It breaks my heart—shatters it, really—to wake up every day and see the flood of Jew-hatred crashing over the world. People who don’t just dislike us, but gleefully cheer for our complete erasure as a people. It’s not abstract anymore; it’s visceral, terrifying, and so painfully sobering. And please, let’s be clear: this isn’t just about “Israel.” It’s about us—every Jew, everywhere. Millions upon millions—far more than the entire global Jewish population—spew this rabid, dehumanizing venom daily. They recycle ancient blood libels, invent new tropes, and openly call for violence. And the violence? It never stops. It’s relentless. Influencers with followings larger than the number of Jews alive today spread this poison like a virus, painting giant targets on our backs. Our children feel it in their schools. We feel it in our synagogues—our sacred shuls. We feel it walking the streets of so-called democratic cities that once felt like home. What hurts the most? This hatred isn’t hidden in shadows anymore. It’s normalized. It’s celebrated. By too many of the educated elite: university presidents, mainstream media voices, even members of Congress who should know better. And now, in New York City—home to the largest Jewish community outside Israel—we have a mayor whose wife liked posts celebrating the October 7 massacre as it unfolded, the largest slaughter of Jews since the Holocaust. A leader accused of sympathizing with jihadist causes, who has been linked to rhetoric wishing for Israel’s elimination. How do we breathe in a city where the highest office seems to turn a blind eye—or worse—to the pain of its own Jewish citizens? We’re not just in a physical war. We’re in a spiritual war—a battle for the very heart and soul of the societies we’ve called home, the values we thought were shared. I’m scared. Deeply, achingly scared. Because right now, it feels like we’re losing. From corrupt prime ministers abroad to leaders here at home who fail us, the weight is crushing. How much more can we endure before the world finally sees what’s happening—and cares? This is why we have always needed that tiny sliver of land that is HOME.
