“It isn’t you, until it is”
October 7, 2023. Life changed as I know it. My name is Emma Voykhanskaya, a 19-year-old daughter to two amazing parents who immigrated to America for a better life. Let me dive into why America would give them a better life than Russia ever did. My parents are here on refugee status. When someone is in America under refugee status, it means they were prosecuted or feared prosecution due to race, religion, or nationality. You may have guessed it. Yes, we are Jewish. Proud to be Jewish. My parents faced extreme antisemitism in Russia, which led to their immigration in 1996. It was shameful to be a Jew. Growing up, my mother and father have both shared their stories with me: the loss of friends due to who they are, discrimination received from their professors, discrimination all around. I am not here to share my parents’ antisemitic experiences. Nor their story. Though it is a good one. I am unsure what I am exactly trying to achieve here. All I know is that October 7th is something that has truly affected me as an individual. And when I truly care, I can truly write. So here I am.
I am a strong-willed, sociable, and caring individual. Always have been. I am told at times that I can be very straightforward, which can scare my relatives and peers. However, if I truly believe in something, I am not one to pretend to think another way because it upsets those around me. With this writing, I am not here to write about the “Free Palestine” movement. I am not here to dive into the history that many argue. I am here as a proud Jewish student in America, expressing why the events that occurred on October 7th brought me closer to who I am.
I don’t know Hebrew; I have never been to Israel, though that is in the works for me. I did go to summer Jewish camp, a short period of Hebrew school, and Israeli songs make me feel like no other. You guys get the gist. All I do know from a young age is that the world isn’t the fondest of us. Now more than ever I can blatantly see it. I am fortunate enough to never have experienced true antisemitism. I know many who have. Seeing footage of loved ones who are currently held hostage is heartbreaking. Happy, loving, innocent individuals who have fallen victim to Hamas’s mission to get rid of the Jews. I don’t know these individuals personally, yet they feel so close. Those are my people. We face the same issues. Our families have been through the unimaginable. We are bonded. More than ever. I have never been to Israel, yet I know that when I get there, I will feel most at home.
There is one piece of footage that truly brought me to tears. A riot in Russia broke out and, in this video, you see one man against hundreds. He is vouching that he is not Jewish. Knowing, if it comes out, he is, he would be dead. How this is deemed ok by others is beyond me. Watching this video, all I could imagine was my father. A Russian speaking man who is being pushed around, unable to get home, because the people would like to know if he is Jewish. God forbid he is. Imagining my father trying to get home to his wife, his father, his two daughters, who were all waiting for him to get home, all I could do was cry. The scariest thing about all of this is, it isn’t you, until it is.
As I reflect on the disturbing footage and the underlying issue of antisemitism, I am reminded of the inherent difficulty in addressing such deeply ingrained prejudices. While disagreements over history and politics are commonplace, it’s the insidious nature of antisemitism that truly troubles me. It’s disheartening to confront the reality that some individuals harbor hatred solely based on one’s religious identity. We may all have our differences and quirks, but to face discrimination simply for being Jewish is a particularly bitter pill to swallow. If one didn’t like me for the personality I pertain, fine. However, if someone didn’t like me for my religion, I know, I am not the problem. I recall a story my father shared with me, highlighting the profound ignorance that often underpins antisemitic beliefs. Despite enjoying a close friendship with someone from a different background, my father’s friend was taken aback upon realizing he was attending a Jewish wedding. He was so taken aback that he made remarks such as “This doesn’t make sense, you’re a good person. But you don’t drink the blood of babies.” His remarks, tainted by age-old stereotypes, serve as a stark reminder of the harmful misconceptions that persist. The fact that such prejudice still exists in our modern world is deeply troubling. My father’s experience shows that hate is taught. His friend wasn’t born to think this way of us, he was taught it.
Waking up today to the news of the successful rescue of two hostages fills me with pride and optimism, even as I acknowledge that there are many more waiting to be brought home. As a young Jewish woman, this moment reinforces my pride in our community’s resilience. While it’s been a challenging 129 days, knowing that our soldiers have managed to rescue two hostages fills me with pride and reminds me of the perseverance ingrained in our heritage. I’m deeply grateful for the dedication of the people of Israel and the brave service members of the IDF who work tirelessly to protect and rescue. This victory serves as a prominent reminder of why we continue to persevere in the face of adversity. It’s a testament to our strength as a community and our unwavering commitment to ensuring the safety and well-being of our people. As we celebrate this success, let it fuel our determination to continue working towards a better, safer future for all. One thing I know for sure, is the Jews don’t give up.
Allow me to share another story, one that has been passed down through generations. It’s about my great grandfather, Michael, whose interview is currently housed in the Virginia Holocaust Museum. While I have few memories of him, I take pride in being his granddaughter. During the Holocaust, my great grandfather witnessed the brutal murder of his entire family before his very eyes. Despite the unimaginable horrors he endured, he managed to escape not once, but twice. The first attempt led to his capture and return to the camp, yet undeterred, he made a second daring escape and successfully fled. He was a fighter, much like me.
On October 7th, we faced an attack, prompting Israel to take necessary action to protect its people. While these measures are regrettable, they are deemed necessary under the circumstances. It’s disheartening that such conflict arose, especially considering that initiating war was not our preference. However, understanding the motivations of groups like Hamas sheds light on their actions — driven by their mission to eliminate Jewish presence. The repercussions of the attack extended beyond Israel, reaching Jewish students in America who faced threats and fear for their safety. It was so severe that Hamas expressed their gratitude towards those students causing fear. Witnessing footage of students, endearing such harassment, coupled with the indifference of school authorities, is truly heartbreaking.
As a sophomore at Pace University, I hold significant roles on campus, including representing cross-country on the student-athlete advisory board and serving as the athletics senator in student government. Reflecting on the challenges faced by universities like Cornell, Harvard, and Columbia, I realize how fortunate we are here. While I am grateful for my circumstances, I’m aware that many of my friends are not as fortunate. I have mentioned this before, but it’s worth emphasizing again: the unsettling reality is that it isn’t you, until it is.
While this paper may be all over the place, one theme is unmistakable: Jewish unity is stronger than ever. Personally, my Jewish identity has evolved significantly, carrying deeper significance than before. Despite the state of the world, Jewish resilience prevails. You would think with all that is going on in the world, my pride would falter. Unfortunately for many, that isn’t the spirit of the Jewish people. So here I stand, proud to be Jewish.
