It is hard to be Jewish these days. Even in the bicycling scene.

In so many scenes and activities that aren't remotely connected to my being Jewish, I've encountered a crap metric ton of discomfort, especially since October 7, 2023.

At least three different sessions of Bike Happy Hour last spring and summer were starting or ending points for pro-Palestinian/anti-Israel group rides. After the first such event surprised me and I got noticbly long and uncomfortable stares from people who saw my star of David necklace, I made sure to tuck it inside my shirt after that. At the next couple of events where pro-Palestinian rides were being advertised to meet up at BHH, I made sure to take my leave when the very first riders from the group arrived. I just didn't have the energy to deal with that as a potential minority of one.

When Bike Summer began in June with a large group party and ride that attracted hordes of people, I went downtown for the party and counted at least fifty bikes festooned with Palestinian flags and signs that called for an end to the existence of Israel. I found myself feeling to see if my necklace was hanging outside my shirt. I hated having to do that, but context matters and I've had a fair amount of anti-Jewish context -- bullying, threats, job loss and even a punch to the chin once -- to contend with at multiple points in my life. Jews are a very small demographic in Portland, and a positively microscopic demographic in the bicycling scene. Better safe than sorry.

I have run into very occasional comments from other bicycle enthusiasts that let me know where they stood when it came to not only the existence of the state of Israel, but what they thought of various Jewish tropes that run rampant throughout history and our present culture. A surprising number of otherwise reasonable, thoughtful bike enthusiasts believe that Jews run the banks and that they have an inside track on the halls of power in Washington.

Today, I found another comment, this one in a BikePortland.org discussion about the City of Portland's response to the rise in traffic fatalities. They actually compared aggressive street closures to the actions of the IDF (Israeli Defense Force).

I recently attended a lecture on the history of antisemitism in America. It was very interesting and provided me with some food for thought.

Among the notions that the presenter offered was the idea that anti-Zionism is actually a form of antisemitism, or anti-Jewishness, cloaked in fake specificity. The idea is that anti-Zionism is more socially palatable than outright antisemitism -- though in some parts of the world, and of our country, the distinction is being made less often and more people feel emboldened to state their antisemitic views plainly. Anti-Zionism can be -- and is, among those who share the viewpoint --  taken as code for straight-up antisemitism.

To be honest, I still don't know if I can consider myself a Zionist. I wasn't raised in a Jewishly connected or religious family. I love being Jewish, but I don't consider Israel to be my "homeland." A peripatetic childhood invited me to understand my personal Jewish condition as one of wandering -- geographically, emotionally and spiritually -- and the idea of having a place to call "mine" is complex and often difficult to work with. And if I'm being really honest, I feel more connected to Oregon than I do to anyplace else, only because I've lived here for almost fifty years.

Does Oregon feel connected to me? Does the US? Maybe, maybe not. In a time of true crisis, would my friends or neighbors hide me if my life were threatened? On the other hand, I didn't grow up in Jewish community, and even now I still feel some barriers to participation due to geography, finances and my health. I cannot make the same assumptions about my life as an American Jew that many of my Jewish friends can make about their lives. 

It has been difficult to be a Jew on the left, especially since 10-7-23. As a person with progressive values, I am expected to walk in lockstep with my lefty friends who think Israel is committing genocide. When I explain that things are complicated and nuanced, when I ask if my friends who support Palestinian freedom will call out Hamas for their actions on October 7, they have nothing to offer but crickets. They don't want to dive into the complexity.

For me, this is simply another facet of my sense of disconnectivity on multiple counts.

Pursuing other interests and passions -- rudimental drumming, bicycling -- has been a way to give myself little mini-vacations from this disconnectivity. But when questions about Israel and/or Jewishness arise in these other spheres, I honestly don't know how to respond. I feel marginalized and isolated from both sides.

So I make sure that my star of David necklace hasn't fallen outside my shirt when I go out.
That's not cowardice, it's self-preservation.