Diamond Montessori Blog

Well. What a ride the past couple of weeks have been. I don’t really want to talk about any of it. But here we are. So- what does it look like, when antisemitism has been as normalized as it has been in the last few years?

Less than a month ago, I was driving back from services on Rosh Hashanah- one of the most important days of the Jewish year. Noora and I had been in shul all morning. I was still wearing my kippah, and very large Star of David earrings. We pulled up to a red light and a young white man, couldn’t have been more than 25, casually and coolly shouted out “F**k you, Jew” through his open window to mine.

Two weeks ago, Noora was scared for me wearing the same earrings into the Starbucks on the way to Shabbat services. “But won’t people know you’re a Jew? They’ll know. Like that man.” Once the novelty of being able to recount this story, to literally everyone, and being able to say the eff word in the retelling without getting in trouble, wore off, the shock of what had happened sunk in.

I did not take off my Magens. I told her that sometimes there are people who hate Jews, and they themselves don’t always know why. I reached out to our community and rabbis and I know that this anxiety and fear about being perceived as Jewish will pass, as she is surrounded by people who love all of her and her Jewishness, and that joy in Judaism hasn’t diminished.

But what does it mean, to be a proud Jew and raising a proud Jew in this world? It is exhausting. I am exhausted. I love my Jewishness. I love Judaism. I love my fellow Jews. And I am exhausted. And heartsick. I will continue to wear my Magens. I will continue to be loudly and publicly Jewish. I will continue to teach my daughter about her culture and her people, and our resilience and beauty and strength. I will centre Jewish joy and not trauma.

But damn, I wish the rest of the world would stop making it so hard.