How My NOVA T-Shirt Became a Target for Hate
Shabbat Shalom! As I type this, I am sitting on the train heading to the University of Maryland to visit my cousins, Shira and Aliza Ruttenberg, a senior and sophomore, respectively. Leaving school proudly wearing my Nova Festival t-shirt, I could not help but feel immense pride in visiting my cousins, who are like older sisters to me. But as soon as I entered the cab to head to Penn Station, my mood shifted.
The driver asked me directly what my shirt meant. I explained it was a way to bring attention to the innocent lives lost, brutalized, and raped on October 7th at the Nova Music Festival. He scoffed. I brushed it off at first, thinking maybe his dismissiveness was not meant to be hateful. But moments later, antisemitic lyrics blasted from the car’s radio. The Sounds of War by Eddy Mack and Abu Batata. My heart sank as I heard the words: “Forcing children out their homes when they ain’t have sh*t… Killing mothers, children asking why there’s no one here to love them” (Mack). My Nova Festival t-shirt, a tribute to those slain in a senseless attack, clearly had triggered something in him.
I felt anger rising within me. This shirt, a simple yet meaningful memorial to young lives lost, had somehow made me a target. But I stayed calm, thanked the driver, and left the cab.
This experience had me thinking about Ki Teitzei, this week’s Torah portion. The Parsha opens with “When you go out..”—a phrase that resonates deeply with my journey today. Ki Teitzei is filled with 74 commandments, including one about respecting the (dignity) of the dead and another reminding us to put a fence around the roof of our homes. I appreciated the reminder to “go out,” as I felt somewhat alone after my experience in the cab this afternoon.
Ki Teitzei teaches us to return lost objects, to honor workers by paying them on time, and even to show mercy to the mother bird. Yet the parsha does not shy away from discussing the ugly parts of life—the reality of war, the injustices of the world, and the moral responsibility we bear, even in moments of conflict. I think of the mitzvah to return lost objects and wonder: What has been lost in the world today? Is it the ability to show basic decency? Or the acknowledgment of human suffering, no matter who you are or where you are from?
And then, the Parsha ends with a powerful command: to remember what Amalek, the eternal enemy of the Jewish people, did, trying to destroy us when we were at our most vulnerable. Yet the parsha does not stop with remembering the past but rather to remain vigilant, knowing that even when we go out into the world today, we still face threats. My Nova t-shirt is more than just a piece of clothing. It is a reminder that we cannot forget the lives lost to evil, and we must continue to wear our pride and our pain openly, even if it invites unintended interactions with others.
As I journeyed to visit my cousins today, I could not help but think that while I carry the weight of Jewish history on my back, I am also moving forward, just as we have been taught to do. Each step out into the world tests how we uphold the dignity of others and ourselves. This week’s parsha reminds me that we must carry that responsibility, no matter where the journey takes us.