Here’s another truth we need to talk about.

If you watch any show—doesn’t matter what network, what genre, or what time of day—take a look at the credits. Really look. The producers. The writers. The directors. The studio heads.

You’ll see a pattern. Jewish names. Over and over. Sometimes Eastern European. Sometimes obvious. Sometimes coded. But if you know what to look for, you’ll see it—and once you see it, you can’t unsee it.

Now before anyone starts clutching pearls—this isn’t about hate. I’m Jewish. I know the names. I know the history. And I know what access looks like. I also know what exclusion feels like.

Because here’s the thing: you don’t see that same energy for other communities. Where are the Garcias? The Watanabes? The Choudhurys? The Johnsons?

You don’t see a balanced spread of Latin, Asian, Indigenous, or even Black creatives behind the scenes—not at the same scale. Not with that kind of consistency. And when you do see those names, they’re usually down the list. An assistant. A guest role. A “diversity hire.”

Meanwhile, Jewish presence in media is everywhere—not just in front of the camera, but behind it, owning the entire machine. And yet, no one talks about it.

Because the moment you even raise a question, you’re labeled antisemitic—even if you are Jewish. Even if you’re just pointing out what’s real.

That silence? That fear? That’s not equality. That’s protectionism. That’s unchecked power. And it’s not reflective of the actual society we live in.

I’m not mad that Jews are represented in media. I’m mad that everyone else isn’t.

Because real diversity isn’t just a hashtag. It’s not just casting a Black lead and calling it a day. It’s about who holds the pen, who funds the project, who gives the greenlight, and who owns the lens you’re seeing the world through.

I’ve been in those rooms. And I’ve seen the difference between walking in as Craig Cohen versus Justice Jones. One name opened doors. The other got raised eyebrows.

That’s not just bias. That’s built-in.

So yeah—the credits never lie.
And maybe it’s time we actually started reading them.

Let me be clear, because I don’t want there to be any confusion: I am Jewish. I come from Kohans—one of the oldest priestly lines in the culture. I’m also Black. And I’m done being quiet.

I’m tired of seeing the Jewish story dominate every narrative about pain and suffering—especially here in America. I turned on PBS today, and once again, it was another Holocaust special. And sure, the Holocaust was horrific. It was evil. But damn it, it happened eighty years ago.

Meanwhile, Black history in this country gets erased, minimized, and dismissed. We still can’t get real airtime for the transatlantic slave trade, the genocide of Native Americans, or the ongoing trauma of being Black in America. Where’s that programming?

And here’s the kicker: while we’re being told to “never forget,” the State of Israel—our so-called answer to Jewish persecution—is wiping Palestine off the map in real time. Right now. Today.

And yet, no one is allowed to talk about that without being labeled antisemitic. Even when the critique is coming from inside the house.

Let’s stop pretending Jewish power doesn’t exist. It does. In media, in law, in medicine, in politics. That’s not a conspiracy. That’s reality. And when you have that kind of power, you should be held accountable like anyone else.

Not shielded by historic trauma forever. We can’t keep using our pain as armor to ignore the pain we’re causing.

And don’t even get me started on how we police who’s “really” Jewish. As a Black Jew, I’ve been questioned more times than I can count.

And yet, when I used the name Craig Cohen in the Hollywood scene back in the day, doors flew open. More callbacks. More access. More attention—until I showed up in person and the assumption collapsed.

That tells you everything about how whiteness functions within Jewish spaces. Jewishness gets respect—until it’s attached to Blackness. Then suddenly, you’re “not really Jewish,” or worse, invisible.

This isn’t hate. This is truth.
And I’m done being polite about it.