My days too often begin with broken-hearted messages, emails, and Whatsapp calls from friends and beloveds who are Palestinian and Israeli. They recount the newest terrors, trauma, losses, and escalations. These friends, beloveds, are so tired, so broken, so brave, I do not know what to say. I do not know that the ways that I care for these exhausted, courageous humans that I love is what is right. But I know that I can’t do nothing. I care in the ways that I know how.
Since this terrible war in Gaza began I’ve baked bread, I’ve raised money, I’ve organized, and I’ve held space for a prism of Jewish perspectives. Everyone’s heart is breaking, fractured in ways unique to each of our own experiences. I am full of complicated legacies of trauma and truth. I am craving an immediate stop to the violence. I want it to stop. All of it.
That is all that I want. I believe that is what you want, as well. I trust we agree on this.
As Jews move into the part of the calendar year that will bring us to our fall Jewish holidays, rituals, gatherings, and opportunities to be reflective together, I am worried about us. The Jews. I am worried that we will be targeted for being Jews. I am worried that we will be hunted and harmed because we are Jews. I have a weekly nightmare about the killing of my children because they are Jewish. I am worried that this dream will come true soon. I wake up, shake off the terror of this dream. Palestinian and Israeli mothers wake up and this nightmare is their daily reality.
I am worried that assumptions will be made about me because I am Jewish. I am worried that people will assume because I am Jewish that I am not, could not be, in support of the liberation of Palestine. I am worried that my Palestinian beloveds are everyday in increasing risk of being harmed. I am worried about the legacy of grief that Palestinians are being tasked with carrying, metabolizing, and someday setting down.
I am worried that holding too tightly to our Jewish-specific, historical traumas (inherited and current) will deny us, collectively and individually, the recovery, the rest, the repair that we could find if we’d only let it. I am worried that we will continue to harm each other in our righteousness, in our dedication to stories told to us by those we love about a geographic place that holds so much power. I am worried that we do not see the choice in front of us to end this war differently; in a way that centers the liberation of all, not just Israelis and Jews. Even if it means we must give something up; especially if it means we must give something up.
In August, Michelle Obama encouraged us to activate the antidote to the social anxiety and fear that ails us: she invited us to do something. As we prepare for our Jewish High Holiday season to begin, Jews and our allies around the world will be marking the terrible day when one year ago Israeli hostages where taken and Israelis were murdered. We will also be marking the day that the bombing, destruction of Gaza and the Palestinian people escalated resulting in mass displacement, a polio outbreak, and the murder of tens of thousands of innocent people. In the shadow of all of this harm I am trying to find a place in my heart that feels celebratory for Rosh Hashanah, a holiday about accessing sweetness in our lives. I am struggling.
That said, I am doing SOMETHING. I hope you will join me.
I found my way to some Jews who share my belief that Jews, specifically, must do all that we can to stop this violence in our name. In this, I am finding a spark of hope.
I am a part of a campaign that was initiated by a community of Jews with decades of experience in progressive and human rights philanthropy. The campaign sends a clear message: as Jews and Americans, it’s time to step out of fear, silence, and division and into deeper alignment with our stated values of freedom, justice, and repair.
We are raising $10 million for Palestinian led organizations by the end of 2024. The campaign is called IN OUR NAME. We’ve raised $1.5 million as of today! We have a ways to go, want to do something????
Everything, all of the events and all of the asks that I make of my community will be in service of this singular effort through the end of the year. I hope you will join me.
Let’s do something.
Together.