{"id":86377,"date":"2017-02-06T12:01:02","date_gmt":"2017-02-06T12:01:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/?p=86377"},"modified":"2017-02-06T12:40:57","modified_gmt":"2017-02-06T12:40:57","slug":"nobody-wanted-to-take-us-in-the-story-of-jared-kushners-family-and-mine","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/2017\/02\/nobody-wanted-to-take-us-in-the-story-of-jared-kushners-family-and-mine\/","title":{"rendered":"Nobody Wanted to Take Us In: The Story of Jared Kushner\u2019s Family, and Mine"},"content":{"rendered":"

httpv:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=R0lAt1g1rPs<\/em><\/p>\n

As Trump bars\u00a0refugees and Muslim immigrants from coming to this country, it\u2019s worth remembering the Jews who were shut out the last time we closed our borders\u2014like Jared Kushner\u2019s grandmother.<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/a>

The RMS Aquitania. (Library of Congress)<\/p><\/div>\n

26 Jan 2017 – <\/em>In my aunt\u2019s house, in the bedroom where \u2028I\u2019ve often slept, there\u2019s a framed photo of a ship\u2019s manifest that I love to stare at. The ship was the RMS Aquitania<\/em>, a Cunard ocean liner with an inky-black hull that was famous for its four smokestacks; its picture hangs in the bedroom, too. I can spend long minutes looking at these photos, first the ship, then the manifest, with its clutter of blocky print that draws my eyes up, down, and across the page until they finally settle on the name I\u2019m always looking for: Ozcar Ratowzer. The print tells me that he was a worker from the town of Bialystok<\/a> in Poland. If I trace down the column labeled \u201crace or people,\u201d I come to the word \u201cHebrew.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ozcar Ratowzer, also known as Osher, was my grandfather. The manifest lists him as being 16, but my family believes he was closer to 19 or 20 when he boarded the Aquitania<\/em> in Southampton, England, on October 23, 1920, and began his third-class voyage across the Atlantic. The journey took seven days, finally depositing him at Ellis Island, America\u2019s \u201cGolden Door,\u201d the gateway to a world without pogroms<\/a> or hunger or the horror of world war. There, he would almost certainly have been met by an assembly line of doctors and inspectors, who would have poked and peered at him, pried and questioned until, content with what they\u2019d found, they would have sent him on his way with his handful of old-world possessions\u00a0and the shards of a new identity. He would soon become known as Harry Ratner.<\/p>\n

My grandfather\u2019s journey has always moved me, filled me with overwhelming gratitude and awe, not least because I\u2019m aware how differently it might have turned out. Ozcar\u2019s passage to this country was far from guaranteed. A Jewish kid of conscription age, he was barred from leaving Poland legally, meaning that he and one of his older brothers, Leiser, were forced to slip over the border with Germany dressed as cattle herders, then hide in a barn overnight, buried in haystacks. Their first attempt failed: My grandfather was caught by a bunch of pitchfork-wielding German guards and sent back across the border. His second attempt was more successful, but once in Germany, he and his brother ran into a second hurdle: They were carrying fake German passports, and, family accounts suggest, the American consul had no intention of honoring them. It was only after the intercession of their oldest brother, Kalman, a Bolshevik sympathizer turned American citizen and Freemason, that the consul agreed to grant them passage to the United States. (According to family lore, the consul was also a Freemason.)<\/p>\n

The brothers arrived safely on Ellis Island on October 30, 1920, and soon made their way to Cleveland. The rest of the family\u2014their parents and six of their siblings\u2014arrived on the RMS Caronia<\/em> two months later, though their journey ended less happily. My grandfather\u2019s 9-year-old brother, Joseph, had fallen ill on the boat to America, and he died just a few weeks after reaching this country.<\/p>\n

Still, the family was lucky. Although they didn\u2019t know it at the time, the United States was about to begin slamming the door shut on immigrants just like them\u2014and it would keep that door sealed for several decades.<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

