Over the past several weeks, I’ve seen the same question asked on Facebook again and again:

“What is it called when people hate you for no reason?”

Every time, I answer: “Antisemitism.”

Every time, I’m met with silence.

Others offer different responses—some vague, some philosophical—but almost never that one word.

Maybe it’s because only 2% of Americans are Jewish. But on my own Facebook feed, the percentage is much higher. Still, no one likes, comments, or engages. Just silence.

And that’s a problem.

Because antisemitism is not theoretical. It’s not just historical. It is here. Now. Rising rapidly.

In the past couple of months: A Jewish governor’s home was set on fire during Passover. A young couple was murdered after leaving a Jewish event. Peaceful Jewish demonstrators were firebombed in the streets.

These are not isolated tragedies. They are part of a pattern—and that pattern is being ignored as thoroughly as my Facebook comments.

Where is the outrage?

Too often, it stops at the borders of the Jewish community. Thankfully, voices like Senator Chuck Schumer’s are breaking through.

“We’re witnessing — unfortunately, in real time — the resurgence of collective blame against the Jewish people,” he warned. “Collective blame is traditionally one of the most nasty, dangerous forms of antisemitism… if we don’t confront it clearly, unequivocally together, we risk opening the door to even darker days.”

I’ve often written about how powerless one person can feel—especially when you’re not famous, not wealthy, not influential. It’s easy to believe your voice doesn’t matter.

But silence is not an option. Not now. Not ever.

As Rabbi Debra Kolodny said, “We need to get to work, because this olam is not going to tikkun itself!”

Tikkun olam—repairing the world—is in our hands.

We can’t afford to wait for the perfect words, the perfect moment, or someone more “qualified” to speak up. The responsibility is ours—yours, mine, all of us who see what’s happening and refuse to look away.

Speak out, even when it feels like no one is listening.

Stand up, even when you’re standing alone.

Because history has shown us where silence leads.

Tikkun olam isn’t abstract. It’s not a slogan. It’s action. It’s choosing courage over comfort. Truth over popularity. Justice over apathy.

The world won’t heal itself. But together—loudly, visibly, and relentlessly—we can help it begin.