Guest Opinion: Keeping light alive in a world of darkness as Hanukkah begins

Hanukkah comes early this year. As one of those uber-careful, COVID-conscious families with a pretty lean social calendar these days, holidays have provided an outlet to share joy, and have given my four kids something fun to look forward to. The Festival of Lights, with its crispy latkes, spinning dreidels, melodic music and eight nights of gift-giving, is a household favorite. When the restless natives discovered months ago that Hanukkah wasn't waiting until December, they didn't want to either. Thus, the planning began in our little socially distanced corner of the world, nestled in the rolling hills of Bucks County. Lists were made for Hanukkah Harry, decoration bins were pulled from dusty corners of the basement, and anticipation grew. Little did I know that the dark cloud of antisemitism would be casting a shadow on our early holiday happiness.

I'll admit, even I was anxiously awaiting Night 1! After a stressful start to the school year, and chronic worrying about the state of the world, a little Hanukkah light (not to mention chocolate gelt and homemade sufganiyot) would be just the dose of magic that my weary soul needed. In the spirit of the season, my 5-year-old began her persistent plea to start putting up decorations so I finally gave in this past week. We turned up the Hanukkah playlist and pushed aside the Halloween candy bowl on the dining room table to make way for our collection of holiday tsatskes and shimmering blue trimmings.

In an oddly simultaneous turn of events, while we blissfully unearthed Judaica and sparkly lights, I began learning from friends and neighbors via phone and social media about some disturbing events unfolding at our local school board meeting. This was the next in a regular series of monthly meetings that many parents (myself included) had not been attending. Despite growing worries about the state of the school district, COVID concerns and increasing political unrest in the community had sadly caused fear to govern our choices.

What began on Nov. 9 as a typical Central Bucks School District board meeting, quickly deteriorated when two men led a hateful charge of rhetoric during the public comment segment, goaded on by an applauding crowd. One man began his rant discussing the destruction of our educational system and nation as a result of diversity, equity and inclusion reforms. He continued a vulgar attempt to prove his points using graphic transphobic tropes specifically targeted toward transgender youth.

The second speaker was a local conspiracy theorist using his hate website as a proof in making allegations of widespread ties to the mafia in our Jewish community. He warned the crowded room that, "It's time to stand up to Zionism and communism in these communities,” again drawing a false and negative connection between these unfounded accusations and diversity programs in schools. To make matters worse, a few brave bystanders attempted to shut down the madness, but were silenced and escorted out by authorities citing the Second Amendment. And those leading the meeting — decision-makers elected to support and do right by our children — stood idly by rather than condemning this hate speech for what it was.

Suddenly, back in my kitchen surrounded by dreidels and wide-eyed delight, my festive mood turned to melancholy. My mind began to race deciphering messages that revealed how fellow Jews and parents had been mistreated. I went through the mental checklist of ways this could personally impact our family’s safety and the sanctity of our Jewish community. Thoughts and images were swirling, my was phone buzzing, and the room was almost spinning as Barenaked Ladies belted out their rendition of Hanukkah Blessings.

Then my eyes fixed on the little girl across the room, tangled in silver tinsel and shrouded in innocent whimsy as she carefully unfolded tissue paper covering the handmade menorah we received on our wedding day. All at once, time stood still, and tears filled my eyes. For this precious child, her Jewishness is a special gift that blesses her with happiness and enriches her life. She has no idea there are people out there who hate her for that, and that alone. She is blind to the evil of the world for now, and it is my job to protect her from it.

I left that room, taking a moment to release my tears so they couldn’t rain on the magical light surrounding her. In that moment, I decided that despite the fear in my mind and heart, I would never let that light go out. Her light, the light of our tribe, must be protected at all costs. While others may try to extinguish it, and it may dim, it will always remain aglow as long as we stick together and speak up, as a family and a community. The Maccabees never cowered in the face of tyranny or hatred, and neither will we. We will do our part, work hard, have faith, believe in miracles, and always keep our light alive.

Cyndi Cohen lives in Doylestown, where she's working hard to make love, compassion, Jewish culture and humor central to her four children's lives and upbringing.

This article originally appeared on Bucks County Courier Times: Keeping light alive in a world of darkness as Hanukkah begins