My grandfather\u2019s near-miss has haunted me \u2028for years\u2014what if he hadn\u2019t made it to this country when he did?\u2014but the thought has been relentless these last few months. Ever since Donald Trump\u2019s upset victory, I\u2019ve had the sickening sense that history is reversing itself, whipping us back to a time when a noxious, state-sponsored xenophobia gravely imperiled millions of would-be Americans. It\u2019s not that I have any illusions about the Obama administration, with its mass deportations and failure to welcome even a fractional number of Syrian refugees. But with Trump\u2019s ascendancy\u2014with his plans to\u00a0ban\u00a0Syrian refugees<\/a>, suspend immigration from majority-Muslim countries, round up undocumented immigrants, and begin construction of a \u201cphysical\u00a0wall\u201d\u2014we seem to be witnessing the rise of something at once utterly distinct and hauntingly familiar: a revived anti-immigrant regime, a nativist moment not unlike the one that seized this country a century ago.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Osher Ratowczer, later Harry Ratner, in Danzig, Germany in 1920, before heading to the United States.<\/p><\/div>\n

The parallels between that earlier period and today often get lost amid more provocative historical comparisons\u2014to Germany in 1933, for example. Nonetheless, it\u2019s worth considering this other quintessentially American moment, which began in the years before my grandfather made his way west and which, in the words of historian Alan Kraut, \u201crang down the curtain on the flexible migration we\u2019d had before.\u201d<\/p>\n

During that tumultuous time, the United States was in the throes of an intense anti-immigrant fervor, stoked by world war, the Russian Revolution, and a budding love affair with eugenics. Anti-Catholicism raged, anti-Semitism simmered, and Americans were gripped by xenophobia. They feared that the masses of Eastern and Southern Europeans streaming into the country would \u201cmongrelize\u201d the nation, undermining its Anglo-Saxon awesomeness with their crude customs and inferior intellects. They fretted that these \u201cundesirables\u201d would remain unassimilated \u201chyphenates\u201d\u2014part American, part something else\u2014for years to come. They worried<\/a> that they would \u201cbe a drain on the resources of America.\u201d And, perhaps most intriguing, they feared that many of these immigrants\u2014Jews and Italians, in particular\u2014were, in fact, stealth Bolsheviks and radicals seeking to flip the country red from the inside.<\/p>\n

As the authors of a famous 1920 congressional report recommending a \u201ctemporary suspension of immigration\u201d wrote<\/a> of the Jews then living in Poland: \u201cIt is impossible to overestimate the peril of the class of emigrants coming from this part of the world, and every possible care and safeguard should be used to keep out the undesirables.\u201d<\/p>\n

Sound familiar? Although the specific targets have changed, some of the language and much of the vitriol spewed at immigrants some 100 years ago wouldn\u2019t be out of place at one of Trump\u2019s \u201cMake America Great Again\u201d rallies, or tumbling from the mouth of his chosen national-security adviser<\/a> or attorney general<\/a>. Then, as now, hypernationalistic figures raged against religious minorities they deemed suspicious, scheming, and potentially disloyal. Then, as now, war abroad stirred up refugee phobias at home. And while there are differences, to be sure\u2014while the past is never simple prelude\u2014then, as is happening again now, the ugly rhetoric quickly gave way to ugly policy.<\/p>\n

Three laws in particular stand out, an unholy trinity that, one by one, narrowed the range of immigrants who were allowed entry via Ellis Island. The first of these laws, the 1917 Immigration Act, attempted to do this by imposing a literacy test on immigrants, barring anyone who couldn\u2019t read, as well as \u201cfeeble-minded persons,\u201d \u201cidiots,\u201d \u201cepileptics,\u201d \u201cpersons likely to become a public charge,\u201d \u201canarchists,\u201d and, most stunningly, almost all immigrants from Asia. When this act failed to stanch the flow\u2014when immigrants like my grandfather kept on coming\u2014Congress passed the Emergency Quota Act of 1921, which restricted immigration to a mere 3 percent of the total number of immigrants from any given country already living in the United States in 1910. And when this act proved insufficient? Congress passed the Johnson-Reed Act of 1924<\/a>, the most stringent of them all, which tightened the quotas to 2 percent of the total immigrants from a given country living here in 1890\u2014a move that effectively slowed immigration to a thin trickle of Nordic and Western Europeans.<\/p>\n

