ON BEING JEWISH NOW: Reflections from Authors and Advocates

[4:25]Zibby Owens: and give me support when I was publishing my book. Her name is Zibby Owens. And she emailed a number of Jewish people, authors, not authors, and asked us to share an essay about what the events of October 7 meant to us, what being Jewish meant to us. And I became a part of this incredible community where we have been cheering each other on, and we have all come together to publish a work called On Being Jewish Now. Now many of you as my listeners might be Jewish. Most of you I'm assuming are not. Don't turn this podcast off. Confronting what is happening can be a lot and it can be overwhelming and some people deal with it by tuning out. But I'm inviting you to tune in to 36 incredible women sharing excerpts from these essays that are part of On Being Jewish Now or simply sharing with us what it means to be Jewish. It's a time when it can feel like an uphill battle. It's at a time when you feel helpless. And coming together for us was extremely cathartic. And I hope that you as my loyal listener will see us as human, as friends, as people that deserve your support and people who make a difference in this world. Being Jewish to me is an identity I've had since I was born. Whether it was every Shabbat Friday night to my brother and my bar mitzvahs, to my husband stomping on a glass after we got married. It has been interwoven into my life as this rich, deep, beautiful culture that I'm so proud to be a part of. What is happening right now is something that when my mom used to talk about antisemitism, I always thought she was overreacting. And yet, I see it in my face, on my phone every day. I urge you to support us, to help take action, to do what you can to make sure that history does not repeat itself. I hope that you love this podcast. It's an emotional one for many of us. And I urge you to read this incredible compilation of essays on being Jewish now that we've all put together. The link is in the show notes. Please spread the word. Thank you so much for listening. All right. We ready? Great. So whoever's first on the list, take it away. I'm Zibby Owens.

[6:51]Guest: And being Jewish to me means being a part of a community of the most vibrant, amazing people ever, many of whom are on this podcast with me today and being able to serve as a messenger for all of our voices. Hi. I'm Ori Ajmi,

[7:09]Rebecca Raphael: and I've been thinking a lot about Jewish representation in books and film. And this is a line from my essay in the anthology. Jewish people are not one thing. We are Ashkenazi and Sephardic. We have blonde hair and black. We are orthodox, conservative and reformed. We are entrepreneurs and artists and doctors and lawyers and stay at home moms. We are from all over the globe. We are not all wealthy, and we are not all white. Hi, I'm Lisa Barr,

[7:41]Guest: and my essay is called loud and proud, the voice in my head. And it's about my grandmother who is the reason I write what I write and the reason that I fight for the things that I fight for. She's a Holocaust survivor, and I'm the daughter of a Holocaust survivor. So this line really sums it up for me in my essay. On October 6, I knew what I wanted from life. But after October 7, I knew what life wanted from me. This is Rochelle Unreich. I wrote my book so that my mother's legacy would not be lost, not just the lessons of history and the dangers of it repeating, but her template for how to live with hope, resilience, and perhaps most important, faith. Being Jewish to me is following a path laid out by my ancestors and honoring everything I hold dear about my religion, my faith in God, my faith in humanity, and knowing there is a guide for living a life of purpose.

[8:47]Harper Kincaid: That line slays me every time. I know. I'm already crying. I know. We're all, like, in tears.

[8:53]Karen Blankfeld: Hi. My name's Karen Blankfeld, and I'm just going to read a small piece of my essay. I wear a golden chain with a butterfly around my neck. The necklace belonged to my grandmother, who gave it to me decades ago. My grandmother, blonde hair, blue eyed Polish Jew, was sent on a ship of orphans when she was seven years old. Already at seven, she knew who she was. I am a Jew, she insisted.

