Besties… this one hurts. Like, deep-in-your-chest, can’t-scroll-past-it hurts.
What was supposed to be a night of light — literally Hanukkah, the holiday about hope surviving darkness — turned into absolute horror on Sydney’s Bondi Beach. Families. Kids. Grandparents. Candles. Songs. And then gunfire. At least eleven people killed. Dozens more wounded. A Jewish celebration deliberately targeted, on the first night of Hanukkah, in one of Australia’s most iconic public spaces.
And let’s be very clear: this wasn’t random. This wasn’t chaos. This was antisemitism. Full stop. The Prime Minister called it what it is — terrorism fueled by hate — and he’s right. When people show up with guns to a Jewish holiday event, that’s not politics, that’s centuries-old hatred wearing a modern mask.
And yet — in the middle of all this darkness — there was light. Real, human, goosebumps-inducing bravery. An ordinary guy. No uniform. No weapon. Just instinct and courage. He ran toward a gunman while bullets were still flying and disarmed him with his bare hands. Let that sink in. That man didn’t hesitate. He didn’t think about going viral. He thought about saving lives. Police and leaders have said it plainly: people are alive today because of him. That is what a hero looks like. No cape. Just guts.
But here’s the part that breaks me the most: the Jewish community knows this story too well. This isn’t new. This isn’t isolated. From pogroms in Europe, to Kristallnacht in Nazi Germany, to the Tree of Life synagogue shooting in Pittsburgh, to attacks in Paris, Halle, Jerusalem — and now Bondi Beach — the pattern is painfully familiar. Jews gather peacefully. Jews celebrate life. Jews are targeted anyway.
And every time, the world says, “Never again,” while Jewish communities are forced to grieve again. To explain again. To mourn again.
This attack didn’t just shatter a celebration — it shattered a sense of safety. Bondi Beach isn’t supposed to feel like a battlefield. Australia isn’t supposed to feel like this. But antisemitism doesn’t care about geography. It doesn’t care about gun laws. It only needs permission to grow — and silence gives it exactly that.
So yes, we honor the heroes. The brave civilian. The police who ran into danger. The people who helped strangers while terrified themselves. But we also sit with the grief. With the crying families. With a community that was celebrating light and ended the night in mourning.
Hanukkah teaches that even a small flame can push back enormous darkness. The Jewish community has lived that truth for thousands of years. They shouldn’t have to keep proving it through tragedy.
This wasn’t just an attack on Jewish Australians. It was an attack on humanity. And if we don’t say that out loud — clearly, loudly, unapologetically — then history has a way of repeating itself. And besties… we’ve seen where that leads.
XOXO,
Valley Girl News
Mourning, angry, and refusing to look away.
