Driving to a friend’s house in Prospect Park the other day, I witnessed an amazing sight: The minute I crossed over the Williamsburg Bridge, the streets were filled with people not wearing masks. Mothers with gaggles of kids, young couples strolling, men rushing furiously to their next appointments.

And then boom: The minute I exited South Williamsburg into Bushwick, the masks reappeared on people’s faces.

I know it’s not politically correct, but as a traditional Jew, I’m going to tell you who was wearing masks and who wasn’t. In Bushwick, people of all colors were wearing masks. In South Williamsburg, most of the ultra-Orthodox Jews were not.

By the time I crossed over into Clinton Hill and Prospect Park, I was back among the masked Brooklyn gentrifiers.

After I parked my car, I noticed a young Hasid standing on the corner, holding a lulav and etrog, the ritual objects for Sukkot, the current holiday. He was trying to stop passersby with the question, “Are you Jewish?” so he could help bless the citron and the palm fronds. But it was more of a gesture than an audible ask, since this bearded young man in a long black coat was wearing a mask.

One passerby stopped, not to make a blessing, but to shout: “You should get your people to wear a mask!”

“That’s racist,” my sister said when I recounted the story.

“Is it racist to call out the ultra-Orthodox Jews if they’re the ones in this city not wearing masks?” I asked her. “How is it anti-Semitic if they’re the ones giving Jews a bad name?”

Up until recently, politicians have been too afraid to single out our community.

Like many people in New York City who suffered lockdown this spring so we would flatten the coronavirus curve, I don’t want the city to go into a complete lockdown. And as a fellow Jew (formerly Orthodox, never ultra) I feel personally responsible. Like our sages say, “Every Jew is responsible for one another.” That’s why I want to drive through Brooklyn, shouting out my car window in Yiddish, “Gey trog a farsholtene maske!” Wear. A. Damn. Mask.

Like many working moms, I have a lot at stake: I am privileged that our daughter is being taught in person at a private Jewish day school. Not ultra-Orthodox, but a socially distant, HVAC-ventilated, outdoor-lunching, overly cautious school that requires coronavirus testing to return after the holidays end on Sunday night. (As opposed to some ultra-Orthodox schools that passed out flyers advising not to test for COVID-19 so their schools wouldn’t be shut.)

If, like other schools in hot spots, our daughter’s school is shut down primarily because of the behavior of other Jews, I will want to take her to them, hold her up and shake her like a lulav and say, “Who will watch her now? Oy, what has happened to us?!”

On Tuesday, Gov. Cuomo took the necessary action of going one step further, restricting capacities at houses of worship — including synagogues — to 10 people or 25 percent, starting on Friday. As a result, Orthodox Jews in Borough Park set fire to garbage as they demonstrated against his edict on two nights this week.

But Cuomo, you should not be deterred. As a Jew who has much appreciation for my more religious brothers and sisters (and who has no clue why they or anyone else flouts the medical recommendations), I urge you to stay strong and enforce the synagogue restrictions.

This weekend brings the holiday of Simchat Torah, one of the most joyous in our religion. Jews of all denominations celebrate en masse by dancing with the Torah, crowding the synagogues and streets like a Jewish mosh pit.

Cuomo should also make sure these celebrations are prohibited this year. Dancing with the Torah and other mass gatherings like it should not be allowed to happen — until we have something to rejoice about.

Amy Klein is the former managing editor of The Jewish Journal of Greater Los Angeles, and writes about religion, parenting, health and infertility.

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