At our recent teen leadership training weekend, we had an activity where we shared different metaphors for our relationship with Israel. These metaphors were based on various Zionist thought leaders throughout history.

There was an engaged conversation about one metaphor describing the relationship with Israel as a “ball and chain”: Some interpreted it as feeling responsible for representing Israel in their schools or with their friends. Others characterized it as a burden that they can never shed. Just by being Jewish, they might feel the pressure and expectation to know everything that is happening and to defend every action, statement and position that Israel, its people and its government take, regardless of their personal perspectives.

Then, like a voice from the heavens, one of the teens raised her hand. “I completely disagree,” she said. “I don’t see Israel as a burden or something that drags me down.”   We asked her what metaphor she would choose instead, and without hesitating she lit up and said, “Israel is my wings. With Israel I feel like I can fly.”   

Teens at a Young Judaea teen leadership weekend in 2025.

There was an audible gasp by the older generation in the room. She literally took our breath away. Why? It wasn’t that her sentiment was universally shared, but that it radiated such hope and aspiration — something we, as Jewish professionals, hunger for. It brought oxygen into the room. 

In the recent “Hope Study” by M², they found that Jewish community professionals are experiencing a crisis of hope (“M² survey finds Jewish professionals lack hope, fear internal division, but believe in their work,” eJewishPhilanthropy, Sept. 18). The experience I recount above, and countless similar interactions with our teens, serve as a constant reminder that hope is still possible.

People often ask me what it’s like to lead a Zionist youth movement. They expect me to talk about the hard parts (and yes, those moments exist), but it always surprises them that I think the greatest privilege of all is to work with today’s youth. Working with youth gives me purpose, of course, but what I love most is their raw, authentic optimism, something too many of us adults lose along the way. I joke that being around youth makes me age in reverse. They keep me young. 

The “Hope Study” cites various sources of hope that mitigate the lack of hope among Jewish professionals. They include professional impact, participating in social change, belonging to a group, and tradition. I would add to this list: working with youth. Those of us who have the honor of working with youth, day in and day out, are investing in the future, but we are also reaping the benefits in the present. The study goes on to say that there are organizational differences in their findings. Those who work in day schools scored highest in having hope, which I would posit has a lot to do with the populations they are working with each day: youth.

That said, I don’t want to minimize the detractors from hope and optimism. We are working in incredibly challenging times and conditions. With crisis after crisis and constant threats, the burnout among Jewish professionals is real; as Barry Finestone said in his recent article ”The crisis we are ignoring”, “the people holding up the Jewish world are running on fumes.” And we need to look at strategies and approaches to renew, restore and build up resiliency. I would add to Barry’s list of antidotes to this burnout: regular exposure to today’s youth (although preferably not limited to your own children — that’s more complicated).

Throughout the year, while my work demands a significant amount of travel, getting out into the field to talk to our youth, to engage them in dialogue and to be constantly amazed by their freshness, directness and unbridled optimism — that is what gives me hope. If you don’t believe me, look at my socials where I document my site visits. I can’t help but feel some of that same optimism when I spend time with our youth; and as I come back to the office, I try to hold onto that feeling, those precious interactions, until my next time in the field.

So, if you are looking for an oxygen mask to revive you and restore your hope, consider working with today’s youth. Who knows — you might even live a little longer.

Adina H. Frydman is the CEO of Young Judaea Global.

As published in ejewishphilanthropy: ejewishphilanthropy.com/working-with-youth-gives-me-hope

Tell us about your involvement in Young Judaea.
I started at Sprout Lake when I was 10, then went on to Tel Yehudah in ’94 and ‘95, Machon, and Year Course 1998-99. I was also involved a bit in the New York club as a kid.

Do you still connect with friends from YJ?
Absolutely. I’m still very close with about 15 friends from my YJ days. The special part is that now our kids all go to Sprout together—it’s truly a second generation of our group.

What impact has YJ had on your life?
My closest lifelong friends are from YJ, and those friendships have grown into family bonds. YJ also gave me confidence to be an organizer, to bring people together. The programming taught us not what to think, but how to think—presenting all sides of complex issues and trusting us to form our own conclusions.

