For me, being AfroAmerican/Black and Jewish means persistently, boldly, and unapologetically pushing back and forcing visibility in spaces where we’ve been invisible. It also means a conscious, strategic, and purposeful disrupting of what people think it means to be a Jew. Judaism has informed my activism, and tikkun olam as praxis has become a strategic form of resistance, agency, and survival. In order to be “accepted” and invited to the table, I am silently asked to turn away from who I am and to craft a new identity that aligns more with White Jewry. My AfroAmerican/Black Jewishness is disruptive because it will not be denied, but disrupting what it means to be Jewish is also a form of both healing and survival. I can’t comprehend my Jewishness as separate from my blackness, and embracing this intersectionality alone is a form of resistance.
Employment: Amazon HR supporting manager engagement; activist, writer, thinker, lover, and warrior woman
Neighborhood: West Seattle