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What Pittsburgh learned about solidarity after the Tree of Life shooting

(JTA) — Eight years ago today in Pittsburgh, on the Shabbat morning of Oct. 27, 2018, a gunman walked into a synagogue and killed 11 Jews from three congregations as they prayed.

In the aftermath, my colleague Noah Schoen and I created an oral history project that interviewed 105 Jewish and non-Jewish Pittsburghers about their life stories and reflections on the shooting, and a podcast to share their narratives more widely.

At a time when our society is fracturing across lines of difference, the stories we gathered offer wisdom for how relationships and solidarity can bring healing and bridge divides. Here are four lessons from our interviews.

Reach out to offer support

In the aftermath of the shooting, non-Jewish Pittsburghers reached out to Jewish friends, neighbors, colleagues and acquaintances with texts, phone calls and in-person expressions of comfort.

Steve Weiss, a survivor of the shooting, talked about how his colleagues started asking him more about what it meant to him to be Jewish. Nina Butler, a lay leader in the community, recalled a quiet visit to Hillel Academy made by then-mayor Bill Peduto to let students know he had their backs.

Allies also made a difference when they showed a willingness to listen. Their presence echoed the Jewish mourning practice of shiva, when friends and community members sit with the bereaved. That practice offers an enduring lesson: Be present, listen and take your cues from those who are grieving.

Against the backdrop of a long history of exclusion and persecution fueled by antisemitism, these gestures truly mattered to many of the Jews we interviewed.

Show up publicly and visibly

After the shooting, thousands of non-Jews attended vigils, marches, shivas, funerals and memorials.

One community leader who made a particularly strong impact was Wasi Mohamed, then executive director of the Islamic Center of Pittsburgh. He showed up at community events, funerals, and shivas, organized a Muslim community fundraiser to help pay for the victims’ funerals and offered to arrange for Muslims to stand guard at local synagogues.

While attending a march planned by local activists, Howard Rieger, a former president and CEO of the Jewish Federation of Greater Pittsburgh, was deeply moved by ally after ally declaring that an attack on the Jewish community was an attack on the entire city.

For Howard and other Jews, acts of public solidarity made them feel that they did not have to stand against antisemitism alone.

Trauma ripples outward 

The Oct. 27 attack was motivated by antisemitism and targeted Jews, but its impact was felt far beyond the Jewish community.

Non-Jewish community activist Tracy Baton described how many non-Jews turned to her for support, seeking a place to express their own grief. Washington County resident Holli Smith, who had no personal relationship with the Jewish community, said the shooting shattered her sense of safety as a Pittsburgher.

Their experiences are a reminder that the effect of violence often extends beyond its intended target and that everyone needs a space to grieve.

Build relationships before tragedy strikes

The relationships Jews built with other communities before the shooting were a source of comfort in its aftermath.

Many communities with established ties to their Jewish neighbors organized solidarity events and memorials, like a vigil planned by Bhutanese refugees — many of whom had been resettled by Jewish Family and Community Services of Pittsburgh.

Monica Ruiz, executive director of Casa San Jose, a Latino immigrant-services and advocacy organization, had longstanding relationships with dozens of Jews who regularly volunteered at her organization. On the day of the shooting, she helped organize an interfaith rally and brought her family and other Latino Pittsburghers to participate. She later walked alongside Jewish friends and spoke in solidarity at a march on Oct. 30, 2018.

Relationships like these matter in their own right. They also make it more likely that people will show up for one another when it matters most.

The most enduring lesson of Oct. 27 may be the simplest: Solidarity and close connections help us get through hard times and sustain our collective humanity.

This article originally appeared on JTA.org.

The post What Pittsburgh learned about solidarity after the Tree of Life shooting appeared first on The Forward.

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‘Text me when you get home’ — on confronting hatred as both a woman and a Jew

There’s a universal language that every young woman I know speaks. It’s an expectation, a pact even, to “text me when you get home.” A baseline understanding that the walk home isn’t always safe for us.

A different dialect of that same universal language exists across our Jewish community. It shows up when my mom texts me to ask, “does your shul have good enough security?” before I walk into Shabbat or high holiday services.

Being a Jewish woman in America means having to constantly do the calculus of how to be safe as a woman and as a Jew. And I know that my experience is not unique. With antisemitism rampant and other forms of hate still deeply embedded in our society, so many people across America with overlapping and intersecting identities — people of color, trans people and others — are also doing this calculus every single day.

The question I keep asking myself is why? Not why we have to do this constant mental exercise, but why it isn’t getting any easier. The FBI reported a decline in hate crimes in 2025, but those numbers don’t tell the whole story. Hate crimes often go unreported, whether because people don’t feel safe reporting to law enforcement or because agencies lack the training, resources and requirements to properly identify and document them. And beyond what gets counted, hateful rhetoric, threats, and violence continue to shape how we move through the world. Hate permeates our daily lives in ways that statistics alone cannot capture.

Turn on the news or scroll through Instagram on any given day and you can see why we don’t feel safer, despite what the data is telling us. You can see that the static noise of hate and violence continues to intrude on every aspect of our lives.

Our lives — across identities and generations — have been marked by hate, by story after story of deadly attacks at synagogues, mosques, churches, schools and supermarkets.

Twelve years ago, a man fueled by his hatred of women killed six and injured 14 people in Isla Vista, California — my hometown. When I think about that time in my life, I don’t think about graduating high school or my senior prom. I think about the flashes of images of my town, of the victims, on the news. And eight years ago today, a gunman took the lives of 11 congregants and wounded six others in an antisemitic attack at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh. It was the day before my 22nd birthday, another moment in my life now marked by grief.

