DURHAM, North Carolina — A little over twenty years ago, I went to a Black–Jewish alliance meeting chaired by a Black man and a White Jewish woman. The Black man later became the mayor of Atlanta. I was excited: it was my first time at a “Black and Jewish” event, and I thought I was finally walking into a space that honored both of my communities.
But very quickly realized that in the conversation, there was no room for someone like me, who is Black and Jewish. The focus was as if the two could not exist in the same person, and no one in my circles was using the term intersectionality at that time. When I asked, “What about Black Jews?” the chairs of the meeting were visibly stymied. I still remember the confused look on their faces and it’s etched in my memory. They had no framework, no language, no plan for including people like me in the conversation. That absence was telling and it stayed with me
And that has continued to be my experience in conversations around Black–Jewish alliances for decades. Too often, they are framed as binary, leaving out the reality that many of us live at the intersection…