Antisemitism came home today.
My son called to tell me he had quit his job, where he had worked for two years. I knew he wasn’t particularly happy, that they weren’t giving him the opportunities they’d promised, that the hours were long and the pay not great, but I asked anyway – Why did you quit?
“Because I am tired of all the antisemitic comments,” he said. I was shocked. That was the first I’d heard of this. What are you talking about? I asked. And he told me — outlining one example after another. He’d brought it to his supervisor, but that only exacerbated the situation. He then shared a photo from a group text posted by one of his colleagues, depicting the supervisor in an AI-generated Nazi uniform. That day, my son was listening to music while he was working, and one of his co-workers came over and said, “You look like you’re wearing a yarmulke with those headphones.” Ha! Ha! The last straw.
My heart breaks for my son. I want to go to that workplace and give his supervisor a piece of my mind as only a New Yorker can. But he is a grown man, and this may well be something he will have to deal with long after I am gone.
It’s been getting scary for a while. Since October 7, 2023, I have been reading a lot of holocaust literature, and since then, I have been saying that it’s starting to feel like Berlin in 1939.
Starting with October 7th, in a shockingly quick cultural shift, it was suddenly acceptable to openly hate Israel and hate Jews. Jewish students at prestigious universities were openly harassed and barred from attending classes, and nothing was done. Democratic members of Congress loudly and proudly put antisemitism on their platforms. An openly antisemitic candidate was elected mayor of New York City. Jews are hated by the right and by the left. Imagine that!
So here we are, a new generation of Jews facing the unthinkable.
I grew up in New York during the Golden Age of Judaism, when you wore your Star of David proudly and thought nothing of it. Where public schools were closed on Jewish holidays, and Jewish food and culture were everywhere. I moved to Georgia 14 years ago, with a vague concern about guns and Jesus. And while I felt a bit like a stranger in a strange land, I never experienced any hostility of any kind.
Can it happen again, here? I don’t know, but I do know it’s gone too far to ignore. Gone too far to pretend it doesn’t exist. Gone too far to say that it can’t happen here. It’s time to face this new reality. Time to speak up. Time to start putting up a fight. Can it happen here? I don’t know. But I do know this. If I go, it will not be quietly.
Will you join me?