[9:21]Jeanie Blasberg: Hi. I'm Jeanie Blasberg, and this is from my essay Conversion Lessons. As a convert, my mindset has always felt akin to a Passover lesson. Every day, every hour, every minute, we can make the choice to pursue freedom. I wake up every morning and choose my Jewish life. I choose to observe Shabbat, to study Torah, to help those in need, to welcome the stranger, to love my neighbor, and to read and write inspired by great minds,

[9:58]Amy Blumenfeld: including Jewish ones. Hi. I'm Amy Blumenfeld, and I'm gonna read a passage from my essay. I was raised in a very traditional Jewish home. I went to Jewish day school. I kept kosher my whole life. But what I wrote about was the moment I sort of had this realization of how much it was become part of my fabric and ingrained in me. And I was young at the time. A makeshift stage in the basement of a Brooklyn church is not typically where you'd expect to hear a 10 year old girl belt out cantorial liturgy from the Sabbath morning service. And yet, there I was at my first and last audition reciting the Hebrew prayer Nim Kom o Hui Yif Ben Barachimim in front of 200 aspiring black jawed lesbian. Needless to say, I was not cast in that production of Gypsy, but the audition became one of the more formative and meaningful experiences of my childhood. It was the first time I was cognizant of instinctively turning to religion as a source of comfort in a time of need, something I would continue to do for the rest of my life. I'm Jennifer S. Brown,

[11:02]Harper Kincaid: and my essay is about actually writing bereavement letters. Growing up, I was a very secular Jew, meaning we didn't keep kosher, we didn't go to synagogue, but I always felt the tide of my community. And as I've gotten older and I've joined a synagogue, I find the less religious but more helpful ways helps me. So my piece on mourning, here's a quote. Writing bereavement letters can be depressing, especially when the deceased or the bereaved is a friend. Yet I never feel as much a part of my Jewish community as I do when sending those letters. Each calculation of dates ties me closer to my people.

[11:43]Talia Karner: Helping others through difficult times is one of the most Jewish acts a person can perform. I'm Talia Karner, and being Jewish today for me is doing what's most scary for me and that speak up against antisemitism. And this is a paragraph from my essay, Flaunting My Jewish Star. I penned a letter to the authors guild board and staff demanding that they take a public stand for us, Jewish authors, the way they had for black authors and authors of color. It took the authors guild ten more days before they issued a watered down statement, wrapping antisemitism with Islamophobia, except that there is no known campaign to blacklist Muslims authors.

[12:39]Julia DeVillers: I'm Julia DeVillers. I'm the daughter of a Holocaust survivor and a children's book author, including the books for the first interfaith American Girl Dolls I wrote with my twin sister. Isabel and Nikki are fictional characters, but we hope that readers of all faiths appreciate the specialness of celebrating Hanukkah with them. And when girls receive an Isabelle or Nikki American Girl doll, they'll be sharing a piece of my twin sisters and my childhood that these days feels extra precious.

[13:11]Karen Blankfeld: I'm Debbie Reed Fisher. And first of all, thank you so much, Rebecca. And thank you, Zibby, and all of you. I'm so inspired by all of you. Like Julia, who just spoke, I'm an author of young adult novels and middle grade novels, which are very heavy on humor. And I think it's because of all the antisemitism that I grew up with where I was the only Jew, humor saved me. And so my essay is called what stays with me, and it's about the power of Jewish humor and friendship. And here's an excerpt. Oh, hang on. Since October 7 with the worst antisemitism seen in my lifetime, I feel our collective pain, and I also delight in our ability as a people to find joy and laughter. Humor turns insults into punchlines and adversity into strength. It helps take our fear away. It is a tool not to survive, but to thrive. If we can laugh, hate won't win. Hi.

[14:09]Alyssa Friedland: I'm Alyssa Friedland, and I wrote about the changes I made to my manuscript for my novel Jackpot Summer after October 7. The fictional potters became the Jacobsens. I changed the opening scene to a gathering after a Jewish burial ceremony. I added mezuzahs, pastrami, a synagogue, and a bar mitzvah. I needed to remind my readers that Jews have humanity. We aren't violent perpetrators, and we aren't only victims. We are a people with a rich cultural history spanning thousands of years, beautiful traditions, and a values and morals based religious code. After years wishing I could color outside the lines, I now find comfort and purpose writing about my religious and cultural identity. Not because the publishing industry says I should, but because it is imperative to show the world what seems like a basic fact. Jews are people too.

