Never heard of Brotherhood and Sisterhood Week? Neither had I. Do we need it? Perhaps now more than ever.
As a young Jew growing up in a primarily Christian neighborhood, I wasn’t fazed that our synagogue was 45 minutes away—and there were five churches within a two-mile radius from our house. Though I was proud to bring my menorah to school and talk about Chanukah, or teach my class the Dreidel song, I was always told not to “advertise” my Jewishness.
Still, there were never any Swastikas painted on the sides of buildings, there were no anti-Semitic incidents, and I grew up feeling safe.
Until I was in sixth grade—when I overheard three classmates in the cafeteria playing a game. They were flipping a coin. Heads, Jews live. Tails, Jews die. They were looking at me. And laughing.
One of those boys had been my friend. I didn’t want to be a tattletale, but I was hurt. So that afternoon, I wrote about the incident in my school journal. When my teacher read my troubling words, letters were sent home and the administration had the three boys read a book about the Holocaust. They all wrote me apologies. I could tell that my friend was really torn up. He apologized in person.
This incident became a blip in the radar and I still felt safe as a Jew in my hometown. But I always wondered what it would be like to live in a city where people understood why I didn’t go to class or work on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, and where there was more than one box of Chanukah candles on the shelf.
Fast forward several years later when I moved to Los Angeles. Every time I called home I had good news. “Mom! You should see the kosher for Passover section at the market. There are rows and rows!” “Every Friday night there are Jews walking to temple! It’s awesome!” “Mom, I met a new friend today. She’s Jewish!”
I felt safe. Welcome. And at home. Now I could wear that Star of David out to dinner. I could light Chanukah candles with coworkers on the lot of Fox Studios.
But recently, there’s been a shift. I’m hearing about anti-Semitic incidents more and more—right here in L.A. Swastikas are appearing on buildings. Jewish families with young children are being harassed by drive-by words of hate.
In a city teeming with Jews, I’m starting to wonder if I’m safe. What will happen next? And who is standing up against the hate?
A few weeks ago, I happened to glance up at my Jewish calendar and noticed that next week, February 15th-21st, is designated as Brotherhood and Sisterhood Week. Founded by Franklin Roosevelt in 1934, this annual event is meant to engage people of diverse faiths to discuss not only our differences, but to recognize the ways in which we are all the same—uniting in our human brotherhood and sisterhood.
Inspired, I searched the Internet for signs of any events taking place in L.A. I found nothing. A local rabbi admitted he’d never even heard of Brotherhood and Sisterhood Week. So I’m challenging all of us to not only consider the impact a week like this could make, but to mark our calendars for next year and take steps to reduce the amount of hate and enhance understanding within our city—because, given recent events in Los Angeles and across the globe, we need to now more than ever.
