Uncategorized
Which side are you on: Jewish American or American Jew?
(JTA) — Earlier this month the New York Times convened what it called a “focus group of Jewish Americans.” I was struck briefly by that phrase — Jewish Americans — in part because the Times, like the Jewish Telegraphic Agency, tends to prefer “American Jews.”
It’s seemingly a distinction without a difference, although I know others might disagree. There is an argument that “American Jew” smacks of disloyalty, describing a Jew who happens to be American. “Jewish American,” according to this thinking, flips the script: an American who happens to be Jewish.
If pressed, I’d say I prefer “American Jew.” The noun “Jew” sounds, to my ear anyway, more direct and more assertive than the tentative adjective “Jewish.” It’s also consistent with the way JTA essentializes “Jew” in its coverage, as in British Jew, French Jew, LGBT Jew or Jew of color.
I wouldn’t have given further thought to the subject if not for a webinar last week given by Arnold Eisen, the chancellor emeritus at the Jewish Theological Seminary. In “Jewish-American, American-Jew: The Complexities and Joys of Living a Hyphenated Identity,” Eisen discussed how a debate over language is really about how Jews navigate between competing identities.
“What does the ‘American’ signify to us?” he asked. “What does the ‘Jewish’ signify and what is the nature of the relationship between the two? Is it a synthesis? Is it a tension, or a contradiction, or is it a blurring of the boundaries such that you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins?”
Questions like these, it turns out, have been asked since Jews and other immigrants first began flooding Ellis Island. Teddy Roosevelt complained in 1915 that “there is no room in this country for hyphenated Americans.” Woodrow Wilson liked to say that “any man who carries a hyphen about with him carries a dagger that he is ready to plunge into the vitals of the Republic.” The two presidents were frankly freaked out about what we now call multiculturalism, convinced that America couldn’t survive a wave of immigrants with dual loyalties.
The two presidents lost the argument, and for much of the 20th century “hyphenated American” was shorthand for successful acculturation. While immigration hardliners continue to question the loyalty of minorities who claim more than one identity, and Donald Trump played with the politics of loyalty in remarks about Mexicans, Muslims and Jews, ethnic pride is as American as, well, St. Patrick’s Day. “I am the proud daughter of Indian immigrants,” former South Carolina Gov. Nikki Haley said in announcing her run for the Republican presidential nomination this month.
For Jews, however, the hyphen became what philosophy professor Berel Lang called “a weighty symbol of the divided life of Diaspora Jewry.” Jewishness isn’t a distant country with quaint customs, but a religion and a portable identity that lives uneasily alongside your nationality. In a 2005 essay, Lang argued that on either side of the hyphen were “vying traditions or allegiances,” with the Jew constantly confronted with a choice between the American side, or assimilation, and the Jewish side, or remaining distinct.
Eisen calls this the “question of Jewish difference.” Eisen grew up in an observant Jewish family in Philadelphia, and understood from an early age that his family was different from their Vietnamese-, Italian-, Ukrainian- and African-American neighbors. On the other hand, they were all the same — that is, American — because they were all hyphenated. “Being parallel to all these other differences, gave me my place in the city and in the country,” he said.
In college he studied the Jewish heavy hitters who were less sanguine about the integration of American and Jewish identities. Eisen calls Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan, the renegade theologian at JTS, “the thinker who really made this question uppermost for American Jews.” Kaplan wrote in 1934 that Jewishness could only survive as a “subordinate civilization” in the United States, and that the “Jew in America will be first and foremost an American, and only secondarily a Jew.”
Kaplan’s prescription was a maximum effort on the part of Jews to “save the otherness of Jewish life” – not just through synagogue, but through a Jewish “civilization” expressed in social relationships, leisure activities and a traditional moral and ethical code.
Of course, Kaplan also understood that there was another way to protect Jewish distinctiveness: move to Israel.
A poster issued by the National Industrial Conservation Movement in 1917 warns that the American war effort might be harmed by a “hyphen of disloyalty,” suggesting immigrants with ties to their homelands were working to aid the enemy. (Prints and Photographs Division, Library of Congress)
The political scientist Charles Liebman, in “The Ambivalent American Jew” (1973), argued that Jews in the United States were torn between surviving as a distinct ethnic group and integrating into the larger society.
