You May Forget, But the World Doesn't

A Human Wake Up Call

I wrote this as an American Jew, living in Israel. But I’m sharing it as a human being who sees what’s happening.

If you’re Jewish, this is for you. And if you’re not—you might think it’s not. But I guess that’s the question, isn’t it?

Whether you’ll read to the end and decide if this story is yours… Or wait until history decides for you.

When you’re a Jew in the diaspora …it’s incredibly easy to be an American first and a Jew second. And I get it.

You grew up surrounded by people of all cultures, backgrounds, and religions—and the uniting factor was your nationality. So why should Judaism matter? And even more so, why should Israel?

What’s your tie to some country across the world you’ve never even been to?

All you know is what you were told growing up—maybe in Hebrew school, or around the holidays, or from your parents or grandparents who still cared.

And maybe they cared because they didn’t grow up with the same luxuries you did. Maybe you’ve never been denied anything because of your Judaism.

Maybe you’ve never experienced hate for it.

But they have. Even in the U.S.—especially in the U.S.

Ive heard stories from my own parents of feeling unsafe, of being denied entry to places, of needing to hide their identity. And that’s not even close to the worst of what it can become.

When the World Reminds You

It’s easy to keep that part of yourself on the shelf—dusty, quiet, only brought out when it’s safe or convenient.

But here’s the truth:

When antisemitism rises… When people chant “Death to Jews” in the streets and on your campus… When professors excuse terrorism in the name of liberation… You remember. Or more accurately—the world reminds you.

You are still a Jew. And maybe you forgot. But the world didn’t.

The Stories We Carry Still don’t believe me?

Every single Jew I’ve met who came here in the past two years has stories. Stories of friends dropping them. Peers shunning them. People turning against them overnight.

They forget who you are. They forget your life together, your childhood, your humanity.

You’re no longer a person—you’re a label. A Zionist. A devil.

What took a lifetime to build— Years of friendship, trust, love— Shattered in seconds, Because of something they saw online, About a place you’ve never been, A story they don’t fully know.

We all carry these stories. Stories of choosing to stand up for who we are— And paying a price.

But I’ll never pay another price. Because the cost of denial is far worse than the cost of losing those who only support you when it’s convenient.

So maybe you’re still loved and accepted because you deny a part of yourself.

But in any case— Is that real love?

The Mask Never Really Works

You can try to mask it. Blend in. Tweak your language. Tailor your posts. Adjust your politics in hopes of being accepted.

You can tell yourself you’re “neutral.” That this isn’t your fight. That being Jewish doesn’t have to mean anything anymore—not culturally, not religiously, and definitely not politically.

But no matter how far you run, there will come a moment when that identity won’t stay quiet.

And the people who hate you for it? They don’t care how assimilated you are. They don’t care how progressive or intersectional you are. They don’t care if you’ve never been to Israel.

And—they hope you haven’t. Because that makes you easier to manipulate.

October 7: Did They Ask? On October 7, do you think it mattered that the people at the music festival wanted peace? That many of them were activists who believed in a two-state solution?

The people who came to kill that day didn’t stop to ask for anyone’s views. They didn’t target soldiers or military bases, those they believe responsible for the oppression.

They went after civilians. Artists. Students. Children. Elders.

And among them were some of the very people who had been advocating for Palestinian rights.

Because this was never about disagreement over borders. It was about erasing lives.

The Indoctrination You Don’t See Have you seen the hate that surrounds this tiny sliver of a nation—not just online, but in actual policies, schoolbooks, cultural indoctrination?

Have you seen children raised to believe Jews are devils and that killing us is a mitzvah?

Have you met people who were taught to hate Jews and can’t even explain why?

Because I have. I’ve seen it. I’ve heard the stories. I’ve met the survivors—not just of antisemitism, but of regimes that brainwash their own people with that same hate.

I’m glad you haven’t had to. I’m glad you’ve been protected by oceans and privilege and the luxury of looking away.

But let me be clear:

If you keep denying antisemitism exists… If you keep pretending we don’t need a safe haven… If you keep trading identity for acceptance… Then one day, it won’t be thousands of miles away. It’ll be at your doorstep.

What Will You Say Then? And then what? What will you say when you realize the parts of yourself you tried to erase were the very things the world never forgot about you?

What kind of life is it, if the only way to be accepted is to deny who you are?

And since when did your guilt—for never personally experiencing anything “bad enough” yourself— grow so strong that all you do is advocate for every other ethnicity to stand up, be proud, be given safety… except your own?

Funny how you fight so hard for everyone else’s identity, yet all you want to do is shrink your own out of existence. Funny how you raise your voice for everyone else, yet go silent when it comes to your own people.

I’m not saying it’s easy. It takes courage. That takes integrity. That takes balls.

Embracing who you are is not conceding. It’s not a political statement. It’s not a provocation. It’s not choosing sides.

It’s an act of courage. And maybe it’s time you remember that.

History Has Shown Us The past is the best predictor of the future. And the Jewish people have a long, painful history of forgetting.

Of believing—every few generations—that this time is different. That this country is safe. That these neighbors are different. That we’ve finally made it.

And then—over and over—we ignore the signs until it’s too late.

In Spain, Jews lived peacefully for centuries… until the Inquisition. In Germany, Jews were among the most assimilated, educated citizens… until they were stripped of citizenship and sent to death camps. In Eastern Europe, pogroms erupted after periods of calm. In Iraq, the Farhud came without warning. In Ethiopia, in Russia, in France, in Yemen—again and again: the pattern repeats.

We forget. We relax. We trust. And then they come.

And if you’re not Jewish? If you’re watching from the sidelines— Or worse, cheering from the stands… If you’re reposting slogans you don’t understand, chanting with crowds who call for our death, telling yourself Zionists are horrible people and this isn’t your fight?

