This Thursday, (22 January), Australia will pause for a national day of mourning following the Bondi terrorist attack. For most of the country it will be a moment of reflection and unity. For me, it will be a day I am still struggling to process.
I was there on that Sunday evening. I ran from the shooters. I heard the screams and saw the fear. It was chaos in one of the most peaceful places in the country. Bondi Beach is my community and my sanctuary. What many people watched unfold on the news, I lived through. I have since spent the past month away from Sydney recalibrating, trying to regain equilibrium and understand the emotional wreckage that settled in the aftermath.
For me, and for many in the Jewish community, this did not just feel like an attack on civilians. It felt like a direct attack on who we are. My grandparents survived the Holocaust and came to Australia to build a life of safety, dignity and opportunity for the generations that followed. They imagined a country where their children and grandchildren would never again feel hunted or hated.
Yet on that Sunday evening, in beautiful Bondi where I swim most days, that generational promise felt broken. It felt too close to home in every possible way.
In the days that followed, I attended the memorial services for eight days in a row (see photos below). What began as a small circle of the grieving grew into thousands. Jewish and non-Jewish. Local and interstate. People from every background, culture and faith standing together, crying together and refusing to let hate define our communities. It mattered. It still matters.
Since the Hamas terror attacks on 7 October 2023, our community has been carrying not just fear of violence, but fear of the quiet hatred. The comments from friends, the avoidance at work, the media narratives, the erasure of context and the selective empathy. Antisemitism has surged globally and Australia has not been immune.
While some media have shown leadership and responsibility, I have been deeply disappointed by others who have contributed to antisemitism and amplified hostility with no consequence. Media does not just report sentiment. It shapes it. When platforms are weaponised, communities pay the price.
That is why the joint call earlier this year, led by Australian business leaders and prominent CEOs, to hold government to account and launch a Royal Commission into antisemitism felt meaningful.
It signalled a turning point and acknowledged reality. It showed that leaders understand their influence and the need for systemic intervention. We will all be watching closely over the next 12 months as findings unfold.
But beyond boards, parliaments and papers, safety starts in much smaller places. Offices, teams, group chats, brainstorms and corridors. How we show up at work matters.
I am grateful to be in a workplace that has made me feel safe, supported and respected throughout this time. Our Jewish employee resource group has become a powerful source of community, education and allyship. We are actively building awareness programs, hosting speakers and developing learning pathways to help colleagues understand antisemitism.
What it looks like, how it manifests and how to intervene. Several major brands and clients are now doing similar work internally and that gives me enormous optimism for corporate Australia. Culture is built in the day-to-day, not just in statements.
Thursday will be surreal. Most of us still have not fully digested the reality of what happened. The worst terrorist attack on Australian soil in our lifetime. I will be back at Bondi with my community, supporting the charities and grassroots leaders doing extraordinary work so that we can remember, rebuild and refuse to let hatred take root.
We mourn. We hold each other up. We refuse to forget.
Because safety is not just the absence of violence. It is the presence of dignity, understanding and freedom. And every Australian, regardless of who they are, deserves that.
Melissa Fein is the managing director, Media, at Accenture Song.
