A couple of weeks ago, it was Rosh Hashanah, a very important Jewish holiday. For Jews, Rosh Hashanah marks the New Year in the Hebrew Calendar. It was on this day, as well, that Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Supreme Justice of the United State for the past 27 years, died after a long struggle with cancer. Many people felt the loss of this figurehead of American justice, especially the people she fought to protect.
After RBG’s death, I have been examining myself further as a Jewish woman, especially during 2020 when the struggles and activism of minority groups have been thrust to the forefront of the media. Antisemitism is a parasite that still lurks in the corners of American society from blatant remarks on the internet to attacks on temples and synagogues. Even the president himself, who told the Proud Boys—a white, male chauvinist group with racist activities that have allied with Neo-Nazi groups before—to “stand by and stand back” during the Presidential debate on Tuesday when asked to denounce white supremacist groups.
The presence of this parasite haunts me and other members of the Jewish community daily, making it difficult to speak our minds. A spew of vitriol aimed at RBG after her passing was specifically aimed at her Jewish faith, something which I cannot believe is still a thing people do in 2020.
It’s even stranger seeing the world’s relationship with antisemitism. There’s a phrase used on social media that calls people to “Punch Nazis.” The ironic thing is that in the same sentence, they’ll invalidate Jewish lives and continue to perpetuate harmful stereotypes about Jews like how we’re “greedy” or “untrustworthy,” without even realizing how harmful those stereotypes can be.
There is a saying to honor the dead in Jewish tradition: “May their memory be a blessing.” That statement alone has been weighing on my heart since Ginsburg’s passing. I am often reminded of the stories my father told me of his experience as a Jewish-American youth in the 60s and 70s, how a boy keyed his car telling him to “Go Home,” and how even amongst his white classmates, he never felt like he truly belonged. Memory is something Jews hold close to their hearts. From the moment we come into this world, we are taught to remember all of those who came before us. I think the reason we do so is that there have been so many losses of Jewish lives due to genocide and discrimination. We have to hold on to whatever remnants of family we have left when they are gone.
I’m not religious, but something about Rosh Hashanah happening as one of the biggest figureheads of the feminist movement dies feels greater than coincidence to me. To me, it feels like a new leaf has turned and the people of my generation are finally standing up against the injustices we and many others have felt. I’m just hoping that when people come to each other’s defenses, they will come to my people. If they don’t, I most certainly will. When I stand and fight for justice, I do it for not just others, but for myself, and my father, and my grandparents, and the Jewish friends and family that I hold close to my heart.
Want to see more HCFSU? Be sure to like us on Facebook and follow us on Instagram, Twitter, TikTok and Pinterest!