Thread by @libshipwreck

Like most Jews, I’ve spent the last 24 hours in a state of despair.

I grew up in synagogues: my father was a rabbi and my mother directed a synagogue’s religious school. Though I’m not from Pittsburgh as I read the news I couldn’t help thinking of the synagogues I grew up in.

Beyond the tragedy of this attack, one of the things that has struck me is almost how unsurprising it feels. Even as the synagogue was always like a second home to me, it was also always a space that I knew was a potential target for people who hate Jews.

Despite the ridiculous, blame shifting comments about security, Jewish institutions already have high security. Having both parents working in synagogues meant that I grew up hearing about the new security measures synagogues were taking “just in case.”

And these security measures weren’t just taken by synagogues. I spent years working as a librarian at a Jewish institution, and every day I walked through a metal detector and put my bag through an x-ray machine.

I remember one all staff meeting st that Jewish library at which the head of security told us that the risk assessment led them to believe the most likely threat was intruders armed with automatic weapons.

And so, in all of these places, I always found myself going in and thinking “what if?” And I always found myself thinking of where I’d run, or where I’d try to help others shelter, in the case of an attack.

Because an attack always seemed like a possibility.

Thus, religious spaces for me were always an odd mix. On the one hand they were places of worship and gathering, and at the same time they were always places where I knew I was a target. And given that my parents were always in shul, I worried that they were always targets.

Tragically, Jews are not the only group who know they are targets in their cultural institutions and places of worship - earlier this week a man tried to enter an African-American church, and when he couldn’t get in he murdered two elderly African-Americans in a super market.

But for members of communities that are targeted by white supremacists (a list that is sickeningly large) these attacks can feel almost expected. It’s hard to watch the rise in hateful rhetoric (dog whistles becoming megaphones) and not think tragedies like these would happen.

Many Jews have been spending a long time pointing out that “Soros” and “the globalists” and “coastal elites” are dog whistles for “the Jews.” But amidst these warnings those terms have been normalized. Warnings are always ignored, until it is too late.

The line from mobs of men with torches chanting “Jews will not replace us” (some of whom the president called “very fine people”) to a man murdering Jews in a synagogue is a straight line - and it’s a line that many in positions of power didn’t try to break.

I always hated the fact that when I’ve gone to synagogues I’ve had to pass through security. Not because it’s inconvenient, but because we shouldn’t need to have security to be safe in places of worship. It is a reminder that our sacred sites (and we) are targets.

I am ashamed to admit this, but for me part of the experience of being Jewish has been a constant awareness of risk - a knowledge that I’m a potential target, and that my family and I are a fixture of conspiracy theories that won’t vanish.

Walking around with my father (who wears a yarmulke) I always worried on some level that we might be attacked or harassed. And growing up I was certainly a target of anti-Jewish bullying as I was the rabbi’s kid.

All of which is to say that though I’m overwhelmed by a sense of grief and despair, a feeling that I’m not experiencing is surprise. And I wish that I could find this attack (and the ones like it) surprising, but I feel like every time I’ve gone to shul I knew this could happen.

The conspiracies and hateful rhetoric that have been used in the past to drum up violence against Jews are being disseminated on a widespread level. Of course these are going to result in violence again.

History repeats itself - first as tragedy, and then as tragedy.

I’m not sure what will happen now. But given the speed with which those who have been fear-mongering about “Soros” and “globalists” have gone back to spouting these exact same dog whistles, I cannot help but think things will just get worse.

And let me admit here that I am brave enough to admit my fear. I am frightened that we’ve seen this story before. And despite all the calls of “never forget” and “never again” I feel like we have forgotten and so it is happening again.

There are many reasons to feel despair right now. Far too many to list. And these feelings are being shared by numerous communities who are mourning hate driven attacks that they have suffered in recent times.

I’ve been thinking about two lines: from the Pirke Avoth “You are not required to finish the work, but neither are you permitted to desist from it” & from Deuteronomy “Justice, Justice you shall pursue.”

Even in despair. Even in grief. The work of repairing the world continues.