On Not Being Silent

As we wait for the rest of the Bibas family to come home.

Quite a few of my Substack friends have written today on people either being silent or speaking out in these times. Here is Dena on Silent Jews. Here is Peter on The Silent Ones. There are more.

Most of my friends and neighbors went about their business today, either not knowing or not caring about the likely dead children and their mother who will be coming back to Israel tomorrow. Not knowing or not caring about the father whose life was shattered, or the other fathers and mothers whose lives will never be the same since that horrible day.

I taught kindergarteners today, which was not my intention. I usually only teach fifth and up, with seventh and eighth grades being my favorite, but the assignment I signed up for was listed incorrectly. I survived and the kids were very good. They were the age that Ariel would have been now, if he lived to see his fifth birthday. Happy little kids. They very nicely asked if they could go to the bathroom - the sign of hope that a new generation will learn politeness. It was just a half day so I got to meet their teacher when she returned to school. Someone should be Ariel’s kindergarten (or Israeli equivalent) teacher right now, not his funeral director.

Shiri and Yarden should be stressed out with parenting two small children, not separated in Gaza and then separated forever, or until the next life if one brings them together. They should have been putting sunscreen on those children to protect them from the Israeli sun, the way that many of my redheaded friends were covered in sunscreen when they visited Israel.

Part of the world looks at redheaded Israelis and thinks, “Look, the Jews are white! They deserve to be slaughtered!” They ripped down the posters of these beautiful children and their parents.

Many of my Jewish friends are redheads. Many of their children are as well. Dear friends - if this is hitting you hard, I am sending love. My friends are parenting kids who are mostly high school and college age now and are navigating the horrors of antisemitic campus climates. My heart goes out to you, always. I am glad my daughter is a cat. Certainly no one can call her white, though I’m sure some would say she is an imperialist judging from her attitude toward wandering mice.

My life is once again uncertain, as it seems it has been for most of a long time. I’m trying to figure out my next steps… work, place to live that is not here and where I can be safely close to my mom, how to pay the bills. Yet one thing is clear: I was not silent. I never have been and I never will be.

I would not trade having spoken up for all the money and so called security that others who did not speak up may cling to.

In the end they come for us all anyway. Being silent or even denouncing Israel is not going to protect Jews forever. That’s just not the way history has gone and I doubt it will change radically now. While it may seem that the aim of those on the far Left and the radical jihadists they follow is to erase the Jewishness of Jews, not necessarily their existence, I doubt that the “As a Jews” would survive long under a true Muslim caliphate, which is what Hamas and the rest of the Muslim Brotherhood has told us, repeatedly, that they want.

Some redheads in my neighborhood dye their hair pink and blue and purple. Perhaps that lessens their identification with the redheaded babies who are probably dead. Perhaps it just poisoned their brains. I have no quarrel with those who wish to have interesting hair colors, but around here there is a correlation between bright pastel hair and keffiyeh wearing.

My hair is not naturally red, though my mother’s is and I got her skin tone, so red looks more natural on me than my real color. Tonight a friend is coming over to cut and color my hair. She makes money on the side doing this and is better than any other stylist I’ve ever had. We get to catch up - she has had a very hard life and done amazing things despite circumstances that would have killed most. Circumstances that have killed many.

I’m coloring my hair the color of Sansa Stark’s, which happens to be the color of the Bibas boys. That just now occurred to me. I am not Israeli, I am not Jewish, but I am with these little ones and their family. I was raised Christian so I do believe that they will be reunited in a better life.

I just wish they were reunited here, on this earth, in this life. I wish they had never been separated. Much of the world may have forgotten, but we must not. Promise that you won’t forget.

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