Like so many others of our Jewish community, I fully realize that there’s only one thing for all of us to concentrate on now: antisemitism. One local rabbi plus the director of one of our major Jewish organizations have made their own assessments public with long and detailed recent opinion pieces in our local daily paper, to be read by many who may not even have thought about antisemitism before. So I’m dipping my own pen this week into the same black ink for you, my very special Jewish reading audience.
We probably don’t need all the background information. Whether directly touched by it or not at all, we’ve lived all our lives under this blackest of clouds. So I’m thankful that their words reached a much larger and wider audience, and I hope were read with understanding by many people, so many of whom may never had much prior knowledge of antisemitism — maybe even none at all. But there’s no other topic for discussion now.
I was gratified to see the two writers’ reactions to, and their opinions about, the frighteningly hateful invasion of a small synagogue right here in our neighborhood. They’ve brought important messages to the previously uneducated — and maybe previously uninterested — readers on this topic that is now stressing for us our own prior views of what may really be the most important factor in our Jewish lives. Because it’s finally landed here, after affecting so many “theres”: the black plague of hate always before hanging low over our heads. Yes, we’ve recognized it, have known it, but have basically accepted it, never really considering that it might someday hit us personally. We can’t do that any longer. We’ve been prepared for what to do in an emergency like this most recent one, but we somehow “knew in our hearts” it would never happen to us. Yet, it has. That’s the saddest lesson of the Holocaust: We may be safer now than Jews were then, but how can we be sure? “Little” antisemitic acts are small persecutions: We’re grateful when they’re over, with no harm caused that’s beyond repair — or that’s how it seems. But that’s looking backward. We have to look ahead, because “little” things give antisemites permission to move forward. And so they do…
Our directly affected rabbi has shown us that education and preparation pay off. But now we face the harder work of turning our education and preparation toward ridding our world of the reasons for needing them.
Many years ago, when I was a teenager shoe-shopping with friends, the salesman became annoyed because he couldn’t seem to find anything that would both fit me physically and suit me otherwise. And I’ve never forgotten what he said: Noticing my necklace, he made my honest need into a weapon of hate: “You Star of David girls are never satisfied with anything!” But then, I never said a word.…
Today, one rabbi and one Jewish professional in our community knew what to say, and have said it publicly. I hope a loud chorus of others will join them in educating all Americans about what is truly a disease that festers among many who have troubles and unmet needs of their own, and find our people to blame as the scapegoat source for them. Let’s unite to learn together more than we have already learned about physical handling of tough situations. Let’s face all antisemitic situations, including those “little” ones that we tend to ignore, with the powers of knowledge and bravery, and the proud love of who and what we are…
Harriet Gross can be reached at
harrietgross1@gmail.com.