And of course, Israel. YJ’s approach is spot on. It’s about love for the culture, the shira, the rikkud, and the history. Being able to engage deeply with Israel as a teenager shaped how I connect to my Jewish identity today.

What prompted you to get back involved?
After October 7th, I felt an urgent need to return to Israel. When I saw the YJ mission announcement, I signed up immediately. That week—meeting survivors, visiting cemeteries, and then being back at Kibbutz Ketura—was incredibly powerful. Looking at the sunset in the Negev, it reawakened the spirituality I felt as a 19-year-old, and my connection to Young Judaea.

Is YJ still relevant today?
More than ever. Being Jewish in America right now is more challenging than it’s been in generations. YJ provides a safe space where kids can truly be themselves, explore their Jewish identity, and build a meaningful connection to Israel. That kind of environment is rare—and essential.

What inspired you to organize reunions?
Honestly, I just love hanging out with my YJ friends. It never feels like a burden—it’s fun, and it’s rewarding to bring everyone together. I encourage other alumni to start with your own age group or “adah.” Once you gather a critical mass, the magic of YJ friendships takes over naturally.

Eli’s YJ History: Sprout Lake 1990-92, Tel Yehudah 1994-95, Counselor at YJ West and MH (at Tel Yehudah) 1997, Year Course 1998-99

How did Young Judaea shape your Jewish and Zionist identity?
Growing up at CYJ gave me the foundation to create and flourish my Jewish and Zionist identity. It instilled in me a love and deep knowledge of Israel, and later TY and Year Course solidified that. It also gave me the chance to be my most authentic Jewish self and connect with people who practice Judaism differently than I do, which was so impactful since I didn’t get that exposure at home. And of course its given me so many friends, and people I now consider family.

Did your Year Course or other YJ experiences influence your decision to become involved in Israel advocacy on campus?
On Year Course, I worked with Israelis and Palestinians through Magen David Adom and gained firsthand insight into Israeli life. That experience deepened my connection to Israel and gave me the confidence to engage others in real dialogue. Working at CYJ Texas also shaped how I think about Israel education, especially for younger generations.

In what ways have you stepped up on campus since 10/7/23?
I became president of Hoosiers for Israel and also serve as co-marketing chair on our Hillel student board. In these roles, I’ve helped plan and promote events like Israel Palooza, our October 7th memorial, and other programs that support and uplift Jewish students on campus.

Why do you think YJ is still relevant for young people today?
A lot of Jewish youth movements have lost popularity, but they’re so important. They bring people together around shared values and create space for real conversations. Unlike sports or arts, this kind of ideological community lets young people explore their faith and identity, ask tough questions, and grow together.

Mikayla’s YJ History: CYJ Texas 2014-18, Tel Yehudah 2019, CIT/Staff at CYJ Texas 2021-2025, Year Course 2022-23

When did Young Judaea first become part of your life?

I joined in high school, and it quickly became the focus of my life. I went to Tel Yehudah, did Year Course, and even volunteered on a moshav during the Yom Kippur War. Those experiences shaped my connection to Israel and Zionism.

How did your involvement continue after Year Course?

In college at Brandeis, I stayed active in YJ—leading clubs in Newton, working at Tel Yehudah (where I met my wife), and helping start a garin to Kibbutz Ketura. YJ gave me real responsibility early on. Everything was peer-led, and we learned by doing.

What inspired you to start the Israel Ride?

Years later, my old YJ friend David Lehrer was leading the Arava Institute. I had gotten into biking and thought—why not create a ride to raise money for the Arava? It felt very YJ to support Israel, peace, and the environment. The first year we had 30 riders; soon it was over 100. In 20 years, the Ride has brought more than 2,000 riders and raised millions. In many ways, organizing it felt just like running a YJ pe’ulah.

How do you see the impact of Young Judaea on your life today?

YJ taught me as much about leadership as anything else I’ve ever done—including school. I learned how to communicate, involve people in discussion, and hold multiple perspectives while working toward a shared purpose. YJ gave me mission and responsibility, and it’s why I’ve devoted so much of my life to nonprofit work, education, and Israel.

Why are you serving on the Young Judaea board today, and as treasurer?

Now more than ever, a Zionist youth movement is essential in America. For YJ to thrive, it needs strong, year-round activity to complete the circle. I joined the board, and took on the role of treasurer, to help make that happen and ensure YJ continues shaping the next generation the way it shaped me.

