I grew up with the last name Paikin – rhymes with Bacon. In junior high school, the boys would taunt me, nudging and jostling with remarks like “move over Paikin, make room for something leaner.”
As a middle schooler grappling with body image, these jibes cut deep, breeding a sense of insecurity and fear. Their jeers escalated to the point where “Bacon” became my unwelcome moniker, echoing down the corridors with each passing, triggering anxiety that permeated every aspect of my life.
To outsiders, these may have seemed like harmless jests, easily dismissed. But for me, they were anything but benign. They shaped my behavior, sapping my confidence and impacting my academic performance. Yet, if I dared to voice my distress, the response would likely have been dismissive – a casual shrug, a remark to toughen up and not take it so personally.
Anyone who has experienced the anguish of bullying knows its scars run deep. What we’re watching play out on college campuses today is a disturbing echo of that same bullying and harassment. But instead of swift action, most university leaders seem paralyzed, reluctant to acknowledge the plight of Jewish students facing similar torment. Instead, they’re placating the protesters – many of whom are not students.
This reluctance stems from a failure to recognize modern antisemitism, often hiding under the guise of anti-Zionism. By labeling campus protests as “anti-war” or championing human rights, administrators overlook the veiled bigotry aimed at Jewish students.
Just as I recognized “Bacon” as a weapon against me, Jewish students see “Zionism” as code for Jew and calls for its eradication as veiled antisemitism. One reason universities and other institutions fail to respond properly to clearly antisemitic incidents such as these is that they lack a basic definition to determine what counts as antisemitism and what does not.
The US House of Representatives took a major step in solving that problem when they overwhelmingly passed the Antisemitism Awareness Act (H.R.6090), a piece of bipartisan legislation that requires the Department of Education to use the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance’s (IHRA) definition of antisemitism and its 11 examples when conducting federal investigations involving colleges and universities. We also believe that if the Department of Education is required to use this definition, colleges and universities will follow suit.
Now, Jewish Federations, which began pushing for passage of this legislation last September, are encouraging the US Senate to act swiftly in getting the legislation approved and urging the president to sign it into law. The opposition to the definition has come from some who view it as overly broad, erroneously claiming that it stifles legitimate criticism of Israel’s governmental policies and, more generally, undermines freedom of expression.
The standard does neither of these things. It clearly distinguishes legitimate criticism of Israel from antisemitism or anti-Zionism and does nothing to infringe upon First Amendment rights, nor could it, given the constitutional status of the First Amendment.
Lack of familiarity with "Zionism"
Sadly, many Americans remain unfamiliar with the term “Zionist” and its implications. That’s why we must provide clarity, grounding the discourse in a common understanding. The IHRA definition, coupled with its illustrative examples, offers this clarity, delineating the boundary between free speech and hateful conduct. It also enables bodies to officially push back against those who attack, malign, or exclude Jews simply for supporting the Jewish right to self-determination, which an overwhelming majority of US Jews say is a core part of their identity. The definition is meant to be a helpful tool to pinpoint the kind of antisemitism we are seeing on dozens of university campuses.
Educators and administrators have made significant progress since I was in junior high school. They learned how to promote a positive classroom environment where respect, kindness, and empathy are encouraged. They learned to establish clear expectations and consequences, implement anti-bullying policies that outline procedures for reporting incidents and the consequences for perpetrators, and—perhaps most importantly—set clear definitions around the unacceptable behavior.
Once bullying was defined and recognized, it was much easier to put steps in place to create a safer and more supportive school environment where all students could thrive.
All that progress is at risk of coming undone.
Congress can now do the same to protect Jewish students. The House took a crucial step forward in passing the Antisemitism Awareness Act. Now, the Senate must act promptly to approve it and send it to the president’s desk for signature so that the Education Department has the tools it needs to act. The time has come to confront antisemitism head-on in order to protect the rights and dignity of all Jewish students.
The writer is vice president of government relations at Jewish Federations of North America.