I had been back in America for less than three days when I walked into MetLife Stadium, still half living on Tel Aviv time. My twin sister and I grew up on Ed Sheeran’s music and spontaneously decided to purchase concert tickets that morning.

“Listen, there’s one thing,” she warned me, “Macklemore is opening, but we’ll just get there after.” It didn’t even need to be a conversation. I knew what she meant.

As we entered MetLife Stadium, I was struck by the size. I was used to the bustle of Tel Aviv, but I’d forgotten the sheer American grandiosity of stadiums (and beverages). The first thing I noticed walking through the metal detectors was how different this felt. In Israel, security at a concert isn’t just background noise you tune out. It’s a mental checklist you run without meaning to: exits, distance to the nearest shelter, who’s standing too close to the barrier. Nova taught an entire generation of Israelis to always keep our guard up.

When I saw my first keffiyeh, my internal warning system snapped to attention. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that in New Jersey, I had the luxury of not needing to equate a concert with a terrorist attack.

I honestly hadn’t given the whole Macklemore controversy much thought. As we entered the stadium, I was forced to confront it. The years since Oct. 7th have been the most difficult of my life. I couldn’t stand to hear Macklemore shout “Free Palestine,” not because I inherently disagree with the notion, but because I am still........

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