Wearing Our Jewishness with Pride

When my parents immigrated to the United States in 1991, they carried with them a deep and enduring dream. They envisioned a life for their children where they would be able to express their Jewish pride and identity freely without any fear, unlike their upbringing. When my parents were growing up in the Soviet Union they weren’t allowed to learn or practice their Judaism, let alone express their Jewish pride. They never had the privilege to have their Bat or Bar Mitzvahs and didn’t get to celebrate any of the Jewish holidays.

My parents chose to settle in Five Towns, Long Island, a place where they felt their children would receive a great education surrounded by a warm Jewish community; a place where we would proudly wear our Magen Davids, Hamsa necklaces and red strings. A place free of pogroms and hiding our identity. That is how my brother and I lived, and my parents greatly valued this.

Come October 7th, 2023, our whole world changed forever. That feeling of comfort and tranquility that my family has had for the past 15 years. Gone. At that moment it didn’t feel like it was 2023. For at least a moment, it felt as if I was seeing the world through the eyes of my great grandparents who lived through the pogroms of Soviet Russia.

For the first time ever I didn’t feel safe in my own environment. I still remember the day as if it was yesterday. I was in Brooklyn staying over at my grandma’s house. It was around 11:45 PM on October 6th and I was just laying in my bed scrolling through TikTok and I came across this one live stream that showed a building that had collapsed with fire burning all around it. At first I didn’t think much of it but once I heard the man recording the livestream yell the words “Allahu Akbar” I knew something was seriously wrong. I knew that Israel was under attack. Without any hesitation I ran straight to Google and searched “Israel live updates.” My heart immediately dropped. I felt sick to my stomach. The news headlines said that Hamas had attacked southern Israel, and specifically the Nova Festival: a music festival celebrating life.

An hour passed, and I couldn’t sleep. I was restless, terrified – not just for the people at the music festival, but for everyone living in the Jewish homeland of Israel.

I was able to get about 4 hours of sleep that night. I had specifically set an alarm for 8 am so I could call my other grandma to inform her about all of the horrendous things that are happening in Israel.

When she finally picked up the phone, I didn’t even have a chance to speak. I could already hear the Russian news playing in the background along with my grandfather’s furious voice shouting at the television with such anger. I immediately asked, “Is our family okay?” and my grandma responded with, “We haven’t heard from them yet, but G-D willing everyone is okay.” Even though this was not a very comforting answer, I decided to move on with my day and just wait until I could gather more information.

Fast forward five days. Rumors were going around that tomorrow Friday the 13th, there would be “fake rabbis” coming to our neighborhood in New York and were planning to assault Jewish members of the community. When I first told my parents about this, they thought it was a joke, but once they started seeing this news in community group chats and on social media, their fears were confirmed. We all went to sleep that night assuming the next day would be like any other.. I woke up the next morning at 6:30 AM very confused as to why nobody was awake and getting ready for the day. My mom told me “Emily, go back to sleep, it’s not safe for you to go to school today.” I decided not to question it since I knew what was happening. I also trusted my parents.

As the day went on, I only heard about maybe one or two of these “fake rabbi” situations. I was still really worried so I decided to stay in my house until I got the confirmation that it was finally safe to go outside. I remember constantly checking my front door because of how paranoid I was. All we could do was wait for the confirmation that it was safe. Just as I had assumed, we never got that confirmation, but we had to move on.

A year after October 7th and the streets of the world are still not safe for Jews and Israelis. Last year, just after October 7th, a Jihadist mob in southern Russia heard rumors of a plane from Israel landing at a local airport. The plane wound up being diverted as the mob stormed the airport looking for Jews to attack. Just a few weeks ago, Israeli soccer fans in Amsterdam were brutally attacked by an organized jihadist mob. On this occasion the pogrom had been planned in advance.

For the first time in my life, I am actually seeing the world through the eyes of my great grandparents who experienced the first-hand horrors of such pogroms.

The day after the “fake rabbi” scare, I went to stay at my grandparents’ house again. There, I was urged by my grandmother that when going anywhere, I should hide my Magen David and my red string that I wear on my wrist. With the continued violence against Jews all over the world that I was observing, I decided to start taking my grandmother’s advice.

This made me feel a new level of low that I have never felt before. Never in my life have I been told to hide my Jewish identity. Even when my family and I were crossing the border from Israel into Jordan (technically at peace with Israel, but can be a hostile environment), they told me to keep my Magen David on and to wear it proudly. So when I was told to hide it while walking outside in New York, it truly broke my heart.

I listened to my grandmother and the rest of my family for about a month or so, hiding my Magen David and red string, and then I got fed up. I thought to myself, “Why should I care what other people think?” To this day, I wear them proudly. My ancestors had to hide who they were, and they did not survive some of the worst atrocities in history for me to be just as scared. Because of this, I wear my Judaism with pride.

And so, I started to become more active in Jewish youth groups.

These experiences gave me the courage to release my fear through learning the deep history of the Jewish people, modern Israel and how to educate others. I was encouraged to reinforce the importance of Jews showing their pride and the importance of having a strong and supportive Jewish community. The kind my parents have always wanted for me. The one they never gave up on.

To this day, I wear my Jewishness with pride. And will continue to do so – for myself, the people of Israel, and most importantly, for my great grandmother who couldn’t.

Am Israel Chai.