The Chronicles of a Non-Jew

I remember when I was a younger lad, I read this book by Howard Jacobson, The Finkler Question, and I remember being exposed to the word “Jew” and was, for the first time in my life, thought of the Israel-Palestine fuck-up that grabs the headlines once every four years and throws the world into a huge tizzy about who is “right” and who is “wrong”. Frankly, the entire fuck-up that the Issue of Palestine is, holds no interest for me. I couldn’t be less bothered by the opinions of people in high chairs and comfortable offices. I don’t value the arguments of people thousands of miles from the conflict.

What I value is the unnecessary profiling and hatred that spills into countries around the world every time a Gaza Conflict surfaces. People yell anti-Semitic slurs at other people who have nothing to do with the foreign or domestic policy of Israel, and people go out into the streets beating up any Arab looking man for “looking like a person who sends rockets in the air”. What?

Mistaken as I am for being a Jew, I feel the conflict’s arms reaching into the psyche of the masses. Just the other day, someone yelled “You fucking Jews will burn in hell” at me from across the street, to which I promptly replied “Which Jew, they were burnt a long time ago” and stuck a middle finger at the yelling crowd. I fail to understand the logic of the situation, and I fail to understand both my reply and the comment initially made. Hell doesn’t exist (unless you count the company of my ex) and what is to be gained by yelling about the Holocaust? The Holocaust already happened, 6 million Jews were killed, and yet, years later, Anti-Semitism exists and random people are harassed for looking like Jews.

I insist on using the term “Non-Jew”, because I am not Jewish, and neither am I significantly part of any other identity. Thankfully, my biracial heritage, encased in the pride that I have for my own nation as  a whole, keep me from developing a cast-iron box for myself. I refuse to consign myself to a box, and to tie my hands down thinking “I am so and so”. I use the term “Non-Jew” in light of the fact that since I am mistaken for being Jewish, I might  as well type under a Jewish name, but talk from the perspective of a cloaked observer.



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