Hamas victims Ariel and Kfir Bibas could've been me, or maybe you

What if it were me? What if I were not born in New York City, but in Nir Oz? Not 2002, but in 2022? 

From the first time I saw the photos of Ariel and Kfir Bibas, I couldn't help but imagine them as my brother and me. And not just because of our red hair: We were about the same ages apart and we practiced the same Judaism.

During his time in captivity, there was a glimmer of hope that Yarden Bibas' wife and two children would one day come home. Despite knowing the story of the Shem Tov family and countless others that prove the barbarity of Hamas, there was a small feeling that they might have the chance to grow up - like I did.

It wasn't just our hair that made me feel a connection - slowly, as more photos came out, I realized there was much more in common. We had all dressed up as Batman. We had the same stuffed animals. We had the same smiles and laugh. And so I kept wondering, what if it had been me? 

Yes they would have. Hamas and their global supporters would have done the exact same to my family and me if they had the chance. 

Now I can't see their baby photos without seeing my own, and I can't see my own without seeing them. Neither should you.

The next time you hear chanting in the streets, see people ripping down hostage posters, or see people trying to intimidate Jews - imagine it was you and your immediate family. 

If you were waiting for a time to educate your friends, it has come. If you were waiting for a time to support Israel, it is here. If you were waiting for a time to call out Hamas's barbarity, to push back against antisemitism, or speak up, it is now.

This article was adapted from Noah Rubin's speech at the University of Pennsylvania Hillel's memorial for Ariel, Kfir, and Shiri Bibas and Oded Lifshitz.