Dear Non-Jewish Friends
Dear Non-Jewish Friends,
Jews comprise 0.2% of the world’s population.
Take a group of 500 random people, and on average, 499 won’t be Jewish.
So you may be wondering what it’s like to be part of that 0.2%.
Here’s a little snapshot:
In May, Jews gathered at a museum reception in Washington DC. A gunman started shooting. Two attendees were killed.
In June, Jews gathered at a park in Boulder, Colorado. An assailant threw Molotov cocktails into the crowd. A woman was killed.
In October, Jews gathered at a synagogue in Manchester, England. A man drove his car into pedestrians and stabbed them. Two people were killed.
In December, Jews gathered on a beach in Sydney, Australia. Terrorists opened fire. Fifteen people were killed.
That’s just in 2025.
Bottom line: being Jewish is dangerous.
Whenever and wherever Jews gather, anywhere around the world, it’s not unreasonable to think that someone might die.
That’s why we are so focused on protecting our people and our spaces.
When I drop my son off at Hebrew school, he sees armed officers inside the main doors, outside the main doors, in the parking lot, and on the street.
To get inside the building, he walks between the bollards, through the controlled entry point, and past the security cameras.
When he gets to his classroom, he’ll see reinforced doors, tinted windows, and signs explaining the differences between lockdowns and sheltering-in-place.
That’s just the tip of the iceberg. There’s plenty more that hopefully he’ll never see.
It’s essential. But it’s also a shame.
In a different world, all of that security money could instead go to learning and fun activities.
But not in this one.
Because, again: whenever and wherever Jews gather, anywhere around the world, it’s not unreasonable to think that someone might die.
Speaking of Hebrew school, I teach a 7th grade class there. It’s about the Holocaust, during which six million Jews were killed by the Nazis.
I teach that class to honor my grandparents. They were enslaved and tortured by the Nazis for years. Somehow, they survived. But their parents and most of their siblings did not.
It’s been 80 years since the Holocaust ended. Yet the same hatred toward Jews that fueled it is alive and well today.
Jews comprise 2% of America’s population. But over two-thirds of religious-based hate crimes in our country are perpetrated against us.
Some criticize us for having a victim mentality. Maybe we do.
But can you blame us?
I’ll say it again: whenever and wherever Jews gather, anywhere around the world, it’s not unreasonable to think that someone might die.
We cannot fix this alone. There are a whole lot more of you than there are of us.
I hope this increases your understanding of what it’s like to be Jewish.
But I hope even more that you’ll decide to help.
