September 2024
Elena Nieterman

Not so long ago, I would rummage through my jewelry box before work  to choose a necklace that would look best with my outfit. Today, I no longer have the luxury of choosing. I wear a gold Star of David to make a statement and stand in solidarity with my people in the place where we no longer feel welcome: the university campus.

I’ve witnessed a lot of hostility towards Jews and Israelis on university campuses over the last 20 years: at McMaster, where I completed my PhD, at the University of Waterloo, where I teach. On both campuses, anti-Israeli posters can pop up like mushrooms after a rainy day. Once a year we’re confronted with Israeli Apartheid week, about which I often joke that of all the countries in the world with questionable human rights records, only Israel is deserving of such special recognition. 

Just over 18 months ago, University of Waterloo’s Jewish faculty fought a motion put forward by our Faculty Association to reject the IHRA (International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance) definition of antisemitism, which some felt would not allow them to exercise their freedom of speech. I  told my colleagues that I found it ironic that in the six years I had been at the university, the only time the Association had mentioned  antisemitism was in order to reject any attempt to define it. They didn’t think it was funny.  

After Oct. 7, hatred towards Jews and Israel on university campuses exploded with a force that shocked all of us. Mask-wearing protestors calling for the elimination of the State of Israel became a part of the university experience. Then came the encampments, with their slogans, protests, and demands to boycott Israel.  I no longer felt I belonged on campus.    

At the University of Waterloo, my Jewish colleagues and I reached out to the University of Waterloo administration, the Faculty Association, Human Resources, and the EDI office with our concerns, but were either dismissed or ignored. At the University of Guelph, my son and his friends had to contact police because of the threats they received for expressing their solidarity with Israel.  At McMaster University, pro-Palestinian protests and antisemitic rhetoric became an integral part of my other son’s freshman experience. At Wilfrid Laurier University, where I study social work,  I have learned about racism, homophobia, islamophobia, ableism, and  ageism, but not about hatred of Jews. 

In the face of this, many of us have chosen to fight for our right to feel safe on university campuses: like the Jewish students who came out every day with Israeli flags and pictures of the hostage to eat lunch next to the Waterloo encampment, like my Jewish and non-Jewish coworkers who joined the students—rain or shine—to ensure they were not alone. However terrible the encampment was, it served to create a sense of community and collective identity. 

In this new year, I believe there is much that we can do. We need to raise awareness about the reality of  antisemitism on campus. We must reclaim our safety, we need to educate, and we need to file complaints  about antisemitic incidents (i.e. inappropriate slogans, posters, comments, or course content).  We must put the issue of antisemitism on university administrations’ radar. Doing nothing is no longer an option—we must act, every time, every occasion. 

Our young people need to become more politically active. The universities are governed through myriads of boards and committees, and almost each one of them has a student representative. It is not by chance that the vast majority of students occupying these positions express strong anti-Israel views. Running for elections for student unions and associations, as program representatives, or membership in the student senate will potentially enable Jewish students to be present in the meetings where their voices will be heard.

Jewish parents are rightly concerned about what their children might encounter on campus, but they also have reason to be proud. Our children are exceptionally resilient, and they are not shying away from the fight. Joining other Jews on campus through Chabad, Hillel, or other Jewish organizations and reporting antisemitic incidents is how they can fight and feel a part of the community. This community is tiny, but it is passionate and strong. David was also tiny, but he managed to beat Goliath. Perhaps we can beat Goliath too.    

Elena Neiterman is an associate professor at the University of Waterloo’s Faculty of Health.