I, Micah D. Halpern, am an unabashedly proud Jew.
Let me tell you why.
I don’t wear my pride on my proverbial sleeve; I wear it on my head. As a New Yorker, the only metropolitan area with more Jews than any other city in the world is Tel Aviv/Gush Dan. I walk the streets of New York, ride the subway, and attend theater and concerts and ball games and meetings – all with my kippah on my head.
Not in my pocket. On my head.
The only time I cover my kippah with a cap or a hat is dictated not by fear or hateful, ugly slurs or antisemitic political figures and their slogans, but by the local weather. When the wind gusts over seven miles per hour, my kippah blows off my head.
Jewish culture in New York
Today, about one million Jews are living in the five boroughs of NYC and another million in the suburbs. Jewish history, culture, and Jewish identity are intertwined with New York City.
Jewish immigrants helped shape and build New York into the city it is today. Jews were dominant and respected figures, trusted for their intellect and creativity. From freshly arrived immigrants in Washington Heights to the pushcarts of the Lower East Side to swanky Park Avenue dwellers, Jews were part of the fabric.
Theater, newspapers, finance, and the labor movement were influenced by and flourished because of New York’s Jews. And the food? Bialys, bagels, knishes, Danish pastries, and the popular pickle that sold for a nickel are all Jewish, all New York.
Sadly, ironically, Jew hatred is emerging in a city that is so very Jewish and so very filled with Jews. Surprisingly, pleasantly so, and despite the unabashed Jew hatred – maybe because of that hatred – I have seen more and more men and boys wearing kippot on city streets. I have not asked them why they wear their kippot in public because I know why I wear mine.
My kippah is symbolic.
My kippah allows other Jews a moment of pride in their Jewishness, too.
My kippah speaks volumes.
The significance of the kippah
Wearing a kippah every day, all the time, is not mentioned in the Bible. It is not a commandment – it is a tradition mentioned in the Talmud. It serves as a reminder that God is above us.
I wear it as an Orthodox Jew, but I know many Orthodox men who do not. They wear baseball caps or take off their kippot – some out of fear, others out of convenience.
I do not and will not take my kippah off. Despite the rise of anti-Jewish rhetoric, the attacks by Jew haters and the organized rallies supporting Hamas and attacking Israel, I wear my kippah.
My kippah is a sign of my pride and of Jewish solidarity.
I know parents who have asked their children, and spouses who have been beseeched, to either hide or take off their kippot as well as their identifiably Jewish jewelry, such as necklaces with Hebrew names or Stars of David. I understand their fear, but I disagree with their analysis and their actions.
My kippah will not be hidden.
As a proud Jew, I do not believe in hiding.
As a proud Jew, I have an obligation to stand tall.
As a proud Jew, I must not be cowed by the voices of hatred and anger.
There is a long and valued history of Jews standing against hatred, fighting for equality and justice in the US.
From the labor movement to the civil rights movement to the women’s movement to the Soviet Jewry movement, the United States has a long and valued history of Jews standing against hatred and fighting for equality. Much of it began in New York City.
The lessons of history remind me that being neutral will not pacify hatred, and that being quiet will not mollify or placate Jew haters. Ignoring them will not satisfy them, and being neutral emboldens them. Remaining quiet is not pragmatic – it is foolish and shameful, and even cowardly.
Seeing an encampment with a sign that reads GO BACK TO POLAND requires a peaceful and legal response. There is a place for legitimate critique of Israel’s policies, but tropes and attacks on all Jews – and on Israel’s very existence – need a legal, peaceful, and prideful challenge.
Some say that wearing a kippah in New York City today takes courage. I never thought of it that way.
My kippah conveys a sense of dignity.
My kippah conveys a sense of community.
My kippah conveys that I have skin in the game, and that my Jewish life and identity are not theoretical or convenient, but genuine.
I am an unabashedly proud Jew who wears my kippah as a kiddush Hashem.
The writer is a columnist and a social and political commentator. Watch his TV show, Thinking Out Loud, on JBS.