I have had things hurled my way a million times - Kike, f-ing jew, you name it (not to mention the occasional pennies). The few times that stand out (only because I vividly remember them):
- In middle school, I was chased by a gang of kids towards the city bus stop on the way home from school. (Bensonhurst)
- At least twice, I'd shown up for interviews where a 'Saturday' job requirement miraculously appeared that wasn't mentioned in the job ad or phone screen
- In HS, we were playing on our local public school court and were told - only one team of jews at time. One of the frum guys playing was falling out of bounds lobbed the ball at one of the non-jewish guys cojones, and hit a bullseye - the police were ultimately called.
- I was walking in the street in Flatbush the week of the Baruch Goldstein incident, and as I passed by a group of what appeared to be arabs, one of them shouted - 'don't shoot!'
Of course, these are all miniscule by comparison to my friends who lived through the Crown Heights riots and then some.
I often talk to colleagues about Jewish fear. I worked in a nice part of Connecticut for a while, in a town that had a longstanding 'No Dogs, no jews' reputation. I'd never run with my Yarmulka (either a hat or bandana) and I'd always worry about getting stopped or arrested.
