why I created the Jewish Joy series. In fact, the 20th anniversary of The Book of Life Podcast will take place in December 2025 – stay tuned, I’m making celebratory plans!
What?
I’m thrilled to share this Jewish Joy series for Multicultural Kid Blogs with you. I’ll be bringing you Q&A’s from diverse intersectional Jewish authors, showcasing the variegated tapestry of Jewish life and books. In each interview, I’ll link back to the author’s appearance on The Book of Life Podcast for you to hear their voice and learn more about them.
Why?
In these turbulent times with antisemitism at record highs, Jewish Joy is crucial. As poet Toi Derricotte says, joy is an act of resistance. Joyful books invite everyone in, so that Jewish stories can, in the words of Dr. Rudine Sims Bishop, become windows as well as mirrors, bringing hope, demystifying the Jewish experience, and building empathy and understanding.
Who?
In the last Jewish Joy post in this series, you met Sephardic authors Sarah Aroeste and Bridget Hodder. Today, I’m thrilled to introduce you to Sarah Sassoon, Mizrahi Jewish author of picture books showcasing her Iraqi heritage. Sarah appeared on The Book of Life Podcast in 2023 to talk about her debut book, Shoham’s Bangle.
The genre of Mizrahi Jewish literature is small but growing, and Sarah is one of the authors who has gotten the ball rolling. I’m pleased to bring you this exclusive interview for Multicultural Kid Blogs, and if you’d like to hear more from Sarah in her own voice, please click on the podcast link below.
Q&A with Sarah Sassoon
THE BOOK OF LIFE: Sarah, please describe your own Jewish identity, along with any other aspects of your identity that you’d like to share.
SARAH SASSOON: My Jewish identity is rooted in the Babylonian Jewish tradition—what many today refer to as Iraqi Jewish. It traces back over 2,600 years to the exile of the Jews from Judea to Babylon following the destruction of Solomon’s Temple in 586 BCE. However, I am a first-generation Australian. My father was born in Baghdad, and all of my grandparents came from Iraq. So while I am Australian, my cultural and spiritual roots are deeply entwined with the ancient Jewish communities of the Middle East.
TBOL: Why is it important to you to include Jewish representation in your writing?
SS: For a long time, I didn’t consciously think about my Jewishness in the context of my writing. I saw myself as a human being first, a writer who could tell all kinds of stories. And while I still believe in the universality of storytelling, I’ve come to recognize that my Middle Eastern Jewish identity is not just part of who I am—it’s the heartbeat of my most powerful work. When I began writing from this place, something shifted. My writing sang. It carried the emotional truth of stories that only I could tell, grounded in lived experience, heritage, and voice.
For me, my Jewishness is a reminder that whilst we’re all human, each of us carries a particular inheritance of memory, culture, and story. That specificity is what makes our lives and literature rich and diverse.
TBOL: About being Jewish: what is hard, and what brings you joy?
SS: I’ve been reflecting on this a lot lately. The name “Israel”—the name given to Jacob after wrestling with the angel—means to wrestle with God. That struggle is central to Jewish life. I’ll never forget what the Antiguan-American writer Jamaica Kincaid once said about choosing to become Jewish: how she admired that it is a religion that asks questions and demands deep reflection.
Being Jewish isn’t always easy. It calls for deep introspection, accountability, and a sense of moral responsibility. But in that challenge lies the joy. Judaism offers a beautifully structured life—rituals that lend rhythm, purpose, and togetherness.
Take Shabbat, for example: every Saturday we unplug from the world, as a family. That’s no small feat with kids! And the festivals—whether it’s reflecting on freedom from slavery during Passover, celebrating the gift of law and the harvest on Shavuot, or building booths like the Israelites did in the desert on Sukkot—fill the year with moments of meaning. As a Mizrahi Jew, I also cherish our unique customs—like our special festive songs, and the apple jam we make on Rosh Hashanah. These practices root me in both ancient tradition and the warmth of family memory.
Yes, being Jewish means struggle. But it’s a struggle toward something: becoming better people, creating a better world. That brings me joy both as a writer and as a person. Even when I write about painful topics, like my family’s displacement from Iraq, I try to convey the beauty and strength of Jewish resilience.
