Manny’s YJ History: YJ Puerto Rico Club 1973-1976, Camp Judaea Staff 1974-1976, Tel Yehudah Camper 1973-1975, Regional Mazkir 1975-1976, Year Course 1976-1977, YJ Madrich 1977-1985, Young Judaea Global Board 2012-Present

Tell us about your history and involvement with Young Judaea

I attended TY the summer of 1973. That October, during the Yom Kippur War, our YJ Club in PR participated in a Community Rally. That experience prompted an immersive YJ journey that included returns to TY, summers as Staff at CJ, Mazkir of Azor Hadarom, and YC in 1976. During College, I was a member of Hamagshimim and was a Madrich for various Bogrim Clubs in the South.

What impact has YJ had on your life?

YJ shaped my connection to Israel, helped build my bond to Judaism, and molded my family, community, and friendships.

What prompted you to get back involved?

I separated from YJ during a 25 yr. span (1986–2011). In 2011, I attended CJ’s 50th Reunion. I first heard of YJ’s re-emergence after separating from Hadassah. A year later, I was asked to join the YJG Board. The past 14 years have given me an opportunity to pay it forward.

What inspired you to organize the Florida reunion alongside Robin Mendelson and Bretta Weissman Schachner?

Robin and Bretta are lifelong YJ friends, and together, we felt it was time to celebrate with our Judaean friends and update them on the current status of the movement.

Is YJ still relevant today?

Yes, more than ever, YJ is immensely relevant! For my grandchildren and generations to follow, the YJ journey is critical to their connection with Israel and their Jewish identity and pride.

By Michelle Mohnblatt, Assistant Director of Staff Hiring and Programs of Camp Young Texas

When I moved to Mexico at 19, I found a Jewish community that felt very different from
the one I grew up in. My hometown of Bogotá, Colombia, was a small Jewish community
of around 4,000 Jews in the whole country at the time. Some people might think that a
smaller Jewish community means fewer opportunities, but that was not my experience.
On the contrary, one of the most important parts of our community was how involved
everyone was. In Mexico, however, there were many more Jewish schools, synagogues,
youth movements, sports teams, and institutions, things that can only exist in a much
larger community. I was most impressed by the different ways the community supported
its people, and by the fact that not everyone had to be involved in everything to make
it all work. I realized then that every community has different needs, and with those
needs come different opportunities. But my perspective on Jewish diversity did not start
in Mexico. It started years earlier, the summer I went to camp.

When I went to a Jewish sleepaway camp for the first time at 13, I discovered another
model for Jewish life. Camp Young Judaea Texas is a pluralist camp that opened my
eyes to different sides of the religion, not just by showing them to me but by being
surrounded by so many different Jewish people that were my own age, all of us coming
from different ways of life, different knowledge about our religion, and different
practices in our homes. Some of the kids in my bunk had never had the opportunity to
pray Shacharit; meanwhile, in my Jewish school we prayed every morning. Some had
never spoken a word in Hebrew, and some were fluent. But we did have something in
common — we were all Jewish, at a stage in life of growing and figuring out who we
are and the way we want to live our religion.

Even at 13 we were all curious to learn from each other and experience Judaism in a
different way. For me it was really fun trying their traditions and seeing what things I
liked the most to bring back home after camp. I remember one day when they taught
us about the Shema, and one of the counselors explained what it personally meant to
him and how he connected to it on a deeper level. I had said the Shema all my life, but
hearing someone speak about it that way helped me realize that Judaism is not only one
thing. This helped me realize that there is not just one right way to be Jewish.

This will be my fourth summer working at Camp Young Judaea in Texas. Like many
people in the camp world, I first came as a camper, then worked as a counselor, and
slowly grew into leadership roles. Today, part of my job is hiring seasonal staff. During
many interviews, when I ask why they want to come to camp, they often say that while
camp is fun, it is also the one place where they can be completely themselves. They feel
connected to Judaism and to Israel, and they do not have to hide it.

Camp is a safe place where both counselors and campers can show who they truly are. By
the end of the summer, you can see how much they grow in confidence and how much
more comfortable they become expressing themselves. I know that growth comes from
giving them a place where they feel safe being exactly who they are, and in doing so,
we are teaching them to be proud Jews.

