On December 7th, 2024, I drowned in the downpour of 8,000 people clapping for a speaker whose incendiary words ignited the crowd with a message of intolerance. At that moment, it became painfully clear: the pursuit of genuine understanding and the foundational principles of DEI had been traded away for a polarizing narrative of exclusion and villainization. My necklace with the word “אהבה”—“love”—hung heavy and screaming as the student sitting next to me tucked his Star of David under his shirt. A conference dedicated to uplifting minorities silenced one.
As I processed the intolerance that unfolded at the
People of Color (PoCC) and
Student Diversity Leadership Conferences (SDLC) in Denver, I came to the overwhelming realization that an urge to boycott and call out the
National Association of Independent School (NAIS) would only further polarize us.
When I attended the SDLC in 9th grade, NAIS’ student conference, I saw firsthand the power of meaningful, difficult conversations — of “calling in” rather than “calling out.” I learned that “calling in,” the act of inviting uncomfortable dialogues, is the antidote to polarization. In forcing us to embrace those who we disagree with, we humanize in the face of dehumanization. It’s a direct contrast to what we often see instead: “calling out” – the demonization and shaming of the other to ostracize their voice. Inspired by the conference, my school’s delegation initiated programs to create a scaffolded space for brave conversation, replicating the atmosphere we experienced at SDLC. We invited students to challenge each other and learn to approach different perspectives with clarity, respect, and nuance – to recognize and hold multiple truths.
This year, I flew to Denver dangerously optimistic, believing that no matter what had riddled the past year since October 7th, my experience and reality could and would be acknowledged. I believed that I would be welcome, and SDLC would once again be a space to celebrate my identity, learn from others, and in NAIS’ theme: “uplift each other as we climb.”
Instead, during conversations with other students, the second that I uttered the word “Israel,” the home of my family – a fact of my reality – I was met with immediate hostility. When I shared a part of my identity – my experience as a Jew – I was blamed for the suffering of others.
My experience and reality were thrown aside through the words of speakers who presented a single selected narrative as an entire reality, denying my lived experience, and the existence of something more than their story; Suzanne Barakat and Ruha Benjamin stripped me of my humanity.
Dr. Suzanne Barakat, a physician and activist on issues of social justice was this year’s PoCC keynote speaker. In a speech to educators from 1,300 of the nation’s top independent schools, she described Israel as “founded on ethnocentric superiority and an inherently systemically racist framework,” a statement steeped in intolerance and a blatant contortion of history. She referred to Zionism as a “strain,” likening the Jewish State to a disease. The comparison of Jewish people and culture to the unclean, parasitic, or virulent is a deeply offensive and recurring trope in the history of antisemitism. Her rhetoric completely ignored the historical and indigenous connection of the Jewish people to the land of Israel, an omission that is not only misleading but also ironic. The term “Palestina” itself was historically imposed by the Romans to erase the Jewish identity of Judea, highlighting the long-standing attempts to deny Jewish indigeneity. Such remarks perpetuate hate and intolerance, contributing to the vilification of Jewish identity and the erasure of Jewish history.
Dr. Ruha Benjamin, a Princeton professor who is currently under
investigation for her anti-Israel activism, was the final speaker for both PoCC and SDLC. In her speech, she described Gaza “before and after the genocide,” and called for the dismantling of institutions of oppression for a “liberatory future.” She alluded to Israelis – Jews – as genocidal, and portrayed them as immoral beings, who ethnic cleanse, and “annihilate an entire people.” She implied that Israelis lack humanity, that they are individuals who do not believe in the “seemingly radical notion that all life is sacred.” These statements dehumanize the Jewish people, distort reality, and fuel antisemitism and narratives of hate and division.
I was ready to confront difficult realities, engage in challenging spaces, and honor the diverse experiences of others, but instead, I was denied an identity; my story was erased.
This year at NAIS’ People of Color and Student Diversity Leadership Conferences, I faced clear, evident antisemitism. The conference vilified those who shared a different experience and who carried different identities, then denied them a chance to speak and be heard. NAIS invited speakers who preached dehumanization, isolation and hate to 8,000 educators and their students. How are we supposed to climb – to grow, if we step on others on our way up? How are we supposed to face our challenges head-on, and seek diversity, equity, and inclusion, while preaching a single narrative, invalidating each other’s experiences, and demonizing people’s identities?
Three years ago, SDLC taught me to value, understand, and empower others to make their voices heard. I learned the importance of diversity, equity, and inclusion: the power that lies within the act of listening – of having difficult conversations, of embracing discomfort in the hope, the mission of understanding one another. SDLC, three years ago you equipped me with the tools to call in those who silence, to reject the narrative of a single story, to make noise in the face of unfairness. Three years ago you taught me. This year, you betrayed me. Now I am calling you in. We need more than a single apology; we need a return to NAIS’ mission – to the very values of DEI – to true dialogue.