Privilege

For the past 11 months, I’ve been reflecting deeply on privilege and what it means.

Consider the privilege it takes to sip oat milk lattes in your Brooklyn apartment with air conditioning, all the while 101 innocent people suffer in the tunnels beneath Gaza, enduring torture, and abuse.

What kind of privilege allows you to post “All Eyes on Rafah” on social media and remain silent when six hostages are found murdered in Rafah, executed in cold blood at close range?

What privilege must it be to hide behind a mask, bullying and intimidating others while chanting about a region in the Middle East you couldn’t pinpoint on a map and didn’t think about on October 6?

What privilege permits you to call yourself an ‘activist,’ while breaking university rules and demanding food, water, and resources from the institution?

What privilege lets you organize a protest in New York, proudly waving the flags of five U.S.-designated terrorist groups, while Rachel and Jon Goldberg-Polin bury their only son, whose arm was blown off by terrorists at a music festival celebrating love and peace?

What privilege allows you to fall asleep each night without the blare of sirens or the constant threat requiring an Iron Dome Defense System? And to drift off beside your partner, who hasn’t been called up for reserve duty to fight in a war your country did not start?

What privilege must it be to wake up each day completely content, indifferent to the 1,200 innocent civilians murdered and the hundreds taken hostage?

What privilege allows you to disregard Hersh’s final moments, to believe that an American killed abroad has no impact on your life? To enjoy a warm shower without fear, to live in your home without being displaced, to associate blaring sirens with emergency services alone, to choose your jewelry without a second thought before getting into an Uber, and to pray in your house of worship without looking over your shoulder? To be free from worrying about bomb threats at your child’s school due to their religion? To not have your very existence questioned?

We know privilege exists. It shapes our reality, providing a comfort that many take for granted – the comfort of living free from constant threat of violence or discrimination. It is the luxury of navigating life without your fundamental right to exist questioned or challenged.

This privilege allows you to engage in discussions about Israel’s policies and actions from a position of relative ease and security, without experiencing the immediate consequences of conflict.

To have such immense privilege is to exist within a bubble, one that shields you from the harsh realities faced by others – possibly your friends, peers, those in your network. When you are insulated from the consequences that others endure daily, it becomes all too easy to misuse that privilege, to engage in discussions and actions without fully grasping their implications.

Recognizing this privilege is not enough; it is your responsibility to use it wisely.

Because if you don’t, you’ll turn your privilege into a liability for the rest of us.