{"id":1145,"date":"2026-05-06T13:11:41","date_gmt":"2026-05-06T13:11:41","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blog.equalityanddiversity.co.uk\/?p=1145"},"modified":"2026-05-06T13:11:42","modified_gmt":"2026-05-06T13:11:42","slug":"would-you-hide-me","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.equalityanddiversity.co.uk\/index.php\/2026\/05\/06\/would-you-hide-me\/","title":{"rendered":"Would You Hide Me?\u00a0"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Black. Jewish. Unapologetic.  Inspired by the growing fear, trauma and silence surrounding antisemitism in Britain today, and the question many Jewish families are now quietly asking: \u201cWould they hide me?\u201d<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Opening Poem \u2014 The Question We Should Never Have to Ask<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Would you hide me if they came?
If hatred once again had name?
If windows smashed and children cried,
Would you stand here by my side?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Would you lock your door in fear,
Pretend you did not see me near?
Or risk your comfort, risk your place,
To shield a family from disgrace?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

History whispers through the years,
Not through textbooks through our fears.
A people hunted, blamed and burned,
Whilst neighbours watched and slowly turned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And still today the old hate grows,
In coded speech and marching rows,
In silence dressed as neutrality,
In performative morality.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am Black and I am Jew,
So believe me when I tell you:
Hatred never stays confined,
It poisons first the human mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A joke. A slur. A sneer. A stare.
A silence saying, \u201cI don\u2019t care.\u201d
Until one day a child must see
Their faith become insecurity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And somewhere mothers still explain
Why trauma lives inside the name,
Why grandad flinches at the sound
Of crowds when anger gathers round.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So, before society descends,
Ask yourself not just your friends:
When justice calls and fear runs deep
Would you stand?
Or merely sleep?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When Jewish Pain Becomes Politically Convenient<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

There is something deeply disturbing happening in Britain right now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jewish families are frightened.
Jewish schools need security.
Jewish children are hiding symbols of identity.
Jewish communities are once again discussing safety, escape routes, and whether people around them would truly protect them if hatred escalated further.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That sentence alone should horrify us all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Yet too often, antisemitism is minimised, explained away, intellectualised, politicised, or treated as somehow different from other forms of racism.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As a Black Jewish woman, I know what racism feels like. I know what prejudice sounds like. I know what it means to have your humanity questioned before you even speak.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And I also know this: antisemitism is not abstract. It is not historical. It is not \u201cover there\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It is here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWould They Hide Me?\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Recently, broadcaster Trevor Phillips wrote about Jewish families asking one haunting question around the dinner table:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWould they hide me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not metaphorically.
Not dramatically.
Seriously.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That question should stop every educator, governor, leader, policymaker, parent and equality practitioner in their tracks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because no community asks that question unless fear has already entered the room.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jewish people are not imagining this fear. Across the UK there has been a significant rise in antisemitic incidents, abuse, threats, attacks, conspiracy theories, online hatred and intimidation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And whilst politicians argue, communities absorb trauma.
<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Antisemitism Does Not Need a Uniform<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

One of the most dangerous things about antisemitism is its adaptability.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It evolves.
It changes language.
It disguises itself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sometimes it appears as open hatred.
Sometimes as conspiracy theories.
Sometimes as \u201cbanter\u201d.
Sometimes as exclusion.
Sometimes as silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

People often think antisemitism only looks like swastikas or neo-Nazi marches. But antisemitism also looks like:<\/p>\n\n\n\n