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This gaming platform has ‘zero tolerance’ for antisemitism. Holocaust reenactments keep reappearing anyway.

As the game “German Camp” begins, you arrive at a virtual building with a large German flag on display. There, on the gaming platform Roblox, your avatar can put on a helmet labelled “Stahlhelm,” the steel headgear worn by Nazi soldiers during World War II. Next door, soldiers stand watch over fenced-in barracks where characters labeled “noobs” — a derogatory term for inexperienced gamers — line up to be killed.

“This is the best place in the world,” a user named Bravado writes in the chat before shooting your character — as happened to this reporter.

Roblox, where users can create their own virtual worlds — and explore millions more made by other players — says it has a zero tolerance policy against antisemitism. But Holocaust scenes and imagery have continued to appear on the platform for years.

In 2022, Roblox removed a simulation of Nazi gas chambers, which users could operate by pressing “execute.” The Global Network on Extremism & Technology found a game titled “1941 – Konzentrationslager Auschwitz” on the platform in October 2025.

“Hate or harassment targeting Jewish people or any religious community is strictly prohibited on our platform,” Roblox spokesperson Eric Porterfield wrote in a statement, adding that “we take swift enforcement action against users we find violating our rules.”

Roblox removed “German Camp” shortly after the Forward’s inquiry about the game and confirmed it violated the platform’s policies. The game, advertised for ages 13 and older, had been played 174 times and was available for about two years.

‘No system is perfect’

Roblox prohibits content that “recreates specific real-world sensitive events” and “supports, glorifies, or promotes the perpetrators or outcome of such events,” including the Holocaust.

But “no system is perfect,” Porterfield wrote in a statement, adding that Roblox relies on a combination of AI detection, human reviewers, and community reporting to identify and remove antisemitic content.

In the case of the “German Camp” game, a member of Roblox’s public policy team told the Forward that the game would have been flagged immediately had it used the term “concentration camp.” Without such keywords, however, content can be more difficult to detect.

Roblox’s AI filters scan for terms like “Nazi,” automatically removing some content and identifying ambiguous cases for human review. The company works with thousands of contractors to evaluate flagged material, and players can also report misconduct directly. Roblox said it then evaluates player histories to help determine the severity of the offense, and disciplines players accordingly.

But Constantin Winkler, a researcher at the Global Network on Extremism & Technology who has studied extremist content on Roblox, said users evade these guardrails by intentionally misspelling words or communicating in code.

For instance, the Global Network on Extremism & Technology identified usernames such as “lolocaust,” “Atolf Zitler,” and the use of “88” — code for “Heil Hitler,” with “H” being the eighth letter of the alphabet.

Roblox said it found and removed 61 accounts, one game, and two groups that violated their policies after the Global Network on Extremism & Technology’s report in October about extremist content on Roblox.

But the Forward this month identified users named “konzentrationKamp,” “konzentrationausch,” “konzentrations_lager,” and “holowocaust,” and games titled “The Camp 1942” and “271k or 6 million,” referencing the conspiratorial claim that only 271,000 Jews were killed in the Holocaust. Other problematic content was more explicit: a game titled “JEWS,” featuring images of men in black hats clutching money bags, or “LIFE IN ISRAHELL,” featuring Stars of David set ablaze.

“They try to take some things down, but you can always find it again,” Winkler said.

Roblox works with organizations including the Anti-Defamation League, Tech Against Terrorism, and the Simon Wiesenthal Center to constantly audit and strengthen its moderation policies, according to its policy on safety and civility.

According to Winkler, Roblox users also frequently encounter players building or drawing swastikas during live gameplay. Because these actions happen in real time, he said, they are far more difficult to moderate than problematic usernames or pre-built worlds.

The swastikas Brown encountered while in a spray paint game on Roblox. Courtesy of Trent Aprile

That’s a familiar challenge for Tristan Brown, a 19-year-old Jewish college student who was playing a Roblox spray-paint game when, suddenly, his player was surrounded by graffitied swastikas. He and his friends quickly logged off.

“It makes me want to stop playing on the platform, because if I’m gonna be playing, why can’t I be respected?” Brown told the Forward. “I wish there was more of a crackdown on things like that.”