According to Eisen, Liebman believed that “Jews who make ‘Jewish’ the adjective and ‘American’ the noun tend to fall on the integration side of the hyphen. And Jews who make ‘Jew’ the noun and ‘American’ the adjective tend to fall on the survival side of the hyphen.”
Eisen, a professor of Jewish thought at JTS, noted that the challenge of the hyphen was felt by rabbis on opposite ends of the theological spectrum. He cited Eugene Borowitz, the influential Reform rabbi, who suggested in 1973 that Jews in the United States “are actually more Jewish on the inside than they pretend to be on the outside. In other words, we’re so worried about what Liebman called integration into America that we hide our distinctiveness.” Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik, the leading Modern Orthodox thinker of his generation, despaired that the United States presented its Jews with an unresolvable conflict between the person of faith and the person of secular culture.
When I read the texts Eisen shared, I see 20th-century Jewish men who doubted Jews who could be fully at home in America and at home with themselves as Jews (let alone as Jews who weren’t straight or white — which would demand a few more hyphens). They couldn’t imagine a rich Jewishness that didn’t exist as a counterculture, the way Cynthia Ozick wondered what it would be like to “think as a Jew” in a non-Jewish language like English.
They couldn’t picture the hyphen as a plus sign, which pulled the words “Jewish” and “American” together.
Recent trends support the skeptics. Look at Judaism’s Conservative movement, whose rabbis are trained at JTS, and which has long tried to reconcile Jewish literacy and observance with the American mainstream. It’s shrinking, losing market share and followers both to Reform – where the American side of the hyphen is ascendant — and to Orthodoxy, where Jewish otherness is booming in places like Brooklyn and Lakewood, New Jersey. And the Jewish “nones” — those opting out of religion, synagogue and active engagement in Jewish institutions and affairs — are among the fastest-growing segments of American Jewish life.
Eisen appears more optimistic about a hyphenated Jewish identity, although he insists that it takes work to cultivate the Jewish side. “I don’t think there’s anything at stake necessarily on which side of the hyphen you put the Jewish on,” he said. “But if you don’t go out of your way to put added weight on the Jewish in the natural course of events, as Kaplan said correctly 100 years ago, the American will win.”
—
The post Which side are you on: Jewish American or American Jew? appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
Noah Wyle, TV’s nice Jewish doctor, is People’s Sexiest Man Alive
(JTA) — Noah Wyle, the Jewish actor who both mends and steals hearts as a doctor on the hit HBO Max medical drama “The Pitt,” has been named People magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive.
Tuesday’s announcement described the actor’s “smoldering intensity” and “leading-man looks,” while noting that “he loves to do the dishes.”
Wyle, 55, told People he initially thought the news was “a classic set-up for a prank.” His wife, Sara Wells, helped persuade him to accept the honor, he said, because she believes his qualities as a husband and father are worth celebrating.
The actor, who starred in the ’90s medical drama “ER,” is enjoying a career resurgence as Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch, the brilliant, troubled emergency-room physician at the center of “The Pitt.” The role has earned Wyle two consecutive Emmy Awards for outstanding lead actor in a drama series, along with renewed attention to his own Jewish heritage.
As JTA reported last year, Wyle drew on his father’s Russian-Jewish background in helping create Robby, his first Jewish character. The doctor wears a Star of David necklace and, in a pivotal scene in the show’s first season, clutches it while reciting the Shema, a central Jewish prayer, during an emotional crisis.
Wyle, whose father is Jewish and mother is Episcopalian, did not grow up in a religious household. But in an interview with the Jewish Chronicle this year, he said Judaism had become more relevant to his life through the show and that his daughter, then 10, has expressed the most interest to “pick up the mantle of Judaism.” She helped him with the pronunciation of the Shema, he said, and her bat mitzvah has been scheduled.
Wyle has also brought Jewish history into “The Pitt.” In an episode he wrote for the show’s second season, a patient with ties to the 2018 Tree of Life synagogue shooting in Pittsburgh struggles with post-traumatic stress disorder.
Wyle said portraying a Jewish character offered an opportunity to present a humanist and healer at a time of heightened antisemitism. “I have come to learn that the world’s knowledge of Jews comes through depictions of them in the media,” he told the Jewish Chronicle.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Noah Wyle, TV’s nice Jewish doctor, is People’s Sexiest Man Alive appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
New York Gov. Kathy Hochul says defending Israel would be ‘a lot easier’ if Netanyahu loses
New York Gov. Kathy Hochul, an incumbent Democrat running for reelection, said it would be “a lot easier” for her to defend Israel if Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu loses Tuesday’s election. New York has the largest concentration of Jews outside of Israel and is home to many ex-pat Israelis.