Over the next decades, this new immigration regime would prove devastating for would-be immigrants from a wide swath of countries. For Jews, however, it would prove catastrophic. As the razor wire of fascism tightened around Europe, scores of Jewish men, women, and, yes, children were locked out of this country\u2014and locked into what would soon become a vast killing field. This remained the case even after Kristallnacht<\/em> shattered any illusions that the Nazis wouldn\u2019t launch a program of organized violence against Jews. And it continued even after the Holocaust began, when the United States not only refused to bend the quotas for fleeing Jews but, under the fierce anti-Semitism of State Department officials like Breckinridge Long<\/a>, actively found ways to keep them out. Among the more preposterous yet effective arguments: Jewish immigrants were a potential fifth column, possible plants or spies working for the Nazis.<\/p>\n

Even so, there were Jewish immigrants who managed to find their way into the country during these long years of exclusion. Some got lucky and slipped through the narrow bars of the quota system. Others made their way using the same means that desperate thousands use today when they find the borders of this country closed to them: They turned to \u201csurreptitious or illegal entry,\u201d according to the historian Libby Garland, whose book, After They Closed the Gates<\/a><\/em>, tracks the long-overlooked phenomenon of Jewish illegal immigration to the United States. \u201cThere were people coming in through unguarded places on the long northern and southern border,\u201d Garland explains, as well as via passenger ships from Cuba and Europe, on which they traveled using forged or illicitly procured\u00a0documents. \u201cThere were networks of people who knew how this worked, and they would coach people.\u201d Garland estimates that \u201con the order of tens of thousands\u201d of Jewish immigrants might have slipped into the United States this way\u2014namely, illegally\u2014between 1924 and 1965, when the country finally replaced the 1920s restrictions.<\/p>\n

Still, these Jewish migrants represented the minority. The unfortunate majority remained stuck in Europe, waiting as history goose-stepped relentlessly toward them. \u201cIt\u2019s very possible that if those laws hadn\u2019t been in place, many of the Jews from Germany, Czechoslovakia, Austria, most of the Jews from Poland, would have been saved,\u201d says Hasia Diner<\/a>, professor of Hebrew and Judaic studies and history at New York University.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think,\u201d Diner concludes, \u201cthat one of the most significant events in modern Jewish history was the stoppage of immigration.\u201d<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

It\u2019s likely that we\u2019ll never know the number,\u2028 or full roster of names, of those refugees who sought and failed to find haven in the United States before and during the Holocaust. Yet one survivor whose story still reverberates is a woman named Rae Kushner. Eloquent and soft-spoken, with a sense of sadness but not rancor, Kushner recorded her story<\/a> for the Kean College of New Jersey Holocaust Resource Center in 1982. Delivered in a quiet Yiddish-inflected accent, hers is a tale of devastation and tragedy\u2014of a young woman whose family lived in Eastern Europe before the war and, finding that \u201cthe door was closed\u201d to the United States and elsewhere, ended up victims of the Nazis. But it\u2019s also a tale of stunning perseverance, in which a teenage girl managed to survive the brutality of the ghetto, the death of half of her immediate family, the white-gloved sadism of her German tormentors, and a year of fear and exposure in the vast Naliboki forest. As she said in the interview: \u201cIt\u2019s just miracles that we are alive.\u201d<\/p>\n

I watched the full two-hour sweep of Kushner\u2019s interview for the first time in December, and it has lingered with me ever since. But if it echoes a little more loudly these days, it\u2019s because she also happened to be the grandmother of Jared Kushner, now a senior White House adviser once described as the Trump campaign\u2019s \u201cfinal decision-maker<\/a>.\u201d Jared, of course, is also married to Ivanka Trump, which makes him Trump\u2019s son-in-law\u2014and that makes Rae Kushner\u2019s story, with its threads of persecution and exclusion, part of Trump\u2019s own extended-family story, too.<\/p>\n

