As a psychologist who specializes in adolescents and eating disorders, I have been sounding the alarm about adolescent mental health for years. So I was not surprised that after the October 7 attacks and the rise of anti-Semitism in the United States, I became concerned about young people in middle and high schools and on college campuses. But as I listened and observed the challenges and traumas adults were experiencing, I found myself caring for Jewish adults in ways I never expected.
My observations about Jewish mental health are based on my own experiences as a parent, clinician, and human being. I have listened and reflected in clinical settings, professional spaces, parenting settings, religious and spiritual spaces, and social settings. I am informed by both personal and community experiences, but also by the larger environment across the United States as reflected in virtual spaces.
First and foremost, Jewish adults feel unsafe, both psychologically and physically. Jews do not feel safe to be who they are, to think what they think, to feel what they feel, and to carry out daily activities without risk. Additionally, there are real fears of what will happen in our communities, on our campuses, and in our country, how far this will go, who we can trust, and whether the people we love and care about will also be safe. there is. It is further amplified by fear for the safety and security within and of the State of Israel, and for the presence of Jews around the world. This fear resonates deep in our psyches and genes because we inherit generations of trauma, violence, displacement, and survival.
The rules of the game seem to have changed for Jewish Americans, and this happened suddenly and in significant ways without our awareness or consent. Grief and loss are paramount because the ground beneath us has shifted. Anger, confusion, betrayal, despair, disagreement, and sadness eat away at our spirits. Jewish adults feel powerless, dehumanized, invalidated, misunderstood, threatened, and exhausted, and we are scared. We have experienced individual and collective traumas large and small, which activate deep layers of generational trauma wounds.
I do not pretend to have answers here about how to solve this political, social, and humanitarian crisis. But as a human being, a Jew, and a psychologist, I can and will continue to witness and testify to Jewish emotions and experiences. I reach out to others, ask how they’re doing, and listen to what they’re sharing. I also ask for help when I need someone to hold my space. I choose to be curious, empathetic, and non-judgmental, and strive to stand up for the truth.
i always choose tikun olam No matter how big or small, I can do it in any way I can. I have empathy and compassion for all suffering on all sides of this issue. I have and will continue to choose my actions. I have written more letters to school leaders and government officials in the past five months than I have ever written in my entire life. I am also learning new techniques to help people experiencing trauma. I choose education and hope again and again. I will show my children that they can speak up, be courageous, and act with pride. I make these choices because these are the values of my heritage and the principles that guide me.
I am taking care of myself as much as I would take care of others and trying to get through this very difficult time. I hope you are too.
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