4 | OCTOBER 24 • 2024 J
N

essay
One Year Later
O

ct. 7, 2024.
One year later, it still hurts. 
One year later and my hands 
are shaking as I put on my “Bring 
Them Home Now” necklace. One year 
later, and I am feeling the same as the 
day our hearts broke. 
I woke up to my social 
media flooded with 
prayers, remembrances 
for those whose lives 
were taken too soon, 
and hope that this living 
nightmare will be over 
sooner rather than later. 
“1 year of heartbreak.
 1 year of sadness. 
1 year of rising hatred against our 
community. 
1 year of saying: 
BRING THEM HOME NOW
.
” 
I wrote those 5 lines on my 
Instagram story alongside a post 
shared by the State of Israel’s official 
Instagram account. As a writer, I’m not 
often at a loss for words, but how can I 
explain what I am feeling isn’t just me? 
How do I explain to my non-Jewish 
friends that when our community is 
attacked, everyone feels that same hurt 
and fear as though we were all one 
person? 
When my friend wanted to meet 
for lunch, I said OK. Once I stepped 
outside my dorm building and started 
walking to lunch, I got an anxious 
feeling in my gut, same as I did a year 
ago. The only difference is that this 
time I was not hiding the fact I was 
Jewish, and I was proudly showing 
off my “Bring Them Home Now” 
necklace. But the fact that I felt the 
same way now as I did a year ago 
emphasizes how that fearful feeling 
never truly goes away. 
I have grown within this last year, 
making sure to only surround myself 
with true friends, cutting out those 
who are not and experiencing the 
change I can make by simply using my 
voice. While I often feel alone on my 
campus, as do my Jewish friends who 
are using their voices to stand for Israel 

at other colleges, I know that we will 
always be connected as we share in the 
resilience and strength that is found in 
every proud Jew. 
I headed off to class with that same 
uneasy feeling in my stomach. Seeing 
the Detroit Jewish Federation building 
vandalized made me even more 
anxious. I’ve been to that building so 
many times growing up — meetings 
for Tamarack Camp, JARC, Hebrew 
Free Loan and more. I always thought 
of that building as untouchable and 
so strong. For it to be vandalized — 
especially on this day — felt like the 
wall protecting us was breaking down.
I had the opportunity to attend a 
community commemoration at the 
University of Michigan. It meant a 
lot to be able to join and be part of a 
larger Jewish community when my 
own at Eastern Michigan University is 
so small. Whenever I go to U-M for a 
community event, I feel as though I am 
stepping into a whole new world as life 
on U-M’s campus is so greatly different 

than it is on EMU’s. 
When driving to the Diag, we saw 
a pro-Palestine march crossing the 
street. It felt surreal to see it with my 
own eyes, as thankfully, I have only 
seen such protests happening on 
other campuses across social media. 
People were waving Palestinian and 
Lebanese flags, wearing both black 
and white and red and white keffiyehs, 
and many wearing face masks, as well. 
As they were crossing the street, they 
were screaming chants about wanting 
U-M to divest as well as “freeing their 
people.
” Thankfully, the protesters 
were walking in the opposite direction 
of the Diag, so we knew they weren’t 
planning on disturbing our event. 
On our way to the Diag, we also 
passed a truck with a holographic 
screen displaying anti-Israel messages. 
I had seen similar vehicles posted on 
Instagram by the Jewbelong account. 
However, instead of displaying 
uplifting messages, the ones on I saw 
that day were meant to put us down. 

“Zionism is terrorism, not Judaism” 
it said at first glance. Then, the screen 
changed to an image of a “wanted 
poster” style photos of Israel’s Prime 
Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, 
President Joe Biden, and one other 
politician I couldn’t quite make out, 
with a message across their faces 
saying, “Wanted for Genocide.
” 
The foundation of being a Zionist 
is that one supports the need for a 
permanent statehood and home for 
Jewish people, that home being the 
ancestral land of the Jewish people — 
Eretz Yisrael. Theodore Herzl, known 
as the father of Zionism, wrote that 
one of the aspects that would separate 
our Jewish state from others is that our 
home would be a land of acceptance, 
free of the persecution found in other 
countries. That is what Zionism truly 
means and that is why I am proud to 
be a Zionist.
Seeing what our people had to 
go through, correction, seeing what 
our people are currently facing, only 
emphasizes the need and desire to 
advocate for our Jewish homeland. 
The harassment I receive online, 
synagogues and Jewish businesses 
being vandalized, the intimidating and 
violent protests, the encampments … it 
is all made to make us feel frightened 
and unsafe. However, those who try to 
scare us forget: “We are one people — 
our enemies have made us one without 
our consent. Distress binds us together, 
and, thus united, we suddenly discover 
our strength.
” (The Jewish State, 
pamphlet published 1896 by Theodore 
Herzl). 
We are one people, standing together 
more resilient than ever. The love and 
strength that binds our community will 
overcome any form of hate that tries to 
break it. We are not going anywhere. 

Shayla Mostyn is a junior in the Honors 

College at Eastern Michigan University, major-

ing in sociology with a minor in journalism. 

She is president of Hillel at EMU, a writer for 

the Eastern Echo, social media manager for 

the Center for Jewish Studies at EMU and is a 

#EAmbassador for EMU.

Shayla 
Mostyn 

PURELY COMMENTARY

A display at U-M’s Oct. 7 
commemoration

