It is no secret that the past year has been difficult for Jews as rising incidents of antisemitism plague cities and communities. Now more than ever before, finding a place that celebrates Judaism is so important in order to foster spirituality and pride in one’s Jewish identity.
The University of Maryland is fortunate enough to have this type of community; the large and enthusiastic Jewish population allows for students to practice their religion and express their identity without shame or fear of retaliation. However, not all colleges across the United States are the same way. Other Jewish freshmen around the country are forced to adjust to a different, and often less welcoming, college community.
Chase Abrams is an 18-year-old college freshman attending the University of Rhode Island. Like Maryland, the University of Rhode Island is a large state school that attracts a wide variety of students from different cultural backgrounds. However, out of the 16,000 undergraduates attending, only 900 are Jewish– 7% of the student body. As a result, Abrams attests that, “It can be difficult to engage with the Jewish community on campus. If I didn’t follow the URI Hillel account, I doubt I would be exposed at all.”
Not being involved in the Jewish community is new for him, as Abrams was an active member in his hometown synagogue’s youth group.
“At home, I went to temple twice a week– I played an active role in organizing programs for younger kids. I always found it meaningful to be part of the Jewish community,” Abrams shares.
Additionally, Abrams notes that while his hometown did not have many Jews, his friend group was largely Jewish. At the University of Rhode Island, however, he says, “I only have one or two Jewish friends here. It’s definitely an adjustment, but it is comforting to know I have at least one person who understands what it’s like.”
Overall, Abrams affirms that while University of Rhode Island may not be the flush Jewish community he originally wanted in his college search, he remains proud of his identity.
“I will proudly tell people I am Jewish here–it’s something I love about myself.” He also notes that he feels fortunate to have such a large Jewish community outside of university.
“I’m thankful for all the friends and family in my hometown and at camp that make me comfortable in my identity. If I didn’t have them, I doubt I would have as much pride in my Judaism as I do.”
While Abrams overall experience was a positive adjustment, not everyone is so lucky. Zephyr Weinrich is a freshman at Swarthmore College, and finding his Jewish community as a Reconstructionist Jew hasn’t been as easy as he would have liked. Swarthmore has 1,600 undergraduates and is 7% Jewish – meaning there are only around 110 Jewish students on campus.
Weinrich attended Jewish day school and was a member of a Jewish youth group for most of high school. During his college search, Jewish population wasn’t his top concern, but he was hoping to find a school that allowed him to practice the way he wanted.
“I’m not the most religious,” he says. “But I really enjoy the communal and spiritual aspects of Jewish life and would’ve liked to have them on campus.”
Weinrich found a few Jewish students in his classes who he began spending time with. “They remind me of my Jewish community members at home, and I really enjoy spending time with them.” But it hasn’t been easy for Weinrich outside of this select group. While Swarthmore has two committed Jewish groups on campus, Weinrich has struggled to find somewhere he feels like he does at home.
“They don’t necessarily feel like my people and I am not very comfortable at either group’s meetings,” he explains.
From the beginning of this past spring, Weinrich has been uneasy about his college commitment. Although he didn’t mind the small Jewish contingent when he committed, Weinrich says, “concerns about antisemitism in recent months almost caused me to withdraw my enrollment before move-in.” Swarthmore had incidents of antisemitic rhetoric, starting from a list of boycott and divestment demands made by their SJP on Oct. 30 until the end of the spring term last year. There was an on campus encampment, walkouts, teach-ins and even professor involvement in one case, according to the Anti-Defamation League.
Weinrich didn’t know what to expect when getting to campus this fall. “There haven’t been any problems for me so far, but I can’t help but feel on guard most of the time,” he says. The culture at Swarthmore invites student expression, which initially drew Weinrich in, but he now worries that expression “makes me feel unsafe in the place I’ve chosen to call home.”
Weinrich remains optimistic that his thoughts of withdrawing will remain a fantasy, but he has started researching other schools that he could attend next fall.
Across the border, Jewish students in Montreal face a slightly different set of challenges. Cara Jurenko is an 18-year-old freshman at McGill University who has settled in seamlessly. Jurenko is a Reform Jew who came from a very heavily Jewish neighborhood: Park Slope, New York.
Upon her arrival at McGill, she made two close friends who were also Reform Jews from New York. “I was thrilled to find people immediately who fit my Jewish practices,” expresses Jurenko. Jurenko doesn’t practice much at all, and most of her Jewish identity comes from being very in tune with her community.
“I know all the restaurants, summer camps, and get the cultural references,” Jurenko says.
Jurenko has faced issues in focusing on the cultural aspect of religion. “I have thought about going to high holiday services, and I joined a challah baking club,” says Jurenko. Her background with being a Jew isn’t about going to Shabbat every week, and recently Jurenko has found it challenging to meet more Jewish students without changing her habits.
“For me, finding activities that just focus on bringing Jewish students together, and not on religious practice has been fairly difficult,” Jurenko shares.
