It’s been more than four years since a rabbi and three worshippers were held hostage at Congregation Beth Israel in Colleyville by an armed attacker spouting antisemitic hatred.
This attack touched me differently than others our community had faced previously. My children have prayed at that congregation at the bat-mitzvah of a friend from camp, and I had the good fortune of getting to know Rabbi Charlie Cytron-Walker.
I still vividly remember the overwhelming feeling of concern that the tense standoff might not end well. The 2018 massacre of 11 people at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh, which remains the most deadly attack on Jews in America, instantly came to mind.
Watching the horrific drama play out in real time on Facebook, many of us grimly wondered if Colleyville would become part of the shorthand when reciting attacks that have targeted Jews just wanting to pray and practice our religion.
Opinion
Fortunately, Cytron-Walker and all the congregants made it out safely after a harrowing 11-hour standoff.
I thought about that episode while reading the American Jewish Committee’s State of Antisemitism in America 2025 Report. Among its sobering statistics is that 28% of American Jews say that at least one of the Jewish institutions they are affiliated with – such as synagogues, Jewish schools, and Jewish community centers – was the target of an antisemitic incident in the last five years.
Earlier this month, two dozen Catholic student leaders attended an AJC training on the roots and impact of antisemitism held in partnership with the Jesuit School of Dallas. We came together at one of several area synagogues that have added highly visible security measures in recent years. The participants were struck by the lengths to which Jewish community institutions must go to ensure that practicing our faith can be both safe and celebratory.
While many incidents at Jewish institutions don’t involve physical threats — graffiti and anonymous threats are more prevalent — they are unsettling, nonetheless. While my Jewish friends and neighbors remain fiercely proud to be Jewish, some have told me they often feel compelled, when they are out in public, to choose between their personal safety and their proud Jewish identity.
According to the AJC report, 55% of American Jews say they have changed their behavior out of fear of antisemitism in the last year. Of those, 41% avoid wearing or displaying items in public that might identify them as Jewish. When that same question was asked three years ago – before the Oct. 7, 2023 Hamas terror attack on Israel – it was just 23%.
Their fears are well-founded. The past year was marked by vicious and senseless assaults on American Jews and their allies. The residence of Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro was set on fire in April while he and his family were sleeping. Fortunately, they escaped unharmed.
In May, two Israeli embassy staffers were gunned down outside the Capital Jewish Museum in Washington, D.C. Less than two weeks later, marchers in support of the hostages being held in Gaza by Hamas were firebombed in downtown Boulder, Colo., ultimately leading to the death of Karen Diamond, an 82-year-old member of the community.
This litany of tragedies has had a palpable effect on American Jews, 91% of whom said these incidents made them feel less safe living as a Jewish person in the U.S. That statistic is as troubling as it is unacceptable.
Already in 2026, the American Jewish community has been shaken by the arson at Congregation Beth Israel in Jackson, Miss. The 19-year-old who has been charged with the crime referred to the largest synagogue in the state as a “Synagogue of Satan,” an antisemitic trope that circulated widely on social media platforms at the end of last year.
AJC’s report also found that while 93% of American Jews believe antisemitism is a problem in the U.S., only 70% of the general public feel the same way. But make no mistake: The fight against antisemitism is one we must all take on. Antisemites don’t limit their hatred to Jews. The threats and violence sparked by this hate tear at the fabric of society.
Jews often talk about being under a “big tent,” a concept rooted in building an inclusive community that welcomes diverse views and levels of observance. That tent includes non-Jewish allies who understand and appreciate how Jews fit into the intricate mosaic that is North Texas, and stand with them in solidarity.
The Jewish community is grateful for the faith leaders, civic leaders and people of good conscience who have entered that tent through their words and actions. There is always room for more.
Joel Schwitzer is the Director of the American Jewish Committee’s regional office in Dallas.