You’ve heard the words before. But maybe they need to be heard again:

“First they came for the Communists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Communist. Then they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Socialist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.” —Martin Niemöller

If it wasn’t obvious, let me lay it out for you:

First they came for the Zionists, and I did not speak out—because I didn’t want to be associated with them. Then they came for the Israelis, and I did not speak out—because I told myself it was about politics, not people. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was trying so hard not to be “one of those Jews.” Then they came for the Westerners, and I did not speak out—because I thought I was safe if I stayed quiet. Then they came for me— and there was no one left to speak.

The Dangerous Illusion Many of you aren’t just staying quiet. You’re clapping. You’re sharing posts. You’re marching under banners that call for our destruction.

You think you’re on the right side of history. But history sees you—choosing the mob over your own neighbors, your own values, your own country.

The Irony No One Wants to Acknowledge Do you know what would happen to you in the places you’re defending?

If you’re LGBTQ, liberal, non-religious, a woman who speaks too loudly— you wouldn’t be celebrated. You wouldn’t be safe. You’d not only be silenced. But oppressed. Punished. And slaughtered.

The irony is staggering: You’re chanting for the downfall of the only country in the region where you’d actually be free.

The Bigger Picture Some countries don’t recognize Israel’s existence. Others ban Israeli passport holders entirely. Sometimes—being Jewish is enough to make you a target.

It doesn’t end where it starts. First it’s the Zionists. Then it’s the Jews. Then it’s the West. Then it’s you.

This isn’t just our warning. It’s yours too.

So what will it take?

For Jews to stop shrinking out of guilt—

And for non-Jews to stop thinking this doesn’t concern them.

To stand up—for us, and for yourselves.

Alongside all the other groups you’ve learned to fight for.

Another Holocaust?

Another train?

Another silence?

You don’t need to wait for history to repeat itself

To remember who we are.

Who you are.

And if you’re still wondering what we’re fighting for— It’s not just survival. It’s Israel.

And still, it fights—every single day—to choose life over the chants of millions calling for its death.

A country that’s strong and resilient—but also deeply human.

Where people run to bomb shelters at night— and by day, they dance, sing, love, and live.

Where music plays from balconies on Shabbat. Where strangers help you carry your groceries home. Where people argue loudly and love even louder. Where grief is collective, and joy is defiant. Where Arab, Druze, Jewish, and Christian doctors work side by side. Where democracy is real—and it’s worth fighting for. Where freedom is fragile, but never taken for granted, knowing it means going to the army, risking your life, and losing the people you love to protect it.

A Little Perspective: Israel is roughly the size of New Jersey— and holds just over 9 million people.

It’s surrounded by more than 20 Arab and Muslim-majority countries, spanning from Morocco to Iran, totaling over 400 times its landmass and more than 600 million people.

And yet—this tiny democracy is treated as the global villain.

And here’s what they won’t tell you: Israel is not a “Jewish army” fighting Muslims. It’s a multiethnic, multi-faith country — and that includes its defenders.

Druze, Bedouins, and even some Muslim and Christian Arabs serve in the army, fighting with their Jewish brothers and sisters.

But aside from that Arabs live, work, and raise families in Israel — with rights and freedoms they’d never have in many of the surrounding countries….

They are doctors, teachers, engineers, pilots, judges, and parliament members. They speak Hebrew and Arabic. They build businesses. They vote. They are a part of Israeli society

Because this isn’t just about Judaism. It’s about freedom. About a nation that, while not perfect, strives to make coexistence real —

On Arab Jews, Exile, and the “Colonizer” Lie And fun fact — Israel isn’t full of “white colonizer Jews.” In fact, a huge portion of Israel’s population is made up of Arab Jews — Jews from Iraq, Syria, Egypt, Yemen, Morocco, Libya, Tunisia, Algeria, and more.

They didn’t come here as conquerors. They came as refugees — fleeing violent antisemitism, government persecution, and expulsion from the very Arab countries they had lived in for centuries.

Entire communities were uprooted. Their homes and businesses were seized. They were stripped of their citizenship, their rights, their safety — and in many cases, their lives.

Arab Jews were not privileged. They were hunted. And when no one else would take them — Israel did.

So no, Israel is not a European colonial experiment. It’s a nation built by survivors — both of the Holocaust and of systemic antisemitism in the Middle East and North Africa.

They didn’t come to dominate. They came to survive. And to build a home where Jews — of every background — could finally live in safety.

And I know the word “colonizer” gets thrown around a lot these days. But I invite you to pause and consider whether it applies here.

Jews aren’t foreigners in this land. We’re indigenous to it.

If anything, Jewish history in Israel echoes more closely with the story of Native Americans than European settlers—exiled from our homeland, scattered, persecuted, and only generations later able to return.

Israel wasn’t built as a colonial conquest. It was built as a refuge.

So if you’re carrying the weight of America’s history—and I understand why you would be—please be careful not to project that guilt onto a place that comes from a completely different story.

Justice isn’t one-size-fits-all. And sometimes, our good intentions can blur the truth if we haven’t taken the time to really listen, learn, and understand.

What Israel Really Is Israel is one of the most innovative, creative, and forward-thinking countries in the world. It sends aid across the globe. It invents life-saving tech. It defends not only itself—but the values many in the West claim to hold.

And whether the world admits it or not— It’s the first line of defense between the West and the forces that want to see it fall.

So if you’re not Jewish? If you’re watching from the sidelines—

Or worse, cheering from the stands… If you’re reposting slogans you don’t understand, chanting with crowds who call for our death, telling yourself Zionists are horrible people and this isn’t your fight?