On Buying a Magen David Necklace

The value of being visibly Jewish in this moment

So, while I was at the Holocaust Memorial I stopped at the gift shop mostly to see what, besides books, might possibly be on offer at such a shop. I was relieved it was nothing awful. Unlike when we visited The Eagle’s Nest, there were no souvenirs for those who might want to identify themselves as people in support of the wrong side of history. But of course there weren’t. It was mostly a lot of books, some of those rubber bracelets with slogans on them remembering the various dead, educational things for kids, and some Judaica.

One of the pieces of Judaica was a lovely silver Magen David. I don’t usually wear necklaces, and have never worn one that declared my identity in any way (unless you count the piece of rose quartz I wore on a leather cord for a while in my late teenage years, which identified me as someone who might say yes when you asked if I wanted to hear your collection of Grateful Dead bootlegs). But I bought it, and I’ve been wearing it ever since.

In retrospect, I should probably put on makeup before I take selfies.

I can’t fully explain the impulse behind this. We are, in my family, people who work to blend in rather than stand out. But I think it began in an airport lounge on my way here. A visibly Jewish man—probably Hasidic—was sitting in a seat against a wall, with two empty seats beside him. A young couple were joking between themselves, the boy daring the girl to go over and sit by him. “C’mon, it’ll be funny,” he said. “You watch, he’ll have to get up and move.” She looked unsure, but not totally unwilling, and to prevent this I sat in the seat one away from him and put my computer bag between us. But it got me thinking about the difference between Jews who are obviously Jews, and Jews who are not, in public spaces in this moment. And I didn’t want to be part of a potentially hostile crowd when I encountered Jews I don’t know; I wanted to be recognizable as both a friendly face and a “member of the tribe.”

The star isn’t intended as a provocation, then. I’m not challenging antisemites by wearing it, though I imagine that could occasionally be a by-product of it. After all, the man in the airport clearly provoked an unwelcomed response. Rather, I hope it is, if not an invitation to conversation, at least a sign of kinship and solidarity to my fellow Jews who might be feeling alone in a crowded airport lounge, or anywhere, when our paths cross.