A Sheep in Wolves' Clothing.

During the height of the Great Depression, Rachel Berry, unemployed and with limited options, made a desperate choice that brought her fame and fortune while forcing romance out of the equation. What would she do when the man of her dreams came along and she could neither encourage his feelings nor reciprocate her own?


By now, everybody is familiar with "Victor/Victoria", Blake Edwards' 1982 film starring his wife, the legendary Julie Andrews. The plot was actually based on a lesser known movie from 1935, "First A Girl" (by Victor Saville), starring the lovely Jessie Matthews. For those who are unaware, Ms. Matthews was a huge star in England during the 1930's, often referred to as "The Dancing Divinity" (check her out on YouTube). Actually, that movie was, in fact, derived from a 1933 German production"Viktor und Viktoria", which was directed by Reinhold Schünzel and starring Renate Müller (yes, I know…"who?").

Considering that four of Shakespeare's plays feature women pretending to be men…which were actually men pretending to be women pretending to be men, this has been a recurring theme in literature and the theater, and will continue to be, as long as we find humor in dressing up like someone we are not and trying to convince the rest of the word otherwise.

In any case, the bare bones of the story aren't mine and the characters belong to Mr. Ryan Murphy, to whom we owe prodigious thanks. The back stories, any original characters, and variations on the theme are mine. If I accidentally selected the name of somebody out there, it's purely coincidental, and no harm is intended.

That being said, and knowing that the ultimate resolution of this story is a given, please keep in mind that it's not about the destination, but rather, the journey. Now, on with the show…

P.S. Please be patient…Puck/Noah doesn't show up for the first few chapters.


Chapter 1

"Thank you for auditioning, Miss Berry," the casting director dismissed her without so much as a glance in her direction.

It was early November, and Rachel Berry was cold, tired, and frustrated. It had always been her dream to appear on the Broadway stage; her father insisted that her education came first, and she reluctantly became the first person in her small family to obtain a college degree, graduating in the spring of 1928 at the top of her class. That fall, she became employed as a second grade teacher, a position she had held for the past five years. Whenever an opportunity caught her eye, she would hurry off after school to audition, never fully relinquishing her dream of being in the spotlight, much to her father's dismay.


Hiram Berry, nee Berdichevsky, was born in a small village on the outskirts of Kiev, Russia. From a young age, he had a natural talent with a needle and thread, and he was apprenticed to a local tailor. As he became a young man, his skills enabled him to fashion garments for both men and women, and his talents were not lost on the eligible young women of his community. He was tall, attractive, and affable, and his parents hoped he might select a wife from among his many admirers. However, he showed little interest in pursuing such a match, so a wife was selected for him.

Sophia Kalashnikova was a lovely young woman from a neighboring village with a voice that (so it was said) came straight from the angels. She was a dreamer with her head in the clouds, so, although she was quite attractive, she wasn't the most practical of women, making her less desirable to most men, who preferred a more down-to-earth (if less comely) life partner. Their parents came to an agreement, the banns were announced, and Hiram and Sophia were married (with little fanfare and to the great relief of their families) in the spring of 1904.

Russia in the early 20th Century was not the safest environment for the Jews, and like many young men and women, Hiram and Sophia packed up their few belongings and boarded a ship bound for the United States, the land of freedom and opportunity. They were the first in their families to leave for America and did so reluctantly (but hopefully), looking forward to the future of a better tomorrow.

Upon reaching Ellis Island, their name was Americanized to "Berry", and they settled in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, along with many other immigrants, all striving for a piece of the American Dream. Hiram began by working out of their tiny apartment, providing tailoring and alteration services as well as making dresses when requested. As it was in Russia, his work was well-regarded, and he soon caught the eye of Mr. Joseph Levine, a local merchant.

Mr. Levine owned a small dry-goods store and was looking to expand his business into ladies' garments. Hiram gratefully accepted the opportunity for additional work, as he and Sophia had found out that they were going to be parents. In April of 1907, they were blessed with a daughter, whom they named Rachel. She was the image of her mother, inheriting both her looks and her beautiful singing voice.

Sophia, always a dreamer, was bored keeping house and raising a family. Although she tended to Rachel's needs and never neglected her daughter, she was, at best, an indifferent mother. Added into the mix was the fact that her sex life with Hiram was almost non-existent, and she secretly believed that even if he had never acted upon it, he preferred the (sexual) company of other men over women.

As soon as Rachel was old enough, she accompanied her mother to the movies and the local Vaudeville houses, where they would sit in the cheapest seats, mesmerized by the performances. Rachel was captivated by the action and the music, by the pretty dresses that the ladies wore and even the reaction of the audience. Unfortunately, Rachel wasn't the only one who was entranced by the theatrical milieu.

In the summer of 1911, Hiram returned home to an empty apartment with a letter addressed to him propped up on the dining room table. In it, Sophia explained that he would find Rachel in the care Mrs. Goldberg, their upstairs neighbor, and she was leaving with one Johnny Corcoran, a (mediocre) song-and-dance man she had met at the Vaudeville theater on an occasion when she had not been accompanied by her daughter. He had praised her voice and promised her a career on the stage, and she was eager to leave her humdrum life behind. She encouraged Hiram to obtain a Get (A.N. a Jewish divorce) so he could move on with his life, and told him that although she loved Rachel, she knew that Hiram was by far the better parent. She had also enclosed a small broach that had been her mother's with instructions to give it to Rachel when she turned 18.

