Read. This. Book. (Even If You Think It’s Not for You): A Review of White. Blonde. Jew.
I was once having a conversation with a rabbi about the Jewish spiritual content we listen to, and I mentioned my favorite Jewish podcast, Spiritual Tools for an Outrageous World. It’s hosted by David Sacks, a television writer and the leader of the Happy Minyan in Los Angeles. I’ve listened to him nearly every week since 2008 and have always found his observations (some might call them sermons) insightful, meaningful, and spiritually fulfilling. When I mentioned the podcast, the rabbi told me she had tried listening but couldn’t get very far. The reason? His nasally New York voice. I had to laugh, but I also understood.
David Sacks could have been solving all the world’s problems, but sometimes we just have a hard time connecting with certain people. It’s not necessarily about what they’re saying. Sometimes there’s something about a person’s voice, tone, or delivery that simply doesn’t click with our brains. We can’t always explain it, but it happens.
Over the past month, I’ve read two books that left me with a similar feeling: Help, Thanks, Wow by Anne Lamott and White. Blonde. Jew.: A Call to End Extremism, Speak Up, and Reclaim Center by Alyssa Rosenheck. That doesn’t mean Rosenheck’s book lacks merit. Quite the opposite. There is a tremendous amount of value in what she has written, even if I didn’t always connect with how she delivered it.
As a Jewish man in my 40s, I also recognize that I’m probably not her target audience. Perhaps the title should have been my first clue. But particularly in the world we’re living in today, I believe it’s important to read, support, and amplify Jewish and Zionist voices, even when those voices don’t necessarily speak directly to us. And Rosenheck certainly has something worth saying.
She wrote White. Blonde. Jew. with the Reese’s Book Club crowd in mind. It feels especially geared toward non-Jewish readers and Jewish women looking for a book that can spark meaningful conversations around identity, antisemitism, politics, and belonging. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. In fact, reaching those audiences may be one of the most important things this book can accomplish.
Rosenheck, a blonde, white-passing Jewish woman, was hardly immune to the wave of antisemitism that followed October 7th. She lost work and income because of her Jewish identity, found herself excluded from spaces where she had once felt welcome, and was left feeling politically homeless, no longer finding a place where she truly belonged.
As the title suggests, Rosenheck divides her book into three sections. The first, White, explores her own experiences with identity politics and the dangers of taking those ideas too far in either direction. She also reminds readers of something that often gets lost in today’s conversations about race and identity: Jews are not simply white.
The second section, Blonde, was perhaps the weakest of the three for me. It’s not quite a repeat of the first section, but it does revisit and reinforce many of the same ideas without necessarily breaking much new ground.
The final section, Jew, is where Rosenheck really turns up the volume. If the first two sections were about calling out troubling ideas and challenging assumptions, this is where she pulls out the bullhorn. She takes a much deeper look at antisemitism, the behavior we’ve witnessed in recent years, and what she believes we can and should be doing about it.
Throughout the book, Rosenheck weaves in plenty of personal stories and anecdotes that help bring her arguments to life. Rather than hitting readers over the head with fact after fact, she uses her own experiences to make the issues feel personal, relatable, and human.
At the end of each chapter, Rosenheck encourages readers to use what she calls the P.A.C.E. Method: Pause, Analyze, Contemplate, and Engage. This only reinforces my belief that she wants this book to be the centerpiece of your next book club meeting.
I’ve attended plenty of book clubs over the years, and I know how easily conversations can get sidetracked, especially when the subject matter is personal or politically charged. By introducing P.A.C.E., Rosenheck gives readers a way to keep the discussion focused, encourage thoughtful dialogue, and hopefully walk away with something more meaningful.
Overall, this isn’t my favorite post-October 7th narrative. But then again, it was never meant to be. Not every book is going to speak to every reader, and that’s okay. What Rosenheck has given us is another tool to pick up and use in the fight against antisemitism. And for that reason alone, it’s worth reading.
