A Star of David Should Never Be Something to Hide
Rabbi Jeremy Schneider

Last week was quite a week.
Americans went to the polls on Nov. 3, and as election results came in, people tried to make sense of what that meant for our country and our future. Some were encouraged. Others were disappointed or concerned. And within the Jewish community, there were understandable questions about antisemitism, Israel and what the coming years might bring.
As a rabbi, I’ve always believed that my job isn’t to tell people how to vote. Our congregation includes Democrats, Republicans, independents and people with very different perspectives. I want every one of them to feel at home in our synagogue. We don’t have to agree on everything to be part of the same community.
But there are concerns that transcend politics, and last week, one of them hit particularly close to home.
Jewish News published a story about a federal civil rights complaint filed by the Anti-Defamation League and Reed Smith LLP involving Desert Shadows Middle School, just around the corner from Temple Kol Ami, where I serve as rabbi. It’s also the school my daughter attends, along with many children from our congregation.
According to the complaint, a 14-year-old Jewish student was subjected to repeated antisemitic harassment, including Nazi salutes, threats involving gas chambers and an alleged physical assault. The complaint also raises serious concerns about the school’s response. Paradise Valley Unified School District disputes that characterization, maintaining that it investigated and addressed each reported incident. The district says federal student privacy laws prevent it from disclosing specific disciplinary actions.
I recognize that these are serious allegations and that the complaint deserves a thorough and fair review.
But one detail in the reporting particularly bothered me.
According to the complaint, the student stopped wearing her Star of David necklace.
Think about that. A young Jewish girl reportedly felt she needed to hide something that expressed who she was.
As a rabbi, that troubles me. As a father whose daughter walks those same hallways, it troubles me even more.
This is our home. Our families are here. We contribute to our communities, care about our neighbors and take pride in being Americans. Yet there are moments when antisemitism reminds us that not everyone sees us as belonging.
Sometimes it’s hateful rhetoric. Sometimes it’s the expectation that Jews must answer for every decision made by Israel’s government. And sometimes it’s a child who reportedly no longer feels comfortable wearing a Star of David to school.
We need the friendship and support of the larger community. We should expect our schools and public institutions to take antisemitism seriously. And when Jewish children are mistreated, we have a responsibility to speak up.
But our Jewish identity cannot depend on whether other people approve of us.
And I worry that in our efforts to protect Jewish life, we sometimes lose sight of what makes Jewish life worth protecting.
Think about what our children have heard over the last few years.
Antisemitism. Security. Threats. Israel. Protests. Arguments about whether it’s safe to be openly Jewish.
These are important conversations. We cannot ignore the challenges facing our community. But what happens if those become the primary things our children associate with being Jewish?
I spend a great deal of my time working with Jewish children and teenagers. I want them to understand antisemitism and know how to respond when they encounter it. But I also want them to love being Jewish.
I want them to look forward to Shabbat, enjoy celebrating holidays, build friendships through their Jewish community and discover that Judaism encourages them to ask difficult questions. I want them to appreciate their connection to Israel and the Jewish people, even as they learn to wrestle with complicated issues.
I want them to know that being Jewish isn’t simply about what others think of us. It’s about how we choose to live.
I don’t know what the election results will ultimately mean for our country or for the Jewish community. I can’t promise our children a world without antisemitism.
But I do know that we have a responsibility to make their schools safer, to speak out when they encounter hatred and to make sure they know their community will stand beside them.
And we have another responsibility. We need to give them a Jewish life they will want to embrace, not simply one they feel obligated to defend.
I hope the day comes when no Jewish child feels the need to hide a Star of David necklace. Until then, we have work to do.
And part of that work is making sure our children understand why that necklace is worth wearing in the first place.
I don’t want our children to grow up believing that the most important thing about being Jewish is that some people hate us.
I want them to know that the most important thing about being Jewish is everything we have to love.



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