I did not know that.

Years ago I heard someone use the term yid as slang for Jew. I inferred that it was derogatory slang but have never been certain. I never considered the etymology.

In The Jewish Dilemma by Joel Kotkin, he quotes Sholem Aleichem:

Es iz schwer tzu sein a yid.

- It is hard to be a Jew.

So there's the etymology. Yid is the Yiddish word for Jew. I am kind of surprised in both directions; that yid is Yiddish for Jew but also that the language Yiddish basically translates as Jewish. I guess the second surprise arises from my custom of thinking of Yiddish as a dialect of German (which it is.)

From Wikipedia.

The word Yid (/ˈjiːd/; Yiddish: ייִד‎) is a Jewish ethnonym of Yiddish origin. It is used as an autonym within the Ashkenazi Jewish community, and also used as slang by European football fans, anti-semites, and others. Its usage may be controversial in modern English language. It is not usually considered offensive when pronounced /ˈjiːd/ (rhyming with deed), the way Yiddish speakers say it, though some may deem the word offensive nonetheless. When pronounced /ˈjɪd/ (rhyming with did) by non-Jews, it is commonly intended as a pejorative term. It is used as a derogatory epithet by antisemites along with, and as an alternative to, the English word 'Jew'.

So I was right to infer a possible negative connotation but cannot be certain because it would depend on the specifics. I first heard it when I was in school in the New York area and think it was from some Jewish friends. If that was the context, then it was perhaps simply a colloquial autonym. However, if whomever I heard it from was not Jewish, then it might have been derogatory. Those details are lost in time.

Still, I am kind of surprised to not have known any of this. I am interested in and read a fair amount of language and linguistics texts. I have a lot of Jewish friends including many in the New York area, a traditional reservoir of Yiddish, and read enough German to have occasionally scanned Yiddish texts.

I recall the thrill of recognition when, sometime in the late seventies, I was walking down some Manhattan street behind three young Yeshiva students talking between themselves and overhearing their conversation. I had heard of Yiddish and knew that was what they were speaking but up until that moment I had not realized that Yiddish was a dialect of German and finding that I could understand what they were saying.

We should never ignore how much we can blithely not know. Or, at least, I should not ignore it.