Today marks two years since the Oct. 7 massacre, and I feel angry. I feel angry at the horrors, the loss and the way it destroyed my sense of safety.
I remember that day clearly: I was getting ready to celebrate Simchat Torah, a Jewish holiday celebrating the completion and renewal of the annual Torah reading cycle. It is a time to connect, celebrate and pray. That morning, my roommate ran to my door to ask if I had heard about the terror attack in Israel. Over the next 24 hours, we were glued to our phones trying to understand what was happening from more than 5,000 miles away. Overwhelmed, we cried. We cried, not knowing what this meant for Israel, for the Jewish people or for Jews on campus. Two years later, despite the hardships Jewish students have faced on campus, our community has demonstrated its resilience, a strength that we must preserve.
Oct. 7, 2023, was the deadliest day for the Jews since the Holocaust. It was the manifestation of a long-planned attack by Hamas, a terrorist organization that, in its 1988 founding charter, committed to destroying Israel and the Jewish people. They murdered us, and they kidnapped us. They proudly recorded themselves while they destroyed our homes, burned our families alive and raped our women. They were unsuccessful, however, in taking from us our faith.
In the days following the attacks, while we were still searching for our missing family members and burying our dead, some students at Brown weaponized the massacre. At an Oct. 12, 2023, vigil organized by Brown’s chapter of Students for Justice in Palestine, a peer called out “glory to our martyrs.” In a post released shortly after the attack, they proclaimed that they “stand in solidarity with the Palestinian resistance” and that they hold “the Israeli regime and its allies unequivocally responsible for all suffering and loss of life,” glossing over the countless documented war crimes committed by Hamas on that day.
Even at an Ivy League university, where students are known for their critical thinking, I felt unwelcome on my own campus because I am a Zionist Jew. I heard students calling for a global intifada, an incitement to violence against Jews. I watched as students occupied campus buildings and chanted hateful slogans on the Main Green. I wanted to believe that they didn’t understand, that they were misinformed. However, the sad reality is that they are informed and they still choose to sympathize with Hamas.
Today, on the second anniversary of that horrible day, some of our fellow students released a disturbing statement saying, “With grief, rage and resilience, we mark the second year since Al-Aqsa Flood and the Zionist colony's genocide in Gaza began.” They emphasize their “support for resistance … no matter its form.” How would you feel if your fellow Brown students expressed their “support” for the rape of your mother and the beheading of your father?
Despite this incredibly difficult moment in the Jewish student experience — one that left many of us feeling alienated from the rest of our Brown community — we courageously leaned deeper into Jewish life, failing to let the noise break our strength. For example, in March 2024, around 30 Jewish students, including myself, travelled to Israel on a volunteer trip. We visited the site of the Nova massacre, where hundreds of young Israelis were brutally murdered while dancing at a music festival. After witnessing the horrors firsthand, we grew more resolved to tell the story of what had happened on Oct. 7. Together, we also spoke out against divestment and won.
Instead of being swayed by mainstream rhetoric, I became more connected to my Judaism. I have started observing Shabbat and keeping kosher. I showed pride in my identity. As a tour guide at Brown, I always mentioned and continue to mention that I am involved with Jewish life on campus, despite worries of how I might be perceived. Pride and resilience in the face of a world that seems to hate us is something that every Jew must carry. It is what has ensured the survival of the Jewish people for millennia, and it is what will equip us to confront the challenges of our future. When we choose the more difficult path of courage, we build a collective whose strength is derived from its resilience.
Two years later, we can see that strength fully materialized. Despite facing harassment on campus and across the globe, our Jewish community is stronger than ever. We have Shabbat dinners with hundreds of students every week, we host daily prayers and there is a kosher kitchen in the main dining hall. I can tangibly feel the Jewish community growing at Brown and becoming more vibrant since my freshman year.
When SJP was suspended from campus last year, I felt I could finally walk around campus free of harassment. To hear that they have been reinstated is a hard reality. Regardless, we held a vigil to remember the victims of Oct. 7 and honor their lives, because again, no matter how they choose to twist the story, we will never forget what happened that day. I hope campuses become a place where students generate ideas for peace, not negate each other’s experiences. I pray that Hamas will soon surrender, that there will soon be peace and that the hostages will finally return home to us.
Oct. 7, 2025, is the beginning of Sukkot. A holiday we refer to as ‘Z’man Simchateinu,’ a time of our joy. We are commanded to be happy, but today I am angry. Although I must now hold both grief and joy every year at Simchat Torah, I am reassured in knowing that the Jewish people are still here, and we are not going anywhere. We are dancing again, because no matter how many times they try to break us, it is our tradition of resilience that keeps us alive.
Chag Sameach and Am Yisrael Chai.
Victoria Zang ’26 can be reached at victoria_zang@brown.edu. Please send responses to this op-ed to letters@browndailyherald.com and other opinions to opinions@browndailyherald.com.
