I am not a Jew.
So that means I have no idea what it's like to live as part of thousands of years of oppression.
I have no idea what it feels like to know that large numbers of people look down on me or dislike me without knowing me, simply because of who I am, or what my last name is, or what god I worship.
Because I am not Jewish, I don't have to live with the thought that some people want me dead. My place of worship doesn't need extra security. Nobody protests against my religion.
The Nazi movement of the 1930s and 1940s -- indeed, even today -- was designed to rid the world of Jews. Hitler and his gang of misfits blamed Jews for German's defeat in World Wat I. They blamed Jews for German's crumbling economy and sky-high inflation and unemployment. And so they set about murdering some 6 million European Jews.
Sadly, neo-Nazi groups still exist, including in the United States. Supporters chanted "Jews will not replace us" at a rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, in 2017. So-called skinhead groups are proliferating in Hungary and the Czech Republic, among other countries.
I am not a Jew, but I like to think that I am a fair, open-minded person who accepts people of all religions -- and of no religion. A few years ago I spent more than a week studying the origins and conduct of the Holocaust. This trip, sponsored by Road Scholar, began in Berlin, where we visited sites integral to the foundations of the Holocaust.
You can read about what I saw and experienced during this trip at https://redrocksandsunflowers.blogspot.com/2023/01/never-forget.html
Because I am not a Jew, it's likely that this experience had less impact on me than on other, Jewish, members of my group. This isn't to say, however, that those experiences did not have a huge impact on me. Always a history buff, that trip lit a huge flame of desire to learn more about the Holocaust, those behind it, and those who survived it.
Since that trip I have read many dozens of books -- some historical, some autobiographical, some biographical, and some historical fiction -- about this dark time. I am trying to understand.
Still, I am not a Jew, so I cannot begin to comprehend the disbelief, the anger, the fear and the abject terror still felt by all Jews everywhere, but particularly those directly impacted by the recent slaughter in Israel.
I have some Jewish friends, and I have struggled, and continue to struggle, to find the right words to say to them. "I'm so sorry" seems empty and void. But I have trouble sleeping as I think about the horrors that were perpetrated on innocent Israelis. I think about all the hostages and I wonder if they, too, have been slaughtered.
I don't know what to say, so I share memes and graphics on my social media page in a pathetic attempt to offer support. That is not enough, but is there anything that is enough?
I am not a Jew, so all I can do is to be there for my Jewish friends and to be supportive. But what does that really mean? These friends live in other states, so I can't give them a hug or share a cup of coffee with them.
I can call out those who spew antisemitic hatred. Fortunately, I have no friends who are obviously antisemitic.
I am not a Jew, but I support my Jewish friends who are hurting and angry. I, too, am angry that a people simply seeking to live in peace and worship their god as they choose have been marginalized, brutalized and slaughtered for millennia.
I am not a Jew by ethnicity or by religion, but in reality, we all must be Jews.