Uncategorized
The Quiet Antisemitism: My Experience as a Jewish College Professor
There are plenty of examples of blatant antisemitism and attacks on Jews that have occurred over the past 10 months. It seems that every day, we read about a synagogue being attacked, a Jewish student being spat on or assaulted, or the all too mainstream protester chants calling for Intifada or for Jews to go back to Poland — and the list goes on.
Perhaps less obvious — but more frequent — is the antisemitism that’s happening under the radar: things that are circumstantial and much harder to prove.
I’m not talking about Jewish writers having their lectures cancelled out of concern “for their safety” — it’s clear to everyone (except the organizers) where the motivation comes from.
No, this is the kind of discrimination that Black people and others experienced before the Civil Rights movement — and even after: being rejected as a tenant on a lease to an apartment, passed over for a job or promotion based on the color of their skin , or — as in my case — perhaps not having a contract renewed at a college after speaking out against their policies regarding “free speech.”
Do I have proof that me being Israeli or Jewish had anything to do with my dismissal?
Absolutely not.
But are the circumstances suspicious? Yes.
Two years ago, I accepted a Visiting Assistant Professorship in the English Department of a private Midwestern college in the United States. It was a one-year contract, and following the first year, the Chair of the Department notified me how much he appreciated my work — noting the anonymous student evaluations that gave me high marks, that a large number of students requested to take a second class with me, and that I helped raise the visibility of the college through public performances by my students. He also informed me that there was restructuring going on in the English Department, which would result in some of the classes I was teaching being offered only periodically.
In short, he asked me if I would be interested in remaining affiliated with the school, and return either every other semester, or, for instance, if another English teacher took a sabbatical. That suited me fine, as it allowed me to continue teaching, but also gave me time for my own creative endeavors back in Los Angeles, where I was commuting from every week.
On October 7, I was not teaching on campus. But like so many other colleges, a segment of the student population rose up to protest Israel. And even though I was a thousand miles away, I received an email from a student member of Students for Justice in Palestine (SJP) notifying all faculty that the group was calling for a one-day strike to protest, accompanied with a list of atrocities Israel had allegedly committed, even listing the bombing of the Al-Shifa hospital in Gaza two weeks earlier, which had already been attributed to a stray missile from Palestinian Islamic Jihad.
How was it possible for one student to access the entire faculty and student body to spew their propaganda?
I contacted the Provost and Dean of the college to inquire. She replied that this was a recent policy change put into place two years earlier to encourage freedom of expression. I asked how this policy might play out if I rebutted the student’s charges through the college-wide email system, only to have another student rebut my defense, and so on and so on?
She replied that if it got out of hand, the school would shut it down.
I replied that the situation had already gotten out of hand, and trusted I wouldn’t be receiving anymore emails from such organizations.
The student newspaper got wind of this, and contacted me for my opinion. Here’s what they wrote in their article:
Safdie, who is of Israeli and Syrian Jewish descent, found sections of the message antisemitic and questioned why he received the email. “I’m all for freedom of expression, but I’m not sure this decision was able to foresee such a situation where students might abuse the privilege and create a hostile work/study environment for other members of the community.”
Fast forward several months, when I returned to campus for the Spring semester. Within a week of arrival, I received an email from the new chair of the English Department (who was also the associate Dean of the Race and Ethnic Studies program). She wanted to set up a Zoom meeting with me — even though our offices were 10 feet apart.
In a carefully worded statement that sounded like it was crafted by an attorney, she got to the point. Although the college was extremely pleased with all the work that I’d done, and that all my students loved my teaching, the college was making budget cuts and were not going to be able to renew my contract.
When I tried to explain to her my prior arrangement with the previous Chair, she simply replied that she’d be happy to write me a letter of recommendation.
Something about the Zoom call and her demeanor felt suspicious.
On a whim, I did an Internet search on my new Chair.
The first thing that came up on her Twitter Feed was a statement on the masthead of a literary magazine she edited, condemning the alleged mass killing and displacement of Palestinians in the wake of Hamas’s October 7, 2023, attacks.
