An open letter to my friends and family outside of Israel,
For 506 days I have written, posted, and tried to scream from the roof tops about the physical and psychological pain we, Jews, are suffering through during this war with Hamas.
For 506 days I have tried to ask for light and love, compassion and empathy... Understanding.
Perhaps I have not been clear enough.
This past weekend was one of the emotionally toughest of my life as a Jewish person. The horrific news of the Bibas family, babies murdered by hand in cold blood. Bus bombings. Shiri Bibas not being retuned and then finally being returned. The reports on how they actually died by strangulation and then their bodies mutilated and beaten with rocks.
No, I am not ok. I'm angry at your silence. I'm hurt that after years of friendship, sitting at my family's Shabbat table, or joining us for Passover or Hannukah... that you cannot utter one f*cking word for support and love.
I have friends and family here in Israel that tell me about discussions and debates with their families in America, trying to get to the truth and come to an understanding of what is happening. I wish! I'd be happy to talk to any of you, anytime, about any part of this war both locally and globally.
But alas and crushingly surprising is... not my friends. The ones who have posted or reached out to me are ones that I would have never imagined. The ones that I would have thought would be outraged, are silent.
Now, on the inside you might be outraged. You may think of me and say, "oh I hope she's safe." You may speak to your closest friends in hushed voices, making sure no one hears you talking about Israel, or the Jews.
I can't take your silence anymore. It's like a knife through my heart over and over again, for 506 days.
Not one post.
Not one message.
Not one ounce of outrage at the news of the fate of the Bibas family.
Improbable, but maybe you just weren't paying attention. If you're on social media and are my friend, then that means we actually know each other. I don't approve people I've never met. A schoolmate, childhood friend, relative, former coworker, former customer, a member of one of my childhood youth groups. But we've met. Many of you have looked into my eyes and sat at my table talked about my Jewishness. It's not a secret. It's part of who I am.
Yet despite our love and history and friendship, you choose over and over again to not say anything. Nothing. Silence. Not even a private message checking to see if I'm ok. Because like I've said before.. No, I'm not ok. I'm emotionally distraught at seeing the world post "All Eyes on Rafah", or Intifada revolution, but nothing about the Bibas family.
You may not feel it, but I do. I feel that your silence is rooted in fear of speaking out, fear that you'll be scapegoated or grouped with us. You may not realize it, but your hesitation to speak out about this (compared to every other issue you make important) is antisemitic and my heart can't take the betrayal anymore.
Yes, betrayal. It's hard to not feel betrayed when for over 500 days I've talked about Jewish suffering on a global scale. Fears of a final solution wrapped in terrorist propogranda. With the exception of a few people, I have been met with largely silence.
Where are you? Where is your voice? You may not think it matters, or that anyone sees it, but I do. I notice. And for 506 days my heart has slowly broken over the silence.
In hope for brighter days ahead,
Sarah
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