‘Coming Out’ As Jewish
by Faye Seager
As a young, British Jew, for years now I have struggled daily to piece together why — in the 21st century — many of us are so hesitant about being openly Jewish while it is supposedly the best time to be one.
I grew up going to a Jewish primary school, secondary school, attended synagogue most weeks, and was overall very active in the community. However, over the last 2 years I felt almost disconnected from my religion to an extent and I have been wondering why I was once proud and shouted loud about my identity, and now I am hesitant about even mentioning it.
My personal experience growing up in Britain as a Jewish person and dealing with antisemitism has ultimately led me to shy away from being open about my identity.
The typical anti-Semitic tropes I endured prior to university such as being told, “You don’t look Jewish!”
And, “Oh, you are Jewish? You must be so rich!”
And my personal favourite, “Your nose isn’t very big for a Jewish person.”
Definitely built up in my mind, and with each one, I became more anxious.
November 2021 was the middle of my first semester, in my second year of university. I went out one evening after a lecture with some friends. The conversation naturally changed course and I began talking a little bit about my gap year.
After the huge spike of antisemitism in the UK in May and June 2021, I rarely told non-Jewish people that I travelled around Israel with a Jewish Youth Movement for the year.
I was of course asked, “Where did you go on your gap year?.”
So I reluctantly told the group.
All but one were genuinely interested and curious about my gap year so I was relieved and also excited that perhaps, my worries were not as loud as they were in my mind.
But then, unsurprisingly, I was put in a really uncomfortable situation when I was asked by one person about my opinions on the conflict, was consistently told that antisemitism in the labour party was not ‘that bad’, and was ultimately made to believe that everything that was happening was my fault, just because I am Jewish.
I was curious whether other Jewish students in different universities were also apprehensive about being open and proud to be Jewish.
Amy Lever is a third year Psychology student at the University of Cambridge.
She told me, “At first I was hesitant to tell people I was Jewish. I was worried that I would be met with political discussions that I didn’t feel super comfortable participating in with people I don’t know super well.”
However, Amy describes how these hesitations slowly faded as she was met with a comforting hand from the people she knew.
“I was lucky in that so many people were not only very accepting (which is the bare minimum) but embraced this difference and found it interesting.” Amy told me.
What I found interesting from the conversations I have had, is that everyone seems to be over-joyed and almost shocked when they meet a non-Jewish person who accepts them for who they are. Amy used the term, ‘bare minimum’ and for me, I believe that because we have been subject to so much persecution and antisemitism, we are in disbelief when we are simply ‘accepted’.
As discussed above, we know that antisemitism can come in many forms. Jewish people have been expelled from countries, annihilated, and discriminated against all throughout history. So, on the surface, you would think that 2022 is the best time to be a Jewish person. And in some sense you would be correct. However, social media has fuelled the concept of ‘casual anti-Semitism’ where individuals can hide behind a screen and say anything they want to, without consequences.
Emily Joseph reads Philosophy and Politics at the University of Leeds and has been subject to harassment on TikTok because of her religion.
She explained to me, “Not only are people hiding behind their screens but when they make their comments there are virtually no consequences.
“I also find that it is the apps themselves that need to be put into check; anything I have ever reported whether it be directed at me or on someone else’s page has always been ignored, which I think is key to people genuinely believing it is OK.”
There are currently 292,000 Jewish people living in the UK and, from 8th May 2021–15th June 2021, 50 anti-Semitic incidents were reported that were related to university campuses (according to the Union of Jewish Students).
Danielle Jeffries, 23 works as a Next Generation Project Coordinator at The Fed. I spoke to her to find out what could be done to make Jewish students feel safer at university.
She told me, “I think that there needs to be more education around antisemitism but this needs to be led by Jewish students and professionals.
“The main issue with education is that others have to want to listen to us. The best way to speak to someone is in smaller, more intimate groups. People are able to relate more if you can make the education personal.”
Danielle attended Bristol University for her undergraduate degree and explained that because antisemitism is so prominent there, she would not have chosen to go there if she had her time again.
Furthermore, Danielle opened up to me, “I personally am not hesitant to own who I really am. Being Jewish defines me. I wear my Jewish identity with huge amounts of pride.”
But she also understands that university can be a scary place for Jewish students.
“I do think that as a whole, the general population of Jewish students are scared that they will be discriminated against and so suppress who they truly are.”
Antisemitism is also known as the ‘the oldest hatred’, but what I have learned from writing this article is that we cannot let hate hold us back from being proud, because if we do, we would be letting them win.
