![\"Vigil\"](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/Vigil-800x600.jpg\")
In the following months, tensions on campus escalated. There was a protest for Palestine every day. Jews felt unsafe on campus. Israeli students were harassed by protestors. In solidarity, many students hung posters of hostages, only to see them torn down or graffitied. There was a point where I would avoid certain streets just to avoid seeing a picture of an Israeli child with the word \u201csatan\u201d graffitied on top. <\/p>\n\n\n
![\"243428ae](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/243428ae-31a9-4f8f-9cec-d29d9317025f-401x600.jpg\")
![\"Img](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/IMG_7456-830x600.png\")
The protests grew dangerous. Protesters occupied Hamilton Hall, renaming it \u201cHind’s Hall\u201d after a Palestinian child. Students and janitors in the building at the time were injured. It became unacceptable – racist, even – to say anything positive about Israel. Some non-observant Jews with no connection to Israel joined in denouncing it. They mocked our traditions, setting up a \u201cSha-f***ing-bat Shalom\u201d tent on the lawn. By Passover, campus was unsafe. Our rabbi advised us to stay home. Finals were canceled or shortened.<\/p>\n\n\n
![\"Screenshot\"](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/IMG_7510-456x600.jpg\")
What shook me most wasn\u2019t just the hostility from strangers. It was the silence, or rejection, from peers I\u2019d once trusted. One day, walking with a friend, a student in a keffiyeh shouted \u201cF*** you\u201d at the tiny Magen David around my neck, a piece of jewelry I hadn\u2019t thought twice about before. But I could dismiss that as childish hostility. It was harder to dismiss what happened in class.<\/p>\n\n\n
![\"Qasam\"](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/qasam-393x600.jpg\")
A week after October 7, in my ironically titled \u201cPeace Building\u201d course, the professor asked if anyone had connections to Israel. Knowing my name, she looked directly at me. I admitted quietly, \u201cI do.\u201d She offered condolences. But the students around me shifted uncomfortably, avoided my eyes, and didn\u2019t speak to me again that day.<\/p>\n\n\n
![\"Screenshot\"](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/IMG_6082-508x600.jpg\")
In another class, after pushing through a wall of protesters to arrive on time, I sat beside a friendly classmate. She sighed, \u201cI\u2019m so exhausted.\u201d When I asked why, she replied, \u201cI\u2019ve been boycotting my daily Starbucks\u2014since they support Israel.\u201d I nearly laughed at the absurdity. Here were some of the most privileged students in the world, at an Ivy League university, lamenting the burden of buying a different latte – while Israeli children hid in bomb shelters and fathers were being called back to reserves. They cosplayed as refugees, skipping classes to have a \u2018fun\u2019 day of protests with friends; we lived with real grief.<\/p>\n\n\n
![\"Screenshot\"](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/IMG_6817-526x600.jpg\")
Columbia prided itself on free exchange of ideas, but there was no dialogue left. Students with near-god complexes dismissed any opposing views as racist or Islamophobic. On Sidechat, an anonymous forum, they circulated Osama Bin Laden\u2019s \u201cLetter to America,\u201d urging others to \u201chear him out,\u201d insisting Al-Qaeda had \u201cvalid points.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
By semester\u2019s end, I felt quarantined in my apartment, the atmosphere eerily reminiscent of COVID lockdowns. My Jewish friends and I avoided campus, not only out of fear of violence, but because it was unbearable to be there. At graduation, shouts of \u201cFree Palestine\u201d rang out. Red handprints were smeared across caps, a symbol that became a token for Palestinian freedom but originated in an image of blood smeared on the hands of a Palestinian man after the lynching of two Israelis.<\/p>\n\n\n
![\"Img](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/IMG_7742-292x600.jpg\")
I looked around at my peers, the supposed future leaders of America, and knew I wanted no part in it. If these were my future leaders, if this is what my peers thought of me, I wanted out. I had always felt a connection to Israel and knew I might end up there eventually, but I decided at that moment to officially make Aliyah.<\/p>\n\n\n\n It has now been nearly a year since I made Aliyah. Moving to Israel in the middle of a war has not been easy. I\u2019ve grown used to sirens jolting me awake in the early hours of the morning, and life here comes with its own fears and challenges. Still, I do not regret my decision. In America, I had begun to feel a sense of loss; alienated from my peers, silenced in classrooms, and unwelcome on the very campus that had once promised open dialogue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Israel has not been an escape from conflict or politics; in fact, many here voice deep frustration with the government. Yet despite disagreements, there is an underlying unity, a shared understanding that binds us together in a way I never experienced in the U.S. We may argue fiercely about what the future should look like, but we are united in believing there will be one – bright, resilient, and ours. Here, among my people, I have found not just refuge, but home. It\u2019s imperfect, but it\u2019s ours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As part of the groundbreaking Bearing Witness archive, NLI is leading a special initiative to document post-October 7 experiences at North American college campuses. This project is collecting documentation about specific events and incidents, including encounters with antisemitism, as well as the broader experiences of Jewish students, faculty, and staff during this pivotal time. Collected materials also capture communal and organizational responses and the wider shifts taking place in campus life and academia. <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Materials of all forms, and from any perspective, are welcome. To date, more than 6,000 items have been gathered from over 50 campuses and organizations across the U.S. and Canada. If you have any relevant items you would like to share, please visit the Bearing Witness website<\/a> or contact Project Coordinator Abby Horowitz<\/a>.<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Ayelet Glaser was a student at Columbia University on October 7, 2023. Her experiences during the days that followed led directly to her “Aliyah” – her immigration to Israel, where she lives today. Here she shares some of what she saw, heard and felt during that life-changing period.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":546,"featured_media":181339,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[216],"tags":[1737,304,5232],"tags2":[2784,2704,3067,5231],"class_list":["post-181337","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-diaspora","tag-american-jewry","tag-antisemitism","tag-october-7"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n![\"Img](\"https:\/\/blog.nli.org.il\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/09\/IMG_7745-800x600.jpg\")