I’ve written about the fact that I am Jewish but not religious here.
I’ve also written about my trip to Israel this past summer — here and here.
The trip prompted no more religious belief in me than before I visited, but certainly prompted more pride in my heritage. Not because I think I am better. Not because I think Jews are better. Not as in pride goeth before the fall. Not that kind of pride.
This is not religious supremacy. Or ethnosupremacy.
It is simply because I am. I am Jewish. And I am proud of that.
In the same way that gay pride is celebrated. Or like how women are celebrated with You Go Girl/Women are badass! style feminism. (This is not my favorite — I dislike the tagline-ready commercialization of feminism or any movement for equality, really.) I am also proud to be a woman. Because I am one. It is who I am.
Like that. Not better. As good. Worthy. Enough.
And as I bear witness to acts of antisemitism and blatant hatred of Jews around the world, I am reminded, once again, that:
I may not be religious, but I am Jewish.
I may not have been bat mitzvahed, but I am Jewish.
I may not speak or even read Hebrew, but I am Jewish.
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