In recent weeks, following the massacre of a reported 1,200 Israeli soldiers and civilians by Hamas, I’ve had numerous people tell me, “you’re on the right side of history.” As someone who works in Diversity, Equity, Inclusion (DEI), I kind of cringe when I hear this. I do not do this work to “be on the right side of history” but to fight injustice.
This comment, also, comes in response to a coordinated and politically motivated smear campaign that has been launched against me, starting with an article in the New York Post and subsequently involving other organizations, including Canary Mission, a propaganda organization that posts defamatory ‘dossiers’ of people they deem anti-Semitic. This campaign has aimed to target me for expressing my support and solidarity with the people of Palestine.
I shouldn’t have to emphasize this, but I am unequivocally against any form of violence, especially when it leads to loss of life. Also, it’s essential to acknowledge the relative safety that I feel every single day as a white, male-presenting individual, even though I don’t strictly identify within the gender binary. My marginalized identities, such as being non-binary, queer, fat, and disabled, often find a degree of protection within the umbrella of my whiteness and my male presentation. While I’ve never felt compelled to resort to violence in combating the systems of oppression that affect me (and honestly all of us) — I recognize that past instances of violence played a role in the struggle for a collective queer liberation — it’s not my place to dictate how marginalized communities, especially communities of color, should resist and oppose these oppressive systems, particularly when such systems have always perpetuated violence and caused harm to those whom they subjugate.
It is crucial to reiterate this. As someone who benefits from the systems of settler colonial white supremacy, I’m not in a position to critique how marginalized groups, specifically communities of color, should choose to resist their ongoing oppression, given the continuous violence wielded by those in power. The Western colonial project maintains its dominance by controlling and manipulating the narrative. When marginalized groups rise against settler or internal colonial imperialist powers, they are unjustly portrayed as deserving of their suppression and or genocide. In fact, Western imperialism created Islamist radical groups like Hamas, Hezbollah, and ISIS, to name a few.
In the New York Post article about me that was published on October 10, 2023, I was falsely portrayed as celebrating the atrocities committed by Hamas. In reality, over the past few weeks, anyone expressing support for Palestine, regardless of their stance on Hamas, has been unfairly labeled as anti-Semitic, anti-Zionist, and anti-Israel by right-wing Western media. Criticizing Israeli government policies or expressing anti-Zionist views is also misconstrued as anti-Semitism. This dangerous oversimplification and frankly, false narrative, has persisted for over a century.
The formative years of my life primed me to genuinely stand up today and advocate for Jewish people and unconditionally condemn systems of anti-Semitism. It is also crucial to acknowledge that even when we have close relationships with marginalized individuals affected by oppressive systems, we can inadvertently cause harm by perpetuating those systems. Israelis and Jewish folks all over the world are hurting. They are scared, they are experiencing heightened anti-Semitism, which has been on the rise most recently in the past five or so years and they are carrying around a lot of generational trauma. Acknowledging that is important and minimizing these facts are not ok.
My relationship with Judaism has evolved over my lifetime. I was aware of only one Jewish family in my school district growing up, and I was fascinated by my friend’s stories about attending Hebrew school and learning how to pray in Hebrew. My deep interest in understanding everything about the Holocaust, or Shoah, had its roots in a seventh-grade field trip to the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C. As an ardent reader, I immersed myself in Holocaust literature, watched numerous films and documentaries, and empathized deeply with the experiences portrayed. This significantly shaped my aversion to violence. It was during this period that I also began to learn more about Israel and its significance from a Protestant Christian perspective. According to the Book of Revelations, the establishment of the State of Israel is tied to the end times, and it is believed that Christians have a duty to protect Israel from external threats that could harm it. I have fond memories of reading the Left Behind series, which my grandfather was also reading at the time, and engaging with him in discussions about the end times and the importance of Israel in those events.
During my undergraduate years at The Ohio State University, I resided in the International House, a diverse multicultural community. It was there that I befriended a Jewish American woman from Pittsburgh. Our friendship allowed me to learn a lot about Jewish religion and Jewish American culture. I frequently attended Shabbat dinners with her on Fridays and participated in Chabad house events, where I met other Jewish students, some of whom were from Israel. During my senior year, I even contemplated converting to Judaism while actively learning Hebrew.