A broader challenge

Video games reenacting concentration camps are not new: In 1991, a video game called “KZ Manager” circulated in Austria and Germany, where the player runs the Treblinka death camp.

Hate groups have also long used video games as a medium of choice. In 2002, the white supremacist group National Alliance created a video game titled “Ethnic Cleansing,” a first-person shooter game where players participate in a race war, killing stereotypically-depicted Jews, African Americans and Latinos.

But these games are generally created by extremists, for extremists, Winkler said. Roblox, meanwhile, is a mainstream gaming platform with 82.9 million daily active users last year. About 40% of its users are under the age of 13.

Roblox is far from the only popular gaming platform that’s struggled to crack down on hateful content: Minecraft, Steam, and Discord have all come under fire for neo-Nazi content — as has virtually every video game or streaming platform with a substantial following. In the digital era, it’s practically a given that platforms built around user-generated content will attract hate. Video games, many of which combine anonymity, creative freedom, simulated violence, and the ability to interact with other players, are especially fertile ground for extremism, Winkler said.

In response to the spread of extremist content, educational Holocaust-themed video games have emerged, including a virtual Holocaust museum hosted on Fortnite. But these efforts have also drawn harassment: The project’s release was delayed after white nationalist influencer Nick Fuentes urged neo-Nazis to target it.

A 2022 survey from the Anti-Defamation League found that 34% of Jewish gamers said they experienced identity-based harassment while playing. Players most often encountered white-supremacist ideologies in the games Call of Duty, Grand Theft Auto, Valorant, PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds, and Fortnite, the ADL found. Then last year, the ADL tried logging onto various video games with the username “Proud2BJewish” — and 38% of their gameplay sessions resulted in some form of harassment.

Meanwhile, overmoderation — particularly when it relies on unreliable artificial intelligence — can backfire, sweeping up innocent users and undermining trust in moderation systems. At the same time that Roblox has faced scrutiny for failing to curb antisemitism, its forums are rife with complaints that the platform’s moderation system is plagued by false positives.

Efforts to police content in video games have also long raised concerns about censorship and government overreach. After the 1999 Columbine High School massacre, a moral panic took hold around video games when the perpetrators, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, were revealed to be avid players of violent video games. Subsequent research has largely failed to establish a causal link between violent video games and real-world violence.

For Winkler, the central danger is not that a player will encounter a depiction of a concentration camp and immediately become radicalized. Instead, he said, the concern is more insidious.

“In our research, we don’t even care about, Is it ironic? Is it humor? Because extremist content is extremist content, and it’s available,” Winkler said. “It’s really dangerous because it’s part of a normalization process.”

The post This gaming platform has ‘zero tolerance’ for antisemitism. Holocaust reenactments keep reappearing anyway. appeared first on The Forward.

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In ‘Something We Said,’ Richard Pryor’s daughter finds words to discuss the unspeakable

Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor didn’t set out to write a memoir. A professor of history at Smith College with a focus on race, she had published an article on the etymology of the n-word in 2016 and wanted to continue her work in a book. But as she began to explore the word’s history in America, it became clear there would be no way to tackle the issue without writing about her father Richard Pryor.

“Why I make the connection between me and my father isn’t simply because he was famous, but because he put the n-word on the pop culture map,” Pryor told me in an interview, adding that he specifically used “the Black version of the n-word in a subversive way in his comedy — and then a decade later disavowed it.”

Richard Pryor was one of the first Black comedians to use the n-word on stage and he did so boldly, in a way no Black performer really had. He embraced it as a way to assert his identity and as a way to mock white racism. He used it to connect him to his Black audience who could understand the jokes he made about racial trauma in America in a way non-Black audiences couldn’t. The n-word, Pryor writes, was a staple in many of her father’s jokes, was featured in the title of two of his most famous comedy albums, and became his “comedic trademark.” But after he traveled to Kenya in the 1980s, Richard Pryor had a revelation about race and stopped using it.

Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor Photo by Isabella Dellolio Photography

In her new book Something We Said, Pryor, the daughter of the legendary comedian and actor and his first serious white (and Jewish) girlfriend Maxine, skillfully traces her relationship with her father as she was growing up, her relationship to the n-word as a professor of Black history, and the story of the n-word in America. It starts in the 2010s, when a white student said the n-word in one of Pryor’s classes, then rewinds to the beginning of her relationship with her father, who she met for the first time when she was six years old in 1974. The book toggles between the timelines over the course of its 265 pages. Interspersed are what Pryor labels “Interludes,” which track the history of the n-word from the American slave trade to the modern day.

The history of the n-word is far more complex than most people know — and, Pryor reveals, so was her father. He had both a tender and tough side, he could be closed off and also incredibly giving. Although he often presented himself with an impenetrable confidence and swagger, he could never stand up to his domineering grandmother, who he saw pimp out his mom.

The book challenges people’s knee-jerk reactions to the word and discusses the duality of its significance, how it is a word with a hate-filled past that has also been a signal of solidarity. And its reclamation by Black Americans isn’t a new phenomenon. Pryor traces it all the way back to the era of American slavery, including in a work song about a Black folk hero.

Pryor noted that there’s a tendency to “blame artists like my father and of course, hip hop”  for the popularity of the n-word among African-Americans today, but pointed to its politically subversive nature as the source of its endurance in the Black community.

Pryor said she hopes the book will help people “understand that the n-word isn’t just part of a national trauma, like a relic of our past as a nation” but that “it causes these really intimate wounds and becomes a really personal trauma that’s worth exploring and talking about.”

Writing something that is simultaneously deeply personal and intricately historical is not an easy feat — although Pryor’s time jumps feel effortless.

“Many of the things that happened to me were sort of locked in a little memory bubble,” Pryor said. “And I had only interacted with them as that 11 year old, as that 16 year old, as that 22 year old, and had not interacted with them again, as a mother and a wife and a professor, et cetera, as an adult.”

This digging provoked a lot of personal reflection. In one story in Something We Said, Pryor recounts being the only Black girl at a friend’s bat mitzvah in the 80s. Trying to impress a boy and remembering how her father’s use of the n-word made people laugh, Pryor gave her friends permission to call her the n-word, a decision she quickly regretted.

“I had to do a lot of digging about, like, why did I do that? Like, why did I invite that even though I hated that word?”

This story captures the often inexplicable nature of navigating the complexity of race and belonging in America, something that can be complicated for anyone but especially someone of mixed-race heritage. Pryor also had to contend with being a minority in Jewish spaces.

Elizabeth and her dad meeting for the first time at a Hilton in Newark, New Jersey, 1974 (left). Elizabeth and her mother, Maxine (right). Courtesy of Elizabeth Stordeur Pryor

“My mother had me in temple in like second and third grade as soon as we moved to LA and literally nobody there could figure it out,” Pryor said. “Like it was a math problem that was unfathomable. It was pi. Like they could not figure out how I was Black and Jewish.”

While Pryor includes many jaw-dropping stories from her life and from American history, what may baffle people the most is that until the 2010s, Pryor had never watched one of her father’s films or listened to any of his comedy records all the way through (she had kind of listened to one before was when she was a little girl and she fell asleep to it). She wrote that “not knowing my father as a public figure made me feel closer to him as a private man.”

She never went out of her way to make it known that she was Richard Pryor’s daughter. In 2016, during a talk she gave at Smith on the n-word, Pryor finally went public. I asked her how it felt to now be known as his daughter.

“I think I was surprised by how much I like it,” she told me with a laugh.

“I was always proud of my father,” she said. “I just was tired of people and their forward curiosity.”

“What’s happened, in some ways by coming out as his daughter has been so the opposite of that,” Pryor said. “I’ve heard how deeply he touched so many people in a way that maybe I couldn’t hear it before, or I haven’t heard it before.”

Something We Said has given Pryor even more ways to connect with her father.

“One of the highlights for me about writing this book is the kind of healing that happened from it,” she said, noting that she felt closer to him than she “remembered feeling when he was alive.”

“When he died in 2005, I was like, ‘Wow, that’s it. That’s our story.’ And I just feel like it’s really powerful how the universe works, that that didn’t have to be our story, that our story continues.”

