Hebrew Word of the Week:
Truthfully, I have been falling behind on my studies. But I heard the word for terrorist (mechabel / מחבל) quite a lot this week when I watched One Day in October on HBO Max. Tough to watch, but highly recommend.
October 7th has made me a different Jew.
One who pays more attention to security when walking into synagogue, and notices when there is none.
One who has gotten yelled at on the street for wearing a t-shirt that calls to bring home innocent people who have been held in captivity by terrorists.
One who, when walking down the street filming her weekly “Shabbat Shalom (hey!)” video for Instagram, looks over her shoulder in case anyone hears.
One who posts about Jewish joy, and gets comments either ranting about her DNA that supposedly says she’s a white European woman, or telling her to pick up a penny on the ground.
One who wants to bond over Eurovision with Europeans while on vacation, but doesn’t want to ruin the vibe like last time.
One who was told to not tell anyone I’m Jewish while traveling.
One who is generally uncomfortable when meeting new people now, because she never knows if they agree that Jews deserve safety and a right to self-determination like everyone else.1
One who, when making a non-Jewish friend, wonders, “Okay but when am I going to get all Jewish on them? And how much? How much is too much?”2
One who lost her best friend because the friend prioritized ideology over love.
One who is getting used to listening to a new artist, only to have her heart broken by their performative anger and double standards when it comes to morality.
One who meets a Jew and is never entirely sure if they’re going to get along or understand each other.
One who is saddened by the increasing divisiveness within the Jewish community.3
One who wonders what you mean by Free Palestine.
One who wonders if you know what you mean by Free Palestine.
One who can’t help but wonder what your watermelon earrings mean.
One who no longer cares for Susan Sarandon. That’s fine.
One who will never get used to seeing swastikas drawn in her neighborhood.
One who is now apprehensive of saying where she works for fear of pushback.
One who suddenly considers Jewish issues when voting in a way she never has before.
One who tenses up around progressives. And Gen Zs. And people with purple-dyed hair. Working on it!
One who just doesn’t feel comfortable in liberal spaces anymore, even though she’s a liberal at heart.
One who finally understands the warning signs of antisemitism on the left she’s heard so much about for a decade.
One who became aware of the propaganda she was fed in her Israel education, and also doesn’t feel quite at home in pro-Israel circles whose members don’t question anything.
One who wonders when the Jewish people will heal.
And yet…
At the same time, October 7th has made me a prouder Jew.
One who confidently walks into synagogue and thanks the security team.
One who sees that it’s imperative to keep wearing a Magen David despite conversations or questions that may arise from it.
One who is grateful for wearing it (and “Jewess” earrings!) because of all the words of encouragement and support from strangers.
One who films weekly “Shabbat Shalom (hey!)” videos and still sometimes looks around, only because she doesn’t want to seem like an annoying influencer.
One who posts about Jewish joy, and gets comments from Jews (and allies) all over the world sharing pictures of their homemade challah and stories of their adult b-mitzvahs.
One who has made online friends from Jewish Substack, and in-person friends from local Jewish communities.
One who watches Israel perform on the international stage and win 2nd place despite all the hate, propaganda, and pressure.
One who answered “yes” when asked if she’s Jewish while traveling, and made new friends in a Croatian cemetery because of it.
One who tries to strike up a conversation with every stranger, and sees any potential uncomfortable encounter as either an educational opportunity, or a chance to practice empathy and courage.
One who is inspired to learn as much as she can so that she can confidently educate.
One who has new celebrities, like Pink, to turn to for inspiration (even though she still doesn’t like her music).
One who knows how to properly report swastikas and doesn’t let a sighting ruin her day.
One who openly explains her work, and how it includes supporting Jewish educators in teaching all of Israel’s nuances and complexities.
One who values friends with whom she can respectfully disagree.
One who is more easily able to let go of relationships that no longer serve her.
One who votes for politicians who share her values, including Jewish safety.
One who is grateful for Western values.
One who recognizes the importance of learning from history more than ever before.
One who didn’t necessarily become an “October 8th Jew,” but rather a more nuanced Jew.
One who knows the Jewish people will one day heal.
Shabbat Shalom. Spend it with someone you love,
💦 If you care about 10/7, check out these Drops:
What I Learned From October 7th
I still feel it’s too raw to reflect. We only just starting coming up for air. As some of us have been saying, “It’s finally October 8th.” Yet, as a pensive person in need of blog material, I can’t help but jot a few things down.
How are you holding up?
It's been a year since October 7th, 2023. How are you holding up? What has your year been like? How has your Judaism changed or stayed the same in the past year?
I'm safe, but not okay.
Messages from American and Israeli Jews on how they're doing during the war in Israel.
The Most Important Book I Read This Year
This post is intense, but not as intense as the book. While reading it, many people said to me, “I could never read that. I could never put myself through that.” While this is understandable, I recommend at least reading this review of the book to honor those whose lives were taken on October 7th, 2023. They didn’t have a choice, and their individual stories and lives are worth remembering. And then after reading, go hug someone you love and hold them close.
This one makes me sad the most because I’ve worked hard all my life to be myself at all times.
Just yesterday, my new friend invited me to some scavenger hunt the mayor is running on Sunday. It’s called Hunt the Zionists. Just kidding. Dark humor. Anyway, instead of replying with “No thanks, I’m not in the mood to support an engagement initiative of the mayor’s after he couldn’t even let Jews mourn on their most devastating day in recent years without including on libel, blame, and misinformation,” I just said it will be raining on Sunday, and I don’t want to run around in the rain.
Just this week, I attended a “We Will Dance Again” dance for healing from 10/7. There was drama on the Partiful when some people found out the DJ works with Palestinians in the West Bank. They no longer wanted to attend because they no longer felt safe, while others saw his activism as an act of compassion for Palestinians. Not the most extreme example of divisiveness I’ve seen, but it goes to show how Jews can’t heal together without there being sensitivities and different viewpoints. I guess that’s very Jewish though.
Thank you for this. I both laughed “One who no longer cares for Susan Sarandon. That’s fine.” But also nodded along solemnly at SO much, in both lists. Glad to have found you here!
Far, far too late, but I am commenting now on this, and feel you on most of it, and look forward to someday meeting in person, and commiserating with our former like of Susan Sarandon, who went to my high school, so, y'know, even worse.