As an American Jew–particularly as one who wears a kippah [a Jewish ritual head-covering]–I have a complicated relationship to white privilege. Like many Jews, at some level I don’t feel white; for 2,000 years or so Jews have been living scattered throughout the world, constantly being told that we are not Germans, we are not Arabs, that we are not insiders, but instead the consummate outsider. This continues to be true in much of the world today. But it’s not true in the United States. In the United States, Jews have been welcomed into the middle class as full members of American society. Unlike in Europe, in the United States Jews are considered “white people.” Jewish history may have imbued a sense within me that doesn’t feel white, but undoubtedly I greatly benefit from white privilege.

Unlike Americans of color, my grandparents were able to get government backed mortgages, buy houses and begin to accumulate wealth. This meant that my parents went to well-funded public schools where there was no question as to whether they were going to college.

Unlike Americans of color, when I walk down the street no one treats me as a threat or gives me uncomfortable glances. Unlike Americans of color, when I walk into a department store, the clerks are eager to serve me, and don’t follow me around like a suspect.

Unlike Americans of color, when I apply for a job I don’t worry that my Jewish sounding name on my resume will result in me not getting an interview.

Unlike Americans of color, when I interact with the police, I am never worried that what I say or how I act might result in violence against me.

It is somewhere between ironic and appropriate given the tragedies in Jewish history, that in the Jewish Bible the most commonly repeated commandment–more than not killing, anything dealing with sexuality, or even the laws of the Sabbath–is some variation on “you shall not oppress the stranger, the orphan or the widow, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” It is a powerful idea, because it is exactly the opposite of what human nature is. By our very nature humans pass on the evil that we experience to others: children who experience abuse in the home are significantly more likely to themselves become abusers; those who are bullied often become the next generation of bullies. This commandment from the Bible is the opposite: we may not oppress because we ourselves were once oppressed! The bad that happens to us doesn’t excuse our own bad behavior, but instead obligates us to prevent that bad from ever happening to others.

Those of us in the United States who won the genetic lottery and are beneficiaries of white privilege shouldn’t feel guilty about this. Privilege, by its very nature, is not something that you can choose for yourself. But Judaism teaches that we mustn’t forget that we too were once strangers in the land, and as such we are obligated to use privilege when we have it toward the benefit of those who lack it. Benefiting from white privilege doesn’t make us racists; however, not recognizing our privilege and not working to eliminate it does.

Rabbis Daniel and Karen Bogard are the rabbis of Congregation Anshai Emeth, the oldest and largest Jewish community in the Peoria area.