I was just nine years old when I learned about the Holocaust. I sat crossed-legged on white shag carpeting, looking up at my mother as she told me about the suffering, the murder, and the human ashes that piled like snow on the sides of the roads outside concentration camps. It was as if my DNA changed. Subconsciously, I understood that the fate of all Jews intertwined. 

While I was raising my children and working in Hollywood as an entertainment attorney and then creative executive-turned-writer/producer, I wanted to believe that the dark cloud of antisemitism had finally passed over us. I was wrong…