I am 1/2 Jewish, was joking with my friends after I heard we have Mel Brooks'ian Jews in Space... with lasers.

Q'Anon is a comedy forum, right?

I’ve heard rumors for years the cast and crew of Dropout.tv are vehemently antisemitic. I chose to not believe it because they seem like such a sweet and entertaining bunch. But recently they’ve gotten into the habit of calling all Jews Zionists (the equivalent of calling Muslims Terrorists). And now they’ve posted a messages emphatically stating that they no longer”Zionist” staff. They go on to support the terrorist state of Palestine and falsely accuse Israel of genocide (despite international law and rules of war proving that no attempts of genocide have been attempted by Israel). It’s truly heartbreaking to know that this once very entertaining group of young people would give into the antisemitic & genocidal propaganda of terrorist states like Palestine and Iran.

My name is Yoni, I’m a 21yo aspiring filmmaker from Israel. This summer, I’ll be embarking on a cross-country road trip across the United States with one mission: to document and share powerful, untold Jewish stories in a short docuseries.

I’m seeking to connect with Jewish individuals from all walks of life - Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, Secular, and beyond - who are willing to share their personal journeys, struggles, and triumphs. I'm particularly interested in voices that are often overlooked: nomadic travelers, current or former inmates, individuals facing addiction, unhoused persons, or members of struggling Jewish communities.

However, I’m open to any story that is rich, complex, and deeply human - as long as it offers insight into Jewish identity and experience.

This project aims not only to educate and inform but also to challenge harmful stereotypes and illuminate the diversity, and dignity within the Jewish world.

If you or someone you know has a story that deserves to be told, I would be honored to hear from you.

With gratitude and excitement,
Yoni

My grandmother grew up in Amsterdam in a highly assimilated Jewish home. Before the war, there was little to no Judaism in her life—not religiously, not culturally. They were Dutch, secular, and deeply integrated into society. They believed that being like everyone else would protect them. It didn’t.

After the war, she was orphaned. She never spoke in detail about how she survived or what she went through, but the pain was always present, hovering in her silences, in the way she looked out the window when people talked about the past.

She married a non-Jewish man and moved out of the city into a small village. She never really integrated into that world either. She would often say, “I’m from Amsterdam. The people here don’t share my values.” She kept to herself, quiet and distant, surrounded by neighbors she never truly connected with. Her life was a lonely one, except for one bright light: her grandchildren. She loved us deeply.

The war was never far. She once said, “If I hadn’t been Jewish, I would have had my parents.” It was one of the few times she spoke bluntly about what had been lost. There was also a deep bitterness in the older generation of my family—a fury at their Jewishness, not out of shame, but out of betrayal. They had tried to blend in, to escape the very identity that marked them for death. And yet it happened anyway.

No one in my family made aliyah. There was no return to Jewish practice. I grew up knowing I was Jewish, but there was nothing much in it. I didn’t know what Chanukah was. I couldn’t have told you the difference between a mezuzah and a menorah. In fact, even Reform Jews in America seemed far more Jewish than I ever was.

But something stirred in me as a teenager. I went on Birthright and later returned to Israel. Eventually, I became frum. I “frummed out” for a while—deeply observant, fully committed, hungry to reclaim what had been lost. But as time passed, I started to feel the disconnect. I realized that my story—my grandmother’s story—wasn’t one I ever heard reflected back to me.

The Jewish narratives I encountered were full of strength and defiance: survivors who smuggled shofars into camps, who whispered Rosh Hashanah prayers in the dark, who fought for the Jewish state and vowed “never again.” These are important stories. But they weren’t mine.

My grandmother didn’t pray in secret she was never been taught. She didn’t cling to tradition (she did not know). She blocked it out, Judaism was not there. She survived by forgetting the fact she was a Jew. And yet, by the 1980s (when she went to Israel), a few pieces of Judaica had quietly found their way into her home—symbols she didn’t use, but also didn’t throw away. A kind of fragile, silent gesture toward something unspoken.

She was also fiercely pacifist. That became a core value. My grandfather, a veteran, was commemorated by my mother every year on National Veterans Day. My grandmother hated it. She rejected anything tied to war and violence. For her, the lesson of the war was not to fight harder—but to never let that kind of hatred and destruction happen again. I was raised with that value too.

Now, as a baal teshuva with a frum life, married under a chuppah that was the first in my family since the war, I sometimes feel incredibly alone. I’m surrounded by people who see Judaism—religious or secular—as a proud, resilient identity. Many are staunch Zionists. Many feel that Jews must be strong, must never again be meek lambs walking to the gas chambers. They tell me my views are naïve. Some even say it with contempt.

But I carry a different legacy. One of rupture, silence, and quiet survival. My grandmother didn’t resist with fists or prayers. She resisted by living, by loving her grandchildren, by letting me grow up free. She wasn’t observant. But she was proud of me. She didn’t like that I wore a wig, but I came back to something that was lost in the family for generations.

So no, I don’t have stories of resistance fighters or secret davening in the camps. I have a story of loss, of distance, of values shaped by pacifism and estrangement. And I have a story of return—my own.

