San Diego Special-Ed Teacher Fired After Spreading Antisemitic Organ-Harvesting Propaganda

By: Fern Sidman

The shockwaves from a single, incendiary social media post reverberated far beyond a quiet San Diego neighborhood last week, culminating in the abrupt dismissal of a special education teacher whose remarks invoked some of the oldest and most noxious antisemitic calumnies in recorded history. As detailed in a report on Monday by The New York Post and corroborated by subsequent reporting, the episode has become a grim parable of the digital age: how a moment of unfiltered vitriol, amplified by social platforms, can expose deep-seated prejudices—and how communal vigilance can compel swift institutional accountability.

The teacher, identified as Nasreen Atassi, was terminated by the San Diego Unified School District after she posted a video on February 3 in which she accused Israel of grotesque crimes, alleging that the Jewish state “steals livers and kidneys and eyeballs.” The remarks, which bore the unmistakable imprint of medieval blood libels and modern conspiracy theories, ignited immediate outrage. The New York Post reported that the district confirmed her removal after inquiries into claims first publicized by The Jerusalem Post, underscoring the speed with which the controversy escalated from an obscure online rant to a matter of national attention.

In the now widely circulated video, Atassi is seen delivering a rambling monologue in which she alleges that Israel “hijacks protests” in order to engage in what she described as habitual theft, ranging from “goods and services” to the harvesting of human organs. The grotesque imagery and language were not merely offensive; they echoed long-standing antisemitic tropes historically deployed to dehumanize Jews, portraying them as predatory and morally depraved. Such narratives have, for centuries, fueled persecution, pogroms, and violence. That these tropes could surface, unfiltered, from the mouth of an educator entrusted with the care of vulnerable children has unsettled parents and community leaders alike.

The video might have remained confined to the obscure corridors of social media had it not been amplified by StopAntisemitism, a U.S.-based watchdog organization that monitors and publicizes antisemitic incidents. The group reposted the clip on X, accompanied by a stark admonition: “Imagine this monster near a special needs Jewish child?” The New York Post report noted that the post gained rapid traction, prompting a deluge of complaints to school district officials. Within hours, what had been an isolated outburst became a flashpoint in a broader reckoning over antisemitism in American schools.

The speed of the district’s response was striking. According to the information provided in  The New York Post report, Atassi was removed from her position less than a day after the video began circulating publicly. While school officials did not elaborate on the internal deliberations that led to the decision, community leaders suggested that the swiftness reflected both the severity of the remarks and the intensity of the public pressure that followed.

A local Israeli community member, quoted by Israeli television station N12, expressed disbelief that such sentiments could emanate from a classroom professional, adding that there was “no chance” the community would tolerate such an individual teaching children.

Behind the scenes, Jewish communal organizations mobilized with a coordination that has become increasingly characteristic in the aftermath of the October 7 Hamas attack on Israel and the ensuing war in Gaza. The New York Post has repeatedly chronicled a nationwide surge in antisemitic rhetoric, vandalism, and harassment in schools and universities since that watershed moment. In California, Jewish advocacy groups have reported a sharp increase in incidents, ranging from hostile graffiti to classroom disruptions and online abuse. The Atassi case, while extreme in its language, thus landed in an already charged atmosphere.

Dr. Halevi Feldman, a board member representing House of Israel–Balboa Park, told N12 that the San Diego Jewish community has established a systematic approach to documenting antisemitic incidents and forwarding them to relevant authorities. “Our community has someone responsible for collecting these cases,” Feldman explained, noting that the process involves careful documentation, coordinated online advocacy, and formal complaints to institutions.

He suggested that this infrastructure of vigilance was instrumental in ensuring that Atassi’s remarks did not pass without consequence. “She was removed from the education system in less than a day,” Feldman said, adding that “additional steps were taken behind the scenes.”

The New York Post reported that community leaders were not entirely surprised by the video, given the climate of rhetorical extremism that has taken hold in some quarters since the outbreak of war in Gaza. Yet Feldman emphasized that familiarity with such expressions does not breed complacency. “We’re no longer shocked when we see things like this,” he observed, “but we absolutely do not intend to give up or remain silent—and certainly not to allow such a person to be part of San Diego’s education system.”

His words encapsulated a broader resolve among Jewish organizations to challenge antisemitism not only through denunciation but through sustained engagement with school districts, lawmakers, and civil society.

The Atassi episode raises uncomfortable questions about the boundaries between private expression and professional responsibility, particularly in an era when social media blurs the distinction between personal opinion and public conduct. Educators, by virtue of their role, are entrusted with shaping young minds and fostering environments of inclusion and respect. The New York Post has highlighted that in recent years, school districts across the country have grappled with cases in which teachers’ online statements have conflicted with institutional values. While free speech protections remain a cornerstone of American democracy, they do not absolve educators of the ethical obligations inherent in their profession.

Moreover, the content of Atassi’s remarks underscores the persistence of antisemitic conspiracies that, despite being repeatedly debunked, continue to circulate in digital ecosystems. The notion that Jews or Israel harvest organs is a modern iteration of ancient libels that portrayed Jews as ritualistic murderers. Such myths have proven remarkably resilient, adapting to new political contexts and media platforms. Their reemergence in contemporary discourse is not merely a matter of offensive speech; it reflects deeper currents of disinformation and radicalization.

The school district’s decision to sever ties with Atassi may be read as an affirmation that such rhetoric has no place in educational settings. Yet the incident also exposes the reactive nature of institutional responses, which often depend on viral exposure rather than proactive oversight. Critics argue that districts must invest more heavily in training educators to recognize and avoid prejudicial narratives, particularly at a time when global conflicts reverberate in local classrooms. The New York Post has reported that some school systems have begun to reassess their policies on social media conduct and cultural competency, though such efforts remain uneven.

For parents of special needs students, the case has provoked particular anxiety. These children, often more vulnerable and reliant on the empathy and professionalism of their teachers, depend on educators who can provide not only academic support but emotional security. The prospect that a teacher harboring such extreme views might have been responsible for their care has shaken confidence in institutional safeguards. The New York Post report relayed concerns from families who worry that ideological extremism, left unchecked, could compromise the well-being of students.

At a broader level, the episode reflects the fraught intersection of geopolitics and domestic social cohesion. As the war in Gaza continues to inflame passions, the spillover into American civic life has manifested in protests, counterprotests, and, increasingly, in rhetoric that targets Jewish individuals and institutions. The New York Post has chronicled this trend with mounting alarm, documenting incidents that range from vandalism of synagogues to hostile demonstrations on college campuses. The Atassi case, though rooted in one individual’s outburst, is emblematic of a wider malaise: the erosion of civility and the normalization of demonizing language.

Yet there is also a countervailing narrative of communal resilience and accountability. The swift mobilization of Jewish organizations, the responsiveness of the school district, and the public repudiation of Atassi’s remarks demonstrate that antisemitism does not go unchallenged. The New York Post’s coverage has underscored the importance of such vigilance, arguing that silence in the face of hatred only emboldens its purveyors. In this instance, the machinery of civic response—watchdog groups, community leaders, media scrutiny, and institutional action—functioned with unusual alacrity.

As the dust settles, the Atassi episode will likely serve as a case study in the evolving challenges faced by educational institutions in a polarized era. It invites a reckoning with the responsibilities of educators, the perils of digital radicalization, and the enduring need for communities to defend the boundaries of decency. The New York Post has framed the incident not merely as an isolated scandal but as a warning: that the ancient poison of antisemitism, repackaged for the social media age, remains a corrosive force, capable of seeping even into the most unsuspecting corners of civic life.