As Rae Kushner described it in the Kean College interview, her story begins in 1923, when she was born in the small town of Novogrudok, in what was then northern Poland and today is Belarus. The daughter of a furrier\u2014her father owned two stores, which sold men\u2019s hats\u2014Kushner lived what she called \u201ca comfortable life, a quiet life,\u201d with her parents, two sisters, and younger brother. They were not rich, she said, but the children were all educated at private Jewish schools, and her oldest sister even attended college. Although the town\u2019s Jews numbered just 6,000, their world was nonetheless a vital one, a community filled with synagogues, schools, hospitals, and \u201ca nice cultural life.\u201d<\/p>\n

By the mid-1930s, however, the family had begun to sense the first rumblings of trouble. \u201c[W]e felt the anti-Semitism, we felt that it\u2019s coming\u2026 something,\u201d Kushner said in the interview. This sense that \u201csomething\u201d was brewing was strong enough that a few\u00a0of\u00a0her father\u2019s friends left for Palestine and urged her father to \u201csell everything\u201d and get out, too. The problem, said Kushner, is that \u201cwe didn\u2019t have where to run.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know how hard [it] was to get a visa to Israel\u2026,\u201d she explained, referring, obliquely, to the British policies that restricted Jewish migration to British-controlled Palestine (and to the United Kingdom itself). \u201cTo America, very hard. If you sent papers, you\u2019d wait for two, three years till you get a visa at that time.\u201d<\/p>\n

Despite these obstacles, it seems from a brief exchange during the interview that her family did make some sort of effort\u00a0to get to the United States. \u201cSo your family, your father, actually was making attempts in 1935, \u201936?\u201d the interviewer, Dr. Sidney Langer, asks Kushner a few minutes into the interview. And she answers, \u201cYeah, he had a sister here in United States, my father. And we tried\u2026but we couldn\u2019t do nothing.\u201d So they remained in Novogrudok, first as the Soviets invaded and then, in 1941, as the Germans descended on the town and \u201ctook us over.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kushner\u2019s description of her family\u2019s years under Nazi occupation is harrowing, and the full scope of what she experienced deserves to be heard in her own words, not simply mediated through a journalist. What can be said, however, is that during several years of unremitting horror, she lost her mother, her older sister, and her younger brother, along with thousands upon thousands of neighbors, friends, and extended family, as the Novogrudok ghetto was whittled from roughly 30,000 Jews to 350. The only way she, her father, and her younger sister managed to survive was by escaping from the ghetto in 1943 through a hand-dug tunnel\u2014one through which all the remaining Jews attempted to crawl to freedom. Many didn\u2019t survive once they made it to the other side, but, miraculously, Kushner, her father, and her sister did\u2014and were eventually rescued by the legendary Jewish partisan Tuvia Bielski. For a year, they lived in the forest with Bielski\u2019s brigade of more than 1,000 Jews until, in the spring of 1944, \u201che brought us out from the woods.\u201d Novogrudok had been liberated by the Soviets.<\/p>\n

In the Hollywood version of Kushner\u2019s story, this is almost certainly where it would end: with liberation. But for Kushner and her family, like so many other survivors, the trauma lasted several more years, as the family sought a safe place to rebuild their lives. Novogrudok, once again under Soviet control, wasn\u2019t an easy place for Jews\u2014\u201cwe had different troubles,\u201d Kushner said\u2014and, moreover, \u201cwe were broken, broken down.\u201d So she and her surviving family, along with her soon-to-be-husband Yossel (later, Joseph), decided to leave. But they again faced the problem that had thwarted them a decade earlier when, sensing the rising threat of anti-Semitism, they had contemplated leaving Novogrudok. \u201cNobody opened the door for us,\u201d Kushner recalled. \u201cNobody wanted to take us in.\u201d<\/p>\n

Without a country to accept them, the family landed in a displaced-persons camp in Italy, where they lived three or four families to a room for three and a half years. They hoped to get visas to go to the United States, where they had family, but visas were not forthcoming. \u201cWe got depressed in the DP camp\u2026,\u201d Kushner stated. \u201cA year, six months\u2014but three and a half years!\u201d It was in this camp, she added, that she gave birth to her first child.<\/p>\n

