This essay is part of a new collection of work inspired by the anthology On Being Jewish Now: Reflections of Authors and Advocates. Want to contribute? Instructions here. Subscribe here.
This fall, I embarked on a long-awaited vacation with my mom and my daughter in Italy. In Turin, we toured the old synagogue and learned about the difficult history of the Piedmontese Jewish community. We then headed to Milan for a few days of shopping, sightseeing and pasta. Throughout our travels, I proudly wore my Magen David necklace—as I have done every day since October 7.
After Milan, the next stop on our itinerary was Amsterdam. But on November 8—the day before we were scheduled to fly—I woke to the news of the vicious assaults on Israeli soccer fans. Right on cue, the mainstream press began blaming the Jews—in this case, a small group of aggressive Maccabi Tel Aviv fans. Soccer hooligans across Europe often act unreasonably—but somehow, their mischief doesn’t provoke attacks against innocent fans. The Jews are always held to different standards.
Fearful for our safety, I reached out to our Jewish friends in the Netherlands. They encouraged us to stick to our plans, and told us how the local community had jumped into action—helping the terrified Israeli fans find shelter, arranging trauma counseling and organizing their flights back to Israel. Local Jewish leaders were petitioning the mayor for more police support and stronger enforcement of hate crime laws.
How could this be happening again in Europe? And in the very city where we honor the memory of Anne Frank? My great-grandparents perished in the Shoah; my grandparents fled the Nazis. Do we not learn from history? How could it be that mobs were once again chasing Jews in the streets, demanding to see their passports and even beating them up?
We decided to continue on to Amsterdam, as we had planned. For the first time since October 8, I removed my Magen David. The afternoon we arrived, I made my way to the newly opened Dutch Holocaust Museum and Holocaust Memorial. I learned about how, since World War II, the number of Jews in the Netherlands has plummeted from about 140,000 to under 30,000. It was surreal to read about the historic suffering of the Dutch Jewish community while Israeli soccer fans had been treated in the hospital across town.
On our second day in Amsterdam, we visited our Jewish friends at home, and listened to their harrowing stories. They told us how all of their institutions—their synagogues, their schools—are intensively guarded. They took us to see a Jewish cemetery, which was completely unmarked: no signs at all that it was a Jewish burial site. Almost 80 years after the end of the war, Jews in Amsterdam are still forced to hide their identity.
Since October 7, we have witnessed ugly antisemitism all over the world—including in schools, colleges and city councils in the Bay Area, where I live. Yet I felt relieved to return to California, where I fastened my Magen David back on my neck.
I can’t stop thinking about those days in Amsterdam, and how the cycle of hate continues. In a strange twist of history, my mom was recently granted German citizenship. As a child, I could never have imagined this outcome. Yet Germany seems to be the one place that has truly learned the lessons of the twentieth century, and grasped the dangers of antisemitism. We must stand together as a Jewish community and help the rest of the world understand: Never again means now.
Jennifer Wolfe is an accomplished mission-driven leader with over 20 years of experience in building and scaling organizations. She specializes in strategic communications, content marketing, and forging partnerships for non-profit organizations and education technology companies. She is a leader in the Bay Area Jewish community as the immediate Past President and current board member of the JCRC Bay Area. Jennifer resides in Marin County, California and is a mother of three children.
Instagram: @jenwolfe
This essay is part of a new collection of work inspired by the anthology On Being Jewish Now: Reflections of Authors and Advocates. Want to contribute? Instructions here. Subscribe here.
Jennifer, this beautifully written, heart-rending piece is so hard to read. We are in such dangerous times now, with no leadership to guide us or calm the waters. Just the opposite - they revel in upheaval and chaos. Fasten your safety belt, hold those you love close, keep in touch with greatness, and count the days until the next election.