the personal is political. the political is personal.

at services this shabbos, my rabbi gave an impassioned dvar about how shocked and hurt he was that 30% of american jews under the age of 40 believe that israel is an genocidal state. about how 30% of american jews believe that israel is an apartheid state. it was hard to listen to because on one hand i have heard the way he speaks of israel with such love, for everything she has done for him and his family and for what she means to the jewish people. the symbolism, the heritage, the history.

i grew up in white jewish spaces, my earliest memories involving synagogue for the high holidays, the first time i broke a bone was on passover, and some of the largest communal meals i've shared were through my jewish youth organization. within these environments, israel is sacred. israel is our collective homeland, israel is our god-given right, the land of milk and honey, bestowed upon "the chosen people".

while in these said spaces, there was an aspect of my identity that was never addressed, or acknowledged, or celebrated, which was my chinese heritage. i can count on one hand, with room to spare, the number of other non-white jews within USY, it was another adoptive asian, and then my dear friend and her sister who are bi-racial.

with this said, the context of my relationship with judaism is integral in understanding my internal turmoil that has been especially prevalent with the international attention that the conflict is receiving now.

my family joined our current synagogue in 2010, after having spent the past 4 or so years at bay terrace jewish center. it was upon suggestion from a family friend who had also changed synagogues and raved about this one that spurred my parents to make the change.

in my experience being raised in jewish spaces means the narrative we are fed is largely grounded in the historical oppression of the jewish people, as a continual story of perseverance in the face of adversity. from the romans and babylonians, to the progroms, the inquisition, the holocaust, and the triumphant return to our "rightful" land.

we are shown the beauty, the innovation, the sanctuary that israel exists as for jewish people internationally - a save haven as long as you can prove your jewish identity. we are taught about the IDF, and how they protect our motherland. we are sung stories of our victories in the face of collective animosity and anti-semitism.

i remember when i first heard about palestine, i was 12 or 13 at the summer day camp that my synagogue ran, my counselor told me that it was an anti-semitic movement of terrorists that wanted the destruction of all jewish people. this wasn't the first time i received only the white, conservative jewish narrative in response to a question that deserved a more informed, neutral answer. i admittedly could and should have done my own research (i would have saved myself years of ignorance and a rude awakening upon getting to college). it wasn't until seeing the person who fed me the pro-israel propaganda again recently, that this memory was reignited, and further conversation with my sibling, that i was provided a different perspective on our childhood in these spaces.

here's where it gets tricky for me.

following my dad passing in march of 2020, i found my way back to attending shabbat services on saturdays. being back in the same sanctuary (that's where the torah is, and where the praying happens) that i shared so many saturdays with my dad…the same sanctuary that i had my bat mitzvah (coming of age ceremony)…i felt connected to him when i was there, when i was praying. this feeling has since ebbed a bit, with everything that's been happening in occupied palestine.

my rabbi went out of his way to let me know that that he loves me despite our differences. and i also love him.

it's hard to separate the politics of a person from them as an individual, because their politics feel intrinsically tied to their morals and values and priorities as people. this is the same complicated relationship i had, and still have with my parents.

my views have always been "radical" in comparison to those around me, and now more than ever i feel Othered.

i am only able to meet people where they are willing to be met, and with this specific set of relationships, it turns me inside out because i had to learn how to love people separate from their politics. i love my rabbi and his wife and his kids and my congregation, even though we experience the world vastly different. surprisingly, it is my relationship with judaism that has taken the biggest toll, not just my relationships with those i have met through practicing this faith - though those have also deteriorated since my further radicalization.

what makes this even more difficult is that i poured a lot of my time and effort and love and faith into this space that no longer feels like it has room for me and my opposing ideas and differing opinion of what is our responsibilities as jews.

i don't know how to make sense of this, but i know that it has caused a lot of internal conflict and incited much needed analysis of this facet of my life/identity.

free palestine.

peace. love. health. safety.