Today, the Campaign Against Antisemitism podcast released a brand new episode in which they interviewed me about the personal impact of my advocacy. I was encouraged that the questions veered in that direction because it's rare that there's an opportunity to expand on the challenges to this work; hurdles that are far more solitary and private and that sometimes feel at odds with the quest to inspire other Jews and allies to take up the cause.
In the episode I discussed – at length – my piece 'The Social Media Pogrom' from May 2021, and the scene around me when I wrote it; the increased isolation I felt due to ideological tribalism, and my new position on the fringes of everyone's social circles while also losing so much of my business. The out-of-control response to my advocacy during the war with Hamas last Spring was a lot to take on, and in truth I think I'm still dealing with it.
“The strange thing had started to happen during the war where people had adopted a hate name for me online. I talk about it in the article, and when the article came out I had bashed the hornet's nest. My hate name was trending on Twitter. Eve Fartlow was the #2 trend nationwide in America that entire afternoon and evening. Since the article came out I've had to mute that term on my feed and my Instagram comments. But I know that in my life that is something that follows me around forever. There are Tumblr pages dedicated to this. There are famous YouTubers who have made video posts about my hate name. That band Eve6 – the '90s band – their name on Twitter is still even now 'Eve6 Fartlow' instead of Eve6. The woke hammer-and-sickle leftist extremist Twitter users have turned this into almost a meme. That completely changed the landscape of being online for me. In terms of recognition, I'm recognized most days when I go out now. It really did change my life. When your profile rises because of something like that, it's out of your control.”
I was asked to talk about the effects this had on my mental health:
“It ebbs and flows. On the whole I put up an affronted, and assured, and unapologetic stance as regards this, and I fight on, and I am never silenced by it. I don't cower to it, and I see that as my responsibility to the community because I did stick my head up above the parapet and I do view myself as a leader even though maybe a year ago I wouldn't have said that. I was a reticent leader. I have a modicum of responsibility as regards how you carry yourself in those moments, because if I can't show strength and fortitude then I cannot convey messages to other Jewish people that they should feel empowered despite what's happening all around us. I have to set an example.
However, it has ebbed and flowed and there have been moments when I thought to myself – Oh god, is my life over? Am I now just a hate name? And what is this viral hatred of me online reducing me to? People don't see you as a person any more. They see you as this thing they have an idea of. And people who were your “friends” – they stop seeing you as a person and run away from you. The amount of people who abandoned me in that moment and who have never come back to me, it speaks volumes about how humanity has been manipulated and disaffected by social media. These are people who know me, know my heart, and have spent so much time with me. Because I became this virally hated public figure, they decided in that moment to cut ties because it looked bad on them to be associated with me. Despite the fact that it wasn't really saying anything about me. And there isn't a word of truth in the libels attached to it – that I'm some kind of blood-thirsty, hate-mongering, extreme far right neo-Nazi, land-thieving, genocide-loving, ethnic cleansing apologist. There's no truth to that at all, but living with that day in day out, living with really seeing the extremes in other people… You become a mirror for other people's extreme reactions and that introspection can be quite a lot to bear. Seeing the real ugliness of human beings launched at you is a lot to take in, especially when you've been isolated and ex-communicated. As a result of it, you spend a lot more time in your own thoughts.
Among other topics, we discussed the intersection of my queer identity with my Jewish identity and my refusal to keep begging an LGBTQ+ world who has made a mission of policing our Jewishness for a seat at a table when we can just build our own queer space in the Jewish world. To that, I was asked: Do you feel a sense of betrayal?
“Of course. Absolutely. That's one of the deepest things I feel. I feel it all the time, but I try not to focus on it too much, because I don't want to wind up as someone who walks through life with a chip on their shoulder. I've never been that person. I believe in people, and I have to maintain that belief in people, and I have to maintain the belief that things are going to change. It can be powerful to be angry but it's not as powerful as being proud of who you are. I prefer to focus on the people who haven't betrayed me and the people who see what I'm doing and who understand the power of it, and who are impacted by it. It's more important.”
To listen to the full episode click here:
There are no words..your perseverance is amazing
I thank you for your continued bravery in the face of the hatred from a world that expects--no, make that DEMANDS--obedience to its anti-Israel/anti-Semitic agenda. Please know that there are many of us who very much appreciate your outspoken advocacy on behalf of our faith in general and Israel in particular. And as for the execrable Linda Sarsour, well, to be blunt, who gives a f-ck what she thinks?