We rode the No. 1 train from Columbia down to Times Square, where I’d grab the A to Bed-Stuy, and she’d take the bus to Jersey. I stare into the crowd while she insists there’s no rise in antisemitism; it’s a media creation. I know her well enough not to argue her perception, so I tell her my experience.

As a Black woman at an Ivy League institution, she won’t question my reality. Still, she insists it’s a few bad actors, dismisses concerns about an incoming mayor who refuses to denounce the intifada, and repeats a version of a familiar refrain that more or less means “the Jews have it coming.”

Of course, she doesn’t say that. She blames antisemitism on the war, insists it’s merely anti-Zionism. I nod, permitting myself a break from my Jewishness. I’m one of those sleeper Jews; if I don’t declare it, you’d never know.

Then Bondi happened. I didn’t wait for the global outrage. I didn’t wait for thoughts and prayers. I knew they weren’t coming. It’s been more than a year since I wrote about........

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