Howie’s YJ History: Mazkirut New England, Tel Yehudah camper and staff, Year Course 1972-73, YJ Club Madrich, Machon and Chavurat Yisrael, Madrich MA and Merakez

By Perri Schwartz, Year Course 2021-22

Year Course didn’t just give me amazing friendships and unforgettable memories—it inspired me to give back in ways I never imagined. The program showed me that service, leadership, and listening deeply to others are powerful acts of change.

During my time on Year Course, I made it a priority to learn from both Israelis and Palestinians on the ground, gaining a deeper understanding of the geopolitics of this beautiful land. One of the most defining parts of the program was my internship with Israel Daily News. That experience not only opened doors professionally but also set the foundation for the work I continue to do now.

Since completing Year Course, my path has only grown from there. I’ve been back with Israel Daily News since September 2024, and next month I’ll be celebrating my one-year anniversary. Alongside my journalism and content creation, I joined Repair The World as part of their summer service corps and now serve as a service ambassador. I also started a local chapter of Run 4 Their Lives, a challenging but meaningful mission that has already seen real growth.

Most recently, I participated in a 5-day retreat with Repair The World and Moishe House in Western North Carolina, helping a community still recovering from Hurricane Helene. That experience reminded me once again that real change doesn’t happen overnight—it happens when we show up, listen, and stand in solidarity.

The skills I gained through Year Course continue to shape me every day. Through my digital activism (@perrispeaks_ on Instagram) and leadership projects, I’ve grown into a stronger person who refuses to give up on my dreams—even when my college path didn’t go the way I planned. Today, I’m proud to be a published writer not just for IDN, but also in The Jerusalem Post, Times of Israel Blogs, and Unpacked Media. And I know this is just the beginning.

In Judaism, service isn’t just a value—it’s a divine act of engagement. When we commit to helping others, we sanctify that holy duty. As Pirkei Avot (Mishnah 4:5) teaches:

“Whoever saves a single life, it is as though they have saved an entire world.”

Every person is a universe of potential, stories, and worth. By serving with humility, respect, and love, we honor the divine spark within each individual.

I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished so far and even more excited about what lies ahead. We are capable of more than we think. Here’s to continuing the work—and to doing more good, together, for the world.

By Aviva Schonbrun, Year Course 2024-2025

My name is Aviva Schonbrun and I was on Year Course 2024-2025.

Today was my college orientation. I didn’t know anyone and was really nervous about meeting new people. Part of that anxiety came from not knowing what to say if someone asked me about my past year. I was honestly scared to mention Israel to the wrong person.

I made my first friend at the campus Starbucks, and while we chatted, I followed her on Instagram. I then noticed she had just posted a congratulations message for the new mayor of New York City (someone who’s openly anti-Zionist and antisemitic). I immediately got nervous. I obviously didn’t know where she stood on Israel, but I took it as a bad sign.

Eventually, she asked about my gap year, but instead of freezing up, I confidently said Israel. Surprisingly, she said “That’s so cool” We walked to the next meeting together, and I decided to open up to her about my hesitation to share where I had spent the year, and told her I had been relieved by her response.

Then she said, “ Honestly, I don’t really even know much about what’s going on right now, are you able to explain? All I’ve heard is Israel bombs Gaza.”

I know this stuff comes up on college campuses, but I definitely wasn’t expecting to have this conversation within my very first hour there, but after this year, I felt a sense of responsibility to share what I’ve learned.

I tried to explain briefly the history and nuance of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and then October 7th. She kept asking questions and we talked for another 30 minutes while we waited in line. I did my best to use what I’ve learned this year- listening to her perspective and filling in the gaps with what she didn’t know.

At the end, she thanked me for teaching her and I felt a sense of accomplishment and pride. I’m incredibly grateful to Year Course for giving me the confidence and the educational tools to engage in these tough conversations, and hopefully make a difference. Thank you for everything this past year. I miss it so much!

Learn More About Year Course

Dear Young Judaea Family,

This has been a difficult week as the war between Israel and Iran continues to unfold. We are heartbroken by the loss of life, the daily fear and disruption, and the displacement of so many. Our thoughts are especially with our Young Judaea alumni and staff in Israel—we are praying for your safety and strength.

