I thank Yves Salomon-Fernandez for writing “A call for action and leadership from each of us” in the Recorder. It was good to hear from a local civic leader, something I had been missing since attacks in Pittsburgh and Louisville, and now Thousand Oaks too. I had begun writing a letter myself, stopped each time by either a new incident or the stinging fact that one of the groups targeted was one I identify with, and that gave me pause about exactly what Dr. Salomon-Fernandez asserted we consider – what my own leadership and action has been and needs to be.
I have been a Greenfield resident for 18 years. As a Jew, I have always felt safe in our city. Throughout the years, and particularly since 2016, other local congregants and I have stood up against hate and injustice directed toward other groups: Muslims, LGBTQ folks, people of color, refugees, immigrants, as we felt Jews weren’t the victims this time.
And yet, I don’t always touch base person-to-person with people I know from marginalized groups when something terrible is targeted at them. Since the end of October, I know many Jewish people who are still reeling after the Pittsburgh massacre that targeted Jews. Over the past two weeks, I have felt the absence of touching base, of the silence, both civic and personal.
There is something perhaps hurtful but definitely frightening about silence, as it seems to normalize the incidences. Perhaps that is the real issue; hate is becoming normal. Or maybe we don’t know the right words to say, as when there is a death in someone’s family. Or perhaps, as I felt, there are other groups who deserve more attention, who suffer more, daily, and I am only getting a taste of what that may feel like now.
Escalation of hate crimes can create a desensitization of how to feel and a confusion of how to respond. There was a 60 percent surge of anti-Semitic hate incidences in 2017 alone, and there have been 160 incidences (including assault) in New York this October. I am both afraid, and numb.
I am grateful for the local religious community’s responses – gathering at our local synagogue with expressions of solidarity from people of all faiths. I am grateful the City Council president was there. I am grateful for the non-Jewish folks who stood up to say they don’t want us to feel unsafe. One person said she would even defend us if need be. At this thought the cells of my body tightened into vigilance and remembrance of why my family came to this country – fleeing religious persecution. Transgenerational trauma is real, setting off internal alarms of danger as we go about our days. I am grateful the synagogue is locking its doors and requesting police presence.
I was concerned that I hadn’t heard any school or civic leader speak out against hate and all three children in my home go to three different schools in Greenfield. I understand that the mayor was invited to the Temple gathering but there has been no response. I began to make excuses for them – if they bring this up to the larger community they would have to bring up all other hate incidents and well that would be too much … which is kind of frightening in and of itself. Again, I look at my own responses or lack thereof and wonder what the path forward can look like.
I am feeling vulnerable in writing this because of what the response may be. After Pittsburgh my husband looked at some of the anti-Semitic hate groups online that predicted the Jewish community would come out as martyrs and complainers. I am afraid of being seen and labeled that way. I have learned (and continue to learn) enough about whiteness to know that silence is complicity and that white supremacy seeks to divide and conquer. Fortunately, we have the capacity to act differently. I can speak up, and we can share our concerns personally and civically in words of consolation and caring. I can call or stop over and see if someone is alright after a group that they identify with has been targeted, as I continue to work towards a world where that targeting won’t take place at all.
If you are a leader in a school or community, you have the ears of many to share words of connection and courage, I implore you to do so. Yes, you will have to write more letters, because the people you serve deserve safety and security in our city, and all of our children need to feel they belong. And all of us, as Dr. Salomon-Fernandez stated, can lead. I apologize to friends and community members that I haven’t reached out to in the past. For those of you who reached out to me, it makes a huge difference. And, reaching out helps heal the divide that lies at the root of the problem of hate, racism, anti-Semitism, sexism, ableism and homophobia in the first place.
Jodi Falk is a Greenfield resident.