Camp shows us that there isn’t one correct way to practice and teach Judaism, as I have
personally experienced. We are a global people that have joy and a need for a sense of
community. I have learned that being a proud Jewish person can look different in every
community. The customs may change, but all of us are trying our best to be good, kind
people. When we teach about Judaism, I believe we should think not only beyond the
practices but also focus on the values behind them —who we are and what we stand
for. That is what I have learned from growing up in Bogotá, living in Mexico, coming to
camp, and from now helping create that experience for others.

Originally published in the Foundation for Jewish Camp’s Peoplehood Papers, Edition 36: Cultivating Jewish Peoplehood at Camp.
[Read the full paper]

At 17, I left home for Young Judaea Shalem with an extremely sophisticated plan for my future: go to Israel for a year, have an adventure, and figure out the rest later.

Over a decade later, I published a novel about a 22-year-old who gets on a one-way flight to South America with approximately the same strategy.

I spent 2013–2014 on Young Judaea Shalem, the Modern Orthodox track of Year Course. Israel was already a significant part of my life. My dad is American, my mom is Israeli, I grew up speaking Hebrew, and I had spent several years of my childhood living in Ra’anana. Returning at 17 was different. For the first time, I was beginning to build a life of my own.

During Shalem, I spent months living and volunteering on Kibbutz Yavne and in Jerusalem, traveling around the country, and participating in Marva, an IDF immersion program.

Shalem was my first real taste of the particular freedom that comes with being young, away from home, and surrounded by other people who are also figuring out who they are. When you live and travel together, friendships develop at warp speed. Someone you’ve known for three weeks can feel like an old friend, and ordinary experiences become stories you’ll tell for years.

I didn’t know it then, but that feeling would eventually become central to my debut novel, The Road to Us.

From Shalem to the tiyul gadol

After Shalem, I returned to New York for college. But Israel wasn’t finished with me just yet.

I moved back and served in the IDF’s International Relations Unit. When my service ended, I participated in an unofficial Israeli institution: the tiyul gadol.

Like countless Israelis before me, I packed a backpack and headed to South America.

There, I encountered an entire ecosystem thousands of miles from Israel that felt unmistakably Israeli.

Years later, I realized that for such a recognizable part of contemporary Israeli culture, I rarely saw the tiyul gadol represented in English-language fiction.

I decided to write the book I wanted to read.

Turning a familiar world into fiction

The Road to Us follows Sophia Jacobs, a Jewish New Yorker who joins her Israeli friend Camille on a backpacking trip through South America. When they link up with a few Israeli backpackers for a road trip through Patagonia, their journey takes an unexpected turn.

While the novel is fictional, I drew on my own travels to build the world surrounding the characters.

I knew the feeling of arriving somewhere with a backpack and no real idea what the next few weeks would look like. I knew the intensity of friendships formed while traveling and the Israeli backpacking culture I wanted to capture: the humor, Chabad dinners, hostel life, overnight buses, and sense that normal life had temporarily been put on hold.

At its heart, The Road to Us is about what happens when you leave the version of yourself everyone knows at home and discover who you might be somewhere else. Young Judaea Year Course was one of my first opportunities to experience that myself.

My own background also shaped the perspective from which I wrote the story. I’ve spent much of my life moving between American and Israeli culture: growing up in both countries, spending a gap year in Israel, serving in the IDF, and eventually backpacking with Israelis abroad. Sophia enters the novel largely from the American side of that equation, and the Israeli travelers she meets introduce her to another way of thinking about Jewish identity, adulthood, and home.

Over a decade later

When I think about my 17-year-old self arriving on Year Course in 2013, I certainly don’t think she expected the experience to become part of the creative DNA of a novel she’d publish more than a decade later.

We don’t always know which experiences are going to stay with us. It could be living on a kibbutz at 17, a deep friendship formed far from home, a conversation with someone you never see again, or a journey you don’t realize changed you until years later.

I hope The Road to Us captures some of that feeling.

There’s romance, backpacking mishaps, hostel nights, so much Hebrew, and the gorgeous landscapes of Patagonia. I wanted readers to feel, for a few hundred pages, as though they’d thrown on a backpack and joined the trip themselves.

Underneath the adventure, it’s a story about being young, stepping outside the life you know, and discovering how much the people you meet along the way can change you.

Young Judaea Shalem was one of the first times I discovered how much leaving home can change the way you see the world, and yourself.

Read The Road to Us

The Road to Us by Abby Adler is available now on Amazon in paperback and Kindle.