McGill has a student body of about 40,000 students, and they have a 5.3% Jewish student body, with 2,100 Jewish students between their undergrad and graduate programs. Jurenko has found a place with other Jewish students, but her experience isn’t representative of all the Jewish kids at McGill.
“Many of my friends, and sometimes even me, feel uncomfortable being around the French students,” Jurenko says.
The anti semitic culture in French Montreal is much livelier than what Jurenko and other American students are used to.
“Out at restaurants and even in classes, there is a sense of French students not truly understanding us and why we would be around their community,” Jurenko says. While Jurenko has not faced any direct comments, two of her friends were approached by French students, and questioned on their Judaism earlier this term.
Above all, there was one moment of antisemitism at McGill that stuck out to Jurenko. On Sept. 20, someone defaced the library with a swastika and the words: “hail satan LOL.” Jurenko had grown accustomed to language and expression like this, having grown up in New York City.
“Some of my other Jewish friends were shocked though, because they were from heavily Jewish areas where no one could ever think of something like this,” Jurenko says.
McGill responded immediately with an email and assured consequences for any involved individuals. The situation still hasn’t been resolved, which unsettles the Jewish community. Jurenko believes that McGill will take the right action if they find the guilty person, but she was hoping that incidents like this wouldn’t follow her from New York City to Montreal.
“I have had an amazing time here, and I just now know that I have to be a little more careful because this is French Canada, and not my Jewish bubble in New York,” Jurenko says.
Students in southern regions of the United States additionally face challenges affecting their Jewish identities. Georgia Waltzman is a college freshman attending North Carolina State University, one of North Carolina’s major public universities. Waltzman herself is from New England, providing an extra layer of culture shock when she moved down the coast.
“There is a large assumption here that you are Catholic, Southern, and conservative. As an out-of-state Jew from the North, I sometimes feel like I couldn’t be more different,” Waltzman shares, noting the adjustment she felt.
Out of the 26,000 students at North Carolina State University, about 1.5% are Jewish. That equates to only 400 students at the undergraduate level. This, combined with the cultural norms of the school, make it difficult to connect with a Jewish community. Waltzman says she has never seen Jewish events publicized or marketed, especially compared to the large number of Christian-affiliated groups advertised.
“I honestly wouldn’t know where to start to get involved with the Jewish community here. There’s a Hillel, but I don’t think it’s very active,” Waltzman says.
She expresses that she knew what she was getting herself into when choosing a southern school. However, she still feels the effects of such a drastic change. At home, Waltzman was one of many Jews at her high school in Needham, Massachusetts. At college, she hesitates to even mention her religious identity.
“I don’t tell people I’m Jewish here,” Waltzman says. “Maybe in a small class where I trust everyone, but I would never go around advertising it.”
Waltzman’s feelings aren’t just her own. “My Jewish friend was actually the one who said I shouldn’t tell people I’m Jewish.”
She explains how North Carolina State University is public, meaning there are random people handing out Bibles almost every day. She notes how they seem to target students that look stereotypically Jewish, and even call them out in front of everybody.
“There’s a general consensus here to just keep our Judaism on the downlow,” she shares
“Overall, I think I’ve been lucky. I haven’t actively seen antisemitism or anything like that, but I also do have blonde hair and blue eyes. I’m honestly lucky I don’t look Jewish. That’s what I’ve learned,” Waltzman reflects.
These four students had imperfect and emotionally-challenging adjustments to their new Jewish lives, but for Max Birnbaum, coming to college has improved his Jewish life rapidly. Birnbaum is a freshman at the University of Maryland, and a Reform Jew who has practiced most of his life.
Birnbaum grew up in Maryland in a town with very few Jewish people. “I was the only fully Jewish kid in my graduating class,” explains Birnbaum.
During his college search, his mom was very supportive of Birnbaum coming to University of Maryland, as it would get him away from the “one-dimensional” Jewish atmosphere of his hometown. The University of Maryland’s 20% Jewish population, with about 6,000 Jewish students, is a drastic change for him.
Since arriving at University of Maryland, Birnbaum has jumped right into the new opportunities given to him.
“I met with one rabbi at Meor, and I’ve been talking to a lot of other Jewish students,” Birnbaum says. “But I haven’t had as much time to join all the Jewish activities I would have liked.”
Even with his time constraints, Birnbaum is excited that he sees events advertised on posters and with tables “at least three times a week during walks to class.”
The cultural change at Maryland has been great for Birnbaum’s identity as a Jew. “I am more comfortable being Jewish here than I was in my hometown,” he shares. “It isn’t treated like a joke here like they treat it there.” People’s lack of reaction to Birnbaum’s religion at University of Maryland came as a surprise. He had become so accustomed to back-talk and comments.
“Every Jewish friend I have made here appreciates Maryland’s inclusivity, but many of them are much more used to already having it than I was at home,” Birnbaum says. With the lively and accepting nature of the University of Maryland’s Jewish community, we often forget that other students in other schools don’t have the same support. With rising antisemitic behavior at colleges across the country, we can’t fail to recognize just how much space and community there is right here at our university.
In the times we need it most, it is inspiring to be at a place like the University of Maryland.
