We’ve seen what real moral clarity looks like in America.
When Black communities said Black Lives Matter, the call was specific, clear, and it was heard. When Asian communities said Stop Asian Hate, the response was precise, and it was supported.
But when Jews are attacked, something shifts. The clarity disappears. The language softens. And suddenly, it becomes about “everyone” and “all humanity.”
The Jewish community has never stood on the sidelines. Ever. We marched alongside Martin Luther King Jr. We showed up for our Asian neighbors when they were targeted during the surge of anti-Asian hate during Covid era chaos. We have consistently stood up, spoken out, and locked arms with others facing hate and, not because it was easy, but because it was right. As Jews, we are commanded to pursue justice, to repair the world through tikkun olam.
So, when Jewish children are attacked, on holy days, in our own neighborhoods, and the response is silence, or worse, a reframing into something broader and more comfortable, it doesn’t feel like unity. It feels like erasure.
This is not about “all of us.” This is about Jews being targeted. Period.
And when that reality is diluted into language that avoids naming antisemitism directly, it doesn’t build bridges. It weakens them. Because real relationships are not built by generalizing pain. They are built by recognizing it, clearly, specifically, and without hesitation.
That is why it was so jarring to hear a senior representative from the Anti-Defamation League stand at a rally in Skokie after two separate groups of Jewish youth on neighborhood playgrounds in one weekend and declare that we “were not ready to say that either of these (incidents) were antisemitic”.
Not ready?
Jewish children were asked if they were Jewish before being harassed and attacked. What more clarity is needed?
When institutions created to protect the Jewish community hesitate to name what is happening, it sends a dangerous message not just internally, but to the world watching. If we minimize our own pain, others will follow. If we hesitate to call out hatred against Jews, we create space for it to happen again and again.
Silence is not caution. It is permission.
I say this not just as a community leader, but from lived experience. I grew up in Ukraine. We assimilated. We blended in. We carried different names. And still, we were targeted. We received threats. We had to be evacuated in the middle of the night because we were Jews.
History has already shown us this truth. We cannot assimilate our way out of antisemitism. We cannot soften our way out of it. And we certainly cannot stay quiet and expect it to stop.
If we do not stand up for ourselves, no one else will.
Jewish lives matter. Not as part of a broader statement. Not as a footnote to someone else’s narrative.
On their own.
And it’s time we start acting like it.
Anna Steinberg is the CEO and Founder of This Convo, an organization dedicated to building relationships between communities through dialogue.