Paperback: Read the Road to Us in Paperback
Kindle: Read The Road to Us on Kindle

For more book updates, behind-the-scenes writing content, travel, and book recommendations, follow @abbyadlerwrites on Instagram and Substack.

A Conversation with Amiram Mainz

Forty years after arriving in the United States as Young Judaea’s Central Shaliach, Amiram Mainz brought together the group of Israeli shlichim who served alongside him from 1986 to 1989.

Nearly 20 former shlichim gathered in Israel to reconnect, share memories and reflect on an experience that shaped their lives and strengthened the relationship between Israeli and American Jews.

What was your role with Young Judaea?

I became the Central Shaliach in 1986 and moved to New York with my wife and our four children. At the time, our delegation included 13 shlichim and shlichot, most of whom came with their families. They were based throughout the United States, from New York and Washington, D.C., to Florida, Texas, Michigan and California.

I worked with Young Judaea’s national professional staff, the National Mazkirut and Hadassah, which was Young Judaea’s sponsor at the time. I also traveled frequently to meet with regional directors, shlichim and camp leadership around the country.

It was never only my experience. It was something my wife and our entire family took part in together.

Why did you decide to organize a reunion now?

It had been exactly 40 years since we began our shlichut, and I had been thinking about bringing everyone together for several years.

As you get older, you realize that you should not wait. There were some people I had not spoken with in 30 or 35 years. In the end, around 17 or 18 people attended, which was about 80 to 85 percent of the group. Everyone arrived with a smile on their face. It was incredible.

What did you do during the reunion?

We wanted it to include more than simply mingling, although reconnecting was very important.

We sang Israeli songs, shared stories from our shlichut and heard updates about Young Judaea and the Israeli Scouts today. Everyone sent photographs from their years in the United States, and we created a presentation filled with memories from 35 and 40 years ago.

We spent about four hours together, and it was wonderful.

What memories from Young Judaea have stayed with you most?

Tel Yehudah made the strongest impression on me. It offered an intensive experience centered on Jewish and Zionist education in a way that was difficult to recreate through programs meeting only occasionally during the year.

At the time, Young Judaea had thousands of chanichim who could grow through local clubs, regional programs, camps, Israel experiences and Year Course. It created a path that helped young people deepen their connection to Jewish history, Zionism and Israel.

Through our work, we also learned to understand the American Jewish community much better. We learned how to work together and speak to one another at eye level.

What did your shlichut mean to you personally?

It was one of the most fascinating and challenging experiences of my life.

I traveled constantly and was often away from home, but it was for a good cause. I believe that our delegation helped strengthen the connection between American Jewish youth, Zionism and Israel.

Young Judaea was a huge and important part of my life. I still have friends in the United States from that period, and I do not regret the experience for even one minute. I have only good memories.

Do you plan to stay connected after the reunion?

We now have a WhatsApp group, and I hope we will continue using it to share memories and stay in touch.

The reunion was a dream I had carried for several years. Now that we have found one another again, I hope we can keep those relationships alive.

For Sharon Schoenfeld, Young Judaea has been more than a chapter in her life. It has been a thread running through nearly every stage of her personal and professional journey. Sharon joined Young Judaea at age 12 and went on to become involved in regional YJ, attending Tel Yehudah, serving on the National Mazkirut, going on Year Course, and working at Camp Sprout Lake. In the early 1990s, she became Young Judaea’s Education Director, an experience that helped shape her decision to make Aliyah in 1996.

Sharon lived in Israel for 11 years, working for Young Judaea for eight of them in roles ranging from summer programming to Merkaz Hamagshimim for young Judaea’s combination absorption and community center for young English speaking Olim.  Becoming fluent in Hebrew was an important goal and played a significant role in her professional and personal success. After returning to the United States, she continued her work with YJ, eventually serving as Director of U.S. Programs.

Today, Sharon has brought together many of the passions that first took root in Young Judaea: Hebrew, Israel, experiential education, and camp. Through her work with Kayitz Kef, Sharon helps Jewish camps create deeper, more intentional opportunities for campers to experience Hebrew as a living language.

Kayitz Kef was conceived of and supported by the Areivim Philanthropic Group under the leadership of Rabbi David Gedzelman, a Young Judaea parent. When Sharon joined the organization, the program was working with 12 camps. Today, Kayitz Kef supports Hebrew immersion programs and engagement programs at over 50 day and overnight camps across North America.  Including strong partnerships with CYJ Texas, Camp Judaea, CYJ Midwest, CYJ Sprout Lake, and Tel Yehudah. Sprout Brooklyn Day Camp has developed one of the strongest Hebrew immersion programs in the entire Kayitz Kef network.

