After the brutal murder of George Floyd by Minneapolis police, captured on video for the world to see, there was a fleeting moment in 2020 when it seemed the United States might be ready for a reckoning with its racial history. This watershed moment built on the legacy of the Civil Rights Movement and the more recent activism of the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement. It highlighted the enduring systemic racism embedded in American institutions and the urgent need for a transformative reckoning. However, despite widespread protests and an initial wave of momentum, efforts to dismantle racism on a national and global scale continue to face significant challenges. Among these challenges is the consolidation of power, which resists structural changes, and a more insidious element that hinders the efficacy of those committed to racial justice: a hierarchical approach to care.
When societal challenges grow overwhelming, humans often fall back on tribal instincts that prioritize the needs of those closest to them, creating a hierarchy of care. This instinctual behavior can limit not only our ability to dismantle systemic racism but also our capacity to confront other critical challenges effectively. This phenomenon has significant implications for the Jewish community’s engagement with racial justice, especially in moments of crisis.
Many institutions, including those within the Jewish community, took significant steps to confront racism, particularly anti-Black racism, during the 2020 racial justice awakening. Book groups featuring titles like Caste, How to Be an Anti-Racist and White Fragility sprung up. Courses in Racism 101 gained traction, while Jewish organizations created Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Belonging (DEIB) task forces and sought systemic change through consultants. Real progress became visible as Jews of Color were invited to leadership roles, including board memberships and committee positions.
This momentum came to an abrupt halt after the Hamas massacre of Oct. 7, 2023, Israel’s ongoing devastating response in Gaza and the widespread support for Palestinian liberation among progressive social justice organizations in the United States, including many led by people of color. For many European-descent Jews who had engaged with racial justice efforts, there was a profound sense of betrayal. “We showed up for them after George Floyd, and now they’re not showing up for us,” became a common refrain. Yet while some Jews racialized as white retreated from the work of racial justice, many Jews of all backgrounds, committed to long-standing relationships and ideologies, remained engaged.
This essay is a call to the Jewish community to stay steadfast in racial justice transformation, recognizing that doing so is not only a moral imperative but a practical necessity for creating healthy, inclusive communities and living the Jewish mission in its fullest, most powerful form. By analyzing the dynamics at play and proposing actionable solutions, this article argues for a balanced approach that addresses both antisemitism and racism as intertwined oppressions.
For clarity, this article uses the term “White Jews” to refer to Jews in the United States who trace their lineage to Europe and are perceived within the racialized system as white. This does not erase their experiences of antisemitism but acknowledges their societal privileges tied to whiteness. Similarly, “Jews of Color” refers to Jews with non-European heritage who experience racism within both the broader society and Jewish communities.
For Jews of Color, the need to confront racism is self-evident. The persistent microaggressions, lack of trust and questioning of their belonging in Jewish spaces are exhausting and drive some from the community. These experiences, compounded by broader systemic racism affecting health outcomes and access to resources, make dismantling racism a matter of survival. For White Jews, the connection may seem less direct but is no less critical. America’s racial hierarchy — a system assigning value based on identity markers like skin color — renders all minorities vulnerable. Historically, Jews were seen as outsiders and not considered “white” until mid-20th-century societal shifts. This precarious conditional whiteness underscores the shared stakes in uprooting racism.
The backlash against racial justice in the United States and within Jewish communities post-Oct. 7 reflects the dynamics of a “hierarchy of care” — a system that prioritizes some lives and concerns over others. Historically, such hierarchies have perpetuated racial domination by concentrating resources among dominant groups. For example, intergenerational wealth transfer among white families has widened the racial wealth gap, a legacy of discriminatory policies in housing, education and lending.
The events following Oct. 7 exacerbated the retreat from racial justice in the Jewish community. Social justice organizations, particularly those led by people of color, issued critiques of Israel’s actions in Gaza that many Jews experienced as antisemitic. In response, some White Jews shifted focus inward, redirecting resources from DEIB efforts to combating antisemitism and supporting Israel. While addressing rising antisemitism is crucial, the pullback from supporting social and racial justice risks reinforcing the isolation of Jews as the “other,” and neglects the interconnected nature of antisemitism and racism.
This pullback harms the Jewish community on multiple fronts. First, it alienates Jews of Color, who experience racism within Jewish spaces and feel unsupported in broader racial justice struggles. Second, it undermines efforts to build coalitions essential for dismantling systemic oppressions. Only by addressing antisemitism and racism together can we ensure a more secure and equitable future for all Jews. We call this approach “Dismantling Racism from the Inside Out.” It is based on the integration of a Balance of Care and the Jewish spiritual discipline of applied Jewish ethics, or Mussar.
Adapted from Sikh civil rights lawyer and activist, Valerie Kaur’s Revolutionary Love framework, the Balance of Care challenges the hierarchy of care by inviting us to create a dynamic balance of care for self, fellows targeted by racism, opponents to one’s racial justice commitments and a connection to the HaShem/The Sacred. We use the term “care” instead of “love” to emphasize that challenging habitual hierarchies of care takes concrete action and not just emotion and intention.