Hate and hate-motivated violence are not new phenomena in our country. But in the last decade, we have seen a normalization of hate that is both new and devastatingly familiar.

We have seen this normalization fester online, where once fringe antisemitic, misogynistic, racist, and anti-immigrant beliefs — like those held by the Isla Vista and Tree of Life attackers — are now part of mainstream conversations. We have seen this normalization take hold in our halls of power, where our president, members of Congress, and leaders around the country not only legitimize but promote hateful rhetoric and conspiracy theories.

And, we have seen this normalization thrive in policy, where hate and violence are being systematized in executive orders and legislation by the same leaders who made it normal. Policy can and should be used as a shield to keep people safe. Instead, it’s being weaponized before our very eyes to foster an environment where hate can thrive.

It’s no wonder we don’t feel safe when our president and many of our lawmakers are using their power to target women, LGBTQ+ people, immigrants, and so many others. It’s no wonder we question whether our institutions will protect us when the Department of Justice cancels grants supporting victims and programs designed to prevent hate and violence. And it’s no wonder survivors of gender-based and sexual violence feel abandoned when this administration is deliberately refusing to use Title IX to protect them but is instead weakening this law to harm trans people.

For people my age, who grew up with social media and the 24-hour news cycle that brought reports of hate directly into our homes, it can be hard to fathom what to do at this moment. But there are people all around us who not only know what to do, but have done it before.

I spend my days at National Council of Jewish Women (NCJW) working to dismantle antisemitism and the hate plaguing all of our communities. I am fortunate to work with and learn from people who have dedicated their lives to building a world where every person can feel safe and thrive. We are fighting every day to ensure that our institutions and our laws protect people from hate, violence, and discrimination. NCJW has been doing this work for over a century, and we know that progress is not inevitable.

The Matthew Shepard and James Byrd Jr. Hate Crime Prevention Act, signed into law 17 years ago this week, was the result of nearly 20 years of advocacy — a reminder that disrupting hate and building a safer world requires perseverance. It takes leaders willing to fight against hatred, not embrace it. And, it takes partners, allies, friends, and neighbors to move the work forward together.

That is why we have no choice but to keep showing up, to keep fighting, even when the hate and violence all around us feels like it has taken over our lives. We have to keep working, every day, to build that world we seek, where our rights, our safety, and our dignity are not up for debate.

And hopefully, one day, we will all live in a world where we don’t have to say “text me when you get home.”

 

The post ‘Text me when you get home’ — on confronting hatred as both a woman and a Jew appeared first on The Forward.

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Seeking funding for a Yiddish project for kids or young people?

די פֿישמאַן-פֿונדאַציע פֿאַר ייִדישער קולטור האָט געמאָלדן אַז זי נעמט שוין אָן סובווענץ-אַפּליקאַציעס אויף נײַע פּראָיעקטן פֿאַרן יאָר 2027. די פּראָיעקטן דאַרפֿן האָבן פֿאַר אַ ציל דאָס שטאַרקן ייִדיש ווי אַ לעבעדיקע שפּראַך, באַזונדערס בײַ קינדער און דער יוגנט.

דער טערמין פֿאַר אַפּליקאַציעס פֿאַרן יאָר 2027 איז דער 7טער נאָוועמבער 2026. די אויסגעטיילטע סובווענצן וועט מען מעלדן אין דעצעמבער.

אַלע אַפּליקאַציעס מוזן זײַן אָנגעשריבן אויף ייִדיש און דאַרפֿן נאָכפֿאָלגן די אַפּליקיר-אָנווײַזונגען וואָס איר קענט געפֿינען דאָ.

אַפּליקאַציעס וועלן ווערן באַטראַכט אויף קאָנקורס-יסודות. מען בעט מען זאָל אַרײַנשיקן אַן אַפּליקאַציע (מיט אַלע נייטיקע בײַלייגונגען) דורך בליצפּאָסט צו:

applications@fishmanfoundation.org

The post Seeking funding for a Yiddish project for kids or young people? appeared first on The Forward.

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Democrats leader Golan approached by man with knife on Israeli election day

(JTA) — JERUSALEM —  Israel Police arrested a man carrying a large knife after he approached Yair Golan, head of the Democrats party, as Golan was campaigning in Tel Aviv on Election Day.

“Contrary to reports, no stabbing attempt occurred,” the police spokesman said in a statement.

The police said officers at the scene noticed a “suspicious object” protruding from beneath the coat of a man standing nearby. When they stopped him for inspection, they found a knife in his possession.

In a statement, Golan’s party said the man approached Golan “in a threatening manner” and that “when Golan’s security guards blocked him, a large knife slipped from beneath his clothing and fell to the ground.”

Police described the suspect as a Jerusalem resident in his 20s. He was arrested and taken to a local police station for questioning. They said the investigation “is ongoing.”

Following the incident, Golan said “incitement and violence will not deter us.” In a statement to the press he blamed the attack on Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s negative campaigning and highlighted the ties between one of his spokespeople and Qatar.

“This is the direct result of the poison machine operated by Netanyahu and his Qatari agents. I call on everyone who cares about security and democracy to go out and vote now, so that we can ensure the country we love so dearly becomes a free and safe place once again,” Golan said.

This article originally appeared on JTA.org.

The post Democrats leader Golan approached by man with knife on Israeli election day appeared first on The Forward.

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