fbpx
[additional-authors]
October 11, 2022
Jasmin Merdan/Getty Images

It was a beautiful day; the sun was shining high above, and the streets seemed as cheerful as ever. Later that afternoon, my phone rang, and on the other side was a friend of mine who is a person of color. I could sense something was wrong.

“What happened to your voice?” I wondered.

She took a deep breath and replied: “You noticed?”

“Of course,” I said. “What’s up?”

Clearly, things were not as usual. “I attended a training today at our corporate office for senior management, titled ‘Inspiring Conversations,’ led by our Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Department. As part of the training, we were asked about a leader we admired. One of my colleagues chose to go first and said.” She paused for a minute, a tremble in her voice, then continued: “Derek Chauvin! Going on to explain that he’d read all about him and how he was ‘incredible’ and ‘fascinating’ and just how much he looked up to him for his dedication to public safety and security. A cloud fell over me that very second. Can you imagine?!”

I was speechless. “What did the others say?” I asked, intrigued. She sighed. “All the moderator had to say was “well, that’s the first time I’ve heard that one.” The others acted as if nothing had happened. I ran out, crying, and all I could hear was laughter behind me. My supervisor came out a short while later to bring me my bag and offer me the day off. I didn’t want a day off! That training was important to me. I wanted my deviant colleague to get the day off and get out of there. I felt a mix of anger, sadness and rage. Tears kept flowing down my cheeks.”

I was so upset listening to her, as I suspect any decent person would be, and rightfully so. But this is where I need to confess to something. My friend is Jewish, and the name mentioned in her training session wasn’t Derek Chauvin but rather Adolf Hitler.

All the rest is accurate, word for word.

Does this change your reaction to what happened?

Sadly, the same care and consideration given to addressing the plights of other minority groups are rarely afforded to antisemitism and Jewish history. It seems as though it is acceptable to belittle and trivialize Jewish issues, including the atrocities of the Holocaust, the moral abyss of humanity. In San Diego, a middle school teacher placed Hitler’s portrait alongside inspirational historical leaders, such as U.S. Presidents Franklin D. Roosevelt and John F. Kennedy, as well as British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, and civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr., in a 7th-grade classroom, telling a Jewish student that “Hitler may have done some bad things, but he also had strong leadership qualities.”

Sadly, the same care and consideration given to addressing the plights of other minority groups are rarely afforded to antisemitism and Jewish history.

Cringe-worthy ignorance.

Indeed, the colleague who uttered that filthy name is worthy of all condemnation and should be schooled for his ignorance and malice. But even more so, all the others present in the room and the group’s moderator are worthy of even more reprimand and condemnation.

Philosopher John Stuart Mill delivered an inaugural address in 1867 at the University of St. Andrews and stated:

Let not any one pacify his conscience by the delusion that he can do no harm if he takes no part, and forms no opinion. Bad men need nothing more to compass their ends than that good men should look on and do nothing. He is not a good man who, without a protest, allows wrong to be committed in his name and with the means which he helps to supply because he will not trouble himself to use his mind on the subject.

Not only did none in attendance utter a word, but, making matters worse, they snickered and laughed it away. The moderator himself did the same and chose to look the other way. And this insensitivity transpired under the banner of “Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion.” What mockery. These terms have come to represent nothing more than a cacophony of hypocrisy and lip service in our modern society.

“I felt repulsed, threatened, scared, and let down by my company,” my friend told me. “Some of my relatives perished in the Holocaust, not to mention the many other millions who lost their lives because of that creature. I’m unsure what my company will do about it or if they just want me to return to work as if nothing happened and sweep it all under the rug. But I’m not going to stay quiet, and they will be hearing from me,” she concluded.

“They will be hearing from me.” Despite the disturbing nature of the issue at hand, my friend’s response is encouraging. Jews are no longer content to sit back and allow our history and suffering to be diminished. And I know that my friend is not alone. What is clear is this: The age of quiet Jews is over.

Did you enjoy this article?
You'll love our roundtable.

Editor's Picks

Latest Articles

A Bisl Torah – The Fifth Child

Perhaps, since October 7th, a fifth generation has surfaced. Young Jews determining how (not if) Jewish tradition and beliefs will play a role in their own identity and the future identities of their children.

More news and opinions than at a
Shabbat dinner, right in your inbox.

More news and opinions than at a Shabbat dinner, right in your inbox.

More news and opinions than at a Shabbat dinner, right in your inbox.