My friends,
I am sorry that I could not join you in person for safety reasons, but I thank the organizers for sharing a few words on my behalf.
My heart has been with all of you these past five months. I join you in seeking release of the hostages now. I join you in seeking peace – peace for the Palestinians – peace for Israelis – peace for us all.
I am told the theme for this week is resilience and so I have spent the last few days reflecting on my own resilience – as the lone voice in government speaking up for the Jewish community and how difficult it had become while others remained silent. I also focused on how much more difficult it became after I was forced to resign, feeling punished for speaking up about Jew-hatred.
I reflected on where the strength, the koach came from to persist, when it would have been so much easier to be silent, to fade into the background, to go along with the others and to pretend that everything was okay.
So, from where do I draw the strength?
It comes from different places:
- A husband outraged that his wife is poorly treated by her colleagues, forced from a role she loves and who now keeps a baseball bat in the bedroom because others are threatening her life.
- A son who stopped going to his gym shortly after the massacre on Oct. 7 because the Port Moody gym owner and city councillor decided that putting up a large Palestinian flag in her gym demonstrating to the world that she suddenly cares so deeply about a complex geopolitical conflict thousands of miles away is more important than the hurt this causes friends, colleagues, and customers.
- A daughter who now must find significant financial resources to make sure the Jewish children in her care are safe this summer.
My strength has also come from:
- The two Jewish professional women who, as a requirement of their jobs, came to hear the Throne Speech at the Legislature in February. They were forced to find a safe route into the building as there were dozens of protesters aggressively calling for a unilateral ceasefire and the destruction of Jews.
- The physicians who refuse to train Jew-hating UBC medical students.
- The teachers who organize to push back on the Jew-hatred we are seeing in the [BC Teachers’ Federation].
- The people working in the public service who are telling their stories of intimidation like being told that their Jewish star necklace is a symbol of genocide.
Resilience for me comes from the countless stories from people who talk about being fearful at work, from Holocaust survivors who say, “It’s happening again.”
Resilience comes from Jewish community leaders and volunteers who are doing everything they can to keep programs running, to push government to do the right thing, to care for their congregants who are scared and worried, and who lead by example.
Resilience comes from the emails and letters from hundreds of people, Jewish and non-Jewish alike, who remind me that even though I felt alone in my caucus and in government, I was not alone. I am not alone. We are not alone. Many were seeing what I was seeing, what we are seeing and are prepared to stand up to Jew-hatred.
Resilience comes from reaching out to others who are hurting too and finding out that they want to help heal our wounds together.
Resilience comes from seeing the Oct. 7 survivors of rape and torture pick up the pieces of their lives. It comes from seeing Israelis gather once again to protest their government. It comes from so many of you who have reached out with words of support, encouragement, and love.
Resilience comes from us gathering our collective strength as we lift each other up and remind ourselves that we are not alone – that together we will find the strength – the strength to bring peace.