In graduate school at Bowling Green State University, I collaborated closely with Hillel to offer programming and support to Jewish students. I learned a lot about conspiracy theories and anti-Semitic tropes that were regularly used to demonize and generalize the Jewish experience — some that I most likely used or believed growing up. During my time at the SC Johnson Graduate School of Management, I have advocated for students of all religions, including Jewish students, by recognizing and collaborating with the Jewish Business Association to celebrate religious holidays, working with faculty and staff to understand the important dates and significance of various Jewish holidays throughout the year, and ensuring that events with food options included Kosher or Halal choices, in addition to addressing other dietary requirements.
Simultaneously, during my active involvement in learning and embracing Judaism and Jewish culture, I harbored negative biases towards Muslims, Arabs, and individuals from the Middle East. This bias stemmed from my senior year of high school when the tragic events of 9/11 unfolded. Fueled by fear and the incessant propaganda disseminated by the U.S. government and other Western governments, I initially overlooked the Islamophobia and violations of rights against those perceived as Muslim, Arab, Middle Eastern, or West Asian. It wasn’t until I established authentic friendships with people from these communities that I began to unlearn the harm perpetuated by my beliefs and biases.
These relationships, coupled with relationships that I have with some Shoshone people throughout the Great Basin and other Black, Indigenous, and other people of color, initiated my journey of introspection and learning about systems of white supremacy, racism, anti-Blackness, colonialism, and capitalist imperialism. This self-exploration guided me to critically assess everything I have known and been taught while growing up in a predominantly white, Christian, rural Ohio town.
On the morning of October 7, 2023, I woke up and checked my personal and private Instagram account. I encountered a video on the story of a Jewish Israeli friend, which depicted Palestinians breaking down the wall constructed by Israel around Gaza. The subsequent post they shared from @decolonizethisplace resonated with me in that moment, leading me to share it on my story. Also, this shared post was later misrepresented in the New York Post article as something I had written. Throughout the day, I witnessed an overwhelming influx of information online and through Western news media that primarily focused on the Israeli lives lost due to Hamas actions.
Undoubtedly, I felt a deep sorrow for the Israeli lives taken by Hamas, but as someone who understands a great bit about colonialism and the forms it takes, I couldn’t ignore the actions of Israel, which have persisted for decades. During the next few days, my sorrow soon turned to frustration because no one seemed to address the violence and suffering endured by Palestinians under the oppressive policies of the Israeli government. Those who were addressing it were being silenced, shadow banned, and censored. Colonial white supremacist policies have pushed a narrative that forces us to concentrate solely on the lives that appear to benefit from the policies of the occupying power without allowing room for nuanced discussions or criticism of these policies.
Consequently, I tweeted and shared to my Instagram story, ‘F — k your fake outrage at Palestine when you’ve literally been silent about the violence perpetuated by Israel against Palestine every day.’ Regrettably, the New York Post conveniently omitted the rest of my tweet where I said, “my heart goes out to all those innocent lives that are lost as a result of imperialist apartheid policies and action.” I was conveying my empathy for all innocent lives lost, including innocent Israeli lives. Additionally, they neglected to include the screenshots from my stories where I shared the “abject condemnation of the murder and kidnapping of Israelis”.
My stance will always be against colonial capitalist imperialism, regardless of the country employing it. I consistently critique states that use policies to perpetuate violence against human beings. I believe that Jewish people worldwide deserve to feel secure, and Palestinians deserve their freedom. I can simultaneously hold these two truths. #FreePalestine doesn’t negate #StandUpToJewishHate or #StopAntiSemitism, just as #BlackLivesMatter doesn’t negate #StopAsianHate. As a person who has dedicated his life to justice, I can agree that Jewish people deserve the right to self-determination while agreeing that Palestinians deserve that same right.
