A Jewish man wearing a yarmulke was shot multiple times on his way to synagogue in Chicago. A rabbi in Maryland was attacked by a man wielding a wooden stake. In Manhattan, a man wearing a yarmulke was called “dirty Jew” before being punched in the face. Each of these assaults occurred within a two-week span last month.
One year ago, such scenes would have been unimaginable; few American Jews thought twice about publicly identifying as Jewish. Wearing a yarmulke, displaying a Star of David, or affixing a mezuzah to our doorways were solemn acts of faith and tradition—not risks to personal safety.
But since the Oct. 7 attack on Israel by Hamas, public expressions of Jewish identity are increasingly met with suspicion and hostility, leaving many in our community feeling vulnerable and unsafe. A recent Anti-Defamation League report underscores this shift, showing antisemitic incidents across the U.S. have surged over 200%—an unsettling reflection of how the Israel-Hamas war has impacted American streets.
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In my hometown of Houston, our diverse, welcoming community has long respected and embraced all faiths, and peaceful expressions of Jewish identity have blended seamlessly into the city’s rich tapestry. Aside from the occasional incident, such as the man who was flagged by the FBI after posting his support of killing Jews, antisemitism has not been a major issue here.
Yet the rising fear around visible Jewish identity is hard to ignore. I’ve worn a yarmulke all 24 years I’ve been a rabbi here, but recently found myself removing it in certain public settings. It’s not that I felt an immediate threat to my safety as I entered a local café or as I walked around town, but I felt enough wariness about how it would be received that I tucked it in my pocket until I knew I was in a safe location. For the first time in my life, I even felt the need for a security escort on my walk home from Yom Kippur services this year.
By no means am I an outlier. Last year, a family in my community elected to tone down their Hanukkah decorations, trading festive displays for a quieter observance. Similarly, several members of my synagogue have told me that they are considering taking down their mezuzahs, the piece of parchment with Torah verses that Jewish people hang on their doorposts, for fear that these recognizable symbols will make them targets.
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Beyond Houston, Jews are being identified and targeted simply for who they are. In May, two Orthodox Jewish children were assaulted in Brooklyn. In September, a man in Michigan told police he was beaten after his assailant asked him if he was Jewish. One month prior, Jewish students wearing yarmulkes at the University of Pittsburgh were attacked only a few miles from the Tree of Life synagogue, the site where 11 worshippers were murdered in the deadliest antisemitic attack in U.S. history.
While fear grows within our community, there are actions we must take collectively to help combat this alarming rise in violent anti-Jewish hate. The White House’s National Strategy to Combat Antisemitism is an essential first step, but requires careful coordination. I strongly urge the Biden Administration to appoint—and the future Trump Administration to retain—a dedicated coordinator to help lead the interagency process that is working to implement the strategy and guarantee that its benchmarks are being met.
Further, every state should follow the examples set by Virginia and Massachusetts, which have created comprehensive strategies to counteract antisemitism. In Texas, Gov. Greg Abbott’s Administration is providing resources and implementing programs that foster education and resilience against hate. Initiatives like these ensure that all parts of government, as well as schools, businesses, community organizations, and law enforcement, do their part to address growing antisemitism.
This work cannot be done in isolation. The fight against antisemitism is not just a Jewish cause; it’s an American cause. Left unchecked, antisemitism is a disease that undermines the moral fabric of our communities and compromises the safety and well-being of all Americans. This is why preventive measures and policies are essential, not just to protect Jewish lives but to safeguard the inclusive values we hold dear as a nation.
We are at a critical juncture. The White House, state governments, and local communities have the power to ensure that Jews—and all Americans—can express their heritage without fear. Taking off a yarmulke, or removing a piece of jewelry that identifies you as Jewish, may seem like a small action. But it is indicative of a growing anxiety in a Jewish community that has seen an explosive growth in antisemitism. Through education, strategic law enforcement, and unified responses that protect every community member, we can reclaim the safety we once knew and build a future where no one feels compelled to prioritize well-being over their identity.
