Why I wear my controversial kippa

For many years now, I've worn a kippa embroidered with the flags of both Israel and Palestine. I guess you know that by now, after I got detained last week for wearing that kippa.

But you don't really know why I wear it.

My kippa has led me into fascinating and hopeful conversations, including with right-wingers who disagree with me on more or less everything, but, because of the kippa, have struck up conversations. We've shaken hands and parted while agreeing to disagree, but after engaging in the kind of debate that's sorely lacking in most other contexts in this country.

My kippa has been a powerful symbol for Palestinian Israelis, including one time when a Palestinian cashier at my local supermarket approached me in the middle of the dairy aisle and said, "Thank you on behalf of all us." Another time, the guy fixing my flat tire noticed it and actually began crying.

When a kippa leads to a handshake from a religious Jew who had never had a serious conversation with a left-winger, and to a Palestinian car mechanic breaking down in tears, it's got to be doing something right.

I get three broad categories of response to the kippa:

1. Are you out of your mind? / It's hilul hashem – blasphemy. / Those people all want to kill us.
2. Kol hakavod – way to go. / Can I take a photo of your head to share with my friend? / That's amazing.
3. What's that other flag, Costa Rica?

Walking around with a kippa on isn't easy, wherever you are. In the Diaspora, it marks you as a Jew from 50 yards away, which was (for me, at least) uncomfortable before October 7 and is perhaps verging on reckless these days.