In an interview with Politico magazine published as Israelis headed to the polls, Hochul suggested that Netanyahu’s “overreach” in the Gaza war has become an obstacle to Israel’s international standing and that his government policies have killed any prospects for the creation of an independent Palestinian state.
“I believe we have to get people of goodwill who can make this happen, and as long as Netanyahu is sitting there, that is not in his interest to do that,” Hochul said. “It’s just not, and it won’t happen.”
Hochul has remained a strong supporter of Israel despite growing criticism of the country within her party. She was the first foreign elected official to visit Israel shortly after Hamas-led attacks on Oct. 7, 2023 and criticized the pro-Palestinian protests on campus.
In 2024, she came under fire for making an analogy to her hometown, Buffalo, in defending Israel’s military campaign against Hamas amid mass Palestinian casualties in Gaza.
“If Canada someday ever attacked Buffalo, I’m sorry my friends, there would be no Canada the next day,” she said in remarks to Jewish leaders, first reported by the Forward. “That’s a natural reaction. You have a right to defend yourself and to make sure it never happens again.” Immediately after it was publicized, Hochul apologized for implying that Israel had a right to destroy Gaza.
Hochul recalled in the interview privately warning Israeli officials during her visit to Israel that the country would lose international support.
“The world is with you when it comes to the brutal assault by a terrorist organization known as Hamas on innocent Israeli people,” Hochul said she told Israeli officials. “An overreach could change that dynamic, and that’s what’s happened.”
The Democratic governor also suggested that if Netanyahu continues as prime minister, it could complicate the prospects of a Jewish Democrat winning the party’s presidential nomination in 2028. The Israeli leader would remain “a lightning rod,” comparing his political survival instincts to those of President Donald Trump. “Who knows what he’s going to do next for self-preservation,” she said.
Closely watching the Israeli election
Hochul’s remarks came as Israelis voted in their first national election since Oct. 7, 2023, with unusually high turnout raising the possibility that participation could exceed 80%, a level not seen since the early 1970s.
Netanyahu, Israel’s longest-serving prime minister, is fighting to remain in power after nearly two decades in office. Many Israelis blame Netanyahu for the security failures that allowed the Oct. 7 attack, while his supporters credit him with confronting Hamas and Iran. Recent polls suggest Netanyahu’s right-wing coalition could fall short of the 61 seats needed to form a government. His main challenger is Gadi Eisenkot, a former military chief whose son and two nephews were killed in the war in Gaza.
Netanyahu’s campaign slogan, “It’s the right or Palestine,” taps into post-Oct. 7 fears about the establishment of a Palestinian state, warning that an Eisenkot-led government dependent on Arab support will lead to Palestinian statehood. But a Netanyahu defeat would not necessarily bring the changes Hochul wants. Eisenkot and other opposition leaders like Naftali Bennett and Avigdor Lieberman also oppose a Palestinian state.
A balancing act
Hochul’s comments also reflect the political challenge she faces at home, where she has maintained strong ties with Jewish leaders while working closely with New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani, a fierce critic of Israel.
Hochul endorsed Mamdani last year after staying neutral during the Democratic primary. But she has continued to distance herself from the mayor on issues of antisemitism and Israel, which has left many Jewish New Yorkers uneasy. Her most recent state budget included a measure establishing a buffer zone around houses of worship to prevent disruptive protests from blocking access, an issue on which Mamdani had raised objections.
In the Politico interview, Hochul said Mamdani had brought “new energy” to the party, even as she acknowledged their disagreements. “Again, differences on approaches to the Jewish community, Israel and all that — that’s another topic,” she said.
A recent poll found that 65% of Jews in New York City disapproved of the mayor’s handling of antisemitism, while Hochul received 54% approval.
Hochul is seeking reelection against Republican Bruce Blakeman, the Jewish Nassau County executive, who has made support for Israel and opposition to antisemitism central themes of his campaign. But Blakeman has struggled to match the support former Republican gubernatorial candidate Lee Zeldin received from Jewish voters and Hasidic voting blocs four years ago.
The post New York Gov. Kathy Hochul says defending Israel would be ‘a lot easier’ if Netanyahu loses appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
‘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.
