(My) Star of David
"When the Zionist dream was realized in 1948 and Jews finally returned to their homeland, Israel adopted a national flag with the azure colored Star smack dab in the middle. Game, set, match."
By Michael Golden
I don’t think I started wearing a Star of David around my neck until I was in my mid-20s.
I had started doing some work interviewing Holocaust survivors in Chicago, then in Iowa and California. I was also reporting on a lot of violent hate crime. Quite suddenly, I felt the need to carry my Jewish pride every day in a physical way.
And when I was wearing clothes that allowed my Magen David to be seen — it felt great. To be honest, I liked that it could also serve as a potential expression of contempt. A little DeNiro from Taxi Driver. If someone who hated Jews saw it, I didn’t have to say a word. The Star said it all:
“You lookin’ at me? You got a problem with me or any Jew? Here I am, moron. Do what ya gotta do.”
The Star was made of gold, and eventually, I just didn’t like wearing gold. A little ornate for me. So I set it down for a while.
In 1999, at age 32, I took my first trip to Israel. I fell in love with the country the first half of the first day — singing Hatikvah in front of a portrait of Theodor Herzl in Independence Hall.
Later that week, I bought a simple silver ring from a really cute Israeli in Jaffa City. Before I left Israel, I took a day to tour the seminal Holocaust museum in Jerusalem, Yad Vashem. It was transformative.
On the flight back to Newark International, an older couple from New Jersey and I talked about how much we already missed Israel — after just a few hours in the air. When I got back to Chicago, I felt the need once again to wear something that expressed my pride and love for Israel and my Jewish heritage. I realized that I didn’t really wear rings, so I had a jeweler melt the one from Jaffa down and fashion it into a Star of David.
I wore that silver Star for about the next 20 years, at which point I just felt more comfortable without anything on me. No watch, necklace, nothing. It just felt easier. Simpler.
And then Oct. 7 happened; horrors that were at once astonishing to watch and yet all-too-believable. And I felt so helpless. Jews the world over felt furious and helpless. On Oct. 8, I canceled a vacation I was scheduled to take to Costa Rica a week later. I pulled out my silver necklace and Star of David and clasped it back around my neck.
I couldn’t serve with the brave IDF soldiers whose lives were now at risk defending their country (yet again). And I couldn’t be in Israel to comfort any of my friends whose worlds had just been turned upside down (yet again) .
All I could do was write about it, donate some dollars, and show a bit of solidarity. The Star was outward solidarity:
“That’s right. I’m Jewish. If you’re one of the morons — deal.”
The Star of David is a symbol and motif that has a rich background. It was used for different purposes at different times throughout history. The Star began playing a more prominent role as the emblem of the Jewish people in 1897, when it became the official symbol of the First Zionist Congress in Basle, Switzerland.
During World War I, the Star’s identity was further ingrained when it marked the coffins of Jewish soldiers who’d fought and died. Tragically, the Star’s association was then desecrated by the Nazis in World War II when they used it as an ethnic marker for every living European Jew — whom they planned to exterminate.
When the Zionist dream was realized in 1948 and Jews finally returned to their homeland, the State of Israel adopted a national flag with the azure colored Star smack dab in the middle. Game, set, and match.
We all hope that this calamitous conflict triggered on Oct. 7 will end soon. And I hope against hope that it’s the last one I will see.
But either way, for the rest of my life, regardless of what crucibles and obstacles the Jewish people confront, I doubt this Star will ever leave my skin again. Yes, it is just a symbol. But symbols can be powerful.
MICHAEL GOLDEN is the Editor-In-Chief of JEWDICIOUS and The Golden Mean.
From navigating the nuances of family and relationships to unpacking history and politics to finding the human angle on sports and entertainment — plus our unsparing take on what’s happening in the Jewish world — the canvas at JEWDICIOUS is limitless!
I can relate. I was given a Chai on a heart on the day I was born, a star later (maybe my sweet 16?), and a Hamsa from my husband for a birthday or anniversary early on in our relationship -- all gold, so I too didn't even think of wearing them for decades. Then with October 7th I felt precisely the same way ("got a problem with this?" and also "this is who I proudly am"), so I put all three on a chain together, along with a small heart and now a charm in the shape of Israel that I just bought in Savanna GA from one of the oldest synagogues in the US, and I wear it most days. Brings comfort, feels like unity and support, and is a quiet but outward commentary.
My children both started wearing the Star of David in their teens. It's been a bit off and on since then but I hope my necklace encourages more on than off.
Thank you for sharing your story.
I wore a mezzanine in high school, despite my mother's objections. After Oct. 7, I got a new Star of David, which I wear with the tag for bringing back the hostages. So far, people have been supportive of that message. The chain for the dogtag broke so until the new one comes, it's just the little gold star every day.