Where Do Jews Fit in DEI Conversations?
As a feminist, I learned a long time ago that the personal is political, so I’ll begin by locating myself in this conversation. I converted to Orthodox Judaism in the 1980s and spent a decade as an observant Jew, deeply involved in Jewish rituals, celebrations, and community life. This decision saved my life, providing structure, community, and intellectual grounding at a very precarious time in my personal journey. Though I am not enmeshed in a Jewish community today, I tend to connect at the soul level and I still have close friends who are traditionally observant Jews.
For many of these friends, antisemitism feels ever-present, lurking just beneath the surface of Western societies and emerging at vulnerable moments. In the current political climate, many feel isolated, misunderstood, and fearful for their safety here as well as for loved ones in Israel. With children and grandchildren facing daily threats, rushing to bomb shelters, or serving in the army, they feel abandoned and blamed by those they feel don’t understand or want to understand. Israeli citizens are at the mercy of the Israeli government (in the same way we are here, not like theocracies) with limited options and survival under constant threat.This layered anxiety—of loss, helplessness, and lack of control—leaves them torn between personal connections and the harsh realities of a relentless conflict.
One friend, whom I’ll call Ruth, has worked in HR for local government in a major U.S. city for over 20 years. As DEI has become a focus in her workplace, she’s raised concerns about antisemitic remarks and assumptions and had them summarily dismissed. She’s kept trying because of her commitment to DEI values which she attributes to her commitment to being a good Jew, upholding Jewish ethics throughout her personal and professional relationships. Recently, when she brought up the issue of antisemitism with her colleague, the DEI chief, she was told, “Your concerns aren’t relevant to DEI discussions. Jews are white and have historically been part of the oppressor class.”
Where does Ruth (or anyone) go from there?
If she thought that DEI was supposed to promote justice for all, that the goal was social harmony, mutual respect, and understanding of different points of view and perspectives, this response from the lead of the effort doesn’t seem aligned. In fact, the DEI Chief just defined Ruth as white (regardless of how Ruth identified and eliminating intersectionality) and summarized the Jewish role in American history from an extremely limited perspective rife with inaccuracies stemming from biases, then shut down the conversation by virtue of her privileged position of power and authority. She essentially told Ruth to shut up: she didn’t and doesn’t count and that she is not welcome to bring her whole self to conversations in DEI spaces.
This is the opposite of what DEI and racial equity work should do. It’s a hypocritical and counterproductive way of proceeding. It upholds a single oversimplified and biased narrative as truth about complex lived reality: it stifles dialogue.
From a Jewish perspective (and by now I hope that you as a reader can substitute “Jew” with any other group identity because the errors of erasure, silencing, interpreting according to one’s own limited knowledge and biases are commonly experienced), the DEI chief’s assessment ignores Jews’ historic role in civil rights advocacy. It erases Jews’ experience of being discriminated against and persecuted. It is likely emotionally triggering in the same way that minimizing the horrors and enduring epigenetic legacy of slavery might be. Many Jews alive today, including Ruth, had relatives who perished in concentration camps less than 100 years ago. All of this and many other dimensions are invisible when Ruth is identified solely as part of a monolithic “white” group.
It’s important to note that the monolithic “white” group is for the most part a fabrication of others who do not consider themselves white. Historically “white” people haven’t considered themselves or been perceived as a single group. Italians, Irish, Poles, Germans, Slavs, and others brought unique immigrant experiences and often faced discrimination themselves. When it comes to Jews, the Jewish community is exceptionally diverse, encompassing many identities and perspectives, spanning ethnic backgrounds and skin colors from Sephardic to Ethiopian to Ashkenazi Jews (12-15 percent of American Jews identify as people of color and the percentage is larger globally) and a spectrum of beliefs—from atheists to Haredi Jews, including those who identify along a broad religious spectrum (Renewal, Reform, Conservative, Egalitarian, Reconstructionist, Modern Orthodox). Jewish political ideologies and economic statuses range widely as well (20 percent of American Jews live in poverty). All of these factors shape the multifaceted Jewish experience, and oversimplifying them erases vital nuances, adopting an outsider’s othering viewpoint, imposing an identity, that risks the very exclusion DEI initiatives strive to overcome. It’s also true that Ruth’s is one person’s experience and not representative of all Jews and that she may make the error of assuming agreement that isn’t there.
That being said, to Ruth and others I’ve spoken with and read about in Jewish and Israeli publications, it feels like the rise of antisemitism globally is being legitimized using the war in Gaza as justification. It seems as if an oversimplified, one-sided Palestinian narrative has become orthodoxy in U.S. DEI spaces — from Black Lives Matter to current claims of genocide and depictions of Israel as a colonizer and apartheid state. For a three-minute window into this perspective watch this video. It also feels like assumptions are made that all Jews and all Israelis are complicit with the actions of the Israeli government. It feels like hate crimes perpetrated against Jews are widely regarded as less problematic than other hate crimes. It feels like no one outside of Ruth’s circle cares how she feels or what she thinks: for safety she must retreat.
Sound familiar? These types of feelings and realizations are what started DEI and racial equity initiatives in the first place. Simultaneously, they are also what MAGA and Trump seized on to gain popularity.
To me, this is sad. And it’s wrong.
DEI, at its core, is about empathy and compassion—about understanding and honoring each group's unique struggles and perspectives, rather than dismissing or erasing them.
It’s time to evolve the conversation. DEI’s transformative potential lies in embracing all voices and reflecting not only diversity in appearance but in lived experiences, in histories, and in intersectional identities. For DEI to be genuinely inclusive, it cannot ignore the complexities that shape each of us. It must not be tied to a single narrative and must strive for building coalitions across differences. It’s about way more than finding common ground, it’s about actually working together to create the equitable, peaceful, sustainable future that will benefit all of us.