I am a 21-year-old white, straight, Jewish male. I literally have all the cards. Why can’t I sit back and let the world pass by as I remain blissfully ignorant? Maybe it’s something genetic. My white mother was denied service at a Woolworths growing up because they thought she was black. My white father was the first in his family to graduate college. My brother lived in Ethiopia. My paternal grandfather worked with Native Americans and my uncle is a communist.

It’s 1:30 am and I can’t think about sleep. My heart is racing, my eyes leaking and my heart is as heavy as lead. How was I able to be tricked so easily? How did I not see past their lies? Growing up I proudly work my IDF shirt. I had three, plus two real uniforms. It was perfect. Israel was perfect, the underdog, the victim. Supporting Israel was my Judaism, not to mention an all access pass to swanky affairs, senate offices and job offers for after college. I know my hands are stained red. I lobbied for an “unbreakable US-Israel relationship.” What the fuck does that even mean? How could I have been so stupid?

That was then, this is now. I know different. I know Israel has committed and continues to commit war crimes. Palestinians did not willfully leave their homes in 1948. Israel armed apartheid South Africa. Israel is not the hapless victim of Sunday school lies. The rockets falling in Israel are disruptive, threatening and overblown. How many people have been killed? Too many. People claim that over 12,000 rockets have been fired since 2009. The real number, according to the Israeli government, is closer to 1,400.

Orthodox Jews find comfort in psalms and in prayer. Maybe it’s because it enables them to feel like they are doing something without engaging in real issues, without “praying with their feet.” A facebook event was made promoting an event at our Hillel, an event of saying psalms for Israel. When I asked if there would be a space to say psalms for Palestinians I was given an emphatic “nope” from the president of the Orthodox community on campus; he said it was too political. This is all political. War is political, death is political and the refusal to pray for all of G-d’s creatures is political, and an abomination of the tenants of Judaism.

I find comfort in the company of liberal and like-minded friends. There are about 10 of us on campus. We know of others, but they are afraid to come out. I don’t blame them; I used to be afraid too. I have been yelled at, called Hitler and receive frequent stares when walking into a minyan. I pretend not to care, but there is the persistent, gnawing question of “what if they’re right?” I find it harder and harder to identity with the more observant community, this community that promotes apartheid like policies, will not pray for Palestinians, and deems anybody who thinks otherwise an anti-Semite. I wear a Kippah and have only worked for Jewish organizations. I keep strict kosher ad observe Shabbat. An Israeli flag hands from my wall. My middle name is Lev. I am lactose-intolerant. How could I be more Jewish? I will not let my truth succumb to their relentless attacks and hatred. No, I will wear their hurled insults as a badge of honor and grow stronger.