Right now, the world feels chaotic. ICE is in Ohio. Our neighbors fear government raids and abductions. I strongly disagree with many in my community on politics, human rights, and the path forward. Antisemitism is surging, and it takes courage to wear a Jewish star and speak openly about being Jewish.

So why would I want to go to a Super Bowl party?

At first, it feels frivolous, even distracting, amid so much turmoil. But I believe participating in this shared event is both what I need personally and what my community needs, a moment to connect, recharge, and affirm our belonging despite the chaos.

Let me be clear. I know almost nothing about football. I just learned which teams are playing — I asked Google. Still, I am eager to attend a party, watch the game on the big screen, and eat wings, sliders, and cupcakes.

It is completely out of my everyday norm, and yet for me, it will be healing.

I look forward to this Super Bowl party as an annual gathering where my family and friends who have known me since I was a child come together.

I will not be watching the game itself because I will not understand it. But in the middle of winter, when there is very little daylight, and in a time when there is very little metaphorical light, I look forward to gathering with my family and my community and doing something so very American as watching the Super Bowl. We, along with our other non-Jewish friends, will talk about the commercials and the halftime show, and we will dance, or slightly bounce, to a Puerto Rican megastar.

Why would I want to watch something that feels like a simulated military exercise when I cannot even watch violent television shows? There is something about the communal experience of watching a football game where we are not talking about nationalities. To me, it is one of the few times when a holiday is not specifically about ethnic identity or religion — except for the commercials aired last year that Jesus “gets us.” The irony is that, in the middle of this very violent sport, we are being sold the idea of a nonviolent deity. But that caused more uproar about the use of advertising dollars.

And we really do not need to worry too much about political correctness while watching people tackle each other, except, of course, for the whole taking a knee thing.

The Super Bowl is a moment for American Jews to feel specifically American and to participate freely alongside the rest of society.

We do not need to negotiate a holiday around Shabbat — this is Super Bowl Sunday. It is a chance to experience belonging, both within our Jewish community and with our allies.

For me, this matters because of where I come from. I am part of a deeply rooted, loving family and an extraordinary community. When we gather, our allies show up with us. We show up together to celebrate something profoundly American: American football.

We do not pretend the world is not on fire. We know our neighbors are unsafe, and we may be too. But for one moment, we allow ourselves respite. We gather with people we have known for a long time, build community, and enjoy being part of American society, even having something light and silly to talk about at work the next day. On Monday, the world will still be on fire. Human rights will remain under threat, and our democracy will still feel more fragile than it once did — but I will have had one moment when I felt connected and part of the American way.

The last time I went to a Super Bowl party, a family friend tried to set my sister up with her son, and then asked where my husband was from, why she did not know his family, and what he did for a living, which all felt very Jewish.

My friend, Melissa Hunter, and I are cohosts of  The Kibbitz podcast, where we talk about motherhood, friendship, Jewish values, and other issues on Jewish women’s minds. Join us in the conversation. You can listen by clicking right here.