In heavy times, a story worth telling

We are living through profoundly heavy times. When facts feel inverted and history subverted.

Listening to the testimonies and stories emerging from the Royal Commission has been deeply confronting. It feels as though the world is unsettled, upended in ways that are difficult to reconcile.

And so, I want to tell another story.

I have been with Officeworks for over five years. During that time, whether in stores or working at head office, I have always felt safe, supported and able to bring my full self to work.

My Jewish identity is present but not front and centre. It tends to reveal itself in small ways; from my self-deprecating humour to my ongoing mission to feed my team kosher pastries. Food is love, after all.

And then, a seemingly simple request at my local Officeworks store disrupted that sense of safety. An elderly man entered the store and asked a team member to laminate an article from The AJN about a trip he had taken to Israel.

He was refused service on the basis that the content made a team member uncomfortable.

The refusal itself carried a weight far beyond that moment. For Jewish people, denial of service echoes a deeply painful history. It calls to mind a time when exclusion was systemic, when Jewish identity alone was grounds for being turned away, dehumanised and ultimately led to persecution under Nazi rule.

I was in the office that day. I remember watching the video footage with a growing sense of disbelief. Suddenly, my work-home felt tainted, touched by something I never expected to feel there: antisemitism.

I mumbled my goodbyes, left the office in a daze, and as soon as I pulled into my driveway, I just broke down.

I reached out to the Head of People. Amidst what must have been immense pressure and chaos she made time to connect. We met online, both of us red-eyed, sitting in a silence that said everything. Then it came, all of it. Tears, anger and pain.

We spoke candidly about accountability. About the tension between immediate consequence and long-term education, and about what it means to do what is difficult, but right.

In the months that followed, Officeworks demonstrated something significant: leadership in action. Much of this work occurred out of sight, without expectation of acknowledgement.

Officeworks partnered closely with the Holocaust Museum, establishing an education program for team members, particularly within stores serving Jewish communities.

Senior leaders also participated, immersing themselves in the history, taking the time to listen and learn in a way that signalled real intent.

Alex Ryvchin was invited to our head office in Melbourne, where in front of over 100 employees, he was interviewed by our managing director in an extended and considered conversation, exploring the history of antisemitism, ancient tropes and how its impacts continue today.

Listening to Alex so clearly and thoughtfully articulate the lived reality of antisemitism, within the context of my own workplace, in front of my colleagues, was profound and personal.

Then Bondi happened.
Within hours, our managing director emailed the entire business, standing clearly and unequivocally with the Jewish community. He also reached out to me personally and to other Jewish colleagues.

In the days that followed, people across all levels of the organisation checked in, through messages, corridor conversations and genuine moments of care. These were not gestures of obligation, but expressions of real humanity.

I know I am one of the lucky ones. I have friends and family who still feel the need to hide their Judaism from employers and colleagues.

And yet, in that contrast, I have seen what responsible leadership can look like. I have seen meaningful action.

That is why I wanted to share this. Because in moments like these, it matters that we recognise what corporate responsibility looks like. What good people look like.

We all need an anchor. Let this one be yours today.

Lee-at Jacobson is a member of the Melbourne Jewish community.