Hiding in Plain Sight
Dear Leading Ladies,
So here’s the thing about antisemitism in America. It’s always been here. When some of us were growing up in the 50s and 60s, there were neighborhoods where Jews couldn’t buy homes or join certain country clubs. Colleges and universities had quotas on the number of Jewish students who could be admitted. It was not unusual for Jewish children to be accused by their Christian friends of killing Christ. Or for a Christian boy to tell his girlfriend he couldn’t take her home to meet his family because she was Jewish.
Jewish parents, though they might choose to raise their families in neighborhoods with Christians, tended to socialize only with other Jewish families. A chat over the back fence was fine, but you could count on one hand the number of times a Christian neighbor was invited in for coffee or dinner.
Separate by choice?
Was this snobbism or religious separatism? Hardly. It was fear and distrust. These Jewish parents had lived through World War II. While some were refugees who survived the Holocaust and the horrors of Hitler’s attempts to extinguish the whole of European Jewry, most had spent the war on our shores, amid the rabid anti-semitism of their own country. They lived amidst the very pervasive attitude that the Jews living in peril in Europe should not be admitted to the US. They were not our problem and we did not want them — or so the thinking went. Not surprising, since a poll from 1939 found that fewer than 40 percent of Americans believed Jews should be treated “as any other Americans,” according to the Anti-Defamation League (ADL).
Photo from ADL. Ca 1940s, though restrictive policies continued into the 1960s.
No wonder Jewish parents stuck to themselves. The prejudice and hate that punctuated the war years was barely in their rear view mirrors. Whom could they trust? Who could be a real friend? Who would turn on them if life and death were on the line again?
Jeenah Moon/Getty Images
Assimilation in the late 60s and 70s seemed to coincide with a diminution of antisemitism, and American Jews let their guard down. As Jews were allowed to be partners in prestigious law firms and executives in large companies, to live where they wanted, and enter national politics in unprecedented numbers, life in the US seemed more secure. Intermarriage rates rose, and both Jewish and Christian parents sometimes accommodated, though often with trepidation. The Jewish children of parents who lived through the war developed strong friendships and lifelong partnerships with non-Jews. Sure, they would hear the occasional distasteful joke or an expression like, “I Jewed him down to get a great price,” but it was considered bad form to be explicitly antisemitic.
Until now.
Now, our former president dines with an avowed antisemite and a Holocaust denier. Fellow Republicans either ignore the obscenity of this behavior or offer a lukewarm rebuke. Defenders offer Trump’s support of Israel as worth the cost.
The former president, starting with his first campaign, unlocked the collective filter on racism and antisemitism. He did not create feelings of hate, superiority, entitlement, and righteous privilege. Those feelings were there. He just keeps encouraging them to flourish.
No wonder Jewish parents – and Black parents, and Asian parents, and Latino parents – will always remain a bit circumspect, wary, and apart from their white, Christian neighbors. Once you understand the feelings that some keep from expressing but hold inside, it becomes difficult to feel secure outside your ethnic, religious, or racial group. Being the other is tiring and depressing.
What can we do?
Be informed. A very readable, but complete, explanation and definition of antisemitism can be read here.
If, in your hearts, you feel and believe all Americans – Black, indigenous, Latino, Muslim, Jewish, and more – deserve equal seats at the table, teach your children and grandchildren by example. “You’ve got to be taught to hate and fear…all the people your relatives hate,” according to the song from “South Pacific.” If that is true, then the converse is also. Let’s teach our children to be curious about, respectful and admiring of, humble and equitable with those whose parents or grandparents or great grandparents may come from a different part of the world, speak a different language, or adhere to a different set of spiritual beliefs.
Make sure the organizations, schools, and clubs you belong to are equally accessible to people of all races, religions, and ethnicities. If not, quit. But not before making some noise.
At this time of year, a little awareness can make a difference. If you don’t know what someone celebrates, say, “I hope you have a wonderful holiday!” Being wished a Merry Christmas when you don’t celebrate Christmas is far from offensive, but it does feel like a denial of other ways to be American.
And, if you are not Jewish, let your Jewish friends know that you stand with them during this difficult time of antisemitism, just as you have supported Asian and Pacific Islanders, Black and Latino friends and colleagues.
It is always difficult to call out hate when you see it, especially when you are in a social situation. But when someone makes an anti-semitic joke or remark in a group of mostly Christians, and no one calls it out, think how it feels to the one Jewish person who is there, listening, feeling totally alone, unsupported by her friends. Of course, the same holds for racist or homophobic or any remarks that perpetuate stereotypes and negative images.
Last year, documented reports of harassment, vandalism and violence directed against Jews reached the highest level on record, according to the ADL, which has been tracking incidents since 1979. The ADL expects 2022 to look much the same.The rise of antisemitic messaging on Twitter, since its sale to Elon Musk, is exponential. Hate is alive and in full view in America.
The Talmud, the book of Jewish religious law, advises, “At a time when the community is suffering, no one should say, ‘I will go home, eat, drink and be at peace with myself.’” We need every person to join the fight to end bigotry and discrimination in all its ugly forms.
Therese (she/her/hers)
Judy (she/her/hers)
Didi (she/her/hers)
Mackenzie (she/her/hers)
Leading Ladies Executive Team
Leadingladiesvote.org
ladies@leadingladiesvote.org