Every day I put on my Star of David necklace. I don’t want to hide—not because I’m trying to get attention. I never thought a little symbol could inspire such hatred. However, being openly Jewish on campus has changed over the past year from a silent act of identity to a silent act of resistance.

As an international student, I came to the U.S. with hope: hope of freedom, education and safety. I never expected that I’d see echoes of the same hatred my grandparents fled decades ago.

It wasn’t a dramatic outburst the first time I felt it. It was barely audible. I heard one student murmur “Here come the colonizers” as I passed a group of students after Shabbat dinner. I froze. I continued to walk, uncertain, wondering if that was truly aimed at me or at us. However, the uncertainty was more significant than the insult. The murmurs became louder over time. Anonymous flyers were displayed in the library accusing Jews of controlling the media. When a group of students chanted slogans, I felt uneasy crossing the campus. The thing that hurt the most was seeing my former classmates participate in those demonstrations and post online anti-Israel content with overtones that bordered on anti-Semitism. Instead of staying silent, I acted.

I started by contacting my campus Hillel and joining a group of Jewish and allied students who wanted to educate rather than retaliate. During campus cultural week we set up a table called “Ask Me Anything,” where students could freely ask Jewish students questions concerning anti-Semitism, Israel, Zionism and Judaism. Some showed up to argue. Others arrived to gain knowledge. However, we were present, composed, arrogant and obvious. That was relevant.

After that, I collaborated with our student government and faculty to suggest a system for reporting instances of bias and hate speech including anti-Semitism as a university-wide policy. I assisted in setting up a forum where Jewish students told their stories to be heard, not to win sympathy. Our collective voice took the place of the silence in which we had once suffered. A few months later the administration announced the establishment of a task force to combat religious bias and anti-Semitism on campus. Not much, but progress nonetheless.

I discovered that you don’t have to yell to fight hate. When the time is right you must speak. You have to come. I didn’t want to be removed from the discussion even though I might not have convinced everyone. 

These days anti-Semitism is not always accompanied by a swastika. Sometimes it’s a sarcastic comment, a meme or a slogan. Its effects are genuine. I have witnessed the fear it instills in the eyes of students. However, I have also witnessed the power it evokes. The generation we belong to will not reveal who we are. It will be us who confidently and clearly stand, speak and declare: “No one shall be afraid.”