[15:09]Jacqueline Friedland: Hi. I'm Jacqueline Friedland. I wrote about my daughter's bat mitzvah and how we were planning to throw a very large boisterous party shortly after October 7 and how we struggled with that decision post October 7 and members of the community convinced us to go forward with our celebration. I began to feel comfortable with the idea of celebrating a bat mitzvah after October 7, to let our joy at our daughter's milestone exist alongside our pain from the atrocities, the war Israel was being forced to fight, and the alarming antisemitism surrounding us in The US. I also began to realize that it was not only a privilege to celebrate our child's bat mitzvah, but also our duty. With Jews still being actively persecuted, how could we forsake an opportunity to elevate this moment of Jewish joy?

[16:07]Julia DeVillers: Hi. I'm Barry Liner Grant. I wrote about one of the most important Jews in my life, my father, who taught me about loss. I realize too late I'm experiencing our lasts. We listen to music known and loved like Ray Charles. You used to sing along and tap a foot, but no more. I recite Kaddish in search for a glimmer. Gosh, I long for a glimmer. A friend shared this week that the whole of her congregation is rising for Kaddish so that no one is left to stand alone. I know how much you might like this and tell you, dad, may the whole wide world stand for all who grieve and know the deep loss of dementia. And may I keep your memories alive for always. Amen.

[16:56]Guest: Okay. That's hard to follow. Thank you so much, Sibby, for putting this all together and Rebecca, so great to see you. So I'm the founder of the brand Boy Meets Girl. I've spent my past twenty plus years standing up for all communities and bringing people together. And I'm gonna read the beginning of my essay. I remember the call and the questioning whether I wanted to be part of a commercial produced by Robert Kraft standing up to Jewish hate, a decision that would mean giving up perpetual rights to my own image. Should I do it? I thought back to the time when I wasn't allowed to participate in ballroom dancing with my friends at their club because I was Jewish. My father called the club and firmly declared, you will allow my daughter in with her friends. He stood up for me and got me in. How could I not stand up for this commercial? I said yes.

[18:05]Brenda Janowitz: Hi. I'm Brenda Janowitz. I wrote an essay about baking challah, and I'd like to read the first paragraph of that for you. I did it every Friday. I would go to the charming little French bakery one town over and buy a big delicious challah for Shabbat dinner. That night, we'd light candles, say prayers, and enjoy a family meal together. We did it because it was tradition. We did it because my son came home from elementary school one day and told me he was embarrassed to be Jewish. I wanted my children to understand where we came from. Hi, my name is Rabbi Rebecca Karen Jablonsky.

[18:42]Guest: I wrote an essay that I hope will be a snapshot in time of what it means to be Jewish for when you read the anthology, which is incredible. Thank you, Zibby, for collecting the essays. But now as I am sitting in all of my holiday preparation, I'm thinking about how what it means to be Jewish is that we're a people of holy days and holy times. And the Jewish calendar demands of us now a time of reset, repair, and hopefully we can get back to a place in our world where there is peace, where there is peace of mind. And as we reflect on the upcoming anniversary of October 7, hopefully all of our families can have a very meaningful time in this Jewish calendar, and hopefully, we can restore our days like they used to be, full of peace and joy.

[19:39]Harper Kincaid: Hi. I am Harper Kincaid. I am an author of well, I used to write really dirty rom coms and and books with that. I now write well, I did write mysteries, and now I'm sort of going into new directions in nonfiction. So, it is just kick ass to be a Jew. I just really, I I had this gift. I didn't realize it was a gift at the time of growing up in South Florida, which has a huge population. So, like, everyone was Jewish. So I just it was just part of everything that we did. We were you know? And I looked back as I was learning more about our people, not just through the religious lens, but through a social justice lens. Like, we were part of the founders of the NAACP. We are part of the gay rights movement. We are part of of, you know, labor unions and and, you know, equal rights and all of this stuff. So I'm at this point where we cure diseases. And it's all back to the Torah, to religion, to Kunalam, about healing this world, about making it better. It's not about the next world over. It's about where we are now. And I love that about us. And we're a tribe and you can bump into somebody in the middle of wherever. And if you find out they're a Jew, it's a it's it's a comrade. It's a it's it's your people. It is also a heartbreak. And I struggle with that, but I feel like this is what it is to be alive. You get this great love, and you're gonna also have to grieve. And you're also gonna have to have this pain. And you're going to have to hold both in your hands like water sometimes going through your fingers. But it's regenerative and then it comes back again. And I think it makes us the change makers of the world because we have this lens. It sometimes it does feel like a big too big of a price to pay. And I'm angry. And I'm sad. And I'm gobsmacked. But I'm here and we're here. Today's