We are all standing a little taller, prouder, and more resolute because of Israel’s courageous efforts on behalf of the Jewish people and the world. At YJ Camps, the expression of Zionism is palpable as campers sing “Am Yisrael Chai” at the top of their lungs.

At Young Judaea, our first priority is the well-being of our participants. This includes those currently in Israel on our Amirim and Onward Israel programs, and soon, additional cohorts from Onward Israel and Gesher, our teen summer program.

With safety as our top priority, we adapt as necessary to keep participants safe and engaged in a meaningful program. If you are directly responsible for a participant and have questions about how current events may impact your program or camp, please refer to the regular updates from our Israel team for the most accurate information.

In North America, our summer camps are standing together—supporting each other and our Israeli campers and staff, all of whom are deeply affected by the events in Israel. Israelis already at camp are balancing the difficulty of being far from home while still creating joyful and meaningful summers for our campers. For our Israeli campers and staff whose flights have been grounded, we eagerly await your arrival. You long to be at camp, and our camps count on you.

With decades of experience, Young Judaea is no stranger to navigating crisis. With steady leadership, dedicated staff, and a clear purpose, we respond swiftly and as a unified movement in moments like these.

Thank you for being part of our resilient Young Judaea community. We will continue to show up—for Israel, and for one another.

Oseh Shalom Bimromav, Hu Ya’aseh Shalom Aleinu, V’al Kol Yisrael, V’al Kol Yoshvei Tevel

Adina Frydman
CEO Young Judaea Global

By Margot Turk Calacuda, Year Course 1974-75

Growing up in the youth movement Young Judaea taught me many things that attribute to who I am today. One of the biggest lessons? That there are friends, there is family, and then there are those rare friends who become your family. My adrenaline is at a high level after spending a week with my “family friends.” The 1974-75 Year Course in Israel had a big impact on our lives, and together we celebrated the experience we had 50 years ago.

I had a small pre-reunion with a few friends in Haifa to catch up on life from the past 50 years. We had a culinary tour in Wadi Nisnas, the most authentic market and traditional market that emphasizes coexistence. Chef Avi showed off his skills in our kitchen for Friday night dinner while I showed off my clown toys. Early Shabbat morning we walked to Carmel Hai Bar, the nature reserve devoted to the raising of endangered and extinct animals. We drove to visit my Druze friend on the mountain for pita and labane before heading down to Ein Hod the Artist village.

In the evening we dined at my favorite downtown bistro and followed by a walk to to view the graffit in Haifa. After a night’s sleep for most, we met at the Louis Promenade for the best views of the lower section of Haifa, the bay all the way to Lebanon.

We had brunch at the fun Cafe Diyoma which gives a feeling of what cafes used to be like in Haifa. We drove to Nesher to the suspension bridges to “hang out”. We hiked with my speaker in hand and danced until suddenly a group of elementary school children joined us. I played a song that they would know and we all danced. Their madrich asked us “old ladies” if we’d ever heard of a camp in NY called TY. Really? Of all the places and people to ask! He was a shaliach at TY in 2009.

Laughing all the way back to the car we drove to Haifa University and up to the 30th floor of the Eshkol tower to see the panoramic view of Haifa and the surroundings. Our evening was down at the beach to meet my daughter and grandsons before our dinner at the Beach Club. With the sunset in the background, we got ready for our early wake up to take the train to Savidor station to meet all of our Chevre.

Next we took the long drive down to Kibbutz Ketura. We began with a brief walk to see some of the changes in the Kibbutz and ended up at the pool for a lovely BBQ dinner. Dinner was followed by our ice-breakers and a discussion about Israel over the past 50 years.

The next morning after breakfast we headed to the date fields. It was especially meaningful for those that planted trees 50 years ago. We continued on down to Eilat to have a choice of snorkeling or the underwater observatory. We had lunch at the Ice Mall and back to Kibbutz for free time plus the Argan Oil production tour. This was followed by a very moving Memorial Celebration of Life for those that had left us too soon. Sitting in the hut we reminisced about wonderful people we were fortunate to have had in our lives and no longer alive to make new memories together with us. We had dinner tasting beers and pizza at Beerzinut. That evening we got down and wild with karaoke and storytelling.

