Redefining Privilege

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In the past week, dejected Harris supporters have licked their wounds and commiserated over the purported dismal fate of the nation. Such is only natural when one is committed to a candidate and feels the sting of loss and failure to the tune of so crushing a red sweep.

I have noted, however, a fascinating trend in reaction that has me questioning the soundness of their logic as well as attachment to democratic values. Some disappointed Harris supporters are invoking a litmus test of sorts, questioning their acquaintances on their voting choices, wearing blue wristbands so people of color can identify them as “allies” and “safe spaces” who voted “correctly,” and generally acting like the inheritors of the Salem Witch Trials.

I have to wonder where these great humanitarians were in the past year (and, frankly, this past week) when Jews were being assaulted on the streets with impunity. I would love to have seen their self-identification as “safe spaces.”

I know better, however, than to look to many of these people as safe spaces. Their selective outrage at perceived racism never seems to extend long enough to reach to my people. I am what you might call unimpressed by their white savior cosplay for public brownie points and social media status.

I hear and read much discussion about white privilege and how some Americans are afraid of a second Trump term. I see these people and their fears. I am honest enough to acknowledge the validity of some of them.

I also see a great deal of unnecessary fear mongering. I am less concerned about prospective fears than current, tangible ones. I have heard tell of people who did not send their children to school the day after the election because they feared for their safety based solely on electoral results.

I mean, look, I’m as overprotective as the next Jewish mom, but even I did not let my child stay home from school the day after she was called a murderer on the playground for being a Jew. You have to be bleeding from your head to skip school in this house, much less because your parent’s favored candidate lost.

I have read with incredulity of people looking to obtain second passports based on European ancestry. People looking to return to Poland or Hungary or Ukraine or France baffle me. Again, as a Jew, I find a return to a pogrom-ridden Europe less than appealing. Isn’t that why my great-grandparents left in the first place?

If you are closed-minded and uninterested in learning how a consistently anti-Trump voter was turned this election, you can stop reading now. If you are curious, however, what could impel someone who twice voted against the same candidate to vote differently this time, read on.

I twice voted against Trump, changed my registration to Independent, and supported Hillary Clinton and Joe Biden – two politicians I never imagined myself capable of supporting under any other circumstances. I felt bile in my throat as I cast my Clinton vote, but I could not fathom voting for the man who bragged about grabbing women’s pussies. I believe in abortion rights and gay marriage. I was a Never-Trumper.

So what happened to change my mind?

The fact of the matter is, the past year has changed everything. It has flipped the Jewish diaspora existence on its head. The world is a truly terrifying place for Jews right now, and if you have the temerity to judge those of us who switched our past voting habits in the sincere search for self-preservation, you might want to “check your privilege,” to invoke the popular vernacular.

A red pin with an orange hand, worn by some celebrities at the Academy Awards event on March 10, 2024, to show support for Palestinians in Gaza and call for a ceasefire in the Israel-Hamas war. (via X, formerly Twitter)

I view those who were able to continue to vote based on their consciences and mores as opposed to their survival instincts as the truly privileged among us.

If you were able to vote on the basis of your views on abortion, count yourself privileged.

If you continue to have a home in mainstream political discourse and parties, count yourself privileged.

If you could vote to protect your daughter’s reproductive rights as opposed to her right to be free from being harassed and called a murderer on the playground with impunity, count yourself privileged.

If you were able to base your vote on a candidate who would finally break multiple glass ceilings instead of  your inability to put food on your family’s table, count yourself privileged.

If you felt free to vote for the candidate of joy as opposed to the candidate who carries a large stick and strikes fear in the heart of America’s enemies, consider yourself privileged.

I did not feel so privileged. I voted existentially. Many people did, people who work with you and live next door. You might find yourself surprised by how many people feel existential fear at the moment. Personally, I am surprised by how few people sense the existential threat posed by the Iranian regime, the Islamist awakening, and the Red-Green alliance sweeping the Earth.

The fact of the matter is, my family is exponentially worse off at the end of the past four years. Many families are. Many families cannot afford to feed their children. They are not privileged to vote over abortion rights. Many families live in towns overrun by a porous border and resulting crime.

And many families have watched as their people are assaulted in broad daylight on the streets of New York and L.A. and Chicago without legal repercussion. People cannot walk safely in the streets of Brooklyn without being spat on, harassed, or beaten. Every single day, Jewish property is desecrated and Jewish people are violently attacked.  Every. Single. Day.

Jewish life has once more become cheap in the eyes of the world, and it happened under this current administration’s watch.  American hostages are forgotten and devalued.  We spent countless hours forming grassroots organizations to lift each other up and look after our own because we knew no one else would pick up the mantle.  Our alma maters were overrun by terror supporters who shout to globalize the intifada.

And – to everyone’s apparent shock – after a year of complacence and permissiveness, the intifada is now being globalized with pogroms spreading across the planet. The anniversary of Kristallnacht was marked not by sober introspection but by the shattering of glass at Jewish-owned businesses throughout the world and premeditated lynching of Jews in Amsterdam without a single arrest.

Is it any wonder that close to half of New York’s Jews voted for Trump? People have been beaten on the streets, their children attacked, their businesses and homes vandalized, their schools covered in obscene graffiti.

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Did I like voting for Trump? Of course not. I felt the same bile in my throat as I did in 2016 when I held my nose and voted for Clinton. But if I could do one, I could do the other.  I am no longer privileged to worry about comparatively minor issues like reproductive rights when I fear for the safety and future of my children and my people.  In short, what good is the right to an abortion if you are dead?

And I understand that perhaps many Harris voters chose her because they feel the same way – that Trump threatens their safety and future. That is their perspective and their choice. We live in a democratic society where we select the candidates whom we determine best serve our particular needs and interests, and I respect that those needs and interests often diverge or result in opposing decisions.  G-d Bless the U.S.A.

But I will be damned if I will apologize for voting for the candidate Iran wants to assassinate because he is the strong man they fear. To me, that was reason enough to select him. I know more about Middle Eastern politics and dynamics than the average bear, so I feel confident that he is the persona they will respect out of fear.  I feel the existential threat of antisemitism coursing through my very veins, but I also see the threat posed to America as a whole by the Iranian regime currently waging war on our entire civilization. Every aspect of my life and my identity is on heightened, red alert: my American identity, my Jewish identity, my western identity, my female identity, and my identity as a momma bear.

I have watched the current administration do absolutely nothing to protect my people. The only people other than Jews whom I have seen standing up for the beleaguered students across the nation are Republicans, with the rare exception such as Ritchie Torres and Josh Gottheimer. I have seen liberal friends fall away and vanish, melting into the mist of their own privileged arrogance. I’m sure more will follow this attempted practice of courage. So be it.

You can retreat to your corner and curse those of us who voted for our own self-preservation as amoral, racist, homophobic, or MAGA nuts. Throw whatever pejorative you wish in our direction. I am emboldened in this admission only because I know that so, so many others feel the same way. Forced into a vote to try to stave off the impending doom we viscerally feel.

When you are finished cursing us, perhaps ask yourself where you have been for the past year while so many people’s lives grew darker and more terrifying.

The truth is, I have never felt so relieved as I did on Wednesday morning when I awoke to the news that Trump had won. For the first time in over a year, my shoulders felt lighter. If you don’t know that feeling, then count yourself privileged.