As I explored further, I discovered other parts of the statement:
The Israeli military—with the support of the U.S. government—has bombarded Palestinian civilians relentlessly, in violation of international law, and deprived Palestinians of food, water, fuel, and electricity.
And:
Because we work to “bring our readers into the living moment, not as tourists, but as engaged participants,” we believe that Palestinians need space to speak directly, whether from siege in Palestine or in diaspora. So too do others who bear witness to the ongoing settler-colonial violence in Gaza and the occupied West Bank.
Two days after the Zoom meeting, I figured I might as well take the Chair up on her offer to write me a letter-of-recommendation; it was March, and I could still apply to other universities for employment the following year. (Universities can be suspicious if you leave a position after just two years, so a letter would be crucial to securing a position.)
After a week of email silence, the Chair wrote me back, saying that she wasn’t familiar with my teaching and requested to attend one of my classes to observe my skills. I invited her the following week to attend a class, which fit her schedule, but she did not show, and didn’t even write to give an explanation.
I followed up with an email to offer her another opportunity, followed by a second and third, but there was nothing but email silence.
I should also mention that, at the one faculty meeting we had, she stayed as far away from me as possible, and if I approached, she would quickly engage in discussion with another professor. The topic that day was adding a requirement for English Majors to take an anti-Racism class. One of the new offerings for the following year was focused on racism against Palestinians.
By the end of April, I decided to contact the Associate Dean of Humanities who oversaw the English Department, and sure enough, within an hour of my email, I finally received an email back from the Chair of the English Department, offering to attend my class, but letting me know that she was too busy to write me a letter of recommendation until the end of May — well past the end of the semester, and too late to help with a teaching application for the following year.
If there was ever a thought of going to the administration to complain about my treatment, that was quickly extinguished following an SJP demonstration that demanded that the college divest from Oracle. Apparently, Oracle’s website had stated support for Israel, and the Head of Financial Aid for the college felt the need to apologize for the school’s actions.
A response from the school’s administration read thus:“The business strategy or public statements from Oracle do not represent the viewpoints of the College. Due to the College’s contract with the business and the cost it took to make such major system changes, the College does not have any feasible or affordable alternative.
It also went on to assure protesters:
Less than 0.5 percent of the College’s investments are tied to Israeli companies and that none of these investments are directly held by the college.
As the semester ended, on another whim, I searched the Human Resources page of the college, and sure enough, there was a listing for a new English professor. The skills they were looking for were for someone who taught poetry as well as Race and Ethnic studies courses — none of which I was qualified to teach.
Was the college looking to shift away from courses like Screenwriting, Playwriting, and Non-Fiction — three popular courses I had taught that were always in high demand and had long waiting lists?
I guess I’ll never know.
Oren Safdie is a playwright and screenwriter.
The post The Quiet Antisemitism: My Experience as a Jewish College Professor first appeared on Algemeiner.com.
Uncategorized
When a Jewish prisoner died in Ohio in 1918, four fellow inmates left the penitentiary in civilian clothes to ensure he got a proper burial
Jack Nast wanted to be buried in a Jewish cemetery.
He died in April 1918 while incarcerated at the Ohio Penitentiary in Columbus. Little is known about the circumstances that brought him there, but another prisoner, Morris Hess, preserved an account of his final days.
As he lay ill, Nast cried out that he was a Jew, Hess wrote. He expressed pride in Jewish history and its achievements, faith in the teachings of Judaism, and regret that his own life had not lived up to its principles. He wished to receive a burial befitting someone “born in the House of Israel.”
With the aid of others, his request was granted.
Isaac B. Jashenosky and Jacob Myers, two men who regularly visited the Jewish prisoners, were with Nast before he died. Jashenosky, whom the prisoners called “rabbi,” conducted the funeral service at an unidentified Jewish cemetery, likely in Columbus. When Nast’s relatives, whom Hess described as wealthy, refused to contribute toward the expenses, Warden Preston E. Thomas permitted the prison’s Jewish inmates to contribute to a collection for the funeral.
Four prisoners were also allowed to attend the burial in civilian clothing. They listened as Jashenosky delivered his remarks and Nast’s remains were returned to the earth.
“Kaddish was said and will be said every week for him,” Hess wrote.
