Hiding Behind The First Amendment
On Friday, I received a note from our synagogue, warning that a hate group could be protesting in front of Jewish organizations in Brooklyn. Their advice was simple - not to engage, not to protest against them. Instead, they suggested spreading messages of tolerance and peace. Very well, I said and dived back into work. I have such confidence in America and the judiciary system here that I always feel that even if I get sided by someone with their anti-semitic comments, I can take it up with the right party and show the wrong doing in this.
Little did I know that I would be caught in the middle of the action on Saturday. I was just walking up Court Street to buy a much belated birthday gift for a friend. I heard people screaming, booing and saw them shaking fists, raising signs up in the air. There was a crowd of Brooklynites on one side of the street, buffering the Kane Street Synagogue. On the other side, there were bunch of who-knows-where-they-came-from types, chanting anti-semitic slogans.
I put two and two together and understood that this was the group I was warned about. Now, having grown up in Turkey and being exposed to such unruly acts, my instinct should have been to flee the scene as quickly as possible. You don't want to be stuck in the middle of an angry crowd.
Yet, I proceeded towards the scene despite what common sense would suggest. I wanted to see what an anti-semite looked like. (These ugly heads pop up everywhere. I have heard them in schools, at work, and even in seemingly close friend circles.) But I wanted to see if there would be any of the faces I imagined. I stood on the side of the synagogue as NYPD dispersed the protesters. I noticed the anti-gay signs then. When looking into locations for our wedding, I had read that Kane Street Synagogue honored same-sex unions. I thought the protesters could be against anything or anyone, removing logic and decency from anything. I didn't see any faces. Not in this country. Not in this time, I thought. I walked away wiping tears of anger and frustration.
I told my family about it. They dismissed it as insignificant. They believe in America. They are convinced it's safer here than anywhere else. I guess you can yell about what you think in a free country.
Little did I know that I would be caught in the middle of the action on Saturday. I was just walking up Court Street to buy a much belated birthday gift for a friend. I heard people screaming, booing and saw them shaking fists, raising signs up in the air. There was a crowd of Brooklynites on one side of the street, buffering the Kane Street Synagogue. On the other side, there were bunch of who-knows-where-they-came-from types, chanting anti-semitic slogans.
I put two and two together and understood that this was the group I was warned about. Now, having grown up in Turkey and being exposed to such unruly acts, my instinct should have been to flee the scene as quickly as possible. You don't want to be stuck in the middle of an angry crowd.
Yet, I proceeded towards the scene despite what common sense would suggest. I wanted to see what an anti-semite looked like. (These ugly heads pop up everywhere. I have heard them in schools, at work, and even in seemingly close friend circles.) But I wanted to see if there would be any of the faces I imagined. I stood on the side of the synagogue as NYPD dispersed the protesters. I noticed the anti-gay signs then. When looking into locations for our wedding, I had read that Kane Street Synagogue honored same-sex unions. I thought the protesters could be against anything or anyone, removing logic and decency from anything. I didn't see any faces. Not in this country. Not in this time, I thought. I walked away wiping tears of anger and frustration.
I told my family about it. They dismissed it as insignificant. They believe in America. They are convinced it's safer here than anywhere else. I guess you can yell about what you think in a free country.
posted by Mimi Media @ 10:41 PM
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