Being Jewish right now feels really weird. Not a good, quirky, fun kind of weird, mind you—more the kind of weird that’s an uncomfortable, nauseating feeling in your gut. Antisemitic sentiment has been on a steady rise for some time now, but things have escalated considerably over the last few weeks. It started one quiet evening in October, when Kanye West (who now goes by “Ye”) tweeted, “I’m going death con 3 on JEWISH PEOPLE.” It’s almost too difficult to put into words what it feels like to have a musician you idolized growing up threatening to go “death con” on you, but that’s a story for another day.
Since then, West has leaned in, spewing antisemitic hatred whenever he possibly can. Companies have been quick (or, in some cases, really slow) to end their business relationships with him, and he’s been removed from many social media platforms. But the backlash to West’s comments seemed to spark its own backlash, with several fans defending and celebrating him for speaking the “truth” that most wouldn’t dare say.
It’s hard to articulate just how much that sucks. It’s one thing to have a prominent figure go completely off the rails. It's another thing entirely to have average people come out of the woodwork and agree with his takes. Sure, West has been attacked relentlessly on Twitter, but seeing his supporters across the country heading to the streets, emboldened to speak out on his behalf, is horrifying.
Being Jewish should be great—and it often is. Our sense of community, and perhaps more importantly, our food, is second to none. But right now, it just feels lonely. People are happy to go about their lives and let all this stuff just happen without speaking out. It can feel like antisemitism isn’t taken seriously, its effects tossed to the side like a stale knish.
Thankfully, in a wonderful act of kismet, a sketch in the latest episode of Inside Amy Schumer couldn’t have come at a better time. While the fourth season ended way back in 2016, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the provocative comedy series is finally back with Season 5. In this short segment from Episode 3 alone, Schumer, who’s always been outspoken about her relationship to her own Judaism, made me laugh, cringe, and, most importantly, feel way less alone.
The sketch, like most of Schumer’s best work, is outrageous and frequently shocking. It’s set up as a workplace harassment seminar, with the company employees looking forward to learning how they can all better themselves. The host of the seminar (Chris Parnell) is co-leading with Amy (Schumer), who’s there to help run through scenarios. She starts by writing “diversity” on the whiteboard, except she spells it “diversty”. Some snickers emerge, but things start to get weird when an employee comments, “What does that even say? It looks like she’s writing in Hebrew.” Red flag No. 1 emerges. What she’s written is clearly in English, and Amy uncomfortably says the comment felt “pointed,” as she’s Jewish.
With this admission, things escalate out of control. The seminar leader is shocked, saying with a straight face, “Wow! You do not look it.” Amy’s coworkers continue hitting her with a barrage of antisemitism, with each comment ramping up the nastiness. One person pointedly calls Amy a Jew, in a way that nobody could find charming. In another, a co-worker calls her “Shylock”—the Jewish stereotype from The Merchant of Venice–and asks to borrow a few thousand dollars.
What makes this all so funny—and so poignant—instead of offensive is how the seminar leader completely ignores that there’s actual, antisemitic harassment going on. When she’s called Shylock, Parnell’s character tells the group that “it’s not nice to get someone’s name wrong. But it's not illegal, at least not in America.” It’s at once a sharp, valid, and hilarious criticism of the way society treats antisemitism.
From there, the CEO of the company joins in and places a hat worn by Orthodox Jews on Amy’s head, complete with a wig of payot, the curls commonly worn by orthodox Jewish men. No one seems to think this is a problem, but a participant is quick to point it out when the CEO touches Amy, because, of course, that’s the problem. But as Amy continually says how uncomfortable she is, and how distressing all the antisemitism is, nobody says a word.
Eventually, the group’s comments become so explicit and over-the-top that someone finally calls out the rampantly antisemitic behavior. Amy is thrilled to have support—until she realizes that it’s from a Black colleague. Amy’s quick to back down, telling her not to worry, as this is nothing like what Black people go through. It’s a telling moment that reveals not only Amy’s insecurities but also the fear that antisemitism isn’t as legitimate or important as other forms of hatred. Amy’s colleague tries to tell her she’s happy to help, but at this point, Amy’s anxiety over being Jewish have taken over.
Amy goes into a tragicomic monologue, apologizing for everything Jews are “responsible” for. She apologizes for Israel, Bernie Madoff, Bernie Sanders (“All the Bernies” she says), Harvey Weinstein, and anything and everyone else she can think of. She screams, on the verge of tears, “I’m sorry I’m Jewish!” before she—wait for it—explodes into a burst of stars of David (made of gold, because of course they are).
It's a hilarious, brutal ending. But Amy’s monologue also speaks so beautifully to the discomfort Jews carry with us, as we’re expected for some unholy reason to speak for everything that every Jew has ever done. It’s not unlike the experience of other minorities, even if Amy doesn’t think so.
After the sketch ends, Schumer appears on camera to explains its origins—an amusing and insightful new addition to this season of Inside Amy Schumer. “I knew I wanted to tackle antisemitism because people love hearing about it,” she says. Of course, there’s a knowing wink-wink nudge-nudge to her tone, and despite Schumer’s shining smile, it’s clear she knows that people do not like talking about antisemitism at all.
For this episode to air during this particular moment feels remarkably prescient. It’s a really scary time to be Jewish, even before all the Kanye West drama ramped up. With brilliant sketches like this one, Schumer wisely points out the disturbing trend of ignoring antisemitism in the best way we Jews can: by deploying some old-fashioned humor.