The morning began with an amazing hike, climb, and crawl at Timna park, a lunch of ice cream at Yotvta, and then back to kibbutz to get muddy on our faces.

We walked back to our meeting room for an inspirational panel discussion of how YJ impacted our lives in terms of activism.

We then had a quick talk about Medical Clowning in Israel (hmmm, I wonder who the clown was that spoke).

We made dinner together—pita on the saj—then hiked into the dark with ultraviolet lights for a magical Scorpion Safari. I wore white sneakers and loved seeing my feet light up as we danced under the stars. We ended the night with a cozy kumsitz, where our talented Texas crew brought guitars and voices for an unforgettable evening of nostalgic songs.

On the final day of departure we were accompanied by music like, “I had the time of my life”, “You’ve got a friend”, and “Leaving on a Jet Plane”, we hugged and boarded our bus with a stop at Sde Boker to pay respects to David Ben Gurion’s gravesite.

We disembarked at Savidor Station in Tel Aviv with more hugs repeating “until we meet again’ and ‘l’hitratot’ because we neve say goodbye. I love my friends that have made my life better just by being in it, and I thank you. It is true when they say that Young Judaea friends are forever.

Why am I writing this post?
To all Young Judaea alumni—before, during, and after 1974-75: If you will it, you can do it!

We were awesome then, and we’re still awesome now. Reunions remind us of that.

Leah Kayman of Keren Kolot at Kibbutz Ketura devoted so much time in assuring that we were happy. Details are so important.

Abraham Silver (YC 1975-76) was our passionate guide and definitely an integral part of the success of our reunion.

Last but not least, the determination of 25 participants that traveled so much distance (with stops due to cancelled flights to Israel) to join over 15 participants here in Israel. Your efforts despite delays, sirens, schlepping showed us all that it was worth the countless hours of emails, zoom talks, messages…. to make this all a success. On behalf of my partners in crime on the committee we embrace you all with love and laughter.

See more pictures from the reunion!

Ready to plan your Year Course reunion? Email alumni@youngjudaea.org and we’ll get you started!

By Mandy Funk, Year Course 1998-1999

What an incredible weekend! Thirty-five friends, scattered across the country and even as far as Spain, descended upon Austin, Texas on April 25th for our 26^th 1998-1999 Year Course reunion. This was only our second reunion since 2019, making it even more special. It was a weekend packed with all the elements that make these gatherings so special: love, laughter, deep conversations, and plenty of reminiscing.

We kicked things off right with some fun by the pool, soaking up the Texas sun and shaking off the travel dust. As evening approached, we got dressed up for dinner, but not before a truly special moment in the hotel lobby. We gathered to celebrate the start of Shabbat, lighting candles and saying the blessings over wine and challah. It was a beautiful and meaningful way to begin our time together. Dinner was classic Austin – delicious BBQ, followed by an evening of nostalgic music and dancing that had everyone on their feet.

Saturday morning brought an invigorating tiyul on the Austin Greenbelt, a perfect way to experience the city’s natural beauty. We worked up an appetite for a great lunch, then it was back to the hotel for more poolside party fun. As the sun began to set, we headed out for some authentic Austin flavor: tacos and dancing at the White Horse honky-tonk. The energy was infectious, and we danced the night away, reliving old memories and making new ones.

This reunion was a testament to the enduring power of friendship. Despite the years and the distance, the bond between us remains as strong as ever. Catching up, sharing stories, and simply being together felt like coming home. huge thank you to Young Judaea, YJ’s camps, and Year Course for bringing all these lovely individuals together and helping created lifelong friendships. Here’s to many more years and many more reunions!

Ready to plan your Year Course reunion? Email alumni@youngjudaea.org!

By Vivian Genn Pittman

My brave grandmother Sabina Herbst and my mother Myra kept in touch for years with the Rajskis—the Christian family who courageously hid them in the attic of their barn for almost a year during the Holocaust. Letters were exchanged faithfully until the 1950s, when communication abruptly stopped.

