Landing at JFK the day before, I felt a mix of anticipation and familiarity. I can see JewCE becoming something of an annual pilgrimage for me, a chance to reconnect with this vibrant, ever-evolving community. By the time I walked into the convention space, everything felt charged with a unique energy—a buzz of overlapping conversations, the soft rustle of pages turning, tables piled high with every kind of Jewish comic you could imagine.
Returning to the scene at the Center for Jewish History, JewCE’s sponsor, was like slipping into a favorite pair of shoes; I recognized faces from last year, saw new artists setting up shop, and caught glimpses of artwork and the distinctive mix of words and imagery that highlights any gathering of comic book lovers. Some tables held pristine rows of freshly printed works, while others displayed an eclectic array of zines and hand-bound editions, each inviting curious readers to flip through and discover something new. This was more than a convention; it was a convergence of stories, styles, and a shared dedication to exploring Jewish identity through art.
As I wandered through the tables, I was reminded that JewCE wasn’t just about comics; it was a celebration of the full range of Jewish life along the lines of how we envision it at JCLS. Here, the Ashkenazi-centric view of Jewish identity was balanced by a refreshing diversity of voices—Sephardic stories, characters navigating Jewish life as mixed-race individuals, and perspectives from all sides of the Zionist spectrum. Orthodox creators shared space with secular and humanistic Jewish artists, each bringing a distinct angle on what it means to live and breathe Jewish culture today.
Seeing this variety laid out across tables, each comic a unique statement of identity, was both grounding and liberating. It was a powerful reminder of how vast and multifaceted Jewish experience is, and how comics as a medium seem uniquely suited to tell these stories in all their specificity and complexity.
The four sessions I attended were uniformly interesting, varied and thought-provoking. In the first, Ari Richter discussed his book Never Again Will I Visit Auschwitz, a powerful memoir that grapples with Holocaust memory and his complex relationship with his German Jewish grandparents, who once saw themselves as fully German. His mixed feelings underscored a tension many Jewish people feel when examining both their ties to their heritage and the harsh realities of Jewish history.
The next session was a panel discussion on Harvey Pekar, whose deeply personal storytelling and observational style have had a profound affect on comics. Pekar’s work broke ground by capturing the everyday, the mundane, and the uniquely Jewish experience of navigating American life, proving that comics could explore complex identities without relying on traditional heroes or grand narratives. The panelists gave personal reflections of working with Harvey and there was a long consideration of Harvey’s infamous appearances on the David Letterman show. Peter Kuper told a very personal and interesting tale of meeting Harvey Pekar, as a twelve year old comics collector. Harvey was an adult at the time and a well known comics enthusiast.
One of the highlights was watching the JewCE documentary film, which gave a sweeping history of Jewish involvement in the comics industry. It traced Jewish contributions from the Golden Age to the present, exploring why this art form has been so meaningful for Jewish culture. The film was a tribute to Jewish resilience and creativity, celebrating how comics have become a vital outlet for Jewish artists to explore their identities.
The final session I attended was a panel on Israeli artists reflecting on their work post-October 7, following the Hamas attack on Israel just over a year ago. The panelists spoke about their creative responses to the trauma, the challenges of navigating complex political landscapes, and their hopes for the future. It was a stark reminder of how art and storytelling help us process pain, maintain empathy, and imagine a way forward, even amidst conflict.
These sessions each highlighted a different angle of what JewCE represents: a platform to engage with Jewish identity in all its complexity, using comics as both an artistic and cultural bridge. This year, more than ever, I felt the urgency and relevance of these conversations, as they underscored the importance of telling our stories, grappling with our past, and envisioning a future.
Another highlight for me at JewCE was the chance to have extended conversations with many of the artists and writers who have shaped my own journey as a relatively new comics librarian. This project—building the Jewish Comics Library of Seattle—has only been underway for three years, since I retired from my role as a middle school librarian. I’ve had to adapt, immersing myself in the history and artistry of Jewish comics, and JewCE felt like an invaluable masterclass in that journey.
I was particularly thrilled to connect with Roy Schwartz, Arie Kaplan, and Danny Fingeroth—writers whose scholarly work on the history of comics has been indispensable as I build our collection. Each of them brings a deep understanding of the industry’s evolution and Jewish influence on the medium, and they were generous with their insights, discussing how comics intersect with broader themes of Jewish identity, culture, and resilience.
Meeting Koren Shadmi was another unexpected joy. Though we’d met briefly at last year’s JewCE, this time I had the chance to delve deeper into his work, which skillfully balances biography and history with a distinctly Jewish sensibility. I was so taken with two of his titles, The Twilight Man: Rod Serling and the Birth of Television and Mike's Place: A True Story of Love, Blues, and Terror in Tel Aviv, that I purchased them on the spot for the JCLS collection. These additions, with their layered storytelling and rich historical backdrops, feel like perfect fits for our library’s mission.
I also met and conversed with Arnon Z Schorr (Ben Mortara and the Thieves of the Golden Table) and Josh Neufeld, creators whose works I will follow with interest. Josh Neufeld collaborated with Brook Gladstone from NPR’s show On the Media on her first book The Influence Machine, which I intend to review in an upcoming newsletter post. Each of these conversations felt like a gift—an opportunity to learn from those who have spent their lives in comics, and who understand the potential of this medium to reflect and shape Jewish identity. I also had an extended conversation with Peter Kuper, a comics artist himself with a new book due out in the Spring.
