Oh, the ’90s: a time when the distinctive cultural elements in North America included The Backstreet Boys, The Lion King, Tamagotchis and, of course, the beloved prime-time TV programming block TGIF.
Among the family-friendly sitcoms was the long-running “Boy Meets World,” a show that’s still heavily discussed and memed today. Yet during my recent nostalgia-fueled rewatch, I’ve noticed something that’s been severely overlooked in the discourse: “Boy Meets World” is actually pretty Jewish.
It feels obvious. Even though the occasional Christmas episode and references to God clearly mean that the Matthews are firmly a semi-secular Christian middle-class family. Even though there’s not a single mention of the Holocaust during the wacky “Sabrina the Teenage Witch” crossover episode where the characters time-travel to World War II. And even though there aren’t any explicitly Jewish characters that I can remember.
First, the whole show essentially revolves around Judaism since, according to cast members, its filming schedule was designed to accommodate the strict Shabbat observance of Jewish showrunner Michael Jacobs.
On top of that, there are often casual mentions of characters who could be potential members of the tribe: a cute girl named Shoshanna, a student journalist named Ira, a bully named Joseph “Joey the Rat” Epstein, Eric’s witness protection alter ego “Dr. Abraham Shapiro, cardiologist” and Kimberly Sussman, the classmate who throws a party to celebrate her new nose in the Very Special Episode where Cory and Shawn learn about alcoholism.
Michael and other Jewish writers also regularly sprinkled Yiddish words throughout the series. There was the time Joey ranted, “So, before you go pontificating from your tuchus,” and the time when an Italian hairdresser from Jersey dramatically exclaimed, “Everything I have done up until now is dreck!” In season five, Eric and Jack attempt to make their new dean a Mr. Feeny-like mentor by bringing him a tasty babka; he hilariously responds, “You bums think you’re gonna buy me off with a stinkin’ babka?” (I mean, would two Christian white boys from Philly even know what that is? Wouldn’t they be more likely to bring a strudel or bundt cake?)
But the most secretly Jewish part of “Boy Meets World” is the boy himself. You just have to watch one scene with Ben Savage’s Cory to see it. His Ashkenazi Jewishness shines through consistently, whether it’s in the tone and sing-song rhythmic inflections of his voice and pronunciation, in the way he moves his body with lots of shrugging, exaggerated facial expressions and big hand gestures, or in his classic depiction of the schlemiel archetype: the lovable Jewish fool who self-mocks and gets into scrapes.
Cory’s personality is also basically that of a neurotic old Jewish man: He jokes about having vast emotional damage, drives anxiously, regularly complains about his tummy aches and even gets diagnosed with hypochondria. His season two fantasy about his elder years includes stealing rolls at the diner, complaining about the prices, asking for prunes and even using the word “oy.”
It mostly feels fun to see Jewish humor represented in a non-Jewish setting. But honestly, I’d prefer more explicit and high-quality representation. Because without explicitly naming the Jewish elements, at best they are lost to a non-Jewish audience, and at worst the show ends up perpetuating antisemitism.
The most glaring example is the running jokes about Cory’s appearance. The character doesn’t resemble his family at all. While they all look like quintessential WASPs, Cory has Ben Savage’s features — ones that are commonly associated with Ashkenazim.
His dark, curly brown hair — his Jewfro — is a frequent punching bag especially. In the standout early episode “Cory’s Alternative Friends,” where Topanga gives him his first kiss, Cory is getting a drink from the cafeteria vending machine when he overhears two girls who he thinks refer to him as a gross “Brillo Head.” As a result, Cory obsesses over his “Chia Pet” appearance for the entire episode, even going so far as to attempt to straighten his “Velcro” hair, using a cream that burns so badly his ears feel like “throbbing jalapenos” and his scream echoes into the solar system.
His fixation with blending in comes off as basic teenage insecurity. In fact, the episode is obviously attempting to convey a message about the importance of embracing individuality and authenticity. This is stated plainly when Mr. Feeny says, “Strange is in the eye of the beholder,” and Topanga opines, “Every time you’re not true to yourself, the Earth weeps.”
But when his friends and family tell him, “The hair does not make the man,” and “It’s not what you look like on the outside that matters,” they are basically saying, “Yeah, you do look funny! But don’t worry, we don’t care!” Ultimately, they confirm that his insecurity makes sense because his hair doesn’t resemble the ‘90s heartthrob “curtain” hairstyles of Shawn and Eric. After mistakenly transforming his hair into a greasy helmet, he says to a laughing Eric, “This is your fault! You got the good hair.” Eric confidently replies, “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” and the studio audience cheers in agreement. In a similar season four episode with the theme of “physical appearance is secondary to inner beauty,” Cory tells Shawn, “Between you and Eric, I feel like I’m surrounded by people with perfect hair.” And let’s not forget Kimberly Sussman, the potentially Jewish character who gets rhinoplasty, a sadly common experience among Jews who are tired of the dehumanizing remarks about their appearance.
These statements end up endorsing the idea that there are objectively optimal physical features, which is, frankly, a white supremacist concept.
Because Cory isn’t supposed to be Jewish, the show ignores the context of how Western societies have racialized and mocked Jewish appearances over the centuries to ostracize our community and perpetuate antisemitic stereotypes. It ends up propagating an exclusionary beauty standard and entrenching harmful biases, all while erasing a diverse cultural experience that deserves to be told.
Despite my misgivings about the internalized antisemitism and other problematic storylines in the show that haven’t aged well, I will still cherish the series for its combination of humor, heart and essential life lessons. And I’m going to choose to love the best parts of the subtle Jewishness, like the never-mentioned menorah decorations in the background of Christmas episodes, the moment when Cory tells Mr. Feeny, “I’m proud that I knew that Krusty the Clown was the son of a rabbi” and when Eric says to his dad “But I won’t work Saturday, I respect my Jewish peeps.” These little references feel like inside jokes just for me. But ultimately, I’m going to look elsewhere to satisfy my craving for meaningful onscreen representation.
Late Take is a series on Hey Alma where we revisit Jewish pop culture of the past for no reason, other than the fact that we can’t stop thinking about it?? If you have a pitch for this column, please e-mail submissions@heyalma.com with “Late Take” in the subject line.