For this lengthy wait, the Kushners could thank the enduring anti-Semitism of both Eastern and Western European countries, which had little desire to roll out the welcome mat for some of the Nazis\u2019 most beleaguered survivors. But the United States also \u201cshut its doors tight,\u201d says David Nasaw, professor of history at the CUNY Graduate Center, whose current research examines the fate of displaced persons in Germany after the war. Anti-Semitism was certainly part of the equation, but so too were Cold War fantasies about infiltrating communists, among whom Jews\u2014long associated with leftists and radicals\u2014were all too easily lumped. \u201cCongressmen say, over and over again, \u2018They\u2019re coming out of Poland, so these Jews are communists or spies,\u2019\u201d Nasaw observes.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t until 1948, when Congress passed the Displaced Persons Act, that the country began cracking open the door to these desperate immigrants. Yet even that gesture was troubled. Larded with a series of cumbersome provisions\u2014including the somewhat inexplicable requirement that 30 percent of the visas go to farmers\u2014the measure was considered so deeply biased against Jewish as well as Catholic immigrants that, even as he signed the act, President Harry Truman denounced it<\/a> as \u201cflagrantly discriminatory.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor all practical purposes,\u201d Truman wrote in his signing statement, \u201cit must be frankly recognized\u2026that this bill excludes Jewish displaced persons, rather than accepting a fair proportion of them along with other faiths.\u201d<\/p>\n

Despite such hurdles, the Kushners finally did make it to the United States, in 1949. They settled in New York City, worked hard, had a family, made a life for themselves. They pushed on. Still, their difficult and tortuous journey to this country seems to have stayed with Rae Kushner years after she\u2019d put down roots, first in Brooklyn and later in New Jersey. As she lamented toward the end of the Kean College interview, during one of the rare moments her voice rises with a sense of betrayal: \u201cFor everybody [there] was a place\u2026but for the Jews, the doors were closed. We never can understand this. Even our good President Roosevelt, how come he kept the doors so closed for us, for such a long time? How come a boat [the SS St. Louis<\/em>] went for exodus on the water and returned back to be killed? This question I\u2019ll never know, and nobody will give me the answer.\u201d<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

We don\u2019t need the horrors of the past to \u2028validate the outrages of the present, to tell us that today\u2019s swirl of xenophobia, locked borders, and scapegoating is wrong. Their injustice is self-evident. Still, as a pathologically cynical president resurrects some of the worst demons of this country\u2019s past (and injects new energy into others that never died), history remains a powerful prod for thinking and acting in the present. It\u2019s among the reasons a group of more than 240 Jewish historians, drawing on knowledge both scholarly and personal, vowed<\/a> in a public letter issued shortly after the election \u201cto resist any attempts to place a vulnerable group in the crosshairs of nativist racism.\u201d And it\u2019s why a dozen Jewish organizations declared<\/a> in their recent open letter to Donald Trump that they are \u201ccommitted to defending our country\u2019s identity as a land of refuge.\u201d To their ears, as to so many others, Trump\u2019s attacks on refugees and immigrants smack all too painfully of the past, appealing to an old form of prejudice, resurrected and displaced onto a new era of migrants.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Harry Ratner at age 6, center, with his brother Max and sister Dora in 1908.<\/p><\/div>\n

\u201cThe blatant discrimination that we\u2019re hearing right now, that\u2019s very much like what we were seeing in 1921,\u201d says Mark Hetfield, the president and CEO of HIAS<\/a>, a refugee advocacy and resettlement agency that was founded in 1881 to help Jews escaping the pogroms in Russia and Eastern Europe. \u201cI really thought that part of [this country\u2019s] history was behind us and that we would no longer discriminate\u2014certainly not so openly\u2014on the basis of religion, and we wouldn\u2019t turn prejudice into policy like we did in the 1920s. But here we are talking about doing that. I never thought I would see this in my lifetime.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hetfield has been in the refugee trenches for more than a quarter-century, most of the time at HIAS, and his work for the organization has given him a broad lens through which to view today\u2019s Trump-enhanced nativism. Founded as the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society, HIAS is well known among American Jews as the primary agency that aided Jewish refugees throughout the 20th century\u2014including the Kushners and my own family. In recent years, however, the organization has shifted its focus to aiding refugees from all religions and backgrounds. As Hetfield explains: \u201cThe way we describe ourselves is that we used to resettle refugees because they<\/em> were Jewish; now we resettle refugees because we<\/em> are Jewish.\u201d<\/p>\n

