“Bad Jew” Spoken Word Poem
Acclaimed spoken word poet Vanessa Hidary, known as the “Hebrew Mamita,” shares a spoken word poem about her experience as a Jew post-October 7th.
With pride and defiance, she reclaims the word "Zionist," reclaiming its narrative and standing against those who attempt to distort its meaning. Her performance is a celebration of Jewish identity and resilience, offering a bold reminder of the power of owning one’s story.
About Our Speaker:
Vanessa Hidary is a trailblazing spoken word artist, educator, and advocate whose work has had a profound impact on both the Jewish community and beyond. Over two decades ago, she began performing her powerful poetry in New York City venues, becoming a pioneering voice for Jewish identity in the slam poetry scene. Her signature poem, "Hebrew Mamita," was featured on HBO’s Def Poetry Jam, where she openly discussed her Jewish heritage, challenging stereotypes and fostering a deeper understanding of Jewish diversity. This work connected with Jews worldwide, especially young Jews grappling with expressing their Jewish pride.
Vanessa’s creative work often centers on bridging divides and fostering unity within the Jewish community, particularly among Jews of different racial and ethnic backgrounds. Inspired by her own Syrian-Jewish heritage, she founded the Kaleidoscope Project, a narrative-arts initiative that amplifies the stories of Jews of Color, Sephardic and Mizrahi Jews, and those with interfaith experiences. Through personal storytelling, Vanessa provides platforms for underrepresented voices and encourages conversations about identity, discrimination, and belonging.
Video Transcript
I told my friend I was a Zionist and immediately she looked unwell. If I had known Zionist was now code for white supremacist, I would have sat her down first. I would have whispered. I wouldn't have confessed my cultish ways in my MFA trained theater voice in a bar in the heart of Manhattan. I wouldn't have allowed that long, awkward silence before I followed up with the now obligatory American Jewish explanation.
I mean, my definition of Zionism. I repeated it, hand over my heart like the national anthem, my definition of Zionism. The belief that the state of Israel has the right to exist. I concluded with the lamest shit to ever come out of my Jewish mouth. I'm still the same me. It's unclear if I was trying to convince her or myself.
I wanted her to remember it was me, the Jew who went to police brutality marches. It was me, the Jew that has spent her life fighting for equality. It is me, the Jew raising a black Jewish Dominican daughter. Me, the good Jew. My Jewish pride has been on display since my first open mic. Accepted, respected.
I'll go as far as to say unique and entertaining. My official and unofficial bio has been, you gotta meet my girl, Vanessa. She's Jewish, but I swear you would never know it. She's Jewish, but she's cool. She's Jewish, but, but, but, but, but, she's a good Jew. I've surrendered to this. Believing my mere presence in a sea of non Jews would offset stereotypes.
Growing up in the conscious age of hip hop, my black and Latino friends were the driving force behind celebrating my identity. Their fists and flags in the air, I longed to know that fierce pride. Longed to know why I was white but my grandmother spoke Arabic. Longed to immerse myself in other cultures while loving and honoring my own.
And I did it. I became Jewy neurotic humor sprinkled with New York City grit. Rocking with the very best from a hole in the wall in Brooklyn to a deaf poetry jam stage on HBO. I made my mark. Called the spoken word scene home. All the puzzle pieces fit. They all fit. Until anyone mentioned it. Israel always threw a wrench in the works.
Anytime there was an incident, there would be a week or so of Israel bashing, topped with a few anti Semitic tropes in passing. But I kept on Jewing, kept on talking about Jewish pride and avoided politics. And everyone would forget about Israel again. Until October 7th. By October 8th, my definition of Zionism was hijacked.
By October 9th, I posted an Israeli flag on Instagram and lost followers. By October 10th, there were still no hopes and prayers for Israeli victims of terror. By October 11th, I saw things I couldn't unsee. By October 12th, I knew I could no longer be a good Jew. An apologetic Jew, a Jew who has taken our homeland for granted, a Jew with a grandmother that ended up in New York but could have ended up in Israel, a Jew who now calls herself a Zionist and watches faces fall, a Zionist who some other artist won't be on the same bill with.
A Zionist who knows that free speech is never so free as when it's hate speech against Jews. A Zionist who knows rape is not resistance. A Zionist that didn't think she could feel more proud of her people. A Zionist who confronted a white man ripping down hostage posters. A Zionist who was called a white supremacist in front of her black daughter.
A Zionist who knew she needed to go to Israel to bear witness, to let them know we have your back, to apologize for being that American that only calls in emergencies, to tell you that what I've lost in people I've gained in backbone, to tell you I'm now a bad Jew,
a once accepted Jew, a grieving Jew, a standing Jew, a politically homeless spoken word artist Jew, an awful, unapologetic, unwavering, proud till the f*****g end Jew.