Myra and Sabina had immigrated to America a few years beforehand, in 1948, to start a new life for themselves. They tried to move forward and bury the traumatic past, which included Sabina’s husband/ Myra’s father Chaim Herbst taken away when Myra was just three, witnessing loved ones being killed, and surviving unimaginable anxiety, loss and fear. Myra and Sabina lived hard in America, enjoying education, work, family, friends and Jewish traditions. They tried to keep the dark war memories at bay and the Rajkis in their hearts. 

In the 1990s, something shifted. After attending the first Hidden Children’s Conference in New York City, Myra felt a surge of determination: she had to find the Rajskis and thank them, in person, for having the courage to do right in the face of evil. With the help of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum and Yad Vashem, she succeeded.

By then, the Rajski parents—Wincenty and Stefania—had sadly passed away in Poland. But the two young daughters, whom my mother had watched running free through the fields from the cracks of the wooden barn attic, were now grown women, one living in Poland and one in Michigan, with large families of their own. A third sibling, born after the war, had children as well. Myra invited the Rajski siblings and their families to our home in New Jersey for a reunion.

Although excited, Myra was also nervous. She worried: Would the Rajskis resent that their parents had risked their lives for Jews? Did they harbor antisemitism? Would they come at all?

My sister and I, along with our parents, waited anxiously in our hometown of Tenafly, NJ, not yet fully grasping the rarity and magnitude of what was about to unfold. 

And then—they arrived.

The reunion was emotional and unforgettable. Arms outstretched, tears flowing, languages broken but hearts full. We spent several days together in our old brick house, swapping stories and photos, exploring Ellis Island, touring New York and New Jersey, and bridging decades of silence with laughter, love, and shared humanity.

For Sabina and Myra, it was almost impossible to believe. After barely surviving the harsh conditions of war, and the ghetto, after losing friends, family, belongings and freedom, after hiding in the woods, caves and then in a freezing attic for nearly a year, after surviving, rebuilding, remembering—they could now thank the family who had risked everything to save them.

Sabina beamed with pride as she showed off my sister and I, her two “mana shaina medelach” in Yiddish “my beautiful girls”- and the life she had built in America.

Later, Myra ensured the Rajskis were honored at the United Nations in a meaningful ceremony. Their names were added to the Wall of the Righteous at Yad Vashem. Our families have stayed connected since—visiting each other, meeting children and grandchildren, liking Facebook posts, texting across states and even continents.

The Rajskis were among the first to reach out to us after October 7th. Even now, they are a reminder of hope, of courage, of goodness. They feel like family.

It is a privilege, an honor, and also a profound responsibility to be a Holocaust descendant. The perspective colors every part of my life, each day. 

When I’m cold, I think of the rickety barn attic where my mother and grandmother hid, or the icy winds of a death march. When I see food left uneaten at a hotel breakfast buffet, I think about how many lives those scraps could have saved. When I see warm jackets piled into the lost and found bin, I wonder how many people could have survived with that added layer of warmth.

On other days, I draw strength from the resilience of my Grandma Sabina and my mother Myra. I speak up. I show up. I support Jewish causes, educate and organize, send my kids to Young Judaea Zionist summer camps and programs, visit Israel, and with my mom and children, share our family’s stories. History only survives if we carry it forward.

I am filled with urgency to preserve, to protect, to remember. To honor those who were murdered simply because they were Jews. To pass down stories that are harrowing, but also full of miracles, compassion, kindness and breathtaking courage.

I am in awe of the gratitude and strength that allowed my mother and grandmother not only to survive, but to thrive; to pursue education, to fight injustice, to live joyfully and proudly. Sabina never remarried, but poured her love into her only daughter, her granddaughters, and her Jewish identity. Myra, embracing her freedom, married her husband Manny later in life and focused on social work, Judaism, family and community, believing that living well was the best revenge.

We remember. We reflect. We respect. We tell the truth about the Holocaust and its lessons. We inspire, do good, and we hope for better. We appreciate and we celebrate life. Even in challenging times we are not alone and we are stronger together. 

And we help ensure: Never Again.

Vivian was a camper and counselor at Camp Sprout Lake and Tel Yehudah and went on Year Course. Her children have also attended Sprout Lake, Tel Yehudah, Year Course, and Gesher. Her daughter Natalie is the incoming National Mazkira of Young Judaea.