It\u2019s in the service of this new mission, Hetfield says, that he\u2019s been startled to hear the kind of dehumanizing charges once hurled at Jews now being flung at Muslims, Mexicans, and other refugees and immigrants. \u201cIt\u2019s heartbreaking to hear the rhetoric today,\u201d he admits, lamenting the demonization that has cast these groups as a kind of \u201cfaceless threat\u201d invading from the south and east.<\/p>\n

When I asked Hetfield how we can properly respond to this moment\u2014and how Jewish experience should inform that response\u2014he was quick to answer, citing both text and history. He spoke of the ancient commandment to \u201clove the stranger as yourself, because you were strangers once in the land of Egypt\u201d\u2014a notion so \u201cintegral\u201d that it gets repeated, in one form or another, 36 times in the Torah. And he spoke of the long Jewish experience of seeking refuge in foreign lands. \u201cWe have such a long history of having to flee places, such a long history of persecution.\u2026 So for us to say, \u2018OK, we\u2019re safe, now they can close the doors\u2019\u2014it\u2019s just morally reprehensible to think that way.\u201d His conclusion: \u201cWe have to speak out and say it\u2019s unacceptable.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ninety-six years after my grandfather arrived from Bialystok, the story of his journey\u2014of his illegal but impeccably timed emigration from Poland\u2014remains defining yet largely invisible to the world around me. As do so many stories from that era. Once maligned, we descendants of last century\u2019s \u201cundesirable\u201d immigrants are now unquestioned Americans, waltzing through this country as journalists, lawyers, social workers, real-estate developers, and, yes, White House senior advisers. That my grandfather was once part of that class of foreigners dismissed as \u201cfilthy,\u201d \u201cun-American,\u201d \u201cabnormally twisted,\u201d \u201cphysically deficient,\u201d and \u201cpotentially dangerous in their habits\u201d\u2014to quote that infamous 1920 congressional report\u2014has largely been forgotten. The old slurs no longer follow us.<\/p>\n

But they do follow others, slapped on by the president and his supporters, who have smeared today\u2019s immigrants and refugees as \u201crapists,\u201d \u201cmurderers,\u201d carriers of \u201ctremendous infectious disease,\u201d and a \u201cTrojan horse.\u201d And now they\u2019re turning those smears into policy, using them to justify orders that break up families and exclude vast, diverse, and often desperate groups of people. For those keen on exclusion, such justifications will seem convincing. But as surely as the anti-immigrant policies of the early 20th century would prove both baseless and destructive, today\u2019s acts will unleash cruelties and consequences against the would-be immigrants of our own era that we will long regret.<\/p>\n

___________________________________<\/p>\n

February 20, 2017, Issue<\/a> <\/em><\/p>\n

Full disclosure: As the owner of\u00a0<\/em>The New York Observer\u00a0during the last year the author worked there in the mid-2000s, Jared Kushner was, if indirectly, her\u00a0boss. Under unrelated circumstances, Mr. Kushner’s wife, Ivanka Trump, worked for a year for one of the\u00a0author’s relatives.<\/em><\/p>\n

Lizzy Ratner is a senior editor at <\/em>The Nation.<\/em><\/p>\n

Go to Original \u2013 thenation.com<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

As Trump bars refugees and Muslim immigrants from coming to this country, it\u2019s worth remembering the Jews who were shut out the last time we closed our borders\u2014like Jared Kushner\u2019s grandmother. A new article takes a sweeping look at history to find what it portends.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[65],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-86377","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-anglo-america"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/86377","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=86377"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/86377\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=86377"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=86377"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=86377"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}