The post In ‘Something We Said,’ Richard Pryor’s daughter finds words to discuss the unspeakable appeared first on The Forward.

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In the race for Jerry Nadler’s seat, much talk on Israel but little disagreement

With U.S. aid to Israel and the wars in Gaza and Lebanon pressing for voters in many Democratic primaries, the race to succeed Rep. Jerrold Nadler in Manhattan stands out for the relative consensus among the leading candidates on Israel.

Nadler, who is retiring after 33 years in the House, represents a heavily Jewish district and served as the leading voice in Congress for liberal Jews, making the choice of his successor a significant one nationally.

During a televised debate on Thursday between top contenders, New York Assemblymembers Alex Bores and Micah Lasher, political scion Jack Schlossberg and attorney Goergie Conway spent more time sparring over super PAC money, artificial intelligence and Donald Trump than on the Middle East conflict.

The three largely shared a broad agreement on support for Israel. None embraced the characterisation of Israel’s military campaign in Gaza as a genocide. They all touted support for a two-state solution and backed continued U.S. funding for Israel’s Iron Dome missile defense system.

The contrast with other competitive Democratic primaries was striking. In congressional races in New York City and some others nationally, debates have been dominated by contentious exchanges over military aid to Israel, accusations of genocide and the growing influence of anti-AIPAC politics within the party. Earlier this week, Israel consumed a significant portion of the televised debate between Rep. Dan Goldman and former New York City Comptroller Brad Lander in a neighboring congressional district.

In another neighboring district, former Columbia University Gaza War encampment activist Daraliza Avila Chevalier is challenging Rep. Adriano Espaillat with his support for Israel front and center. And in a TV debate this week in the race to replace retiring Rep. Nydia Velazquez in Brooklyn, democratic socialist Assemblymember Claire Valdez — who like Lander and Avilla Chevalier has been endorsed by Mayor Zohran Mamdani — called Israel’s actions in Gaza “U.S.-funded genocide.”

The relative consensus in Nadler’s district reflects the politics of the district they hope to represent. Jewish voters make up an estimated 30% of the Democratic primary electorate, which stretches across Manhattan’s Upper East and Upper West sides.. When Nadler ran for reelection in 2022 after redistricting forced him to go head to head with Rep. Carolyn Maloney, he campaigned on the need to preserve Jewish representation from New York City in Congress.

The candidates themselves have close ties to the Jewish community. Lasher, Nadler’s endorsed successor, is Jewish. Schlossberg, a grandson of President John F. Kennedy, was raised Catholic by his mother, Caroline Kennedy, but identifies as Jewish. Bores’ wife, Darya Moldavskaya, is Jewish, and the couple are raising their son Jewish.

Another factor distinguishing the race from other Democratic primaries is the district’s political makeup.

In last year’s Democratic mayoral primary, New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani, an outspoken critic of Israel who rose to power by embracing pro-Palestinian activism, won handily in the Goldman and Espaillat districts, but the 12th District split almost evenly between Mamdani and former Gov. Andrew Cuomo. The candidates also took different approaches to Mamdani. Lasher and Bores did not endorse Mamdani until after he secured the Democratic nomination, mirroring Nadler’s own cautious approach. By contrast, Schlossberg endorsed Mamdani in the primary and has generally been the most critical in the field of Israeli government policies.

Mamdani, who resides in Gracie Mansion in the district, has said he won’t endorse in the race, but intends to cast a ballot. In Thursday’s debate, the candidates gave Mamdani A- and B grades.

Polling suggests the race remains highly competitive. A recent Emerson College survey showed Lasher with a slim advantage over Bores, while Schlossberg and Conway trailed behind. But most significantly, 32% of likely voters had yet to make up their minds.

In an online poll of 700 debate viewers by host PIX11, 42% said Bores won the debate, compared with 33% for Lasher and 24% for Schlossberg.

The leading candidates

Micah Lasher, 44, enters the race with perhaps the deepest roots in New York politics. A longtime Democratic operative and protégé of Nadler, Lasher has assembled support from many of the district’s traditional political leaders.

