Friendship: a word that captures the meaning of togetherness, connection, unity, and understanding between two people. Encompassed within that word is an enigma of multi-secular meanings; the imperative to open your heart, that dancing to the tune of difference is healthy, and discussion is beneficial. Friendship is a movement; a spiritual movement translated through deed, body language, and facial expression. It encapsulates the essence of mitzvah.
Growing up, I was always told that friends are supposed to have your back unconditionally, love you unconditionally, and serve as a patriot of protection. Even if stars don’t align on topics of prominence, friends nevertheless, hold hands on the magic carpet towards the gates of infinity. Then, having a friend meant having a lifelong person to spoil, pamper, and adore. I was a firm believer that it did not matter to friends where you came from, what you believed, what you looked like, or how you dressed. Difference was embraced. To my 10-year-old self, I am sorry that what I am about to say will let you down greatly.
Since October 7, my perceptions of friendship have shifted. I have found it incredibly hard to pinpoint a new definition of friendship; one that molds to the narrative of my experience. I would tell my 10-year-old self that although I will always believe that friendship embodies unity and love, I have found that it is no longer about embracing differences. Instead, relationships are now contingent on blind allegiance to social orthodoxies. Personally, many of my friendships have been silenced by the sheer fact that I am a Jew. People who I thought would fight until the end of the world with me, no longer saw me as worth fighting for. My life was no longer worth saving. My Jewish identity, which I embrace with so much joy, pride, and love, had become the infamous Scarlet Letter that my “friends” avoided acknowledging. I found myself constantly asking, why am I being ostracized and chastized? Aren’t friends supposed to lift you up, not bring you down? It seems that under the constitution of “friendship,” Jewish lives remain neglected.
To those who I treated with nothing but respect and dignity, why do you continuously see me through a lens of hate? You allow antisemitism to prevail, while simultaneously, subjecting my life to increased danger. If I took a minute to see myself the way you see me, blurred images of swastikas on buildings, anti-Jewish rhetoric in classrooms, and the denial of Jewish existence would clog my vision. A swastika, the number one symbol that perpetuated Nazi ideology, should have died alongside the Third Reich. But it didn’t. A symbol of death, hatred, demise, and downfall of the Jewish people has become a normalized sight. When I needed you most, you said nothing. You didn’t even have the heart to mention it. An “I’m here for you” speaks volumes but you could not even provide me the decency to do that. Of course I was going to see it, all Jewish students did, and continue to see, the unmasked negativity against the Jewish community. Your silence speaks a thousand words. Your silence puts my life on the line. You failed in your duty as a friend.
To you who were once my friends, I wish you could see your actions through my eyes.
What’s missing from my schema are my human mitzvahs, my walking miracles, my everyday support system. I’m missing the care of “How are you?” The subtlety of “Are you okay?” The passionate “I am here for you.” The gracious “You deserve protection too.” Open your heart, they say! Put your grudges aside! They won’t ask. They never will. There is nothing controversial about calling out hate against Jews. There is no harm in checking in on your Jewish friends. Remember when I said, friendship means serving as a patriot of protection against evil? Indeed it does, but not if it means protecting a Jew.
Sure, you can disagree on things; things that may greatly challenge one another’s viewpoints. That’s natural! Friendship is supposed to be a covenant of endless support, despite the hurdles that life throws our way. That’s the beauty of friendship; you disagree, you discuss, you understand. But right now, there is no discussion, no support, no love. There is no hurdle to jump through, just “goodbye.” There is no understanding, just “see you never.”
I’m missing the love, care, and healing from those I deemed special. I’m confused by those I called my friends. Now I am only seeing strangers.
