-
NEW! Get email alerts when this author publishes a new articleYou will receive email alerts from this author. Manage alert preferences on your profile pageYou will no longer receive email alerts from this author. Manage alert preferences on your profile page
- RSS
The Price of Advocacy: Isolation and Antisemitism at SUNY New Paltz
CAMERA on Campus Advisor, Seth Mendel, interviewed Angelina Palumbo, CAMERA Fellow at State University of New York (SUNY) Binghamton, about her experiences with antisemitism within the SUNY system.
- Why did you transfer from SUNY New Paltz to Binghamton after your sophomore year?
Antisemitism had been normalized at New Paltz in the past, but following October 7, it felt like openly hating Jews was an ordinary part of campus culture, like Greek life or rooting for the basketball team.
At first, I thought someone would intervene. Someone would say that Jews have a right to mourn the tremendous loss we experienced on October 7, and remind students that antisemitism is wrong.
Soon I realized I needed to step up, but the more I advocated for Israel the more I was isolated. After being publicly labeled a “Zionist,” friends started distancing themselves from me for fear of being harassed. I moved off campus after fall semester 2023, and still received threats online to “get this girl off campus.” I didn’t know how far people would go to make good on these threats. By the end of sophomore year, I decided that fighting systemic antisemitism at New Paltz was not worth the sacrifice to my academic career.
Binghamton, however, has a thriving Jewish campus community where I can be proactive and I am surrounded by students who speak out with me.
- Did you experience antisemitism prior to October 7?
The first incident happened when I was a freshman in fall 2022. I was alone in an elevator wearing a pendant with the outline of Israel and my Magen David necklace. Two boys entered, looked at my necklaces, started yelling “Free Palestine,” and blocked the exit. The encounter only lasted as long as the elevator ride but it felt like an eternity. Despite reporting the incident to the administration, no action was taken.
Widespread hostility towards Jewish students at New Paltz was an open secret for years. After October 7, people no longer had to be discreet because antisemitism was tolerated by the university. A friend of mine was falsely accused of violently attacking a protestor, and within minutes he was doxxed by multiple students and a professor.
- What made you feel targeted as a Jewish student?
In November, I hung up over 100 posters of the hostages on campus. In under an hour, most of them had been ripped down. I later discovered that the perpetrators coordinated how to tear them down to prevent the spread of “Zionist propaganda.”
When protests were held to “globalize the intifada” and called for a “student intifada,” I published a post explaining the violent history of the term “intifada.” I received an influx of comments like, “I can’t wait until the oppressor falls,” and, “How do we get her and the Zionists off our campus?” My photo was spread online with captions like, “Why don’t you use that Zionist money to get a nose job?” and, “Save some oxygen for the rest of us.”
Last spring, I hosted a talk with three IDF reservists responding to a recent anti-Israel rally. Before the event, the New Paltz mayor promoted an ad featuring a member of Hamas demanding the event’s cancellation and that whoever was in charge should be ashamed.
After getting the runaround from the head of Student Affairs, over 300 angry protestors marched on campus, holding signs saying “F*** Zionists” and chanting “SSI You Can’t Hide,” referring to the Students Supporting Israel group I founded. Jewish students had to be escorted to the parking lot because of the mob. Later that day, some of them chased me across campus and called me “Little Miss Zionist.”
- How did the university respond?
Instead of addressing antisemitic incidents, the administration chose to minimize and deflect. For months, I sent weekly updates to everyone from the president to professors, outlining the antisemitic events occurring that week. I submitted incident and bias reports about instances that directly violated school policies. The professor who doxxed my friend was fired. But for the hundreds of other reports I filled out, I received few responses. The common response was to assure me that “an investigation” would occur and I should go to counseling services if I felt distressed.
After months of trying to speak directly with President Wheeler, I was finally able to meet with him. When I told him that the antisemitic harassment I faced was so severe that the university’s police department contacted me about my safety on campus, he shrugged off my concerns. He compared my experience to his living as a Black and Gay man, and at times I may be uncomfortable in life and that I will have to “learn how to deal with it.” It seemed to me that he wouldn’t use his power to help because no one helped him when he was unfairly targeted.
Even the vice-president, who I had come to trust, advised me against organizing a counter-protest when the anti-Israel encampment emerged because it might “give them the media attention they wanted.” No genuine concern was shown for students like me, who feared inaction would embolden those defending terrorism.
- Did you find any support from local Jewish institutions?
Chabad was the only Jewish institution on campus, and the only place I felt welcomed and safe. They offered comfort and showed me which forms to fill out when I had incidents to report. They held a vigil and wrapped Tefillin in front of the encampment. Unfortunately, there was a general understanding that focusing on Jewish events rather than Israel would keep more peace on campus.
- How was your participation in campus life affected?
I went to college to receive an education and be a student, not to be an activist. I was stripped of my right to an education free of fear. I expected to hang out with friends on a Saturday night, not file incident reports. I imagined making new friends instead of fighting to hold on to the few I had left. Nobody wanted to be associated with me because they feared that the harassment I faced would target them. I felt like public enemy number one.
I didn’t have a social life. I attended class and immediately returned home off-campus. By spring 2023, I had been doxxed enough times that anti-Israel activists recognized me. I couldn’t study in the library because students wearing Keffiyehs would accost me. Joining a new club was out of the question since most of them signed a solidarity letter implying “Little Miss Zionist” was unanimously unwelcome.
- What advice would you give to students facing similar challenges?
My advice is twofold. First, it is so important never to lose your pride or change your beliefs to fit in. Second, you need to decide how much you’re willing to sacrifice to right the wrongs plaguing your community. It is not any single student’s responsibility, and only you can make the decision for yourself. I chose to transfer to take back control of my college narrative. Thankfully, I’ve found a welcoming home at Binghamton to continue advocating for my peers’ and my people’s safety.
Ultimately, our best response to hatred is to grow and thrive in spite of it.
Related Topics