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YOUTH WATCH - As a young Jewish student, I’ve grown up hearing that words matter. In Hebrew school, my teachers told us that words can wound, but they can also heal. My grandparents reminded me that in Jewish history, silence was often imposed on us in the name of “order” or “safety.” So when I learned that ABC had pulled Jimmy Kimmel off the air for his comments about the killing of Charlie Kirk, I felt more than disappointment—I felt uneasy.
I don’t agree with every joke Jimmy Kimmel has ever told. Some of his remarks even make me cringe. But that’s the point of free speech: it protects the words that make us uncomfortable, not just the ones that make us nod along. To see one of America’s most visible comedians silenced for being provocative feels like a warning to all of us who are trying to find our voices, especially in today’s polarized climate.
At my school, I already see how fear of saying the wrong thing shapes conversation. Friends who don’t share the majority opinion in class often stay quiet. In student clubs, people whisper before sharing an unpopular view, worried they’ll be judged—or worse, labeled. I’ve felt it too: that split-second calculation of “Is it worth speaking up? What if someone takes it the wrong way?” Watching ABC erase Kimmel over a controversial remark confirms that fear. If even someone with his platform can be taken down for crossing a line, what chance do students like me have?
As a Jewish student, I can’t help but connect this to our tradition. Debate is at the heart of Judaism. Our rabbis filled entire volumes of the Talmud with arguments—sometimes sharp, sometimes unresolved—because they believed truth emerges from wrestling with difficult ideas. When ABC silences Kimmel instead of letting audiences wrestle with his words, it betrays that principle. It tells us that disagreement is dangerous and that uncomfortable speech must be eliminated, not engaged.
Comedy has always been uncomfortable. Some of the Jewish comedians I admire most—Lenny Bruce, Joan Rivers, Mel Brooks—pushed boundaries until they broke. They made people laugh, but they also made people squirm. That discomfort forced society to see things differently. Kimmel, whether you love him or not, stands in that tradition. Pulling him off the air is like saying comedy’s only job is to entertain, not to provoke. And that’s not comedy at all.
I worry about the precedent. Today it’s Jimmy Kimmel. Tomorrow it could be a teacher at my school. The next day, it could be a student journalist or even a kid like me who decides to write something unpopular in the school paper. If we accept that controversial words should be erased instead of debated, then we’re building a culture where only the safest voices survive. That’s not the America I want to grow up in.
I’m not defending every word Kimmel said. I don’t need to. What I’m defending is the idea that speech should be answered with more speech, not censorship. If Kimmel offended people, let them challenge him, debate him, prove him wrong. Don’t just erase him. That’s too easy, and it teaches the wrong lesson.
As a Jewish student, I carry with me the belief that voices—especially conflicting ones—are essential. Silence is dangerous. Dialogue, even heated dialogue, is what makes us stronger. That’s why ABC’s decision feels so wrong. It doesn’t just hurt comedy; it hurts the culture of free expression that my generation depends on.
Because if we can’t learn to face words we dislike, how will we ever be ready to face the harder truths that lie ahead?
(Shoshannah Kalaydjian is a Jewish student writing on education, identity, and rising antisemitism. She amplifies student voices and calls for safer, more inclusive learning environments.)