The account appeared in The American Israelite, a Cincinnati Jewish newspaper, under the heading “Prisoners in Ohio Penitentiary are Grateful.” Hess signed the letter with his name and prison number, 45511.
Jewish life behind prison walls
The men who helped bury Nast were part of a larger effort to sustain Jewish religious life inside Ohio’s prisons. By 1899, prisoners were being excused from work for Jewish holidays and provided with special food. In 1902, about ten Jewish inmates received matzo for Passover. By 1913, religious services were also being arranged at correctional institutions in Mansfield and Lancaster.
In 1915, Charles Albert Rosenbaum wrote to The American Israelite about B’nai B’rith’s efforts to reach Jewish prisoners in Ohio.
For years, Rosenbaum wrote, Jewish prisoners had watched representatives of other faiths visit their institutions, “not with envious but with saddened eyes.” They wondered why their own people had been so neglectful. In prison libraries, they read of “the beauties and the godlike charities of the Jewish peoples,” but turned from those pages, looked at “the cold steel walls of their cells” and doubted.
“How all of this has been changed!” Rosenbaum declared.
Rosenbaum credited Jashenosky, Myers and other Columbus volunteers with organizing visits and religious services. With Warden Thomas’ permission, more than 100 services had been held over the preceding two years, he reported, without guards present.
Hess was among those who recorded these gatherings. In 1917, he described a service attended by Jashenosky and Myers, noting that one visitor, Mrs. I. J. Shatz, had distributed cigars to the prisoners.
Freedom in the penitentiary
In 1920, Hess described Passover services held with the cooperation of Warden Thomas and his wife, Mary Thomas. Women from Columbus’ Ezrath Nosheim Society provided a holiday meal.
Jashenosky preached that although everyone desired liberty, true freedom came through “the awakening of the soul.” He told the prisoners that, “Freedom is not alone a privilege, but a lifelong obligation.”
In December 1921, another prisoner, Harry Joseph, writing on behalf of the Jewish inmates, described the work of B’nai B’rith, the Council of Jewish Women and the Ezrath Nosheim Society.
He recalled the holiday meals that women from Columbus had prepared and served, including a dinner following Yom Kippur services. Their presence, he wrote, reminded the prisoners of “the Jewish fireside with its family love.”
He continued, “The knowledge that someone cares is an incentive to reach the end of this rocky road of adversity and become useful citizens.”
Jashenosky died in April 1930, at the age of 79. Newspapers reported that he had served as a prison chaplain for more than half a century.
Before he died, Jashenosky made one final request. He wanted two Jewish prisoners, Abe Shapiro and Adam Sikorski, to attend his funeral.
Warden Thomas granted permission.
The post When a Jewish prisoner died in Ohio in 1918, four fellow inmates left the penitentiary in civilian clothes to ensure he got a proper burial appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Houston Astros hire former Team Israel manager Brad Ausmus as skipper
(JTA) — The Houston Astros hired Brad Ausmus as manager, the team announced Wednesday, making the former Team Israel skipper the lone active Jewish manager in Major League Baseball.
This will be Ausmus’ third managerial stint in MLB. He previously led the Detroit Tigers from 2014-2017 and the Los Angeles Angels in 2019. Ausmus, 57, owns a 386-422 career managerial record. He will be introduced at a press conference at Houston’s Daikin Park on Friday.
Ausmus most recently served as the New York Yankees’ bench coach from 2024-2026 and also previously worked in the front offices of the San Diego Padres and Angels. He had interviewed for the Astros’ managerial opening in 2020 and for their general manager role in 2022.
Ausmus spent 10 of his 18 MLB seasons with the Astros. He finished his playing career with a .251 batting average, .325 on-base percentage and .344 slugging percentage. The New Haven, Connecticut, native managed Team Israel during the qualifiers for the 2013 World Baseball Classic, served on its coaching staff in the 2023 WBC and managed the team in the 2026 tournament.
“Regarding Aus, he is just a perfect big league manager in every way and there are not many people you can say that about,” Nate Fish, the CEO of Israel Baseball Americas and a former Israel player and coach, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “He is smart. He is calm. He has the experience. He is a good fit for any team but a perfect fit in Houston considering he played 10 years there.”
