by Elisheva Herrera
These days it’s hard to know who to trust, hard to know who our allies are, especially when we have always advocated for others. Jews were at the forefront of the civil rights movement in the U.S. I may not have put up a Black Lives Matter sign on my lawn, but I sure understood what the organization was trying to say about discrimination. And I understood from a personal perspective. My mother was a dark-skinned beauty, and she had to ride in the back of the bus when she was growing up in Texas. After October 7th, Black Lives Matter (BLM) put out a flyer with paragliders dropping in—just like at the Nova Music Festival, where 350 young people celebrating life and music were gunned down. This told me all I needed to know about BLM and where they stood when it came to Israel and Jews.
So disheartening. Every day there are more and more stories of antisemitism and indifference. We Jews are blamed for what happens in Israel. We’re blamed for the weather, for the economy, for running the world and ruining it, and now we have space lasers.
This is why we must amplify the heartwarming stories. We need them. Here is one.
Names are going unmentioned because she does not have permission to share this story, but some of you may recognize a main character as a good friend of mine. She is a dance instructor in the San Francisco Bay area. My dear friend is not Jewish, but is a staunch ally and defender of Jewish people. She has called me with empathy and said, “I can’t believe this is happening again. Why is the world so upside down? Why do you guys get blamed for everything? It’s so unfair. We have to do something.” She had thought to do workshops together—something to counter this rabid antisemitism that is happening now.
We hadn’t come up with anything, but since then, the American Jewish Theatre is doing just that, using the arts to counter the current narrative. More on that in another article.
It is the end of the semester and my friend’s dance students perform for a final grade. One student, an Israeli, came to her and asked if she could sing an original song she wrote in Hebrew, to express how she feels about the war. My friend said, “Yes, of course!”
The night of the performance came. This Israeli student faced big fear that she would be booed off the stage. It was understandable, given the current climate of Jew hatred and anti- Israel sentiment. This student loathed the idea of her parents, who were in the audience, being subjected to animosity. This
fearful young Israeli woman came to her teacher with her anxiety, wanting to perform, but also dreading what might happen.
My friend did what any good teacher would do. She gave her student a strong, supportive pep talk. She told her, “You’ve got this. I’ve got your back. If someone boos you, dance harder! If a bunch of people boo, I’m turning on all the house lights, I’m getting on that stage, and I’m giving that audience hell!!! You go out there and sing and dance your heart out!” My friend was furious that this was a possibility, and felt terrible that her student was so impacted.
The Sabra performed the heck out of her song and dance, really gave it her all, and displayed her heart and soul for all to see. She was rewarded with a standing ovation and the first to stand was her Palestinian friend.
Not all heroes wear capes and these stories should be normalized. Many people don’t know that 20% of Israel’s population are Israeli Arabs, who live peacefully in a great democracy. It may sometimes feel as if we stand alone and for the most part, we do. But, we also have allies.
Baruch Hashem. We have allies. God bless them. Am Israel Chai!
