Purim: a fun holiday marking a serious moment, the moment a woman put her life at risk to save her people. Would I be as brave as Esther? For what would I be willing to risk my life? I would like to say that I would be willing to risk my life for my principles and my core beliefs. I have certainly taken important personal and professional risks to stand-up for what I believe in and consider myself to be a person of strong ideals, motivated by ethical considerations. My colleagues, friends and family would attest to the fact that values and ethics play a central role in my life. I have been very committed to speaking-out on issues of social injustice, racism, and gender discrimination. I have questioned my thinking and examined the privileged place from which I come, complete with its particular worldview and all of its biases. I have tried hard to recognise that I have not earned all of have in my life, but have instead been randomly lucky to be born where I was, to a particular family in a particular age.

But would I be willing to risk my life, my existence, for these ideals? I am not sure. If I am truly honest, I think there is much I might be silent about if there was a gun to my head or a knife to my throat. I would be willing to risk my life to protect someone vulnerable or close to me. If I saw a child, a woman or someone disadvantaged, for example, being beaten or mistreated, I would rush to intervene without thinking of the potential danger or risk. Similarly, if someone attacked my children I would risk my life without a second thought. These situations are reflexive, however. In circumstances where I had time to reflect and be more strategic about my reaction, I might decide that my children’s need to have a mother in their lives and my responsibility to them would be more important than risking my life for the sake of an ideal. At the same time, however, I would not want to model a life of moral convenience to my children: I would want them to see me standing up for my principles even, and perhaps especially, if it were hard to do.

Although the reality that Jews have faced historically affects my perception of what it means to be a Jew, it is not the main focus of how I connect to Judaism. Perhaps it should be, I don’t know. Considering the realities of history, why would I want my children to be Jewish? I would want my children to choose a Jewish life because they find meaning and value in the principles, rituals and tenets of Judaism. I would want them to reject – wholeheartedly, actively and completely – the hate-filled message of Anti-Semitism and stand-up against injustice and intolerance wherever they find it. Perhaps it is the historical suffering that the Jews have suffered and their reaction to it, their survival and commitment to Jewish principles, that I would want my children to connect to in being raised in a Jewish home. I would want them to feel grateful and humbled at the idea that so many people were persecuted yet still found meaning in their faith and that hate and intolerance wasn’t able to snuff that out. I would want them to connect to the activism that has been born out of that suffering and to feel a sense of responsibility to the community in which they find themselves. I would want them to recognise the weight that comes with choosing a Jewish life and the honour that it represents given the history of the Jewish people.