As my tired, blue eyes follow the screen, I scroll through my Twitter feed. Article upon article catch my attention - Headlines read,"Clouded By Accusations Of Anti-Semitism, The Women's March Loses Ground", "Women's March Leaders Made Anti-Semitic Comments to Fellow Founder", "Anti-Semitism Concerns Leave Women's Marches Scrambling for Messages of Unity", and "Women's March Leader says White Jews 'uphold white supremacy' ", to name a few. My head aches already from the hours of school work I just completed, and now a pit in my sensitive stomach begins to form. With each article I read, my temper builds and my mind begins to play tug-of-war. I do not want to keep reading these articles, but I cannot stop. I'd much rather be going to bed right now.

       I try to understand - to knock sense into what I am reading, but I cannot. Internally, I am struggling. I am a Jewish Woman. I am not one over the other. I am not Jewish and a Woman - I am a Jewish Woman. Being a woman is just as important to me as being Jewish. I am not one or the other, but rather, both, concurrently: I am a Jewish Woman.

       I am an advocate for women's rights just as I am an advocate for Zionism as well as my religion. When reading these headlines, I feel more and more disturbed. I feel stuck and I feel sick. I feel as if I must choose one over the other: my identity as a woman or my identity as a Jewish individual.  I am in an uncomfortable position - the pit in my stomach grows larger.

       I think to myself, "How can I support a movement whose leaders don't welcome Jewish Women?"  This is incomprehensible. My thoughts churn, yet it still doesn't make sense. This situation infuriates me. Rage builds up inside of me - my hands clammy, and my mind dazed. The Women's March is supposed to be women of all races, ethnicities, religions, and backgrounds coming together to fight for women's rights. I sit here, however, phone in hand, educating myself and trying to accept the unfortunate reality: I cannot support The Women's March. As long as their leaders are involved with anti-semitism and anti-zionism, I refuse to march under the name of their movement. Furthermore, a movement that openly supports and gives a platform to someone like Louis Farrakhan, an outwardly anti-semitic and homophobic political figure, is surely not a community I want to be apart of.

       What now? I ask myself. Now that you've decided that you do not support The Women's March, what will you do? Oh, there are so many things I want to do. I want to yell, I want to scream, but I do neither - instead, I begin to cry. I feel powerless. I feel helpless. I am just another high school girl, sitting in her bedroom, scrolling through Twitter, as tear drops cluster on my screen.

       I want to be a part of it, I want to be a part of it all. With every opportunity this world has to offer, I want to feel welcomed as me - a Jewish Woman. I want to feel welcomed without fear of rejection or backlash - without having to tuck my Jewish star necklace inside my shirt.

       But, how can I do so when all I do now is question their intentions - the motive of groups, organizations, movements, marches, rallies, clubs, and leaders? The remarks made by The Women's March leaders are inherently hypocritical and contradictory to its mission. I wonder how many other movements and people also portray this insincere falsity. This thought frightens me. Have I been so naive to just believe what I am told? Has my oblivion reached new heights to where I no longer doubt or question? Have I refused to accept that anti-semitism is real? Perhaps I failed to see this reality as a child, as my innocence then was much greater than anything else. Could it be that I am now  finally beginning to see clearly - to see the world beyond innocence - the raw, real, truth? The violence, hate, and malice of others?

       It's a crazy thing - growing up. What is even crazier is how we see the world when we are young children: simply through nursery rhymes and cartoon characters. But, what's even crazier, is growing up only to realize this: you, your parents, your grandparents, and your great-grandparents have and will experience discrimination solely because of your status as a minority.

       This is the raw truth. There is no way to argue against its validity. I accept it - we all must accept that it is real. However, we are capable of working to diminish it - to stand up for our religion and our people. To stand up, and speak out for the courageous soldiers in the Israel Defense Forces, and to remember each victim affected by the Holocaust--both Jewish and non-Jewish alike. As minority groups, it is our responsibility - our mission - to use our voices to uplift those without power. For every one of the six million Jews perished, I use my voice for you. I use my voice for those who got theirs stripped away from them. I use my voice to make it known that we, the Jewish people, are here. I am only just starting to understand the immense power and strength that comes with being a human. I am just starting to see that I am resilient, and that I am bold.

       Whether you like it or not - wherever I go, I am Jewish. Whatever I do, I am Jewish. Whoever I am with, I am Jewish. And, I am not just a Jewish Woman, but I am a proud Jewish Woman. In fact, I am a bold Jewish Woman. I am not choosing one over the other - to be Jewish or to be a woman. I refuse to let my identity pull me back and shield me from my greatest potential. It doesn't cause me fear. I am fearless. Instead, my identity empowers me - it is me.

       Everyday, I wear a ring engraved with the Hebrew phrase, "גַּם זֶה יַעֲבֹר", which translates  to, "this too shall pass" - reminding me that nothing is permanent. It is with that phrase, those three Hebrew words, that I wear upon my finger, that push me to go against the current - to fight, to advocate, and to speak up against anti-semitism and all forms of bigotry - to speak up for what I know is right and just. I speak for my people - for the ones brutally murdered simply because their birth certificate said "Jewish". I use my voice to restore justice to those who did not get any. I walk on Earth's surface, forming my own opinions and holding the grand responsibility I put on myself: I was born a Jewish Woman, but now I choose to be a bold Jewish Woman. Join me.