We were brought up on stories about the beautiful people. The better people. The people who rule over us.
No more.
A blog by Elad Nehorai
We were brought up on stories about the beautiful people. The better people. The people who rule over us.
No more.
How blaming my wife, and her refusal to blame me back, taught me what it means to love someone. Including myself.
Why we’ve got “Don’t confuse the Jews with Judaism” all wrong.
For the last year, I’ve given up my agency as a writer to others. No more.
A story about a kingdom going mad, and the painful choice the leaders had to make. And what this all means in a country where it often seems we are constantly trying to hold onto our sanity.
“Mentally ill.” “Traitor.” “Liar.” These are the words I have come to get used to hearing about my writing when it critiques my own community. Such attacks no longer concern me. Here’s why.
I’ve always cared a lot about abuse cases, especially in my own community. But as a man who has never been abused, the #MeToo campaign forced me to examine why I cared in the first place.
I thought the reaction to the latest documentary about those leaving Hasidic communities, “One of Us,” would be different. I was wrong.
Maybe I should have been resisting all along.
How a haircut in St. Louis turned into a lesson in the mechanics of bigotry.
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