“We really change the use of Hebrew at the camps from ‘word of the day’ to something a lot deeper,” Sharon said.

That can look different at every camp because Kayitz Kef begins with what is already there: the people, the places, and the times when Hebrew can naturally become part of camp life. Who are the Hebrew speakers? Where can Hebrew fit into activities and routines? When are the moments in the day when it can be used with real meaning and intention? From there, camps build Hebrew into sports, gardening, cooking, signage, songs, and everyday interactions. The goal is always bigger than vocabulary. It is about using Hebrew to deepen relationships and strengthen campers’ connection to Israel and Israelis.

Sharon’s journey is closely connected to her longtime mentor, Dr. Vardit Ringvald, a leading expert in Hebrew pedagogy and teacher training. Vardit first came to Tel Yehudah in 1972 as a 16-year-old tzofah and was asked to engage campers in Hebrew, an experience that helped shape her life’s work in Hebrew education. Ten summers later, Sharon was a camper there, beginning her own journey toward Israel and Hebrew. Vardit has guided her throughout her development as a Hebrew educator.

For Sharon, this work is deeply connected to Young Judaea’s Zionist mission. “If Young Judaea is a Zionist movement, and they are still bringing shlichim to camp and teaching kids about Israel, then Hebrew is a great way to create a bridge,” she said. “There’s no disconnecting Israel from the Hebrew language.”

Research has backed up what Sharon has seen firsthand. A 2022 study found that campers in Hebrew immersion programs ended the summer with stronger Hebrew skills, closer relationships with their counselors, and a stronger connection to Israel and Israelis.

Decades after her own first experiences in Young Judaea, Sharon is bringing her work back to the camps and movement that played such an important role in her own path. Through her work with Kayitz Kef, she is helping a new generation of campers experience Hebrew not just as something they learn, but as a living part of camp and Jewish culture.

The connection between Vardit’s summer at Tel Yehudah in 1972, Sharon’s experience there ten years later, and the work now taking place across Young Judaea camps and others demonstrates how Hebrew experiences at camp can shape lives, careers, relationships, and Jewish identity across generations.

Pictured Above:

TOP LEFT: Cooking Chug (in Hebrew) at CYJ Texas

TOP MIDDLE: Squeezing lemons for Israeli salad in the Sprout b’Ivrit program at Sprout Brooklyn

TOP RIGHT: Sharon’s second year as merakezet at Sprout Lake in 1987, she is on the bottom right

BOTTOM LEFT: Sprout Lake Kitchen

BOTTOM MIDDLE: Sharon on Year Course

A conversation with Alon Friedman, Founding Executive Director of “ENTER: The Jewish Peoplehood Alliance”, former Young Judaea employee and shaliach.

Q: What’s your connection to Young Judaea?
It’s funny — in the Jewish world, almost everyone seems to have some sort of Young Judaea connection. As an Israeli, it’s harder to “grow up” in Young Judaea, but I ended up working for the movement for nearly ten years, and it completely shaped my career.

My first role was in 1998 in the summer programs department. After the army, I worked summers as a madrich on Israel trips for different organizations. During one training seminar, Moshik Toledano spotted me and said, “I want you to work for Young Judaea.”

A few years later, after finishing my degree at Hebrew University, I called him and said, “Remember that offer? I’m ready now.” Amazingly, he remembered.

That became my first full-time role with Young Judaea, and from there I worked across teen programs, Israel summer programs, post-college programs, and even moved to New York when I served 3 years as the national shaliach for hamagshimim, focused on college campuses in North America.

Q: What impact did Young Judaea have on you personally?
Young Judaea really became the catalyst for everything I’ve done since.

Growing up as a secular Israeli, Jewish peoplehood and Diaspora Jewish life were somewhat of a blind spot. Then suddenly I was meeting Jewish teens and college students from around the world who felt deeply connected to Israel, even if they had never been there before.

Watching participants land in Israel for the first time and immediately feel at home was eye-opening for me as an Israeli. It changed how I understood Jewish identity and connection.

Young Judaea gave me the opportunity to spend years working in Jewish education, Israel engagement, and peoplehood. Later I became the first Executive Director of the WUJS Institute in Arad and made it a YJ department, and from there I moved on to becoming Director of Israel Operations for MASA Israel Journey and then Executive Director of Hillel Israel.

