We are living in uncertain times, with the rise of antisemitism and the normalization of things that were once universally condemned. Swastikas in Jewish neighborhoods, on trains, in parks, even in the snow, have become routine.

Just last night, a driver intentionally rammed his car into Chabad Headquarters in my neighborhood in Brooklyn. While the motive remains under investigation, the incident underscores the very real dangers facing Jewish communities across the country.

My 4-year-old brings home a two-page class newsletter each week with highlights tied to the Torah, holidays, songs, and things that happened in school. The teacher also asks each child a question and prints all their answers.

Last week: “What’s something noisy in your house?” The plague of frogs was noisy.

This week: “What’s a treasure or something special in your home?” Most students said jewelry, toys, or coins.

Passport issued by Raoul Wallenberg to protect Jews during WW2.
Passport issued by Raoul Wallenberg to protect Jews during WW2. (credit: NATE D. SANDERS AUCTIONS)

My daughter Sarah answered, “Passports.”

Friday night, reading the newsletter at the Sabbath table, I asked her why.

She said, “Because we keep them hidden in the safe, and they let us travel if we ever have to leave.”

When Jewish children learn preparedness before innocence

Sarah is only four and has no idea how true her words are. Her mother’s grandparents didn’t have passports after World War Two and were stateless for years. My grandmother and her siblings escaped Berlin largely because they had the papers necessary to leave and got out in time.

Recently, we made passports for each of our kids, even our 7-month-old, at my wife’s urging. We decided it was something every child should have, just in case.

This generation prides itself on not cowering or being afraid. Jews should stand tall and proud. But strength doesn’t mean naiveté. It means being prepared, able to defend yourself, and also able to leave if you ever have to.

History taught us that antisemitism is deeply rooted in society and never fully disappears. In the past, the strategy supported by major Jewish organizations and leaders was to meet with community leadership and hope that change would trickle down. If the leaders got along, everyone would.

Today, the challenge is different. Much of the hate isn’t coming from leaders. It’s coming from young voices on social media. Everyone has a megaphone. Anyone can spread poison in seconds.

Just days after influencers in a Miami Beach nightclub were filmed singing the Y song “Heil Hitler,” a video that quickly went viral, more than 65 swastikas were painted over two nights in a children’s park in heavily Jewish Borough Park. I have no evidence that the two incidents are directly connected, but it’s hard to ignore the timing. At the very least, the influencers are normalizing and celebrating this kind of behavior.

A new strategy is clearly needed. Simply shouting “antisemitism” isn’t enough. It may generate clicks or fundraising emails, but it doesn’t change minds.

We should continue meeting people and building bridges, but much of this fight now starts closer to home. The real responsibility begins with parents and educators. Children need the tools to recognize hate and refuse to fall prey to it.

No organization can replace the role of parents and teachers. If they don’t step up, we risk raising a generation in a more dangerous and hateful America.

In the meantime, preparedness can look as simple as what my 4-year-old already understands: “Passports.”

The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of JTA or its parent company, 70 Faces Media.