More recently, when a student at Cornell made vile anti-Semitic posts on a third-party website, threatening violence and harm to the Jewish population at Cornell, I prioritized and centered the very real fears of Jewish people at Cornell and across the United States while still calling for an end to the genocide of Palestinians by Israel. It should not be difficult to show compassion, empathy, and critical thinking to understand when and who should be centered during acts of colonial violence and white supremacy. I can object to the rise in anti-Semitism that is taking place right now, while also trying to hold colonial systems of power accountable.
The New York Post article is not really about my stance on Hamas or anti-Semitism. Rather, it’s a continuation of the far-right’s assault on education and the principles of diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging. I’m not the only Director of a DEI office or higher education administrator who stands in solidarity with the Palestinians and who has been speaking for years about a Free Palestine. Though I will say that since October 7th far too few have publicly stated so because of their fear of the repercussions, like losing their job. Due to my position at an Ivy League institution with high visibility, I became the ideal target for the far-right’s smear campaign. They have been waging a campaign against education and what they term ‘wokeness’ because they are unwilling to confront the realities of the policies they support, rooted in colonial white patriarchy. Teaching critical thinking and encouraging individuals to form their opinions based on facts and empirical evidence should not be a source of fear or resistance unless someone has something to hide.
The comments on the New York Post article and subsequent articles by other far-right news agencies, as well as comments on various social media platforms, have been vile. They either resort to ad hominem attacks on my appearance or wish harm upon me, using pinkwashing tactics. I have received numerous hateful messages and death threats through my social media accounts, as well as my work email and voicemail. Some of these vile people have gone as far as contacting my parents and threatening them. Many are calling for my termination at Cornell. Others attempt to tone-police me, acknowledging agreement with my message but suggesting I should express it differently. Respectability politics and tone-policing are tools of white supremacy.
Ironically, the first story I shared on Instagram on Saturday, the 7th, was a meme depicting a conversation between two people: “I want to hire a Head of DEI but I don’t want an activist. They are too loud and divisive,” as another responds “Ah, got it. You want a diversity mascot and a mouthpiece.” The text below this exchange reads “Moral of the story: DEI practitioners are neither loud nor divisive. You just lack the willingness and emotional maturity to be challenged.”
I am confident that the New York Post and its readers believe that I am incapable of criticizing Israeli government policy while simultaneously fostering a supportive and inclusive environment for Jewish individuals. This same logic is frequently used when centering anti-Blackness in discussions on racism. By emphasizing anti-Blackness within the system of white supremacy, DEI practitioners aren’t neglecting the experiences of other people of color but rather highlighting the anti-Black policies on which the United States was founded. White supremacy and the systems of racism negatively affect everyone, just as Israel’s policies, rooted in colonial capitalist imperialism, harm Israelis as much as Palestinians.
Let me make this very clear: when I critique and question Israel’s policies and express anger at the resulting loss of innocent lives, I am challenging the system of colonial capitalist imperialism, not questioning the right of Jewish individuals to exist or their entitlement to self-determination. To believe otherwise would be acting in bad faith. This situation is akin to the conversations we had in 2020, emphasizing that saying #BlackLivesMatter doesn’t negate the value of other lives.
DEI offices were established to support the most marginalized individuals in higher education, providing assistance to those who have historically been denied access and equitable support to thrive within educational institutions. The nuances of support and who is prioritized are ever-evolving. It matters who feels seen and who doesn’t when colonial and white supremacist violence persists. Many Palestinian, Arab, and Muslim students across the United States feel invisible to their institutions and their government as they witness Israel’s US-backed actions, which have resulted in the deaths of over 10,000 Palestinians, half of those being children, with tens of thousands more injured, since October 7th.
Many of us like to believe that we are on the right side of history as it unfolds. One doesn’t need to look far into the past to comprehend the profound impact of genocide on the world. In the 21st century alone, we’ve witnessed genocide in various regions, including Sri Lanka, Chechnya, Nigeria, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Darfur, China, Myanmar, South Sudan, the Islamic State, Yemen, Ethiopia, Ukraine, and Nagorno-Karabakh (Armenia).
How will history remember you?