To the people who believe that making an antisemitic remark is humorous—let’s reconsider.
I am a Jewish student, I’ve discovered firsthand that antisemitism isn’t always presented through brutality or bullying. Sometimes it’s a swastika on a desk. Sometimes it lingers in the air from an overheard conversation. Regardless of the form, it is always dangerous.
I have witnessed antisemitism at LM and in our neighborhoods. And every time, it echoes the same suggestion that Jews are not fully accepted. It’s not only vandalism or the words themselves that make this so disturbing; it’s the fact that targeted hate of this sort is so normalized. Treating antisemitic jokes as immature entertainment shows others that this behavior is acceptable, encouraging prejudice.
Equally disturbing is that the hate towards Jewish students is not an isolated issue. The numbers don’t lie: antisemetic incidents across the U.S. have reached record levels. The Anti-Defamation League states, “While antisemitism has sometimes escalated to violent or genocidal levels, it more appears in subtler ways, such as insensitive remarks that are brushed off, or negative stereotypes that go unchallenged.” Schools and college campuses around the United States are just a few of the places where Jewish students are targeted. We aren’t imagining this shift; antisemitism has escalated in ways that are impossible to escape. As a result it affects what we wear and what we say in places where students shouldn’t have to monitor who they are as a way of protection.
People constantly mistake antisemitism as ancient history, something stored away in a textbook that surely has been dismantled after the Holocaust. But antisemitism never left; it simply adapted. It became muted and masked behind the illusion of acceptance. When hate becomes casual, it becomes easier to excuse and easier to repeat. That is why it’s so prevalent in today’s world.
Being Jewish is something neither I nor any student should have to hide, defend, express sorrow for, or be ashamed of, especially at school. No one should have to look down at their desk and see hate sketched so carelessly in the place where they are meant to learn. No one should have to consider whether a joke about Jews is offensive or not a big deal. It is always a big deal and it always has been.
The only way forward is to stop laughing and start treating antisemitism seriously. That means speaking up instead of staying silent—it’s as simple as saying, “Hey, what you said is offensive.” That means acknowledging the dangers of antisemetic behavior in schools, communities, and online. Our teachers and administrators have been responsive when these incidents are brought to their attention, and have worked hard to make our school an inclusive place for all. But it’s going to take more than that, and starts with us students. It means doing the right thing, even when no one else is. That means learning history, before repeating its worst mistakes.
I’m not demanding any sort of special treatment. I’m demanding a basic level of respect where a Jewish student can walk into school and feel fully accepted. Silence has never protected Jewish people. But compassion, courage, and commitment just might.
