In Solidarity with Black Lives Matter

Before I was born, my mother's family suffered the loss of over 68 relatives in Thessaloniki, Greece. They died in their home town or in Auschwitz. My grandfather’s brother was sent to Auschwitz after he, as the leader of Jewish Council, refused to deliver young Jewish men to the Nazis in the town square. My grandparents had fled to New York City in 1917 and would be instrumental in bringing Jews to the US after WWII.  

My education on intolerance, racism and hatred started at an early age. My father, who had fought in WWII, possessed several photos that depicted the living skeletons the soldiers found in the concentration camps. From time to time, us kids would ask to see those photos to remind us that one can live peacefully in the world but it could all change in an instant, usually when the country’s economy was turning sour and people were looking for a scapegoat to blame for their problems.

My first experience came at an early age. I would be asked by my teacher to talk to her class about Hanukkah. I didn’t want to do it because it made me an object of wonder and suspicion. I became different than my classmates. Then a friend told me he could no longer play with me because I had killed Christ.  

Years later, a friend was getting married and her future father-in-law said he wanted to invite the Jews because they would have a BBQ in the backyard and roast them. My friend begged me not to upset her wedding plans but I could not attend. At one of my first jobs, my employer talked with another employee, describing the hidden horns of Jewish people.

Growing up I felt an affinity with minorities who suffered intolerance and racial hatred. It became a constant theme in my life. I faced misogeny when I was told what girls and women could do or not not do. As an attorney, I entered the legal field when women comprised 10% of the profession and I was frequently asked if I was a secretary. I faced it when it was almost impossible for women to feel safe in making a complaint about sexual assaults or even rape. Instead, we were blamed for our behavior and asked what clothes we were wearing. 

My ethnicity was not always recognized so I would hear ugly conversations of racial profiling and bigotry that one might not otherwise hear. If I were to consider my white privilege, and I did have benefits from it, that privilege was only superficial as I recognized that my acceptance into society could easily change in an instant. I lived with an uneasy alliance, knowing one day there might be a knock on my door, taking it all away. That was my reality.

But nothing in all my years on earth has frightened more than the last four years. It reminds me of the fear and hatred my grandparents must have faced. Early on, I recognized Trump as a malignant narcissist who controls the narrative of American life. I was surprised that Trump received the support and admiration he seems to command from his followers. He has promoted hatred and violence, and we have permitted it.  When he first came into office, I decided one way to fight against his agenda was to be nicer to others. A small step, no doubt, but it was something I could do. I enjoyed putting a smile on the faces of others. I loved being able to offer an open ear and heart to others, giving them some relief from their problems.

I am glad people are out in the street with the message that Black Lives Matter. I do think the protests are bigger than that. Minorities are suffering from COVID-19 at higher numbers than white people, and the federal response is - to me - sanctioned genocide. Minorities are risking their lives to perform jobs that cannot be done through Zoom meetings in our living rooms. 

I think people who have been silent are now speaking out against hatred and intolerance. We are tired of the governments efforts to normalize hatred and violence. Many of us are saying, no, this is not who we want to be as a nation or as a people. We are better than this. We have to speak out against the damage done to our rule of law and the destruction of our democracy. The soul of this country, as well as our individual souls, depends on standing up to hatred and refusing to allow this regime to continue. Please, don't give in to hate. Stand in support of our black brothers and sisters. AND VOTE!