On September 2, 2022, the Class of 2026 sat in Lawrence Auditorium for the second day of Class IV orientation. “High school is hard. There will be ups and downs. This community will be here for you throughout your challenges and failures. The most important thing about high school is just to be nice to one another even when you don’t feel like it,” Former Head of Upper School Michael Denning said to us that morning. At the time, I couldn’t understand his point completely or why he was so serious about it.
As I sat in Lawrence that day, the challenges I envisioned for my future self included the normal high school gamut — a few lousy test grades, some social drama, and maybe even a couple of athletic setbacks. My biggest concern was blending in, so I kept some aspects of my true self secret, one of which was the fact that I am Jewish. I was nice to my classmates, but honestly, I did not go out of my way to help them out or stick up for them.
I will say that I don’t remember much about my freshman year, except that it seemed like an extension of middle school, but with 70 more kids. My Jewish identity did not come up, and I spent that year focused on fitting in and finding my social group. It was pretty smooth sailing, actually.
Sophomore year, October 7th happened. As I watched the massacre in Israel unfold on the television in my family room, I was absolutely devastated and terrified for the people I knew there. It wasn’t until I read the American headlines and saw the endless social media posts that failed to condemn, and some that even celebrated, the atrocities that had taken place, that I became scared for myself.
The following week, Kehilla hosted an emergency meeting for Jewish students. This was the first meeting that I attended. The room was filled with almost every Jewish upper schooler, and it was extremely validating and powerful to see that others shared my fear, anger, and grief. As alone as I felt within the entire Nobles community, I did not feel alone in that room. Since then, I’ve continued to use Kehilla to cope with the harsh realities of being Jewish in this era and have been a leader for the past two years.
It might seem counterintuitive, but after October 7th, I decided to stop hiding my identity at Nobles. As a result, I did lose friends. Within the friend groups that I still had, my identity seemed like an elephant in the room at times. It was almost impossible to talk about current events or even seemingly casual things like pop culture without feeling tension. I received loud and clear messages from some of my teachers about where they stood on the issue as well. I lost trust in several adults within the Nobles community. Some people might find it hard to empathize with my experiences because of their own strongly held beliefs. And despite the fact that these people might not want to hear from my fully authentic self, I take Dr. Denning’s message to heart.
At the start of my junior year, an incident took place in one of my classes when discussing the ongoing Israel-Hamas War. As the only Jewish student in that class, I felt I had an obligation to share the other side of the story through my own lived experiences, one of which was my time visiting the aftermath of October 7th in Israel a few months prior. I felt like I was alone on an island: the only person on one side of an argument facing a classroom of people on the other. It was devastating.
One student, someone I was not friends with at the time, showed curiosity about where my experience and perspective came from. That made a significant difference to me in that moment. While this experience was very painful, I felt like I was speaking my truth and being my honest self. Despite the repercussions, I did not regret putting myself on the island and knew that I would have felt much worse about myself had I remained silent.
That day resulted in a hard lesson that hit home: I accepted that having to constantly defend my identity is part of the Jewish experience. Since then, I’ve seen hurtful posts and heard antisemitic comments from my peers, as well as witnessed the swastikas drawn under tables at Nobles. Yet, it hasn’t been only these moments of pain that have defined my Nobles experience, but also the small acts of kindness my peers have shown me during these challenging times.
My Nobles community might not include all 630 students, but I still have a community, even if it is just a few people who show kindness when no one else does. You don’t have to fit in with everybody, as long as you fit in with somebody. And sometimes, you have to be willing to go against the tide, see the people on the island, and try to swim over there with them.
Dr. Denning’s message is so simple. We’ve been told to be kind to one another since preschool. But I am glad that he keeps saying it, because high school, like life, is hard, and just one act of kindness can make all the difference.