Fish also pointed out that “this is the second time [Ausmus] has been hired to manage in the big leagues following a stint managing Team Israel. Just sayin’. There is a pattern!”
Israel won two of its four games in the 2026 tournament, securing a spot in the 2030 competition.
“I am honored and excited to take on this role,” Ausmus said before the March tournament. “I’ve been incredibly proud to be part of Team Israel’s journey. My focus remains exactly where it has always been: building a cohesive, competitive team that proudly represents Israel on the world stage. We have a solid foundation, and I’m ready to hit the ground running with our talented staff and players to achieve our goals for 2026.”
Ausmus, a former catcher, played for the Astros from 1997-1998 and again from 2001-2008. He won three Gold Glove Awards for his defense with Houston and was an All-Star in 1999 with Detroit. His 1,971 career MLB appearances are the most ever by a Jewish player, according to the Jewish Baseball Museum.
“I am very excited to be back in Houston,” Ausmus said in a statement. “The Astros and the city of Houston have been a huge part of my life, and I’m thrilled to create a new chapter as the team’s manager. I can’t wait to get to work.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Houston Astros hire former Team Israel manager Brad Ausmus as skipper appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Netanyahu’s son calls dad’s opponents ‘saboteurs’ in book to be distributed by Simon & Schuster
(JTA) — Simon & Schuster will distribute a new book by Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s son, which says that foreign and domestic Israeli enemies coordinated to unseat his father.
Yair Netanyahu, a 35-year-old political activist, has authored “Two-Front War: Inside Israel’s Fight for Survival — Against Foreign Enemies and Domestic Saboteurs.” The book is set to be released by RatPac Press in March 2027.
A blurb for the book on Simon & Schuster’s website said Yair Netanyahu was “a proud Jew and a devoted Zionist” who discovered that Israeli institutions conspired against his father.
“When the institutions that govern Israel — its prosecutors, judges, intelligence bureaucracy, military command, media networks, and foreign-funded NGOs — turned their attention toward removing his father from power, he found himself inside a Kafkaesque system that few citizens ever see,” the description said.
The prime minister has been on trial since 2020 in three corruption cases, facing charges of bribery, fraud and breach of trust, which he has denied. Yair Netanyahu has alleged that prosecutors and police involved in his father’s trials sought to stage a “coup” and committed “treason.”
The blurb also said the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attacks on Israel “unmaskted” [sic] an “alliance between neo-Nazi, radical Islamist movements, and far-left ideological networks,” which targeted Israel as the first obstacle in “a broader project to destabilize the West and erod [sic] the foundations of free civilization.”
Yair Netanyahu is a divisive figure in Israel known for social media posts that back his father’s politics and can advance far-right conspiracy theories. In 2017, he drew international condemnation for sharing an image that featured Jewish philanthropist George Soros controlling his father’s political adversaries, a post that earned him praise from the neo-Nazi website The Daily Stormer. He alleged this week that Israel’s Oct. 27 election was rigged against his father, saying the vote was “stolen by enemy states that bribed Arab voters.”
Yair Netanyahu’s publisher, RatPac Press, is part of RatPac Entertainment, founded by filmmaker Brett Ratner and Australian billionaire James Packer. Ratner immigrated to Israel in 2023 after sexual misconduct allegations stalled his Hollywood career, though he denied the allegations. He was a special guest of Benjamin Netanyahu at the United Nations General Assembly in September 2023 and posted a photo of them together on Instagram.
Packer was named in one of Benjamin Netanyahu’s corruption indictments, which alleged that he gave the prime minister and his wife gifts of cigars and champagne between 2014 and 2016. He told Australian Federal Police agents in 2017 that he was “happy to give him presents, many times at his request and his wife Sara’s request,” according to Israel’s Channel 10. Packer sold his stake in RatPac in 2017.
Simon & Schuster and RatPac Entertainment did not respond to requests for comment.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Netanyahu’s son calls dad’s opponents ‘saboteurs’ in book to be distributed by Simon & Schuster appeared first on The Forward.
