The first I knew something had happened was a Jewish friend's social media post, angry white text on a plain black background: "Fuck antisemitism". That got me scrolling to an article about a shooting in Pittsburgh. What made my stomach clench was the photo of the building that popped up on top of the article --- Wait, that place looks familiar. It was the familiarity of seeing it from the sidewalk and from the bus window, so I couldn't really be sure just from the photo. As I skimmed the articles and then went to search maps, some part of my brain was saying Tell me that's not Squirrel Hill… Then I saw it right where I expected, right after the turn to one of the grocery stores closest to my college campus, and my heart sank.
Squirrel Hill is the neighborhood east of Schenley Park and west of Frick Park in Pittsburgh. Carnegie Mellon University, where I went to school, is just north of Schenley Park. The parks are beautiful wooded areas with deep gullies where you can easily forget you're in the middle of a city, perfect for escaping from student stress. The neighborhood is lovely too, one of those older suburbs with smaller lots and classic brick houses. We would often walk through the park and then through the neighborhood to visit the shops along Murray Avenue. Every now and again we would pass a group of men in black jackets and wide-brimmed hats, or what looked like a wedding party with a couple in suit and dress, led by an older gent wearing a prayer shawl. I remember hearing people speaking Yiddish in the aisles of Giant Eagle, and of course there was a traditional bakery down the road too.
I remember these little details with fondness. The unique character of the neighborhood was refreshing, and it was educational to be an outsider for once. Sure, there were a couple of times when I felt out of place, like the time when I was looking for leavened bread during Passover week and it had been relegated to a tiny end shelf in an odd part of the store, but for the most part I remember feeling safe and welcome. My life was enriched by having neighbors who lived out their beliefs in their way and who weren't afraid to be different.
My pain at today's news is nothing compared to the pain and anguish being felt by the victims and their community. It also doesn't compare with the stress of living with the ancient and pervasive threat of antisemitism that every Jew must deal with. Still, I think it is important to remind myself that these attacks affect my life too. If Squirrel Hill ceases to be a place where the Jewish community feels safe and at home, we will all be the poorer for it.
I want to live in a world that is multifaceted and diverse. I want white protestant college students to keep getting lost in a throng of black suit jackets and bearded faces on the sidewalk. I want there to be grocery stores that continue to baffle goyim with the sheer quantity and variety of matzo that they offer once a year. I want to find ways to oppose this violence, and I want to somehow show my Jewish friends and neighbors that they don't face these threats alone.