By Rabbi Rachel Esserman

“That’s exactly why the Jews didn’t leave Germany.” That comment was made by a friend who is so upset with the political situation in our country that she is planning ways to leave the United States, including looking for employment that would allow her to work completely remotely so she could apply for a work visa and move to Europe. She made the above comment after I noted how difficult it would be for me – an older single woman – to move from the United States. I didn’t mention how my hearing impairment would create difficulties (I have enough trouble understanding English, let alone a new language), the difficulty of learning that new language or the idea of being completely alone and isolated in a foreign country.
The fact that we had this discussion the week before Passover struck me as ironic when I read Marge Piercy’s poem “Maggid” during one of the seders I attended. That poem celebrates those Jews who were willing to move from the homes and graves of loved ones into an unknown future. But I see our current situation as far more complex than does my friend.
First, we need to clarify what happened in Germany: according to the Holocaust Encyclopedia, around 282,000 Jews did leave Germany. Unfortunately, many of them went to other European countries that were then conquered by Nazi Germany during World War II. Many of the Jews who died in the Holocaust were not actually German, but citizens of lands across Europe – from France to the Soviet Union and south to Mediterranean Sea. Yes, my friend is correct, though, that not everyone left. Some thought the madness would stop. 
If we follow my friend’s line of reasoning about the dangers we may face, then why does she think U.S. companies will be allowed to employ those who no longer live within our borders? If the current administration wants to change our economy so U.S. citizens will have to buy all American products, why will it be willing to allow American currencies to be sent to other countries? If that happens, she will not only not have a job, but will lose her work visa, leaving her as much a refugee as those Jews who left Germany. Plus, what would stop the government from forbidding those who live elsewhere to receive bank funds, pensions and Social Security? If her nightmare version of our future is true, then she needs to think about what else could happen, especially if enough people leave the country. 
However, when thinking about her comment, I realized my reason for not wanting to leave included something greater than what I listed above: I am not ready to give up on the Great American Experiment. Perhaps it’s because I am older and have seen demonstrations and marches for the Civil Rights Movement and protests against the Vietnam War. I grew up reading books given to me by my father about the Labor Movement and the fight for an eight-hour work day and decent working conditions. I know the U.S. is far from perfect, but I dream that maybe someday our country will live up to its ideals. I am no Pollyanna or utopianist: the U.S. will never be perfect. We will always have to fight for our rights; we can never let our guard down. But if we don’t fight, then we are letting that dream die. 
That means I am willing to risk my future for that dream. Maybe that’s easier for me to do because I’m older than my friend. Maybe it’s easier because I have less to lose. But this country has sheltered my relatives for three generations and I owe it something, as imperfect and awful as it can and has been at its worst. I have no problem with those whose choice is to leave, but I hope they’ll understand why I won’t.