As I spoke with artists and writers like Roy Schwartz, Arie Kaplan, Danny Fingeroth, Koren Shadmi, and Josh Neufeld, it became clear that we share a common vision: extending Jewish culture through the unique medium of comics. This vision is rooted in a deep commitment to exploring Jewish history and advancing the broader Jewish project—a term that encompasses our shared efforts to understand and express Jewish identity in all its diversity and complexity.
Comics, as a medium, feel particularly suited to this work. Their ability to intertwine visual and narrative storytelling creates a dynamic space for unpacking the nuances of Jewish life, from historical traumas to contemporary dilemmas. We discussed how this tradition is a principally American innovation, born from the Jewish creators who defined the comic book industry during its Golden Age. But it has also carried over to Jewish creators elsewhere in the world, especially in Israel and France, where new generations of artists have adapted the form to their own cultural contexts.
At JewCE, this shared commitment felt tangible. Whether through Ari Richter’s reflections on Holocaust memoirs, the promotional film celebrating Jewish contributions to comics, or the panel exploring the work of Israeli artists post-October 7, every session underscored the importance of comics as a living, evolving expression of Jewish culture. It’s a medium that bridges history and innovation, tradition and reinvention—a fitting metaphor for the Jewish story itself.
For me, as someone relatively new to this field, the conversations at JewCE affirmed the mission of the Jewish Comics Library of Seattle: to educate, inspire, and connect readers and creators through this powerful art form. It’s about more than preserving the past; it’s about creating a future where Jewish voices in comics continue to thrive and evolve. JewCE reminded me that this is a collective effort, a shared project that transcends borders and generations, carried forward by the artists, writers, and readers who believe in the enduring power of Jewish stories.
Unfortunately, in our present global and political situation, there is the ever present Spector of antisemitism hanging over any Jewish setting. It is our belief at JCLS that our work includes an effort to address antisemitism. One of the most powerful tools in fighting antisemitism is transparency. JewCE, with its focus on diverse narratives and nuanced storytelling, plays a vital role in dismantling the essentialism that fuels antisemitic ideologies. By showcasing the vast range of Jewish experiences—across cultures, histories, and perspectives—the convention creates a clear and multifaceted picture of Jewish life that directly counters reductive and harmful stereotypes.
The diversity at JewCE was not just about representation but about challenging monolithic narratives. From Ari Richter's exploration of Holocaust memory and identity to the stories of Sephardic and mixed-race Jews, each work presented at the event served as a testament to the complexity and richness of Jewish life. This transparency—the honest, unvarnished portrayal of lived experiences—makes it harder for antisemitism to thrive. Essentialism relies on oversimplification, reducing entire groups to static, one-dimensional identities. But the stories told at JewCE undo that work, one panel at a time.
Comics, as a medium, excel at this kind of nuanced representation. They combine text and image to create stories that resonate emotionally while also providing layers of meaning. Through humor, vulnerability, and creativity, the artists and writers at JewCE revealed what it means to be Jewish today, in all its messiness and beauty. It’s this openness, this refusal to be boxed in by stereotypes, that makes events like JewCE so essential—not just for the Jewish community, but for anyone seeking to understand and combat the roots of prejudice.
In the face of rising antisemitism, fostering spaces where Jewish stories can be told in all their diversity is an act of defiance and resilience. JewCE reminded me that storytelling itself is a form of activism, a way to shine a light on truths that essentialist narratives would rather keep in the dark. By supporting and amplifying these voices, we not only preserve Jewish culture but also equip ourselves with the tools to build a more empathetic and just world.
In many ways, I think we are living through a new golden age of Jewish comics. Unlike the superhero-dominated narratives of the past, today’s golden age is characterized by graphic novels that delve into personal memoir, offer historically accurate accounts from supplemental viewpoints, and explore new avenues of fiction. These works aren’t just entertaining; they’re transformative, opening up conversations about identity, history, and the Jewish future.
These trends are precisely what the Jewish Comics Library of Seattle aims to highlight and encourage. By curating a collection that spans memoir, history, and fiction, we hope to inspire readers and creators alike to explore the depth and breadth of Jewish experiences. My time at JewCE reaffirmed this mission. From talking with Josh Neufeld about The Influence Machine to seeing the promotional film celebrating Jewish contributions to the medium, every encounter underscored the importance of this work.
What struck me most at JewCE was how comics have become a bridge—connecting generations, geographies, and ideologies. Whether it’s Superheroes, the vivid depictions of life in prewar Europe, the complex political landscapes of modern Israel, or the deeply personal explorations of Jewish identity in the diaspora, these stories invite us to engage with Jewish life in all its dimensions.
Professionally, my experience at JewCE reminded me why JCLS matters—not just as a repository of stories, but as a space for dialogue, discovery, and connection. Personally, it deepened my appreciation for the creators who continue to push the boundaries of what Jewish comics can achieve.
The future of Jewish comics feels bright. My hope is that we continue to see this golden age expand, embracing even more diverse voices and stories. JewCE showed me what’s possible when a community comes together to celebrate its creativity and resilience. It’s a vision I carry with me as I return to Seattle, eager to continue building a collection that reflects and supports this extraordinary moment in Jewish storytelling.
Thanks for posting this article. I am looking forward to reading ARi Richter's book. I will look to try and come to Jewce in future years if I can. Maybe one day, I can come to Seattle.
Best wishes
Jonathan Sandler
www.graphicmemoir.co.uk