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[24:37]Amy Klein: Hi. I'm Amy Klein. I'm a journalist and a writer, and I'm reading a little part from my essay called the Jewish Star is Worn about wearing my Jewish star in New York City in public. I get looks, microaggressions as the kids call them, leading me to wonder if every interaction, the traffic ticket, the refused entry to the pool, the sneering waitress are arbitrary or antisemitic. I find myself twisting my necklace in public spaces assessing the people around me. Are they Jewish? Do they hate Jews? Just like my crowd Magat instructor would like. But I don't like this feeling, this feeling of being unsafe in America, a Jew in New York. Hi, I'm Dara Kurtz,

[25:20]Guest: and my essay is called I'm Proud to Be Jewish Now More Than Ever. It's about a conversation that I have with my daughter about who we could count on to hide us if history repeated itself. My grandparents were forced to flee Germany at the hands of the Nazis. And it's a conversation I never thought that I would have with her. But it also gave us a lot of hope. And I'm going to share just a little bit about that with you. I don't know what the future holds for Israel, for Jewish Americans, for my family. What I do recognize is that since the horrific events of October 7, I have never before been prouder to be Jewish. I bear the responsibility to raise my voice, to stand up for my convictions, and instead of fear, to choose hope, not only for my family and me, but also for the future of the Jewish people. I know there are no guarantees for any of us. While it isn't always easy,

[26:18]Jacqueline Friedland: I wouldn't change who I am for anything. I'm Rachel Levy Lesser. Thank you, Zibby and Rebecca, for doing this. My essay is called Proud to Be a Jewish Little Girl, and it's about how I turned to Judaism last year after experiencing personal loss. So I'm just gonna read from that. I started going to temple more this past year and not just for the high holidays. I found myself there the morning of 10/07/2023. My brother came with me to a small Yizkor service of remembrance commemorating the end of the holiday of Sukkot. I sat with members of my Jewish community and shared memories of lost loved ones as information came in about the atrocities of the Hamas attacks on Israel. The small temple gathering surprisingly comforted me more than anything else. Hi, everyone. I am Dara Levan.

[27:10]Guest: I'm an author and podcaster, and I I'm very, very rarely at a loss for words. Anyone that knows me well, many of you do, I am so moved by what everyone is sharing. To hear you all speak from your heart, it's it's different than just reading it and putting a face and a voice. So thank you so so much, and Rebecca and everyone. I I am I'm running out of words for grateful. My essay is called We Show Up, and it happens to be one of my core values as a human being and, of course, also as a Jewish woman. This essay came to me because my little cousin, at 22 years old, was killed in the fourth week of the war, same age as my son. And when my husband told a friend of his in Israel about it, someone who I've never met, who I still don't know, someone he knows from a professional organization, not a close friend, He said, tell me Dara's family's name, where they live. He said he'd pay a shift of a call. I didn't believe him, and I just thought that was so kind. I'm trying to through this, start crying. And he did. He showed up. A week later, he went there in uniform. His name is Hagai. He sent photos of my cousins' artwork, my first cousins that I can't get to right now, my uncle, my aunt. And so I'll read you a few lines from my essay. And he doesn't know I wrote this. I can't wait to send this next week to him. He asked when it happened. Where did the parents live? What unit did he serve in? And then he said something to my husband I honestly didn't believe. I'm going to the Shiva. His caring gesture made me cry again, but I didn't think he'd actually go. He went. Hagai didn't know me. I'd never spoken to him in my entire life. He'd only met my husband at a professional organization, and yet he helped me mourn. That's what Jews do. We move forward. We support each other. We show up. And I didn't know how to thank him. There are no strangers in Judaism. The world will never be the same for my family and for our community. May my young cousin's memory be a blessing. May his legacy inspire us all to live with joy. And may one acquaintance's act of kindness inspire us all to do the same.