Lasher started his public career as a special assistant to Nadler in 2007. He previously worked for former New York State Attorney General Eric Schneiderman, New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg and Gov. Kathy Hochul. At 17, he was an informal adviser to then-Assemblymember Scott Stringer, who is also Jewish. He is serving his first term in the State Assembly.

Growing up in the Upper West Side, Lasher first gained attention as a magician.

His campaign reflects continuity with the brand of liberal Zionism long represented by Nadler, co-chair of the Congressional Jewish Caucus: support for Israel’s security, opposition to Benjamin Netanyahu’s government and a commitment to a two-state solution.

Alex Bores, 35, has emerged as the progressive coalition-builder trying to bridge fierce Israel critics and mainstream Jewish voters. He attracted support from organizations aligned with the Democratic Party’s left flank, such as the Bernie Sanders-aligned Our Revolution, New York Progressive Action Network and PSC-CUNY, despite describing himself as a Zionist supporter of Israel.

Bores, a former Palantir data scientist, also serves in the state Assembly. His congressional campaign has become a focal point of a major political proxy war over the regulation of AI.

Some Jewish leaders have expressed concern over how Bores would align with the groups who backed him in Congress, as tensions between progressive activists and Zionist organizations continue to grow. Bores also faced scrutiny over social media posts of his father, William, some equating between Nazis and Zionists. Bores told Jewish Insider he disagrees with his father’s views.

Jack Schlossberg, 33, has become the race’s most recognizable figure because of his family name and social media presence. He has touted the younger generation’s voice wrestling publicly with questions of Jewish identity and Israel.

Raised Catholic but identifying as Jewish through his father, Schlossberg frequently references his Jewish heritage when discussing Israel and antisemitism. At the same time, he has adopted positions that place him to the left of many Jewish organizations, particularly his support for halting transfers of offensive weapons to Israel.

Schlossberg repeatedly shares that contrast on X as he challenges his rivals on Israel policy.

The online influencer turned political candidate made Jewish security a central pillar of his campaign. He said that if elected, he would immediately introduce legislation to nearly double federal funding for security upgrades at synagogues and other Jewish institutions.

Their views on U.S. military assistance for Israel

At Thursday’s debate, as previously, the leading candidates voiced support for funding Israel’s Iron Dome missile defense system amid growing calls for ending all U.S. aid to Israel.

Arms sales and aid for offensive weapons represented the clearest divide among the candidates.

Lasher said he’d support certain conditions on military aid in accordance with the Leahy laws, which enable the State Department to prohibit military aid to foreign countries when there is credible evidence that they have committed gross human rights violations.

Bores said he’d “strengthen those laws significantly” so they apply equally to Israel, Saudi Arabia and Egypt.

Schlossberg, however, said he would support Democratic efforts to block transfers of 1,000-pound bombs and oppose the sale of bulldozers that could be used for demolitions in Gaza or the occupied West Bank. He went on to accuse his rivals of lacking the “courage” to challenge the status quo.

“The Leahy laws give Donald Trump and Marco Rubio full discretion over what constitutes a humanitarian crime,” Schlossberg said. “I’m not comfortable passing the buck to them, and I think the candidates on this stage should be strong enough and have enough courage to actually answer the question.”

The war in Gaza

All three candidates voiced criticism of Israel’s handling of the war in Gaza, citing the dire humanitarian situation and the civilian death toll. However, when asked whether Israel’s actions in Gaza constitute genocide, they declined to use the term.

Lasher maintained that the debate over definitions often “does more to divide people of good faith than it does to find common ground. He called the killing of tens of thousands of people in Gaza “horrific,” while emphasizing the need to recognize the loss of civilian life.

Bores similarly said he’s “not comfortable” using that word “because of the high intent threshold that is required as part of it.” He said that while there are ongoing international investigations, the United States should focus on ending atrocities and expanding humanitarian aid.

Schlossberg also stopped short of calling the war genocide, though he delivered the sharpest criticism of Israel’s military conduct. “Israel had every right to defend itself following Oct. 7, but what has happened since then has gone above and beyond,” Schlossberg said. He added that the more important question was what policymakers would do next, pointing to his position on halting offensive weapon transfers.