TBOL: What do you want the world to know about Jewish people?
SS: I want people to remember that Jews are an ancient people—literally from the Bible—and that we come from all corners of the world. My own grandmother grew up in a southern village in Iraq, Al Uzair, by the tomb of Ezra the Scribe, the biblical leader who helped the Jewish people return to Jerusalem after the Second Temple was rebuilt in 515 BCE. He is part of my family’s memory.
Jews have always been part of the Middle East. In 1917, a third of Baghdad was Jewish. Today, there are only three Jews left in Iraq, after the mass expulsion of 1951–52. For millennia, we were integral to the cultural, economic, and spiritual life of the region. That legacy deserves to be remembered.
TBOL: Please tell us about the Jewish books you’ve written.
SS: I wrote Shoham’s Bangle (Kar-Ben, 2022), a picture book inspired by my family’s story of leaving Iraq. Growing up in Australia, I didn’t understand why my grandparents had left. They spoke Judeo-Arabic, fed me delicious Iraqi food, and played beautiful Arabic music—but the story of their departure was never spoken aloud.
Writing Shoham’s Bangle became a way to recover that history. The book follows a young girl named Shoham who lives a vibrant life in Baghdad. But her family had to leave everything behind—including her jewelry. (This really happened to my aunt; Jews were forbidden from taking valuables out of Iraq.)
Unlike my aunt, who was seven years old and had to surrender her ring to the officials at the airport, I wanted Shoham to keep her bangle. In the book, I give Shoham a special way to carry her memories and her identity with her. It’s a story of loss, but also of resilience, gratitude, and hope. These are profoundly Jewish themes: how we carry our history with us, how we rebuild, how we thrive despite what happens to us.
My second picture book, This Is Not a Cholent (Kar-Ben, 2024), is a fun, joyous SEL book about a little girl in Australia who enters her Iraqi Jewish grandmother’s special Iraqi chicken and rice recipe in a Shabbat cholent stew competition. It’s about how difficult—and anxiety-provoking—it can be to feel different when you come from an immigrant home. Yet it carries the message that being proud of your own special traditions, which are ancient and have survived so much, is powerful.
TBOL: What other Jewish books are you excited about, and why?
SS: I’m thrilled to see a wave of new books that celebrate Jewish diversity, especially from Middle Eastern, North African, and Sephardic communities. When I was growing up, there were no books that told stories like mine. So to see books like Ruth Behar’s Tía Fortuna’s New Home: A Jewish Cuban Journey (Knopf Books), whimsically illustrated by Devon Holzwarth, and Etan Basseri’s A Persian Passover (Kalaniot Books), joyously illustrated by Rashin Kheiriyeh, and A Turkish Rosh Hashana (Kalaniot Books), beautifully researched and illustrated by Zeynep Özatalay—and many others writing about Mizrahi and Sephardi experiences—is deeply moving.
I’m also especially touched by stories that build bridges, such as books about Muslims who saved Jews during the Holocaust, like the middle-grade novel Safiyyah’s War
(Andersen Press) by Hiba Noor Khan, which describes how Jews were saved in the Grand Mosque of Paris. Another graphic novel I’m excited about is Undesirables: A Holocaust Journey to North Africa (Stanford University Press), by historian Aomar Boum and illustrator Nadjib Berber. It highlights the lesser-known story of the Holocaust in French North Africa, and delves into the true stories of Vichy-run forced labor camps and the solidarity between the inmates, emphasizing the respectful Jewish-Muslim relations that existed.
These human stories resonate with my own family’s memories—like my grandmother baking bread and sharing it with her Muslim neighbors in Iraq. They remind us that
interfaith relations were often rich and respectful, and the more we share these stories, the more we nurture a world of empathy and connection for the next generation.
TBOL: Sarah, thank you for sharing the history and perspective of Iraqi Jews with us, and for making sure that their legacy is not forgotten!
Heidi Rabinowitz
Latest posts by Heidi Rabinowitz (see all)
- Jewish Joy with Adam Gidwitz - July 13, 2026
- Jewish Joy with A.R. Vishny - June 15, 2026
- Jewish Joy with Ana María Shua - May 18, 2026
Lovely!