[29:41]Zibby Owens: It's weird not to talk after every one of you share something so beautiful. But everything you're sharing so far is so incredible, so powerful. And I can't wait for Jewish people to listen to this, but

[29:56]Toby Rose: non Jewish people is who I'm hoping this reaches more. Hi. My name is Toby Rose, and I'm a writer based in Nashville. My essay is about growing up in Nashville and being everyone's token Jewish friend, moving away for twenty years to live in coastal cities, and coming back to Nashville to raise my own kids. So I'm just gonna read a couple lines from it. Whereas I used to shy away from being everyone's token Jewish friend, recent events make me want to double down on my Jewish identity. The kids are proud of being Jewish and so am I. Thank you.

[30:37]Joanna Rakoff: Hi. I'm Joanna Rakoff. Rather than explain the subject of my essay, I will just read a little bit from it. I'm just saying it's called The Weight of History, and that will tell you a lot about the subject matter. In Barcelona, we could not find the synagogue. We checked the address once, twice, three times as we navigated the narrow narrow medieval alleys of the Jewish quarter. But when we got there, we found nothing but a wood frame door that appeared to lead to some sort of cellar. On our third go round, I peered into the small dusty window at level with my feet. I could barely make out a large stone wall. Just then the singing started, a Hebrew prayer unfamiliar to me in a tune equally foreign emanated faintly from that foot level window. Of course, the synagogue was underground behind an unmarked door. We were in inquisition territory. My son, my oldest child, was in Israel on October 7, 18 kilometers from the Gaza border. I woke up that Saturday morning earlier than usual and patted downstairs for coffee, fueled by a strange sense of unease. As I ground the beans, I noticed that my phone was flashing with text after text. Thinking of you, they said, is Coleman okay? They asked. Please tell me Coleman wasn't at that music festival they pleaded. Before I could make sense of these missives, another came in from Coleman himself. I'm in a shelter. I'm completely fine. Thank you, Rebecca.

[32:17]Rebecca Raphael: And thank you to all of you for sharing these powerful stories. My name is Rebecca Raphael, and I will be reading an excerpt from my essay. I don't think it requires much context. As a child, time stood still when my father walked in our front door early on Friday nights, Shabbat flowers in hand, marking the beginning of our family's cherished time together. From building a sukkah out of threadbare sheets in our backyard every fall to gleefully dancing on Simchat Torah accompanied by bracha, our shul's accordion player. From waving Israeli flags on Independence Day parades to a decade of summers at Jewish sleepaway camp, there were so many foundational memories I wanted to recreate. I also spent my formative years watching my grandparents mourn the loss of their parents and siblings among the 6,000,000 Jews who were murdered in the Holocaust. For many in my generation, the Shuah was a catalyst for Jewish identity, a responsibility to be vigilant about ensuring the survival of our heritage and our people. It was ingrained in me by the Jewish philosopher Emil Vackenheim and by those of my great aunts and uncles who miraculously survived Auschwitz, that in addition to the six thirteen mitzvot in the Torah, there is a six hundred and fourteenth commandment we must follow. We must not grant Hitler a posthumous victory. Since becoming a parent, there is no mitzvah I have taken more to heart, certainly because I am passionate about Jewish continuity and feel the weight of our history, but above all, because I believe Judaism offers a roadmap for a purpose driven life of goodness and joy. In the aftermath of October 7, I am doubling down on Judaism as a personal and communal toolbox for a life well lived.