Conway, a former Never-Trump Republican who is running on a platform to impeach President Donald Trump, said that while Israel ​”did too much” in the name of self-defense, I don’t think it meets the threshold of genocide … and I don’t believe that we should abandon Israel as an ally.”

The debate followed a candidate forum Wednesday at which the candidates spoke at greater length about their attachment to Israel, support for a settlement between Israel and the Palestinians, and their opposition to Netanyahu.

The post In the race for Jerry Nadler’s seat, much talk on Israel but little disagreement appeared first on The Forward.

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A Hasidic wedding entertainer tries to keep up with the times — if his ego will let him

When Israeli director Gidi Dar made his film Ushpizin in 2004, it was one of the first pieces of Israeli media to humanize the Hasidic community for a secular audience. Now, more than 20 years later, during which he focused on his music and other film projects, he’s returned to the Hasidic world with The Wedding Entertainer (The Tale of Moishe Badhan), a humorous and heartfelt look at Hasidic wedding performers.

In an interview, Dar told me he had thought he was done with movies about Hasids. But when his friend Shruli Rand, the lead actor in Ushpizin and co-writer of Dar’s animated film Legend of Destruction, told him about badhans — professional wedding entertainers who have a history dating back to the Talmudic age — they quickly came up with a story.

“I’m always looking to connect to my heritage, to my tradition,” Dar said. “I’m not religious. I try to connect to the narrative, to the history of our storytelling.”

Moishe Striker, played by Rand, is a formerly famous badhan in Jerusalem who has been struggling to find work due to his alcoholism. When his daughter becomes set on getting married, Moishe has to find a way to raise the money for the wedding. Luckily, his wealthy childhood friend is about to marry his son to the daughter of an Israeli tea mogul.

The American-raised son is set on having flashy wedding entertainer Mehsulem Kaliker, played by comedian Elon Gold. But Moishe and his crafty kabbalah-practicing daughter find a way to get Moishe involved, hoping to reestablish his reputation, with a little help from kabbalah — and blackmail.

The story, co-developed by Dar and Rand, teeters between being a lighthearted farcical comedy and a drama about unfulfilled potential. Moishe’s ambition causes him to take comically big swings but also pushes him towards self-destruction. It’s not just the alcoholism he has to keep under control, which is hard to do in a community that celebrates almost every occasion by drinking, but his own ego.

The film fully immerses viewers in the Hasidic world — not one character is from outside of the community. The actors also speak Yiddish, which two of the actors — both ex-Hasids — knew already; Rand and his wife — who plays his wife in the movie — had to learn.

Although the tension in the film is between an Israeli and an American badhan, Dar explained that the conflict is really between old traditions and modern trends.

Meshulem (Elon Gold) and Moishe face off during a wedding reception. Courtesy of ZOA Films

According to Dar, the badhan traditions Moishe uses originated in the shtetls of Eastern Europe in the 18th century and 19th centuries.

Meshulem doesn’t rely on old fashioned jokes and songs set to Klezmer music like Moishe does; he performs with backup singers, strobe lights, and a blaring electronic-dance music soundtrack. His style fits with that of the groom, who is first seen in Jerusalem with his tallit hanging down from under a designer hoodie.

Traditional badhans may not be flashy, but Dar believes they hold an important spot in Jewish culture.

“I think they’re in a way the origin of Jewish humor,” Dar said. “This specific humor, as we know it, is coming from this era of the diaspora, the late era of the diaspora, of the shtetls, and those who carried it were those badhans.”

Dar hopes this film, like Ushpizin, will help secular Jews connect with their Hasidic neighbors.

“The relationship between the Hasidic and the secular in Israel is very harsh,” Dar told me, but noted that cinema can create empathy. “You do identify with those people once you get in.”

Although The Wedding Entertainer depicts a culturally specific custom, Dar thinks the message is “something far more universal.”

“It deals with the limelight and with the desire for an audience for your art, as a comedian, as an actor,” Dar said. “And what are you willing to do for that? How far would you go?”

The Wedding Entertainer (The Tale of Moishe Badhan) will be screening at the Tribeca Film Festival on June 7 and June 14.

The post A Hasidic wedding entertainer tries to keep up with the times — if his ego will let him appeared first on The Forward.

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