As someone who grew up in states with 1% and less than .5% Jewish populations, respectively (Georgia and Wisconsin), I am acutely aware of this. I only went to five or six bar mitzvah parties in middle school – none of which were reminiscent of an episode of “My Super Sweet Sixteen” – I am used to there only being one or two kosher restaurants in my city, and unlike a friend of mine who went to a religious high school in Brooklyn, I had no trouble believing that Jews are only .2% of the nation’s population.

Last week I saw Professor Jonathan Sarna of Brandeis University give a lecture on Judaism in America. He noted that one of the big trends he sees is the increasing consolidation of Jews in first world countries, and I would add to that a trend towards consolidation in certain large metropolitan areas. It has become almost a rite of passage for young Jews to put in a few years in New York City after college graduation.

New York is indeed the epicenter of American Jewish life. In fact, people at school have often assumed that I am from New York because of my obvious Jewishness and non-regional diction. I relish the surprised looks on their faces when I inform them that no, I am not from Great Neck – I am from two relatively random states. The reality is that my first trip to New York was when I was 18 years old, and I am one of probably three Jews in the country who have absolutely no family in the metropolitan New York area – not an aunt on Long Island, not a grandparent in Westchester, not even a distant cousin in New Jersey.

Yes there is Jewish life elsewhere, and vibrant Jewish life at that. I’ve often discussed with my friends who also hail from off the beaten Jewish path what the better environment is to grow up in and what we want for our children. Of course the idea of living where synagogues and Jews and kosher restaurants are bountiful is tempting to us personally, but we wonder if that is the best situation in which to cultivate Jewish identities. We feel like we have had to work harder for our Judaism and therefore don’t take it for granted.

A friend of mine from Tallahassee, Florida (not the part of the state that contributed much to its 3% Jewish population) told me that several kids from her tiny Hebrew school class were considering the rabbinate. “If you make it out of Tallahassee Jewish, you are really into your Judaism,” she told me. Smaller communities are also close-knit. I love that the name of almost any Jew from Milwaukee is almost guaranteed to be familiar to either me, my mom or my grandma. I didn’t even feel that in Marietta, Georgia, and I definitely don’t feel that now in Boston.

As the classic Jewish summer camp song goes:

“Wherever you go, there’s always someone Jewish.
You’re never alone when you say you’re a Jew.
So when you’re not home and you’re somewhere kind of newish
The odds are, don’t look far, cuz they’re Jewish too.”

(Yes, that song really did just rhyme “Jewish” and “newish.”)

Consolidate though we might, there will continue to be Jews in lots of places. And when it comes down to it, I think that strong Jewish identities can be cultivated anywhere. All it really takes are individuals who make it a priority.