What If Silence Isn’t Indifference?

What if we’ve been getting silence wrong? When a friend says nothing about antisemitism, Israel, or the war, it’s easy to assume they don’t care. Silence feels like absence. It feels like distance. It feels like indifference. But what if some silence comes from the opposite place? What if they care so much they’re afraid to say the wrong thing?

That possibility didn’t occur to me until I heard Kathy Ball‑Toncic’s TEDx talk, “When Life Disrupts: Choosing Connection Over Fear.” Kathy tells a story that reveals how fear can shut down even the most loving relationships — and how easily silence grows in the space where courage should be.

Years ago, when a close friend was diagnosed with cancer, Kathy froze. She adored her friend and wanted to show up, but she was terrified of saying the wrong thing, making the pain worse, or stumbling over awkward words. So she hesitated. And that hesitation quietly dissolved into silence.

Later, Kathy would survive 9/11, breast cancer, and colon cancer. Looking back, she realized the hardest part wasn’t the trauma itself. It was the phone that didn’t ring. Friends she loved — people who had shared decades of life with her — suddenly disappeared. Not because they didn’t care, but because they didn’t know what to say.

Her story struck me because I see the same freeze around antisemitism. It’s the same instinct that keeps people from speaking up, asking questions, or checking in. Not necessarily because they don’t care, but because they’re afraid of getting it wrong.

In my earlier blogs — Debates Don’t Defeat Antisemitism and Disarm Antisemitism in 20 Seconds — I wrote about why relationships matter more than winning arguments, and how to respond when antisemitism comes up. But there’s another problem: sometimes the conversation never starts.

Silence Can Feel Like Indifference. Sometimes It Is. But Often, It’s Fear.

When antisemitism fills the news or shows up in our communities, many Jews look around at their non‑Jewish friends and wonder why they aren’t saying anything. It’s easy to hear silence as indifference. But Kathy’s story made me consider another possibility: people may care deeply about us and still stay silent because they’re afraid of saying the wrong thing.

They worry about offending us, sounding uninformed, or revealing how little they know. They’re trying so hard not to say the wrong thing that they end up saying nothing. But silence doesn’t protect the relationship. It starves it.

If We Want Connection, We Have to Go First

Most of us have been on both sides of this dynamic. Your friend may be afraid of sounding ignorant. You may be afraid of sounding defensive. Both of you may be waiting for the other person to make the first move. So what if we made it easier? What if we stopped expecting people to have perfect words before they opened their mouths? What if we created enough safety for them to simply begin?

Here are five ways to do that.

1. Make It Safe to Begin

Most people aren’t avoiding the topic. They’re avoiding the risk of hurting you. So name the topic directly and lower the pressure. You might say:

• • “If you ever want to talk about Israel or Palestine, I’m open to it. I don’t have all the answers either.”
  • “Zionism means different things to different people. If you’re ever unsure how to talk about it, I’m here.”
  • “I know this can feel intimidating. You don’t need perfect words. I’m glad we’re talking.”

These invitations tell your friend something important: you won’t be punished for trying.

2. Be Curious, Too

Your friend may be afraid of sounding ignorant. You may be afraid of sounding defensive. So frame the conversation as something you explore together. Try:

• • “I’ve been carrying a lot of feelings about antisemitism lately. I’m wondering how all of this looks from your perspective.”
  • “Israel and Palestine feel overwhelmingly complex right now. I’m still sorting through my own thoughts. What questions have you been holding?”

This shifts the dynamic from explaining to discovering. You’re not standing on opposite sides of a debate. You’re two friends trying to understand something difficult together.

3. Give Each Other Permission to Be Imperfect

Kathy’s message is simple: people don’t need perfect words. They need permission to be imperfect. Say it out loud:

• • “You don’t have to get everything right. I won’t either. I’d rather talk honestly than not talk at all.”

When people know they won’t be shamed for an awkward question or an honest mistake, they relax. And once they relax, they can actually talk.

4. Tell Them Something Real

Sometimes the easiest way to begin isn’t with an argument or a question. It’s with something that happened to you. Try:

• • “Can I share something that happened recently? It really shook me, and I’d love to hear how you make sense of moments like this.”

Stories invite empathy instead of analysis. They don’t require anyone to have the perfect answer. They simply open the door.

5. Take the Coffee Challenge

Sometimes the first step is simply an invitation: “I’d really like to talk about this. Want to grab coffee?” You don’t need to know where the conversation will go. You don’t need to prepare a speech. You don’t need to agree. You just need to be willing to take the first step.

That’s the Coffee Challenge — choosing connection over fear and having the conversation you might otherwise avoid. Real change doesn’t happen in a comment section. It happens one cup of coffee at a time.

Choose Connection Over Fear

Kathy’s TEDx talk isn’t really about finding the perfect thing to say. It’s about what happens when fear keeps us from showing up for the people we care about — and how easily silence can grow in the space where courage should be. That same dynamic shows up around antisemitism. We may assume a friend’s silence means they don’t care. They may be sitting there wondering whether a clumsy question or an imperfect comment will offend us.

We can leave things there. Or we can go first. Going first doesn’t require a speech or a perfect script. It’s simply an invitation — a small act of courage that lowers the temperature and opens the door. When we make it safe for someone to begin, we often discover the silence wasn’t indifference at all. It was fear, uncertainty, or the hope that we might lead the way.

And sometimes, breaking that silence starts with just two words:

“Let’s talk.”