[34:25]Amy Blumenfeld: Hi, I'm Bethra Gennady. Thank you, Rebecca. Thank you, Sibby. And thank you to all of you who are here. I'm finding so much solace in this morning. I'm a physician and I scaled back my practice as I have been making challah with people around the country since I wrote a book, a memoir about this six years ago. I'm going to read a short sentence or two from my essay called Braiding Ourselves Together One Challah at a Time. After October 7, I have purposely chosen, even more than usual, to make halah across boundaries with as many different people as possible, both Jewish and especially non Jewish. While we stand side by side at tables substituting for a kitchen counter, our hands in bowls of dough, we come together and forge a common ground regardless of our different backgrounds and our different experiences. We need that now more than ever. I need that now more than ever.

[35:36]Talia Karner: Thank you.

[35:38]Julia DeVillers: Author and romance author, and I never thought I would need to be a Jewish essay writer, but here we are. So this is an excerpt from my essay, We Can Do It With a My Story of Losing My Best Friend. The idea that someone you know so intimately could dismiss you based on origin is almost unfathomable. It's terrifying and sad. I thought about a conversation I'd had with my sister a few weeks earlier. I feel like my heart is broken, I'd said. It is, she breathed. And that's okay. The world might be confused about what it means to be Jewish, but we aren't. We've always found a way to protect and support each other even when we disagree. And we often disagree, especially when we disagree. We've always survived our hearts breaking together.

[36:35]Jane L. Rosen: I'm Jane L. Rosen, and my essay, Shopping While Jewish, celebrates childhood memories of visits to Lomans on the Lower East Side with my mom. It's mostly humorous until I reach my time in the Garmin Center where I met the Buttonhole Man. I'll read a little bit about him. Finally, one day, the buttonhole man caught me staring and held out his forearm for me to see. You can touch it, he said in his strong Polish accent. I ran my finger over the six digits etched into the creases and sunspots of the old man's arm as tears burned my eyes.

[37:12]Amy Blumenfeld: Hi, my name's Alyssa Rosenheck, and I'm going to be reading from my essay, Rest and Responsibility, where I found myself in one of the holiest of cities on the holiest of days, Jerusalem, Jerusalem on Shabbat. I seek peace, but I too have a war within. I desire freedom, yet fight the oppression of my own fears. I seek alignment in the present, shedding limiting narratives from my past. I strive for justice while I long for mercy. I aim to reconcile who I was on October 6 with who I am now in a post October 7 world where each day still feels like the eighth. I've been to Israel twice since the war began. Initially, I traveled to a war zone to make sense of the conflict in The States. What I found was not what I expected. I found love and I found home. This land represents more than just a conflict. It embodies resilience and a profound sense of belonging.

[38:20]Toby Rose: Oh, jeez. That was beautiful. I am trying not to cry, everybody. Hi. Name is Heidi Schertak, and I'm an Orthodox Jew who writes Orthodox Jewish rom coms. We can be interesting, funny too. Okay. And my essay, I'm just gonna read a little bit, is about my namesake who escaped pogroms from Lithuania. And she actually took all of that trauma, and she made it into something really positive. And she was just like a really awesome, cool person. Okay. Heikka, like generations of Jews before her essence, took the dirt and grime of her past and transformed it into magnificent seeds of humanity

[39:05]Elizabeth Silver: because that is the Jewish way. Hi, everyone. My name is Elizabeth Silver, and I am a novelist and the daughter and granddaughter of Holocaust survivors. I wrote an essay called The First Pang, an incident that happened to me in middle school during my childhood in the South in New Orleans and Dallas, where I was one of the only Jews in my school and how it related to something that happened to my 10 year old daughter at school this past year. I'll just read a little bit from the end of the essay. As I drove her to school, the pang that hit me when I was 13 reignited. I didn't know how they would greet her request and presentation I was simultaneously nervous and overflowing with pride. But when she came home later that day, proud and joyful, she told us that her teacher was so happy to have her give the presentation. She just didn't know about the month. Jewish American History Month. It reminded me not just of the moment in middle school when the boy defaced my notebook out of hate, but also of every other moment where I too was mostly that anomaly. And people would just frequently say to me, you're the first Jew I've met without negativity or hatred, but rather just curiosity. We forget how small of people we really are at 0.2% of the world's population. And when we are such a small group, despite our disproportionate output, we all in turn sort of become mini ambassadors to our very existence, to our history, and to our culture. And while we don't individually represent an entire religion, culture, or people who look largely like every race, many of whom don't practice religion at all, we do represent one tiny part of it. And talking about that can also in turn become one of our superpowers of spreading understanding, love and acceptance across the globe.