Let’s be clear: the Balance of Care framework does not advocate for equality but rather equity. To bring the care of those targeted in oppressive systems into balance, it will often be necessary to place more emphasis on a particular domain of care for a set amount of time. This dynamic approach ensures that marginalized communities receive the focused attention required to achieve balance with others. For example, if unbalanced scales reflect the racist hierarchies within the United States, placing the same weight on both sides will not bring the scale into balance. Instead, we must temporarily place more weight on the disadvantaged side to achieve equilibrium.
This dynamic nature of the Balance of Care extends to notions of intersectionality —compounded experiences of oppression from intersecting targeted identities like being Jewish AND being a person of color or being a woman AND targeted by anti-Blackness — and positionality, meaning the shifting proximity to power depending on the social makeup of one’s surroundings. In the racialized context of the United States, for instance, Black men often need to prioritize care for self as societal structures push individuals targeted by anti-Blackness to neglect their needs in favor of serving white people and whiteness. Conversely, in a majority-Black country, Black men might need to focus their energies more on care for others given the potential power they wield as men in that context.
Similarly, during heightened antisemitism within the United States, more care must be directed toward those targeted by anti-Jewish oppression. The key is ensuring that this care never comes at the expense of others’ harm. In any particular context that disadvantages certain members of our community, more energy and concrete care must be invested in those individuals to achieve balance with everyone else. This principle encapsulates what it means to be in balance.
The Balance of Care framework informs the Dismantling Racism from the Inside Out hypothesis: by engaging in concrete acts of care for ourselves, fellows targeted by racism and even opponents — actualized and sustained through connection to HaShem/The Sacred — we not only resist but also confront, subvert and heal the racist ideologies and behaviors internalized within ourselves and others. This approach makes us more effective in our anti-racist work and transforms our relationships with power.
We draw on the Jewish discipline of Mussar, applied Jewish ethics, as the spiritual technology most suited to support concrete acts of care. Mussar is a 1,000-year-old Jewish wisdom tradition that emphasizes spiritual growth and character development through action, helping the heart feel what the head already knows. Using a framework of character traits, Mussar challenges us to break out of habitual behavior and raise our awareness of live choices we have in the moment. These “choice points” become leverage points in our spiritual growth and antiracist behavior.
Anavah is a key Mussar soul trait, and its application will help illustrate the balance of care. Often translated as “humility,” Anavah is a nuanced trait that calls on us to be “right-sized” for any situation and involves both taking and ceding space as needed. The Hebrew root for Anavah is related to the root for “response” evoking a sense of right-response to external stimuli. This trait has obvious application to dismantling anti-black racism. A Black person will often need to take more space in predominantly white environments than feels comfortable in order to counter the habit-forming racist messages pervasive in the culture that Black people should be deferential to White people and need to be extra-careful about what they say. A White person will often need to take less space than feels comfortable in a mixed-race environment to counter the habit-forming racist messages that White people are smarter than Black people and more deserving of leadership. This is just one of many examples where practicing being “right-sized” for an environment can be an antiracist practice that challenges rote racist messaging and mutual responsibility.
Consider the example of Charter House, a Black-led housing advocacy organization, and Bayit, a Jewish community-based affordable housing nonprofit. Following Oct. 7, the CEO of Charter House issued a statement condemning Israel’s actions in Gaza, which many at Bayit found offensive and antisemitic. Some members of Bayit wanted to sever ties with Charter House, while local Jewish funders threatened to withdraw support. How might the Balance of Care framework and the Mussar practice of Anavah guide a different response?
Care for Self: Bayit’s leaders and members needed space to process their hurt and fear, address antisemitism, and ensure the safety and inclusion of their community. Taking this space would be an appropriate application of Anavah for a community experience harm. For Jews of Color within Bayit, this meant navigating the dual challenges of antisemitism and racism with additional care, taking the space they need to their well-being.
Care for Fellows Targeted by Racism: Recognizing the ongoing impacts of systemic racism, Bayit’s commitment to, or giving space to, housing justice remained paramount. Advocacy for continued funding to Charter House and engagement in constructive dialogue signaled solidarity.
Care for Opponents: Within Bayit, disagreements about the CEO’s statement required open communication and acts of repair, or taking and ceding space with each other in the delicate work of listening to and acknowledging each other’s grievances and feelings of harm. With Charter House, it meant ceding space and listening to grievances about Gaza while taking space and addressing concerns about antisemitism. This Anavah and balance fostered coalition resilience, even amid tension.
Supporting these actions is a fourth domain: Connection with the Sacred. Whether through a direct relationship with God, trust in a redemptive force or belief in a Higher Power, grounding in something larger than oneself enables the emotional and spiritual fortitude needed for sustained change. Tapping into this connection helps individuals and communities develop new, antiracist habits while remaining steadfast in their commitments.
The Jewish community’s response to the intertwined challenges of antisemitism and racism must transcend reactive impulses. By embracing a Balance of Care and leveraging spiritual practices like Mussar, we can dismantle entrenched hierarchies and foster inclusive, resilient communities. This commitment is not only a moral obligation but a practical necessity for ensuring the safety and flourishing of all Jews and our broader society.
