So, how's your Jewish American Heritage Month going?
SPOILER: Not great!
For those who are unaware (as I was until last year), May is Jewish American Heritage Month!
For those who are aware, welcome to the stewing pot of irony we sit in during the aftermath of one of the most blatant antisemitic murders committed on American soil in recent years, while the President openly accepts bribes from countries that shelter the leaders of terrorist organizations that are intent on wiping Jews off the face of the Earth.
It’s quite cozy in here, isn’t it?
Last year for Jewish American Heritage Month, I did a bit of a lighthearted twist where I, a Jew, wrote a couple of posts about “something American” — specifically, the American things I wrote about were “Star Trek” and “Baseball,” two of my favorite things (although I do have mixed feelings about baseball IN Star Trek, but that’s another story).
And I’ve been wanting to continue writing thoughtful but lighter, hopeful, or even joyful pieces about things I like that other people might enjoy reading about, because that’s what I do — write stuff to make you laugh or make you think, preferably both. The New Yorker recently ran an article on how to be a dissenter in a time of rising lawlessness and authoritarians trying to crack down on anyone who opposes them, and while there were some practical things in there that I’m definitely not gonna do (eg, wipe out your internet presence), one thing they did emphasize is that the enemy of oppression is mushy gushy stuff like hope and joy, so we should keep figuring out how to do that.
So I do hope to get back to writing lighter stuff like movie reviews, book reviews, why sports in general and baseball in particular loom so large in many people’s lives, my teenage self’s starry-eyed crush on Aaron Boone, and so on.
But not today.
Today I just want to write about how it feels to be an American Jew today.
(To be clear, the American Jew I am being is me. That seems self-evident since this is my substack and no one else’s, but always worth repeating. I am the American Jew I am talking about. If you go up to another American Jew and assume they are the American Jew whose experiences and opinions I am sharing here, that may not go well. You’ll have to get to know each individual American Jew to learn what they think. No shortcuts, sorry.)
Being an American Jew today feels like knowing that you will be held collectively responsible for the actions of any other Jews, because people seem thoroughly incapable of viewing Jews as individual people.
Being an American Jew today feels like having to put disclaimers on your own posts as a neon sign saying “HI HELLO, YES, I AM A HUMAN BEING WITH INDIVIDUAL THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS, HOW DO YOU DO, FELLOW HUMANS?”
Being an American Jew today feels like some people will justify any act of violence or antisemitism as long as someone committing it says “Gaza” or “Palestine.”
Being an American Jew today feels like some people will condemn any act of peaceful protest or compassion if someone committing it says “Gaza” or “Palestine.”
Being an American Jew today feels like having the definition of “Zionism” be constantly overwritten by people who have been educated by memes and have never met a single Zionist. (Or met one they didn’t like. Because, again, collective responsibility.)
Being an American Jew today feels like not knowing how many times it’s safe to say the word “Zionist” in a post on my own blog, lest I draw the ire of the Free Palestine social media mob.
Being an American Jew today feels like bafflement at how singularly obsessed people seem to have gotten over one tiny country’s wars, while millions of people in a hundred other wars are dying in utter silence.
Being an American Jew today feels like exasperation when people offer kindergarten-level solutions to 15-dimensional problems.
Being an American Jew today feels like being a political football that no one will touch unless they can smash it into the face of the opposing quarterback.
Being an American Jew today feels like frustration at what seems like a paltry selection of possible allies, very few of whom actually care about us, most of whom just want to use us.
Being an American Jew today feels like knowing that there are more allies out there, but they’re being drowned out by the extremists and are sometimes afraid to speak up because their social groups will alienate them for expressing any sympathy for any other “side.”
Being an American Jew today feels like people on the right will only speak of antisemitism to try to prop up their horrendous policy proposals, while ignoring it among marchers in Charlottesville and people who stormed the Capitol.
Being an American Jew today feels like people on the left will only speak of antisemitism if a Republican says it, or it comes wrapped in a neat swastika bow, or they can use it to bash JK Rowling.
Being an American Jew today feels like astonishment whenever anyone who isn’t Jewish demonstrates more than surface-level knowledge of Jewish history or the numerous complex forms of antisemitism — because frankly, almost no one who isn’t Jewish gives enough of a damn to learn about it.
Being an American Jew today feels like gallows humor and jokes about wishing all the conspiracies were true, because wouldn’t it be nice not to be as powerless and outnumbered as we are?
Being an American Jew today feels like seeing people hold up Anne Frank for their talking points about immigrants and refugees, while also ranting about Jews being colonizers in Israel, as if Anne Frank wouldn’t have immediately gone straight to Israel if she’d had the chance.
Being an American Jew today feels like holding an idea in your head for a short story taking place in a peaceful future where a Jewish woman and a Palestinian woman bond over their shared grief, but being torn on how to write it because that future feels so far away.
Being an American Jew today feels like seeing other frightened Jews post about arming themselves with knives or guns, and being repulsed by the idea but also wondering if I’m being stupid by not taking any self-defense classes.
Being an American Jew today feels like leaving my visibly Jewish workplace and wondering if there’s another radicalized psychopath out there waiting to shoot me, and if people would justify my death as an act of “resistance.”
Being an American Jew today feels like knowing that I’m a lousy target because I live at the top floor of a walk-up and if some crazed antisemite wanted to kill Jews, my downstairs neighbors are a much easier target.
Okay, that got really dark, and I don’t want to end it there, so I’ll finish with this:
Being an American Jew today also feels like pride in Max Fried — a Jewish pitcher who was inspired by another Jewish pitcher, Sandy Koufax — being the ace of the New York Yankees.
Thanks, Max. Keep doing what you’re doing.
Thank you for reading this edition of SM’s Movie Cramming Project, where I, SM, mostly watch movies so that you don’t have to, but occasionally also give the internet a stern talking-to and encourage it to think about what it’s done.
If you’re interested in reading some more Jewish American content, you can check out my novelette “Moon Melody” in Jewish Futures: Science Fiction from the World’s Oldest Diaspora, or my snapshot memoir, Millennial Quarter-Life Crisis: A Mosaic of Thinky Thoughts.