This is a guest post from Hayley Kupinsky, a fourth year student at McMaster University, and Co-President of Hillel McMaster
If you aren’t a student, I can assume most of the stories you’ve heard about being Jewish on a university campus these days go something like this:
“The protesters disrupted our vigil for the hostages”
“A masked agitator yelled at me - ‘you’re not a real Jew’”
“I see posters with red triangles and stickers claiming our university’s President funds genocide on my walk to class”
Now, those would all be fair representations of what we are going through. In fact, those three examples are personal experiences of mine. But the lesser-known fight against antisemitism on campus isn’t as attention grabbing - no viral tweets or news stories are going out about what’s going on behind the scenes - on those Zoom calls with program administrators, or emails exchanged with professors.
These days, I find myself writing many of those emails or sitting in on those Zoom calls. My name is Hayley Kupinsky. I am a fourth year student at McMaster University studying Health Sciences. I am also a Co-President of Hillel McMaster. It is a bit surreal to write those words - just under four years ago I was near the end of my high school career at the Community Hebrew Academy of Toronto (CHAT), where I met with the then-current Hillel president (on Zoom…COVID times!), and in that moment, decided that I wanted to be exactly like her. I always admired those who took on the role - their leadership contributed to my sense of safety, and these individuals became my role models.
The magnitude of the role feels more important now, as our community is left reeling from the atrocities of October 7th, and the tension is felt acutely on our university campuses. Just a few days after my term as President officially began back in May 2024, I got a message from my Hillel Director that an encampment had begun on my campus, and I knew this wouldn’t be an ordinary year ahead.
However, the story I would like to share doesn’t come from my role as Hillel President, but rather just from being a regular student on campus. It’s the kind of story you probably haven’t heard about: disputes between Jewish students and faculty over what goes on in our classrooms, and the small wins.
Let me take you back to last semester. It was a Thursday afternoon, and I was heading into my final midterm before the February long weekend. Glancing down at my phone, I saw an email had come in from my faculty department. It was an invitation, announcing a new optional guest lecture for one of my classes. For this class, we got to choose which ‘modules’ (guest lectures) to participate in, amounting to course credit. The focus of this lecture was to be ‘grief’, but it was grief within the context of - wait for it - the conflict in the Middle East. I soon realized however that this was not a lecture welcoming to students like me.
Jewish.
Zionist.
A student who cares about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
A peaceful resolution to the Israel-Palestinian conflict, I should say.
Before we signed up to attend, we were asked to determine if the lecture would be a good fit, and the email invited us to an Instagram page to check out. The page, run by the prospective lecturer, was filled with the glorification of terror groups like Hamas and the Houthis, and included quotes like, “Globalize the Intifada.” Jews, like me, were labelled as settlers and colonizers. It went on.
Let me be clear: I was asked to assess a hateful Instagram account, to determine if I wanted to attend a lecture put on by someone who was sympathetic to terrorists, and who was biased against people like me. Asking Jewish students to self-select themselves out of attendance because the learning environment is not safe for them is inherently antisemitic.
Myself and two friends understood how serious this was - and were able to get the lecture cancelled by preparing a report outlining the antisemitic infractions of the guest lecturer and their Instagram page. However, we are left unsatisfied. While this occurred in February, I only managed to meet with the faculty responsible for this in the summer. Without recognition this was indeed antisemitism at play on campus, how can we be certain that this will not happen again?
We can’t.
But this is the question I’ve been grappling with over the summer. In meetings I’ve had with university administrators and faculty, it has become clear to me that there is a lack of understanding of what antisemitism is and how it manifests. I find myself explaining the meaning of antisemitic tropes and why they are so harmful, almost begging for validation, to be recognized as flagging a legitimate concern, rather than being reassured by those who should be ensuring my safety on campus. The need for training for our administrators and faculty on antisemitism and its modern-day manifestations has never been more important. More necessary. More obvious.
So this is what we are gearing up for this year. Many of us have had to deal with antisemitism and hostility to Israel on our campus before. Unfortunately, this isn’t new, and our community has strategies in place to ensure our physical and emotional wellbeing.
The new challenge is how brazen everything is. How open people are to siding with terrorist organizations like Hamas and Hezbollah, without fear of negative repurcussions. These new challenges require new solutions. I believe one solution, at the very least, is to equip students like me with the skills to be our own advocates to those in positions of power.
We must empower students to run in campus elections, and sit on governance boards, and their student unions, so we have allies in those spaces. In fact, one of the reasons my friends and I were able to get that lecture cancelled is because I have a friend who sat on a committee with our faculty’s Dean. This connection allowed us to get in touch with him immediately, and influence an important change that may have otherwise gone unaltered. These types of connections are imperative, and building them must be a long-term goal for our community. Decisions are made by those who show up, and our presence is mandatory.
Fortunately, I’ve been able to find the silver linings of the challenges we have been through. The way we have leaned on one another and become a tighter-knit community, the way we have welcomed Jews who were otherwise less engaged and ensured they were given a safe space, and the way we have found allies in unexpected places, has really enriched my university experience in ways I could not have imagined.
As I enter my final year, and look back on where I started as a quiet first-year student, I know stories like mine are no longer the anomaly. There are so many people working to make our campuses a safer space - students, faculty, and community members - and this doesn’t make headlines, but it is happening every day.
We have a tough year ahead of us, but I hope this gives you hope for anyone in your life who is on campus - we are going to be alright.
Students: If you have more stories about what you are currently experiencing on campus, please let us know if you’d like to share on this platform. There is a lot going on that is not being reported, and it is important to have a good sense of what is happening, and where we as a community can support you.
 | A guest post by
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Kol Hakavod, well said we need more of our voices on board. I have said that about our school trustees, we need more of us in these positions.
I went to see Michal Cotler speak yesterday and she echos your sentiments AND encourages everyone to have our institutions accept the IHRA definition of anti-semitism. This is what we can advocate for. Good luck this year. You are spectacular.