There is an irony in my life of which I am well aware. I am working on a book about the impact on my family of antisemitism. At the same time, I am reluctant to address what is happening in the world today. The complexities of the current situation make my head spin.
My family Holocaust memoir is built around letters from my grandparents trapped in Nazi Germany. It is a reminder of the last time people told us who they were, and we didn’t, for too long, believe them. The increasingly desperate letters were written as a consequence of people—both inside and outside of Germany—underestimating the seriousness of those who say they want to wipe Jews off the map.
While I always knew that antisemitism was alive and well, I have never, until now, experienced its virulence. History is repeating itself. Antisemitism is intensifying in a way that is eerily reminiscent of the 1930s.
Even though I was raised in a non-observant household, my mother was adamant that I not go to school or work on the High Holy Days. “But, Mother,” I remember saying. “That’s hypocritical. I’m not going to synagogue.” “It’s not about going to synagogue,” she replied. “It’s about honoring your Jewish identity.”
Today, Jewish students are being blocked from campuses and barred from classes at colleges and universities. Even before October 7 and the subsequent Israeli response, antisemitism had been on the rise for years. It is hard to know how to process this. You would think that with my family history it wouldn’t be so shocking that this is happening, but it is.
As painful as it is to enter my mother’s and grandparents’ world, I feel safer working in the past, where I can write about what was, rather than trying to make sense of what is. Things look less complicated once we know the end of the story.

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Totally relate !
Our times are beyond frightening and frightful. To be Jewish today feels surreal, familiar yet totally foreign. Caught between “Never again”, “Not this time,” and how can we do to others what has been done to us? We are supposed to be the Light… I , for one cannot yet find the lamp! Thank you. Hope and blessings.
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Very well said, Natasha. I really appreciate your words and your perspective. May we find the lamp soon…
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😔
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Oh, Ruth! I’ve been thinking of you and your family so much these recent months, unable to find words to express my empathy. I keep remembering your Dad’s account of your maternal grandfather’s response when urged to leave the country: “Ich bin ein bodenständiger Deutscher!” He felt was a solid German who was also Jewish, unable to foresee how mistaken he was. How many American Jews who might have felt that way have been forced to question the notion? I can’t imagine what it must be like for you to see the hatred that’s being publicly spewed, but we all have to stand against it together. Love, R
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Hi Ruth,
You are right. It is ironic for you to be working on letters from your beloved grandparents trapped in Nazi Germany and to be experiencing today’s antisemitism. I, too, sense the eeriness of today’s current state. It is worrisome.
It is shocking and alarming that Jewish students are blocked from campuses and barred from classes. I never thought I would see that in this country.
People need to understand they can be both pro-Israel and pro-Palestinian and against Hamas at the same time.
Keep working on your grandparents story. It is important work. May it be for blessing.
B’Ahavah, Schmode
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