Surprisingly, Rachel adapted quickly to her motherless existence, and the woman was seldom, if ever, mentioned again. Mr. Levine's business thrived, and he invited Hiram to become his partner, opening up a women's clothing store "Levine and Berry". Business was good, and in 1918 Hiram was able to afford better living quarters than the Tenements provided, along with better opportunities for Rachel. Not only did she excel at school, her impressive vocal gifts were not lost on her classmates and teachers, and she was encouraged to participate in the choral and dramatic programs. Although Hiram was proud of her accomplishments, he was also concerned that she might follow her mother's lead and opt for a life on the stage instead of a more comfortable, commonplace existence as a Jewish wife and mother.

After World War I, it became more widely accepted for young women to pursue an education beyond high school. Hiram decided that a university degree would be just the thing to keep his daughter occupied with more practical endeavors, and she was enrolled in The College of the City of New York with the goal of becoming a teacher.

Upon gaining employment, and with her father's severe misgivings, she moved into a boarding house close to the school in which she taught. The tenants were an eclectic mix of primarily younger single people, several of whom were also teachers. The owner was a motherly widow who served Kosher meals with a side of gossip and a soupcon of (primarily) well-intentioned meddling. It was here that Rachel first met Kurt Hummel, who was employed as an art teacher at the same school and quickly became her close friend and confidant.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on one's perspective), one month into the fall semester of the 1933-34 school year, her teaching career was abruptly ended due to fallout from the Great Depression. Classes were doubled up and budgets slashed, and many teachers found themselves unceremoniously fired. It briefly crossed Rachel's mind that, of the seven teachers let go at her school, three of them were Jewish (and the only Jewish teachers employed there), two were of Italian descent, one had a distinctly Irish last name and a slight brogue, and one (Kurt) had decidedly effeminate mannerisms and never mentioned courting any women. However, she preferred to look on the bright side and focus all of her efforts on a career in the theater. It was of the utmost urgency that this occur as soon as possible, before her meager savings dried up and she was forced to move back home in disappointment and defeat.


Rachel stood on the stage, her head reeling at yet another rejection. If nothing else, she was going to leave understanding why she had been so summarily dismissed. "With all due respect, Sir," she politely (but firmly) spoke from her current vantage point, "I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know why I'm not receiving a call back. Several of the others have been invited for a second audition, and I know my voice was as good, if not better than theirs."

The casting director was taken a bit aback; after all, the girls usually left wordlessly. Rachel had been polite rather than defensive in standing her ground, and he decided to provide the feedback she had requested…he just needed to find the right words. "You're right, Miss Berry, your voice is lovely, and you seem to have good stage presence. Unfortunately, you aren't the 'type' we're looking for."

Rachel felt confused; the majority of those invited back were not much taller than she was, and although a couple of them had blonde hair, three or four others were brunettes like her. "I don't understand, Sir," she respectfully replied. "Several of the girls were similar in stature to me, and also had dark hair."

The director rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, searching for the best way to explain. "Miss Berry, I don't quite know how else to put this, but…well, your look is just too 'specific'…"

"'Too specific'?" Rachel repeated (as calmly as she could), "Don't you mean 'too Jewish'? What about Fanny Brice and Vivienne Segal?"

The director looked at Rachel calmly, doing his best to be inoffensive, "My dear Miss Berry, Fanny Brice is known primarily as a comedienne, and you are far too pretty to be considered in that light. Vivienne Segal, on the other hand, isn't obviously 'ethnic', and most people aren't any the wiser. Please don't take any offense, Miss Berry, but have you considered rhinoplasty?"

Although highly offended by his implication, Rachel maintained her composure, simply answering, "Thank you for the suggestion, sir, but that would be out of the question."

The man cleared his throat before continuing, "Well, all I can tell you, and, please don't take this the wrong way, but the general public wouldn't pay to see a Jewish girl end up with the handsome, seemingly Christian leading man. I'd offer you a part in the chorus, but all of the girls are much taller, and you'd stand out like a sore thumb. I'm really sorry; you're a very talented young woman. I wish you the best of luck." He turned his focus to the man seated next to him, and Rachel, realizing that he had nothing further to share on the subject, retreated from the stage, gathered her belongings, and left the theater for her walk to the subway that would take her home for the night.

Regardless of her disappointment, Rachel understood his perspective on some level; much as her father would not want her to marry outside of her faith, she imagined that non-Jewish parents would be similarly upset at the same situation, no doubt turning an innocuous musical comedy into a divisive political statement that she had no desire to make.


Author's Notes: Well…what do you think?

Regarding the names selected, they are not family names; at least, not my family. My maternal grandmother's family did come from Kiev, however.

If you're unfamiliar, Vivienne Segal was a musical comedy star of the 'teens – 40s. She was known for her lovely soprano voice, as well as her physical beauty. She appeared in several Rodgers and Hart shows; rumor has it that Lorenz Hart proposed to her, hoping that she would be able to "cure" his homosexuality. Although she loved him as a friend, fortunately, she was wise enough to turn him down.