Don’t Boo. Vote.

An Election Day manifesto to My Black and Jewish brothers and sisters in America

There comes a time in the life of a nation when its citizens must decide whether their convictions are worth more than their complaints, whether their principles are worth more than their partisan loyalties, and whether they are prepared to do something about the state of their country beyond expressing their dissatisfaction with it.

Election Day is such a time.

To my Black brothers and sisters in America, and to my Jewish fellow citizens across this country: I am asking you to vote. Not tomorrow, not when the circumstances become more convenient, not when a candidate finally appears who satisfies every last one of your expectations. Vote when the opportunity presents itself. Vote because the right to participate in the political life of this republic is neither an ornament nor a privilege to be taken for granted. It is a responsibility, and one that generations before us struggled, suffered, and sometimes died to secure.

Your participation matters. Your voice matters. And the decisions made by those who occupy public office will affect your lives whether you choose to participate in making those decisions or not. I expect us to distinguish disagreement from contempt.

I expect us to reject the notion that antisemitism becomes acceptable when directed at Jews who hold the wrong political opinions, or that racism becomes acceptable when directed at Black folk who refuse to conform to someone else’s ideological expectations. I expect us to recognize that a person’s right to participate in public life does not depend upon whether we approve of every opinion that person expresses.

That is what pluralism requires. And that is what democracy requires.

To my Black brothers and sisters: remember the people who fought to make your vote possible. Remember that the ballot box was not always open to you on equal terms, and that the struggle to secure that right cost lives, families, livelihoods, and generations of effort. Do not allow cynicism, disappointment, or political exhaustion to persuade you that your participation is meaningless.

To my Jewish fellow citizens: remember the extraordinary value of living in a country where you can participate in public life as Jews, where you can advocate for your interests, defend your communities, and maintain your connection to Israel without asking permission to be yourselves. Do not take that democratic inheritance for granted. Help protect it.

And to both communities: do not mistake the volume of your political expression for the strength of your political influence.

A march can make a statement. A demonstration can draw attention to an injustice. An essay can persuade, provoke, and challenge. A conversation can change someone’s mind. All of these things have their place in a healthy democracy. But when Election Day arrives, the opportunity to cast a ballot is one that should not be casually discarded.

Take someone with you who might otherwise stay home. Help an elderly neighbor get to the polls if you can. Encourage a first-time voter. Make sure the people around you understand that the decisions being made in their names will affect them whether they participate or not.

And vote according to your conscience.

Vote for candidates who respect democratic institutions. Vote for those who understand that public office is a responsibility rather than a personal entitlement. Vote for leaders who recognize that racism and antisemitism are not acceptable political instruments. Vote for people who understand that the security of Israel and the dignity of Palestinians need not be treated as mutually exclusive concerns. Vote for people who will protect the rights of American citizens, defend the rule of law, and take seriously the obligations of public service.

You may disagree with me about whom to support. That is your right. I would rather have an honest disagreement with an engaged citizen than comfortable agreement with someone who has abandoned the process altogether.

I have my disagreements with Barack Obama, Zohran Mamdani, and Abdul El-Sayed. I have my disagreements with plenty of Democrats. I will continue to have them. But the wisdom of President Obama’s message remains: don’t boo. Vote.

I am a Black man. I am a Zionist. I am a Democrat. I am an American citizen, and I take that citizenship seriously. I do not intend to surrender any part of that identity simply because somebody else finds the combination inconvenient.

Our country is imperfect. Our political institutions are imperfect. Our elected officials are imperfect. The people who participate in our democracy are imperfect, too. But perfection has never been a prerequisite for citizenship, and it should never become an excuse for abandoning our responsibilities.

We have inherited a republic shaped by people who believed that the future could be made better than the present. We have inherited struggles that were not finished by the people who began them. We have inherited freedoms that must be defended, institutions that must be maintained, and ideals that must be made real in the lives of people who have too often been excluded from their promise.

That inheritance belongs to all of us. And our country isn’t going to save itself.