“The use of Berkeley as the paragon of antisemitism in America, as in Franklin Foer’s recent Atlantic article, obscures the fact that my city also houses an incredibly vibrant, creative Jewish community.

That vibrancy has been on display since Oct. 7 as my community has responded to Hamas’ attacks with grassroots organizing that has successfully brought attention to antisemitism in city council resolutions, in public schools and at the university level. Pushing back against an increase of antisemitism, we are drawing closer together.

The experience has put me into contact with Jews I did not know. I’m especially thrilled to be welcoming those who, until recently, were less engaged. Yet I can’t help but worry that these new investments in Jewish communal organizing risk allowing antisemitism to define our sense of Jewishness.

How can we be vigilant against the very real threats that we face without becoming cynical and suspicious of the broader community?

Each small encounter with antisemitism and anti-Israel bias compounds the trauma of Oct. 7. I belong to several WhatsApp groups that sprang up in response to antisemitism and anti-Zionism resolutions in local schools, including calls for cease-fire that deny Israel’s right to defend itself. These groups are organizing tools as well as places for support and solidarity. On the political side, there are regularly urgent requests asking members to email local councilmembers or school administrators.

Group members share screenshots of social media posts by local educators or politicians, emails from schools and other organizations, and even screenshots of text from friends expressing antisemitic or anti-Israel bias, asking for advice about how to respond. Some describe encounters with antisemitism in their ordinary lives, shopping at the grocery store or walking down the street. In some groups, hundreds of messages are posted daily.

But I worry that we are entrenching ourselves in a sense of victimization. Little wonder that many of us in the Jewish community feel unable to move beyond our anger and sadness from Oct. 7. How do we heal if our scabs can be ripped off at any moment?

We are also not the only victims in this terrible ordeal. The suffering of Palestinians is very real. In our sense of victimhood, we become closed off to the pain of our perpetrators even though vulnerability is not a zero-sum game.”

Read the full op-ed on JWeekly.