On October 7th, 2023, I was a personal chef in Nashville, cooking for artists, athletes, and new moms.
On October 10th, I posted my first video about Israel on TikTok.
And three months later on January 2nd, I traded what I thought would be my lifelong career for a job as a content creator for HonestReporting, a media watchdog combating anti-Israel bias.
Hi, I’m Sarah, though you might know me online as @thejewishginger.
Quite the career change, right?… So how did I get here?
Let’s rewind to October 7th, 2023. I was in New York for my brother’s wedding. For my family, it was a day of blissful, overwhelming joy—the ‘crying happy tears’ kind—full of restorative, full-circle moments for my family. It was the last time my parents, brothers, and I would ever be in the same room, as my dad passed away eight months later, followed by my mom five months after him.
October 7th will forever be etched in my mind as one of the most significant days of my life…but I had no idea just how pivotal it would be, too.
I didn’t have my phone on me the day of my brother’s wedding. I had no idea what was happening in Israel. It wasn’t until the following day, on the plane, when I started checking texts and scrolling social media that I began to piece together that October 7th wasn’t just another day in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict…This was different.
After landing back home in Nashville, I started consuming information on October 7th anywhere I could find it. I followed pro-Israel accounts on social media and obsessively checked the news. I couldn’t stomach what I was seeing, yet I felt a strong responsibility to bear witness to it. The footage was the most barbaric, horrific imagery I had ever seen. With every video I watched, my worldview shattered, and I swore I could physically feel each individual fracture. For weeks afterward, I wasn’t able to sleep, eat, or function properly. I was in shock—my brain quite literally couldn’t make sense of it. I didn’t know human beings were capable of the things I had witnessed. I had never fully understood the depth of the hatred that fuels antisemitism—until then.
On October 9th, one of my childhood best friends, who had made aliyah nine years prior, got called into IDF reserve duty. Her base was only a few miles from Gaza and was one of the army bases that had been attacked on October 7th. Her room had fresh bullet holes inches above her pillow, bloodstains still on the floor, and a door lock that was shot off by terrorists who killed eight soldiers on her base.
That was the moment everything changed for me. This was no longer a brutal attack on a country thousands of miles away. Just forty-eight hours stood between the girl I’ve known since I was five years old and the terrorists who would have killed her if given the chance.
This was personal.
I remember asking her, “What can I do? How can I help?”
Her response? “Tell the world the truth.”
So, I did.
The next day, I posted a video on TikTok to my just over 100 followers.
It got over 50,000 views.
But here’s the part of the story that’s important—the part that proves becoming an advocate for a just cause isn’t based on ability or qualifications but on a willingness to speak for what’s right. The truth is, I loved Israel, I knew it was inextricably intertwined with Jewish identity, but I didn’t know the first thing about advocacy. For every comment that I didn’t know how to answer, I’d research, I’d message my Israeli friends to get a firsthand perspective, and I’d flip through multiple sources of the same news story, trying to sort through what was true and what wasn’t.
Apparently, that’s what the 20,000 people who started following me over the next couple of months wanted to know too–the truth. For every video I made addressing a frequently asked question, dozens more emerged, and the process repeated.
Somewhere along the way, I stumbled upon HonestReporting, an organization that was successfully doing what I was attempting to do on my own – sifting through false and biased narratives in the media, and reporting the truth. They were just doing it on a much larger – and more experienced – scale.
In November 2023, a TikTok follower of mine, who happened to be a longtime friend of Simon Plosker, HonestReporting’s Editorial Director, recommended me for a content creator position within the organization. It was an obvious fit from the beginning, and in December 2023, I accepted the job.
On my personal TikTok account, I had videos wrongly removed for allegedly ‘violating community guidelines.’ One of these violations in particular led to my account being shadowbanned for 90 days, meaning my account could only reach hundreds, rather than the thousands I had been able to previously.
Surely now, working for an organization exclusively dedicated to calling out misinformation, I’d have better luck on TikTok…right?
Wrong.
HonestReporting’s account had an even steeper uphill battle on TikTok than my personal account did. With few exceptions, every third video was getting flagged and removed. The social media platform that had initially allowed my voice to reach thousands, was now aiding in suppressing it. Not only that, but our content—debunking misinformation published by news outlets—was being flagged as misinformation itself.
So what do I think of the TikTok ban? Well, I have mixed feelings. Living in Nashville (and having worked at a record label for a couple of years), I’ve witnessed artists get discovered and songs go viral because of TikTok. I’ve seen home chefs gain massive audiences and land brand deals. I’ve seen how just the mere possibility of virality– of turning a passion into a career, a joke into a dollar, or an idea into something that resonates – is enough to fertilize hope or birth creativity. And personally, I’ve witnessed firsthand the power of TikTok to spread the truth far beyond the echo chamber and connect with hundreds of thousands of strangers all over the world.
But I’ve also seen the dangers of it. I’ve seen how quickly and subtly antisemitic and anti-Zionist rhetoric can spread. I’ve seen how the app, once known for harmless dance moves, turned into a primary news source for most American teens. And I’ve seen how the most vile antisemitic comments and hateful DMs somehow never seem to violate community guidelines.
The hard truth is, whether TikTok is banned or not, antisemitism isn’t going away. And as discouraging as that may seem, there are things you can do to help combat Jew hatred on and off screen. Here are some of my own tips that I’ve learned along the way:
Stay focused. The loudest voices don’t necessarily represent the majority. For every viral and vocal antisemite, there are dozens of reasonable people who, when presented with factual information, would actually be willing to change their minds. They’re your audience. The rest is noise.
1. Don’t be intimidated by what you don’t know. People shy away from debate or discussion because they’re afraid they won’t know the answer. If you encounter something you don’t know, research! Whether the topic is Judaism, Jewish history, or the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, refuse to be intellectually lazy, and challenge others to do the same. You don’t need a history degree, but a basic understanding will serve you well. Spoiler alert: We’re on the right side of history. The more you dig, the more you’ll confirm it.
2. Report antisemitic accounts and misinformation. I know, I know. It really should be a no-brainer.
3. Understand bias. In sources, in reporting, at the UN, etc. What they aren’t saying is equally as important as what they are. Familiarize yourself with which sources and voices may contain inherent bias.
4. Boost pro-Israel and Jewish content. Like it, comment, share it, interact with it. Do what you can to boost the algorithm so that other accounts have a better chance of seeing the content too.
5. Shake it off. The internet’s a vicious place. If they can’t attack your argument, they’ll attack you. It’s a mean, cheap, and lazy way of saying they have no leg to stand on. Don’t waste another second on it.
6. Choose your battles. Don’t respond to bots, don’t respond to every hateful comment, and NEVER respond to antisemites one-on-one in your DMs. The only time I choose to engage with antisemitic or anti-Israel comments is if they can serve as a broader teaching moment. Remember, you’re not really responding for the commenter; you’re responding for the thousands of people who might see it.
7. Get involved. Jewish joy is the best remedy for antisemitism. Attend events and volunteer within your local Jewish community as well as outside of it. We build strength by standing together and allies by stepping beyond.
8. Jewish pride is contagious. Remember how it feels to see someone in public proudly wearing a Jewish star necklace or a yellow hostage pin? Be that for someone else. Be visible. Be proud.
9. Go to Israel. If you’ve never been to Israel, go. Most of the false, antisemitic claims you encounter online are disproved minutes after stepping off the plane.
Fighting misinformation online is undoubtedly an uphill battle. But it’s a worthwhile fight and one we can’t afford to walk away from.
Publish date: January 21st
By: The Jewish Ginger (Sarah)
