In April 2024, following an antisemitic incident that took place at one of our local high schools, I worked with that district's staff and developed an anti-hate workshop that I have now presented several times over the last two years. The workshop includes what I call a "Gallery of Hate." This gallery features pictures that illustrate what hate looks like. During the workshop, participants walk around and look at each of the 45+ pictures, trying to imagine what it would feel like to be the target of this kind of hate.

There is one particular photo in the gallery that I explain captures the essence of what hate is and what it looks like. It is a photo, from the 2017 Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville,  of a white man, marching with a tiki torch in his hand with a look of anger and rage. (As you read this, I am sure that you may be picturing the exact photo I am referencing.)

However, after the events of this past week, I will start referencing something different as an example of what pure hatred looks like and is spread. I am referring to the now-deleted post from Elmo's X account. This beloved Sesame Street character's account was hacked over the weekend, and the post is a prime example of hate.

What continues to baffle me is not just the rise of antisemitism and hate, but the frequency with which we are witnessing and being subjected to it… in all of its modern forms. Sadly, it feels like it has gone mainstream. Take, for instance, the antisemitic answers that users received and were posted online by Grok, Elon Musk's AI chatbot, last Friday, as it responded to users' questions. Although xAI (Musk's artificial intelligence company) issued a lengthy apology and explanation (albeit the next day) for why its chatbot shared these comments, the damage was already done, and another public instance of antisemitism was witnessed online.

As someone who has spent an extensive amount of time addressing, responding to, and combating antisemitism over the last several years, I am very worried about the frequency with which it is occurring. Although considerable attention has been paid to this epidemic, it still feels like we are alone in fighting it. In some ways, this makes a lot of sense since, after all, we are the target of the hate. And yet, why don't people truly understand how severe the situation is and how detrimental it has been for the Jewish community over the last number of years? Why don't they understand or see that we are standing here, waving our arms, begging for help?

As I shared in last week's column, my colleagues and I from other Jewish organizations are doing everything we can to help get AB715, a bill to address antisemitism in California's K through 12 schools, passed by the state Senate. I believe this bill will be another tool that we can use in our fight against antisemitism.

But what is concerning me right now is that it continues to feel like we are "going it alone" in this fight against this targeted hate. We are still struggling to find allies who can stand with us, even from those we have stood with as they faced hate. Why aren't they standing with us in OUR time of need? Please email me ([email protected]) your thoughts and any ideas you may have on how we can address this locally in our community. By pooling our collective ideas, we may be able to devise an effective and practical approach and even identify a few more vocal allies.