OPINION
Things my daughter and I message each other about: which of us was visited by the most adorable tiny goblin on Halloween; a video of a baby sloth being reunited with its mother (flurry of uncontrollable-weeping emojis); the latest bad news on Jew hatred. Such is the world in which we find ourselves.
Our communications took a dispiriting turn because the daughter is part of a weekly podcast called Talking out the Trash. It's meant to be a light-hearted breakdown of the latest entertainment gossip. These days that can mean traversing tricky territory. The topic was Kanye West, the artist now known as Ye. His antisemitic posts on social media have been prompting such weary headlines as "Every antisemitic thing Kanye has said so far." It wasn't just antisemitism. West famously declared slavery "a choice". There was the White Lives Matter T-shirt. Then a tweet, later removed, about planning, when he was less "sleepy", to go "death con 3" on "Jewish People". Jews were blamed for cancel culture. He cycled through tropes about Jews and money, Jews and Hollywood. When West's ex, Kim Kardashian, revealed she'd had sex in front of a fireplace with her then-boyfriend, Ye blamed … the Jews.
How to have a conversation about that? Even my daughter and I had trouble. Try not to sound angry or defensive, I advised nervously. Women arguing with feeling are still dismissed as "shrill", "bossy" and other words not used about men. People will call you overwrought, I fretted. "I refuse to damp down my feelings when my family was being murdered by people with these same views less than 80 years ago," she texted back. I realised I was teaching her to be afraid. "Don't wear your Star of David necklace when you travel," I always told her. Though, with being visibly Jewish becoming ever more dangerous, I stand by that advice.
Do you talk about these things at all? She and her podmates had a useful discussion, not only about Kanye but about how you have these discussions. Don't platform him further, some say. But when conspiracy theories go unchallenged, bigots are emboldened. A banner saying "Kanye is right about the Jews" gets hung over a Los Angeles freeway by people making Nazi salutes.
Do you stay silent? There are the inevitable claims that the consequences West has faced merely prove that a dark international cabal, taking time out from fashioning Jewish Space Lasers, really are cancelling him.
Why would they bother? He was doing such a good job himself. With all the freedom of speech in the world he kept going until many associates didn't want to be associated with him anymore. The market is entitled to free speech, too. "I can say antisemitic things and Adidas can't drop me. Now what?" West bragged. Adidas dropped him. A classic case of someone storming the limits of tolerance, determined to demonstrate their power. Most people learn to stop doing that in toddlerhood.
I knew how much the whole thing had affected me when Reese Witherspoon posted, "In person. Online. Doesn't matter where. It's hate and it's unacceptable. Completely understand why my Jewish friends/colleagues are frightened for their families." I didn't even cry when she did that 1100-mile solo hike in Wild. Her solidarity brought tears.
My father never got a chance to speak out about what happened to him and his family. He'd be amazed that one day new generations of the family he created against the odds would stand up for him and all those who continue to be hurt by this.
Independent studio, MRC, canned a completed documentary about West. Their excellent statement, in part: "Kanye is a producer and sampler of music. Last week he sampled and remixed a classic tune that has charted for over 3000 years — the lie that Jews are evil and conspire to control the world for their own gain."
People are willing to pay the cost for standing up. That gives hope. And a bit more courage to face what is to come.
NEXT WEEK: Steve Braunias