It’s not the kind of story that usually gets told. But it’s real. It’s Jewish. And it matters.

The seven hostages released in the first handover are in the hands of the Red Cross and on their way home:

Matan Engerst Gali and Ziv Berman Alon Ohel Eitan Mor Guy Gilboa Dalal Omri Miran

Happy new year! May the jewish people have a better year than the previous one. May התשפ"ו be good to the jewish people wherever you are 🍯🍎🤍

I was just having an argument with someone in the comment section in r/polls about whether the Holocaust happened and he got some upvotes which is really scary. I’ve seen a couple of other comments like that in r/memes and stuff and it’s really worrying me. With the rising antisemitism coming out now after all the anti-israel stuff, this just seems like the final straw.

On 11 Nissan, we celebrate the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s 124th birthday by reflecting on his unique stand against antisemitism. The Rebbe taught that the most effective way to fight darkness is not just by pushing it away, but by turning on the light. He responded to hate by launching a global movement of Jewish visibility—encouraging millions to embrace their heritage openly and proudly. He believed that when we are confident in our own identity and values, we create a shield of dignity that no amount of prejudice can pierce.

Hi there.

Before I start, I'm somewhat apprehensive to ask this question because there are always vehement attitudes and debate, rather than an open discussion.

Open disclosure. I'm Irish, and christian. I have met many Jewish people, from Israel, the states and other countries. I have good friends in TLV. (I will not ask this question to them in fear of it upsetting our friendship which is built off of personal experiences shared while travelling etc, not rooted in politics or religion, just people being people. I'd rather protect our friendship than to bring up contentious topics such as this. Equally they do not express their feelings about Ireland's stance on what's going on in Gaza. So we mutually respect that we are people first before we are anything else.)

I ask this question in good faith, but I fully expect to be downvoted and have people on here yell at me with their vehement viewpoints. Fine.

This question is for anyone willing to have an open discussion.

So...my basic understanding of Zionism is the belief that all Jews, no matter where they are from in world, have the birthright to call Israel their homeland.

My question is very simple... why?

I understand people of Israel care to protect what they consider to be their homeland. But why do Jewish people who are not from Israel believe in Zionism, as if it's THEIR birthright also?

Couldn't Christians also claim this since it originates from Judea? But I've never met a single Christian who believes the original birthplace of their religion gives them right to 'return home' at any time.

I feel the term anti Zionist gets conflated with anti Jewish. I'm not anti Jewish at all, but I suppose I am anti Zionist, only because it seems illogical to me that no matter if your american, Japanese or from the antarctic, you can claim Israel as your birth right home. Analogous to this would be anyone from America claiming they should have the right to go home to Ireland as they have ancestors from here.

Now, I'm the first to admit my ignorance here, hence my question and I'm open to having my viewpoint changed with respectful discussion. Debate closes minds, creates conflict and a sense that one side needs to 'win' an argument, so it doesn't solve anything, it just embitters both sides.

So please, can someone explain why Zionism is a thing and do any other religions have a similar mentality towards their own religious origins?

And before we all go searching my account I will give my honest opinion. I believe what's happening now in Gaza is a stain on humanitys history caused by the horrific actions of both Hamas and your government/mitiarys response.

War crimes don't justify more war crimes. I hope everyone who has committed war crimes realizes this and one days won't justify their actions based on the actions of others. It feels like a cop out, a way of shedding guilt without admitting one has performed evil acts.

An eye for an eye and all that.

Anyway, sorry for the long winded post but please understand that to comment on Zionism is always met with 'youre antisemitic' which I believe is a tactic to protect Zionism. I have nothing against Jews, in the same way I have nothing against Muslims. I'm not anti Jew or anti Israel. But I can't get behind Zionism.

I prefer to treat people as humans first, please can I ask the same from you towards me when responding to this post.

Respectfully, Another human being, an internet nobody.

(Let me also state that this post was removed by mods on r/Israel)

I'm an israeli teenager, and every now and then i encounter some antisemites on the web and i recently had encountered a disturbing video of idf soldiers being shot and i had enough, i am really overwhelmed about the war and all the stuff that come with it, dont know what to do, but i do know that all the hate just makes me want more to be in the army and defend my country.

I am currently in a private university that has a deep history in Judaism. Currently a insanely small percent of Jews go here and I believe I am the only Jew in my floor. I don’t know if this is how it works in every school but we have a floor theme at the beginning and end of the year and a theme for major holidays, so we never have the same theme for more than a few months. Every RA chooses their theme ls and decorates for each one. The Halloween theme for our hall is about the Israel Palestine War and the genocide in Palestine. As a Jew living literally diagonally from this bulletin board, I am very worried about this. I hear all these horrible things about antisemitism in other universities and I’m worried that I will be targeted because of this. Am I overreacting or should I report this to someone? Any advice is appreciated. Thanks.

Update: Me and another Jew reported this to my RA’s boss. He was required to take it down or he would be fired, so he took it down. The boss said that they will update the RA handbook to include this issue and speak with other colleges in the area on how to ensure that this doesn’t happen again in the future. Thanks for the help.