This year, I thought a lot about how I've stopped telling people I am Jewish without really thinking about why I am doing it.
I’m not a very religious person, but I used to be proud of my family’s traditions, and also I used to enjoy having something that made me a little bit different. While being Jewish wasn’t the most defining part of my character, it was a piece of information that I would readily volunteer when I first met someone. Now, it’s something that I haven’t told many of my co-workers. I’m still not totally sure why.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot after seeing one of the most famous people in the world say that he is going to go “Death Com 3” on the Jews. Kayne West obviously exists at the intersection of mental health and antisemitism, but I’ve been watching who has been excusing him and openly cheering his comments. The most depressing thing is how many people want to explain the thinking behind his comments, which has the effect of normalising antisemitism.
“While being Jewish wasn’t the most defining part of my character, it was a piece of information that I would readily volunteer when I first met someone. Now, it’s something that I haven’t told many of my co-workers. I’m still not totally sure why.”
I keep thinking of my mother telling me about growing up Jewish in post-war Britain, and how my grandmother told her not to stand out, not to make a fuss. The most important thing was assimilating. At the time I didn’t understand, but now I think I get it. In David Baddiel’s book Jews Don’t Count, where he talks about how Jews are “schrodinger’s whites, white or non-white depending on the politics of the observer”, which makes sense to me.
I’m British, I also don’t enjoy talking about antisemitism in the Labour party, because it’s depressing how many non-Jewish friends have tried to explain what is and isn’t antisemitism to me. It’s a nuanced conversation, and it’s exhausting. So I’ve just stopped having those conversations with those bright-eyed and well-meaning friends. Maybe part of me not wanting to talk about being Jewish is not wanting to talk about Israel and being demanded to defend the indefensible, but also I’m not sure why part of my identity should require that. I’ve tried talking about Ye with some Jewish friends, but there’s not a lot more to say than “This is pretty awful, isn’t it?”
“I also don’t enjoy talking about antisemitism in the Labour party, because it’s depressing how many non-Jewish friends have tried to explain what is and isn’t antisemitism to me. It’s a nuanced conversation, and it’s exhausting.”
I don’t think that just shutting up about things is a particularly courageous or helpful thing to do. It comes from the easy cowardice of assimilation and homogeneity. In 2022 I’ve also been thinking a lot about how I’m part of a minority that is easily able to assimilate, and how not every minority is able to do that.
Writing this I’ve also been thinking that this is a bit depressing, so I thought I’d end with a joke. Two Rabbis are talking and one Rabbi is complaining to the other that there are mice in his synagogue. He’s tried everything from poison, rat traps to even getting a cat. Nothing works and the mice keep coming back. “I know what you should do,” says the second Rabbi. “Give them all a bar mitzah, then you’ll never see them again!”
This is the first one!
Thank you for reading! Merry Christmas! 🎄