What it means to be Jewish in America -- 2019 version
It was the 1990's. I was a single mother with two young children, living in my parents' home. I wanted my daughters to have a proper Jewish education, so I joined the synagogue where my parents had been members when I was a child. It was a warm, welcoming, vibrant congregation. It felt like home.
And then, on August 10, 1999 a neo-Nazi walked into a Jewish Community Center in Los Angeles and shot 3 children and two adults.
And the Board of Trustees of the synagogue decided that we should take some safety precautions. The doors to the synagogue and to the nursery school would be locked during the day. A buzzer system was installed; you'd use the intercom to call the office, and the staff would unlock the doors and let you into the building. Our police department stationed an officer outside our building during the High Holy Days. It was scary yet comforting to see a police officer guarding our synagogue.
The folloiwng year, the Board decided that during the High Holy days we would have a couple of security guards in the parking lot "just in case". It only made sense.
And then, in 2008, our synagogue was vandalized. Some time after Saturday afternoon Sabbath prayers and before our Sunday morning weekday service, some "lovely soul" spray painted nasty slogans all over our building. On Sunday afternoon I had an encounter in the synagogue parking lot with the person who the Hate Crimes detectives believed to be the perpetrator. He said some nasty things to me, but fled when he saw me reaching for my cell phone.
And the Board thought security cameras would be helpful, that an alarm system would be useful.
And then it was 2017. Jewish Community Centers and other Jewish institutions were in crisis mode, because someone was calling in bomb threats. In just a few weeks, there were over 70 threats made. And suddenly all my normal life activities felt like acts of bravery.
The JCC in Plainview, not too far from where I live, was one of the targets. We held a candlelight vigil there, vowing "Not here, not now".
And suddenly there were security guards in the lobby of the synagogue at night and on weekends, any time that there'd be a lot of people around.
And then it was October 2018....
A beautiful Saturday morning at Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh.The peace of the Sabbath was shattered when a white supremacist shot and killed 11 innocent souls.
And I thought my heart would break.
16 synagogues (Conservative, Reform, even the Chabad) and several other Jewish organizations sponsored a vigil. We mourned.we sang, we prayed. We called upon our leaders to take action, to do something about the senseless violence that resulted in this tragedy, and so many other, similar tragedies.
And the Board of the synagogue decided to to impose an assessment on the membership, each family would have to pay $100 "for enhanced security", whatever that means. It's the first time, in all the years I've been a member, that the congregation didn't complain about an assessment imposed by the Board.
And then this weekend...on the Sabbath/last day of Passover ... Chabad of Poway. Another white supremacist, another assaut rifle. One dead, three wounded.
And emails from the Rabbi and the President of the congregation. We are safe. We are safe.
But we know we are not.
The ADL recorded a total of 1,879 anti-Semitic incidents across the country in 2018, the third-highest year on record since the New York-based Jewish organization began tracking such data in the 1970s. Those incidents included cases of assaults, harassment and vandalism.
So we pray in a synagogue with locked doors, under the watchful eye of an armed security guard. And we wonder how to keep this fortress feeling like a warm, welcoming, vibrant community, like home...
And then, on August 10, 1999 a neo-Nazi walked into a Jewish Community Center in Los Angeles and shot 3 children and two adults.
And the Board of Trustees of the synagogue decided that we should take some safety precautions. The doors to the synagogue and to the nursery school would be locked during the day. A buzzer system was installed; you'd use the intercom to call the office, and the staff would unlock the doors and let you into the building. Our police department stationed an officer outside our building during the High Holy Days. It was scary yet comforting to see a police officer guarding our synagogue.
The folloiwng year, the Board decided that during the High Holy days we would have a couple of security guards in the parking lot "just in case". It only made sense.
And then, in 2008, our synagogue was vandalized. Some time after Saturday afternoon Sabbath prayers and before our Sunday morning weekday service, some "lovely soul" spray painted nasty slogans all over our building. On Sunday afternoon I had an encounter in the synagogue parking lot with the person who the Hate Crimes detectives believed to be the perpetrator. He said some nasty things to me, but fled when he saw me reaching for my cell phone.
And the Board thought security cameras would be helpful, that an alarm system would be useful.
And then it was 2017. Jewish Community Centers and other Jewish institutions were in crisis mode, because someone was calling in bomb threats. In just a few weeks, there were over 70 threats made. And suddenly all my normal life activities felt like acts of bravery.
The JCC in Plainview, not too far from where I live, was one of the targets. We held a candlelight vigil there, vowing "Not here, not now".
And suddenly there were security guards in the lobby of the synagogue at night and on weekends, any time that there'd be a lot of people around.
And then it was October 2018....
A beautiful Saturday morning at Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh.The peace of the Sabbath was shattered when a white supremacist shot and killed 11 innocent souls.
And I thought my heart would break.
16 synagogues (Conservative, Reform, even the Chabad) and several other Jewish organizations sponsored a vigil. We mourned.we sang, we prayed. We called upon our leaders to take action, to do something about the senseless violence that resulted in this tragedy, and so many other, similar tragedies.
And the Board of the synagogue decided to to impose an assessment on the membership, each family would have to pay $100 "for enhanced security", whatever that means. It's the first time, in all the years I've been a member, that the congregation didn't complain about an assessment imposed by the Board.
And then this weekend...on the Sabbath/last day of Passover ... Chabad of Poway. Another white supremacist, another assaut rifle. One dead, three wounded.
And emails from the Rabbi and the President of the congregation. We are safe. We are safe.
But we know we are not.
The ADL recorded a total of 1,879 anti-Semitic incidents across the country in 2018, the third-highest year on record since the New York-based Jewish organization began tracking such data in the 1970s. Those incidents included cases of assaults, harassment and vandalism.
So we pray in a synagogue with locked doors, under the watchful eye of an armed security guard. And we wonder how to keep this fortress feeling like a warm, welcoming, vibrant community, like home...
These sorts of things were supposed to be getting better, not worse. What's truly sad is these scared little children (they may be adults, but they're acting out like children) have decided to impose their fears on the world. I'd like to think that as a society we're getting better, we're learning to live with one another. But some people are violently resisting that change.
ReplyDeleteI don't know what to say. I'm sorry doesn't cut it. Anger doesn't help. And yelling at these stupid children only makes them angrier. And more fearful. I just hope that some time in the not too distant future we can look back at this as a dark chapter in a history of things getting more inclusive and safer for everyone.
Oh, I hope you are right.
ReplyDeleteI don't know what to say. Although I am Jewish, I am also intermarried and haven't participated in Jewish (or any other) religious life in many years. But please let me tell you about something I did yesterday. I visited downtown Charlottesville, Virginia, paid my respects at the site where Heather Heyer was run down in 2017 (allegedly by a Neo Nazi), and walked past the synagogue whose congregation Neo-Nazis threatened earlier that day. I never realized that this synagogue was just a block or two from the statue that the Neo Nazis were "supposedly" there in order to protest its removal. But of course their purpose was really something different. It gave me chills walking past these sites. We may have a world safe for all religions one day, but we may have to go through some terrible times to get there. Alana ramblinwitham.blogspot.com
ReplyDeleteYou don’t have to say “allegedly” anymore, he was convicted of first degree murder. I can only imagine what being in Charlottesville felt like.
ReplyDelete