I experience privilege on a daily basis. The institutional systems in the United States are such that I fit nearly every advantaged mold, and yet one identifier has always kept me slightly distanced from experiencing exclusive privilege: my Judaism.

Life in the United States is created to fit a European Christian mindset. Ethically, legally, and spiritually, the overwhelming 83 percent of Americans who identify as Christian in some way or another have cornered the market on faith, and as such there is a palpable bias in our nation. Sensing my difference can come in small gusts like breezes, every time I am asked to write the word g-d on paper and won’t, every allusion to the King James Bible that glides over my head in English class is yet another reminder of my otherness. Other times, it comes in sharp blows like when I get asked if I killed Jesus or if I’m putting the nose job on daddy’s black card and if my family picked that last name Gold at Ellis Island because “Jews love money, you know?” This is when I am violently shaken from my selective comfort and forced to confront the truth; “I am other.” I have no way to hide from the fact that some people in this world are Antisemitic, and want me to suffer and perhaps even die, and think I am worse than them for no other reason than which Testament I subscribe to.

And then there are days when I revel in my privilege. When police officers politely remind me to turn my blinker on, and store clerks help me find the perfect outfit trusting I can pay and won’t steal anything. Days when I can be confident meeting new people and discussing adult topics because I have an educational background that has prepared me well for such situations. Days when I get kudos and crowns for nothing more than being born into the right family.

So where does that put me? It’s hard to say. Arguments of “I know what it’s like to be discriminated against! One time someone called me evil for not celebrating Christmas!” lose their poignancy when the girl making them still got plenty of gifts for Chanukka. Does it mean my feelings are invalid? No. So what does it mean?

Antisemitism lies at the precarious crossroad of “incredibly harmful” and “entirely disregarded.” Jewish people have been systemically oppressed consistently throughout history as well as in modern culture, and yet Jews themselves are often considered oppressors. The Black Lives Matter movement denounced Zionism (and no matter how much people say this is separate from denouncing Jews, one must concede that the two don’t exactly exist in vacuums), despite the overwhelming truth of Jewish individuals being allies of the African American community since the civil rights movement, including being counted as having a disproportionate role in Freedom Rides and Marching in Selma, as well as serving as founders and funders on the NAACP and the Southern Christian Leadership. Simultaneously, Conservatives will still chant Jew-S-A at a Trump rally in the context of both corrupt banking and corrupt media. Minorities denounce us for our white privilege, and the majority consider us minorities. No one wants us. It is disenfranchisement in its purest form.

Additionally, Jews arguably have a model minority status. The model minority trope classifies certain minorities as high achieving, upwardly mobile groups of individuals who have utilized the American system adeptly and as such have gained certain perks usually reserved for the majority. This ideology breeds stereotypes such as “high achieving Asian immigrants” and “Indian technology geniuses.” Along with the Asian community, Jews have fallen victim to the model minority trope time and time again. The caricature of the Jewish banker in Manhattan sporting an elite, upper echelon education and hungry for financial gain isn’t inherently antisemitic, and at its base level might seem logical. Non-Jewish groups will claim this is a positive, and true, stereotype, exemplifying the positives of successful assimilation. The problematic elements seep in when American society is searching for a scapegoat. The media and the banks are always the first to be blamed in times of distress, and who has the American public pegged as the puppet-masters of these industries? The Jews. It’s also a wildly simplistic classification of the Jewish People. When the entire world paints Jews as an arrogant, financially inclined, upper-class group, all Jews suffer, as well as getting a doubly impactful layer of disenfranchisement for those Jews that don’t fit that mold. How is one supposed to handle being rejected by every community because of their identity, only to find that they don’t fit into their own either?

The issue is wildly nuanced. On the one hand, Jews are an invisible minority. On the other hand, that seems to render our plight invisible as well. While America is certainly centered around Eurocentric beauty standards, it might be beneficial to add the addendum of Western-European beauty standards, of which most Ashkenazi Jews do no benefit, as well as the 20% of the global Jewish population that ethnically identifies in a category other than white. These layers of implication go regularly overlooked when analyzing the dilemma of the Jewish community. It is rare to find an intersection approach to the plight of the Jewish.

And then there is the other side of the incredibly complicated coin. Lots of Jews benefit from white privilege. Lots of Jews fit perfectly into the stereotypes of our people. What does that mean? What it means is that we are obligated to help those other disenfranchised peoples in America and abroad. For many Jewish people, there are existing systems of privilege that we have access to. Bottom-up movements are good, but it’s undeniable that an insider advantage always helps.

My life has dealt me a plethora of winning cards. Still, there will always be a losing hand, and mine lies with my faith. Insults and jokes hurt, but more than anything, they ignite my passion to help those who truly experience discrimination. The people who suffer avalanches of prejudice daily while I encounter unpredictable bursts. I have been perfectly bred to stand by, with, next to, or behind, those who truly need my support. My specific intersection has given me both the empathy to understand, and the benefits to really make a difference. My one handicap is truly my greatest strength.

I sway between the pillars of guilt and justifications daily. I have been put on a pedestal made of stereotypes and false pretenses. My perspective is unique and powerful. I know how it feels to be oppressed, and how it feels to benefit from privilege. This puts me in the position of making a choice: I walk always with my privilege knowing it comes with a novel of caveats, or dismantle a system I may benefit in order to truly liberate myself and everyone else who experiences prejudice. I choose to work for true equality. I choose to live my life open about my religious identity and demand to be treated equally regardless. It is the choice we must all make.