My Yarmulke is a Protest: Real Stuff with David

by David Kilimnick

I've got to tell you about this. I never knew the power of my Yarmulke till this open mic. I thought my Yarmulke was supposed to remind me about Gd. I didn't know it was supposed to get other people mad.

The Story
I sat down at the bar and ordered a Diet Coke on the rocks. I'm not a loser.

This young girl was performing her piece at the open mic in Buffalo. She was old enough to know that Jews should be killed. She had been to college. She had Jewish professors. And she had traveled to France, so she knew about Israel.
As part of her piece she was going off on the "genocide of the Palestinian people." I sat there shocked. Who are these Palestinian people she speaks of? Who was doing this to these Palestinian people? I must stop them. Now. I had just shared laughs with some Arabs in Israel. I am assuming some of them identify as Palestinians. I would hope nobody is doing anything to them. But she was adamant that there was a genocide going on somewhere.
I didn't know if that was part of the song or not. There was no music accompaniment. Maybe it was one of those music storyteller shows where they leave out the music. They get so excited about the story and they forget it's a concert. And she was really getting into this story. She started talking about Israelis being the devil. She was very passionate about that.
I was trying to figure out what she was talking about. And I couldn't figure out how to respond. Everybody loves a good story. What am I going to do? Start yelling at her for her creativity? Shake her up and mess up the story? Maybe she was speaking about the genocide of the Palestinians that lived 4,000 years ago; the start of the Palestinian people and their documented history as a state.

She started speaking of this utopian society where women could frolic and get raped. And finally, rape would be supported. There would be no more judgment of the beheading of little children. A paradise where genocide would finally be defined as defending one's people against enemies who are trying to murder everyone in their nation. She was speaking of a Messianic Palestinian time of redemption. It was a beautiful story, delivered with emotion and tears, setting up the song "Zombie," written in support of the Palestinian people who had to deal with the ruthless British in Ireland. Everybody clapped. The story was amazing. How she intertwined the need to kill all Jews in the utopia which was Palestinian Ireland. It was brilliant. To be honest, I think I even clapped. It was the most creative story. Innovative, ingenious, original.
At least now I knew where the Palestinian genocide was happening. In Ireland.
The story was brilliant, but I felt for those who identify as Palestinian. Did they really feel rape was fine? And she continued with "the day of joy when Jews were dragged through the streets and finally burned. A day in which cheers were had by all." She left some of that part out. Her friends were disappointed. They were hoping for more of the story of Satan the Jew. They wanted to hear more of this utopian ridding of the Jews, as the crowd were pacifists and believed in love of all.
So, she cried for the twelve million reported Gazan deaths and went into the song.

How Do I Respond
My Jewish side and love of my nation and people kicked in. I thought this was wrong, even if it was a story. If you're going to tell a story, tell it correctly. I was bothered she didn't throw the Black Plague into this. If she was going to tell this story with any facts, she would've mentioned how Jews make it a point of drinking blood. Which is Kosher if it's from nonJewish children and Shechted just right.

I didn't know if I could argue against stuff that doesn't exist. I simply sat there, took off my winter hat, and there was my Kippah.
She finished her song on behalf of the Cranberries who wrote it for the Palestinian people of Ireland and everybody clapped. Cheers were heard throughout the streets of Buffalo. "What a piece. The Palestinians of Gaza should be allowed their Gd given right to behead toddlers and burn them with pride. It's their tradition and the Jewish people of Israel have the Chutzpah to try to stop it. Genocide!!! They're committing genocide. Why do the Israelis have an issue with Hamas using their own children in a war? They're their children. Should not all soldiers be protected by their children???" And the story somehow turned real.
That last line was good. You felt that.

They Were Offended
Taking to the cheers and claps she looked to the side and saw me sitting there, with my Kippah. My presence offended all. I killed the brilliant rendition of the Cranberries. No. It was my Kippah. My Kippah was screaming at them and they were offended. The Kippah. That Chutzpan.

Open mic girl's hatred for me was felt. I went to the bathroom and as I came back, with my Kippah still on my head, her friends went to check on her. They saw my Kippah and they were bothered that nobody knocked it off.
Her and all of her friends were having talks about me. "Did he approach you?" They wanted to know if I hit on her. Another act of genocide.
She responded, "No. But his Yarmulke did. And his Yarmilke had a whole lot to say. Perched there, arguing with me. The audacity of the Yarmulke. It even said that his people only want peace and to protect the innocent lives. His Yarmulke told me the Israeli army even knocks on doors and tries to protect the non-terrorist Palestinians who want to kill his people, by letting them know they have to attack the area. Chutzpah. Knocking on doors."

Before I got up for my piece she asked the MC, "Is he going up." And then she ran out with her friends. Crying. "How can they let a Jew sing?! This is America. I thought this was the land of freedom and acceptance. I hate this country."

She was offended by my Kippah. She saw my Kippah and she couldn't argue against it. My Kippah made the bar a not safe space. The presence of the Yarmulke made the bar non-inclusive.
I was thus quarantined to sit at the bar alone. They almost kicked me out, as my Kippah was arguing too much, and very loudly. Quite disruptive. 
Thank Gd, they didn't kick me out. They were going to kick out my Kippah, but my Kippah didn't break any rules. It just said that Jews are a good, kind and caring people, that hate having to go to war and defend against terror.
Kippahs can be very loud. Especially, the Bucharian ones.

My Performance
When they all left, I asked her friend with the Kafeya, "Is it because I'm Jewish?... You don't have to leave because I'm Jewish. I know we can't dance." He smiled. I didn't know where he stood, as he was wearing his Kafeya on his shoulders. I didn't know if that was an American tradition or or an Arab tradition. It seems like most American college students wear Kafeyas on their shoulders. A style thing.
I know it's not an Arab tradition to wear the Kafeya on the head. Maybe it's a Middle Eastern tradition to wear the Kafeya as a shawl when the weather gets really cold in Ireland. That's probably where it started.

I was amazed at the protest against me and my people in a small bar in Buffalo, New York. But I wore that Kippah with pride and sung some songs about people getting along. "Sing along, even if you're Christian. Be happy that you come from a Jew. Because Gd might love you too. Because you come from a Jew. Sing along, even if you're Muslim. Be happy that you believe in one Gd too. Because Gd might love you too. If you know a Jew..." Peace was the message, and the few sitting there turned into lovers of all. Not lovers of terrorists. Lovers of people. Gd might love them too now.
And they all sung and clapped for me. Everybody except for the Zombie and her friends. They were outside crying that Jews are allowed to sing. In solidarity of all humans, they wanted the Jew out. She wanted to get rid of the Israeli.
In her defense, I was occupying a seat at the bar.

Notes
When I got back from the bathroom, I didn't drink my Diet Coke. I am aware of what story time can do to your drink when you're wearing a Kippah.
I did introduce my songs of peace with, "I will not create any new definitions of genocide. Nor will I talk about genocide. Such as the Armenian genocide, perpetrated by the Young Turks." I am guessing she got her story from story time with Cenk Uygur of The Young Turks. I had one of those moments of political brilliance and little knowledge. You can share that with your friends.

Postscript About the Kippah
The Kippah is a real buzz killer. There was somebody sitting there with a Yarmulke, killing the performance. It bothered them so much that, because of Israel, they couldn't defile him and burn him at a bar in Buffalo.
If the bouncer was doing his job, he would've kicked out the Kippah. Yarmulkes are loud. They yell, “I am still here.” And that is offensive to anti-Semites.

Now I know why I wear a Kippah. And that is to piss people off.