In two weeks, I’ll be meeting up in Chicago with an alumna from 9 years ago. Then Boston, then Miami and, you get the point.

JGO’s main purpose is to serve as a campus organization for Jewish grad students, but our work is far from over once graduation comes. Most of our students are uninvolved in any other Jewish organizations or synagogues, and we are catching them just as they are about to start their life in the “real world.” As a result, we have many alumni who continue looking toward us as their only Jewish lifeline.

Not only am I losing sleep over what’s been happening on campus since October 7th, I’m also really worried about the many alumni telling me about the serious issues they are facing with anti semitism in the workplace. It’s not grabbing headlines the way it is on campus, but it’s there.

These alumni have each chosen very different ways to respond. Some have all but wrapped themselves in Israeli flags, expressing their identity in a very loud way. Some are afraid of being labeled the office “kvetch” so they try to ignore the hate. Some are just taking the abuse, quietly documenting everything in the hopes of building a case. Some have sadly decided to try and hide the fact that they are Jewish altogether.

When discussing this with other Jewish org leaders, many have suggested that I push for more of the first kind – loud and proud. I’m not sure I agree. Our community is diverse, people are scared, and not everyone can handle the personal and professional consequences of putting their Jewishness out there in people’s faces.

My personal favorite response: Some alumni have risen to the occasion in a different way. Rather than turning their Judaism into a public statement, they are quietly strengthening it in private. They are hosting more Shabbats. They are attending more Jewish events. They are donating to more Jewish causes. They read the news and try to really feel for their brothers and sisters around the world.

These alumni aren’t backing down, but they also aren’t being overt and confrontational. They are connecting to their authentic Jewish selves while exerting a quiet confidence. To me, this takes serious guts and represents the approach that has maintained our Jewish identity for over 2,000 years of exile.

My grandparents in Baghdad wore turbans, spoke Arabic and were fully interwoven into Arab and Iraqi culture. But they were also proud Jews who eventually were forced to flee the country because they were Jews. They accepted that, and moved on.

The heroine of the Purim story, Queen Esther, saved the day by waiting for the last moment to tell the King she was Jewish. Until that point, she worked on strengthening her inner resolve. Hers was a story of quiet confidence. There were no great open miracles, guts and glory. The situation was resolved with behind the scenes diplomacy and leadership alongside a nation collectively united in prayer.

This Purim, let’s celebrate all the Esthers out there. All the quiet and confident Jews – in the office, on campus, around the world.