How to Be a Brave Jew

“Aren’t you afraid? Why make yourself a target?” my dear Israeli friend asked me as we walked together the morning after the antisemitic attack in Boulder, Colorado. Just prior, two young Israeli embassy employees had been murdered outside the Capital Jewish Museum in Washington, D.C.

She was questioning my decision to be so public about my Jewish identity, why I write for the Jewish Journal, why I proudly post about being a Jew and a Zionist on LinkedIn.

“In Israel we were always a target,” she said. “At least here in the U.S., for now, you can still hide and be safe.”

Her words haunted me. I don’t want to hide. But it no longer feels irrational to think that Jews are being hunted. The fear we feel in our bodies, our synagogues, our children’s schools, it’s real.

Still, I refuse to hide. Externally, I wear my “I’m That Jew” t-shirt when I walk my dog, but internally, I’m struggling.

To better understand what it means to be a brave Jew today, I spoke with three people I trust deeply: Reut Schwartz-Hebron, a neuroscientist and trauma expert; Dr. Elisha Goldstein, a mindfulness author and emotional health leader; and Rabbi Simcha Weiser, a scholar and educator who brings Jewish wisdom into everyday life.

Reut Schwartz-Hebron: Between Real Danger and Anticipated Fear

“I grew up on a little moshav on the border of Jordan,” Reut told me. “Before the age of five, we had constant alarms. We went into bomb shelters all the time. Sirens wailing. A concrete room. My father with a gun. That was normal.”

She spoke calmly, but with intensity. “In my teen years, during the Intifada, it was suicide bombers. They went on buses with explosives packed with nails. It was horrific.”

After moving to the U.S., Reut hoped for peace. Then 9/11 happened. Her son was born soon after. “I developed OCD. I would check the locks twenty times a day. I was holding my baby and dreaming that someone would shoot him in my arms.”

Her professional and personal life led her to study trauma and the brain. 

“We need to distinguish between real threat and what I call anticipatory threat,” she explained. “Your amygdala handles real-time danger: fight, flight, freeze. But the BNST, the bed nucleus of the stria terminalis, anticipates future threats based on past experiences.”

She said, “When we treat the anticipatory zone like it’s the real threat, we intensify the anxiety. We become hypervigilant. That actually makes us less prepared, not more.”

Instead, Reut teaches people to pause and ask: “Am I under threat right now, in this very moment?” She emphasized, “We have to actively recognize the difference. Otherwise, we live as though we’re in constant danger.”

What helped her heal? “Imagery,” she said. “I would picture my family years from now, at a Passover table, safe. Just safe. I had to teach my nervous system that the future could be good.”

Reut’s father, a senior commander in the IDF, once told her, “You either die once, or you die a million times. That’s up to you.” She added, “This anticipatory threat, that’s the dying a million times. But we can manage that.”

Dr. Elisha Goldstein: Emotional Regulation in a Time of Fear

Dr. Elisha Goldstein echoed many of Reut’s insights through the lens of mindfulness. “Every time there’s an antisemitic attack, a surge of emotions rises: anxiety, fear, disgust, even the urge to hide or lash out.”

He said, “There’s not a one-size-fits-all response. Some Jews want to wear their Magen David proudly. Others want to avoid the conversation entirely. Both are valid.”

His four-step self-regulation method is simple but powerful:

1. Recognize the feeling. “That’s the first step in any healing process,” he said. “You can’t change what you can’t see.”

2. Release the emotion from the body. “Stretch. Breathe. Shake it out. Talk to someone. Journal. Let it move.”

3. Refocus your brain. “Instead of asking, ‘Why am I not safe?’, ask, ‘What do I need right now?’ That prompts your natural intelligence.”

4. Renew the moment. “Take a beat. Let your body feel the calm. Let it sink in. That’s how we consolidate positive body memory.”

He explained, “When our emotions are high, our thoughts feel more true. That’s dangerous. We need to create space between stimulus and response.”

And perhaps most critically, he reminded me: “You shouldn’t feel bad about how you feel. Name it. Be curious. That’s emotional health.”

Rabbi Simcha Weiser: Jewish Knowledge is Jewish Courage

Rabbi Weiser came at the question of fear with a spiritual and historical lens.

“When a person feels threatened,” he said, “they want to understand where the threat is coming from. But for many American Jews who don’t have a strong connection to their Jewish identity, the hatred feels completely random.”

He continued, “I’ve seen Jews ask, ‘What am I doing wrong?’ That’s heartbreaking. We saw that in Germany: Jews who thought, ‘If I just blend in more, I’ll be safe.’ It didn’t work.”

He told the story of a photo he once saw at the Holocaust Museum. A Seder in Berlin. Jews who knew they would die. “But they chose to hold a Passover Seder anyway. That, to me, is courage.”

“We can’t understand antisemitism,” he said. “It’s a mystery. But we can understand Judaism. That gives us something to stand for.”

He called on all Jews to deepen their learning. “The more we study, the more anchored we become. We stop quaking. We start standing. And when we know what we stand for, we can defend it.”

My Own Journey

I grew up Reform with very little Jewish learning. During COVID, I felt spiritually adrift. That’s when I found Partners in Torah and I started studying Jewish wisdom weekly with Jessica Weiss, a fellow working mom and immigration attorney. Just 30 minutes each week changed everything.

I found meaning. I found grounding. And I found hope.

My first article for the Jewish Journal was about that moment. Now, years later, I still believe it. Studying Torah gave me the strength to face uncertainty.

We need all the tools: the neuroscience of Reut, the emotional awareness of Elisha, the rooted wisdom of Rabbi Weiser.

Being brave doesn’t mean we are not afraid. It means we keep showing up: at synagogue, on social media, at the Shabbat table, in the face of the world’s confusion and hate.

As Rabbi Weiser said, “We are defending something very precious for the world. That is Judaism.”

And that is why I will not hide.

I am a Jew.

Proudly. Publicly. Bravely.

Audrey Jacobs is a Jewish communal leader, strategic advisor, and TEDx curator, and the mother of three grown sons.