[41:00]Abby Stern: Hi, I'm Abby Stern. I am a novelist and journalist. And my essay is about people being surprised that I'm Jewish because I don't look stereotypically Jewish and how I never really offered up that information or wore a star of David or anything like that and kind of trying to figure out why I was sort of hiding my Jewish identity. And that's the little excerpt I'm gonna read from my essay. So I wondered if generational trauma is real, perhaps survival instincts are also ingrained in us. My blonde hair and blue eyes genetically came from my grandma Jean. This aesthetic carried an enormous amount of favor and a small yet penetrable layer of protection for her as a girl in Poland. She worked at a shop owned by fellow Jews. When the tides began turning in Eastern Europe, she was tasked with working at the front of the store because of her non Jewish looking features.

[42:03]Joanna Rakoff: I'm Rochelle Weinstein, and I coauthored my essay with Alison Greenberg. Alison and I were strangers before October 7, but we happened to release our novels around that day. And we wrote it when in conversation about our struggles that we faced the simultaneous joy and pain that we were experiencing. I'm going to read you a small excerpt. The world needed joy and music and a good read. So our author community did what it always does. They rallied, they lifted, they supported. And that is the essence of all of this. The essence of being Jewish women writers. This is what we do. We may write alone, but we share in each other's triumphs and challenges. What did we glean from October 7? We managed to find the light through the darkness.

[42:51]Samantha Green Woodruff: I'm Samantha Green Woodruff, and I am an author of historical fiction. My next novel comes out on October 8 and is about a young Jewish woman in the 1920s. So this all feels very close. I'm going to read an excerpt from my essay called Jew ish, and the I s h is in quotes, about my complex relationship with my own Judaism. I never hid my Judaism, but I also didn't advertise it. After October 7, I convinced myself that if I was speaking out generally, it was enough. That was who I'd always been. Privately, there was more to it. I was growing afraid. I didn't mind leaving some ambiguity around my Jewish identity, especially if it would protect my family. Thank you, Zebi and Rebecca, for this amazing group and opportunity and all of it. Wonderful.

[43:42]Amy Blumenfeld: Oh, welcome.

[43:44]Julia DeVillers: Hi, everyone. So my essay is called Being a Jewish Activist Wasn't on Brand for Me. My brand guardrails were very clear up until 10/07/2023. On this day, I needed to penetrate the well defined exterior of my personal brand and probe into who I was at the core. Deep inside, my belief system was loud and clear. I'm a proud Jew, the granddaughter of not one but four Holocaust survivors, initially born in Poland and Austria. Sure, I had spoken up against antisemitism here and there before. I'm looking at you, Kanye. But those were light raindrops of advocacy nowhere near the ocean waves of activism a few of my peers displayed. Me, an activist? Never. But then it all changed.

[44:30]Zibby Owens: This is incredible. Thank you. Thank you. This was so cathartic and emotional, and I'm just proud to be Jewish with you all. A good rest of your week, everybody. Thank you

[44:41]Guest: so, so much. I

[44:43]Talia Karner: thank you. I

[44:46]Zibby Owens: just wanted to thank you guys for listening to today's episode. I also wanna ask you to rate and review the show wherever you listen to podcasts. I know it's a pain in the butt, but it actually helps with search and algorithm. So if you love this podcast, it is an easy way to get it more visible and out there. I also want you to follow me on Instagram at Rebecca Minkoff at RM Superwoman, and be sure to check out my book, The New Rules for Unlocking Creativity, Courage, and Success. Thank you again, and you will hear from me next week.