Q: How did the idea for ENTER’s One2One begin?
The seeds were planted when we established ENTER and were thinking about how to strengthen relationships between Israelis and Jews around the world through inter-personal connections.

Then COVID hit, and suddenly online connection became essential.

We approached Israel’s Ministry of Education with a simple idea: Israeli students need conversational English practice, so why not connect them online with English-speaking Jewish teens abroad?

For the Israeli school system, it was a first and foremost a language initiative program, but it was clear to all that we’re creating a platform for Jewish encounters and enhancing Jewish Peoplehood.

Q: What makes the One-to-One program different?
The magic is in the personal relationship.

It’s not a classroom, not a camp bunk, not a big Zoom group. It’s just two teenagers meeting one-on-one. We built a matching algorithm that pairs teens based on shared interests, hobbies, and personalities. Once matched, they meet regularly online and get to know each other naturally.

We created curriculum and conversation prompts, but honestly, sometimes they just end up talking about music, sports, or everyday life, and that’s part of the beauty of it.

Our philosophy is that we should focus a little less on “Israel as a curriculum” and a little more about “Israelis as people.” When teens build real friendships, curiosity grows naturally. That curiosity leads to learning, connection, and eventually commitment.

Q: Why do you think the program has resonated so strongly?
Because it feels real.

An Israeli teen and an American teen might initially join for completely practical reasons — one wants English credit, the other wants voucher points for a summer Israel trip, but then genuine friendships develop.

Over the years, participants have navigated COVID, October 7, rising antisemitism, and everyday teenage life together. We’ve seen friendships continue beyond the program, families connect, and teens visit each other in Israel and abroad.

What started as a pilot with 300 pairs has now grown to more than 15,000 teen participants worldwide.

Q: What’s next for Enter?
When it comes to teens’ encounters, our vision is simple: every Jewish teen in the Diaspora will have a friend is Israel”. Technology allows us to make that possible in a very personal and accessible way.

But, we also realized pretty early on, that what we had built wasn’t just a teen platform, it was a model for meaningful Jewish connections that can fit many other target crowds.

We recently launched a “Mother2Mother” pilot in partnership with Momentum, pairing Israeli and American Jewish mothers for one-on-one conversations. In the next few years, we intend to develop new algorithms and onboard additional audiences such as Jewish educators, Birthright alumni, Hillel students, grandparents etc. We aspire to become the “One Stop Shop for Online Jewish Encounters” for the entre Jewish world. We’ll get there…

Q: Looking back, how do you feel about Young Judaea today?
I honestly don’t think any of this would have happened without Young Judaea.

Young Judaea opened the door for me to understand Jewish peoplehood in a completely different way. It gave me the experiences, relationships, and values that eventually led to creating ENTER.

In many ways, everything I’m doing today started there.

Learn More about ENTER

In the photo from left to right: Mirele Goldsmith, Betsy Diamant-Cohen, Rabbi Hanan Schlesinger, and Sharon Green.

Young Judaea connections continue to span generations and geography. Recently, alum Sharon Green hosted an event for the Israeli-Palestinian peace organization Roots, bringing together a group of fellow Young Judaea alumni through a remarkable web of shared history and connections.

Sharon, a longtime Judaean who attended Young Judaea programs from Sprout Lake through Year Course 1997–1998, was connected to fellow alum Mirele Goldsmith through a mutual YJ friend. Mirele was helping organize a Baltimore gathering featuring Rabbi Hanan Schlesinger, also a Young Judaea alum, who was visiting from Israel to expand support for Roots which he helped to found in 2014. Together, Sharon and Mirele co-hosted the evening and invited Betsy Diamant-Cohen, yet another local YJ alum, who had been Mirele’s high school madricha in Brookline, MA. — only to discover that Betsy and Hanan had been on Year Course together years earlier!

The gathering brought more than 40 people into Sharon’s living room and became more than just an informational event; it was a meaningful Young Judaea reunion spanning decades of shared experiences and connections.

Hanan will be back in the USA October 25 to November 15 2026 and would love to have other YJ alumni host similar events wherever they may live in the USA. He can be contacted at: ravhanan@gmail.com

Q&A with some of the Alumni

What is your Young Judaea background?
Betsy: YJ Tsofim Club in Stamford, CT 7th – 8th grade. Bogrim Club 9-12 grade. TY 1971-1974. One of the first two kitchen girls at TY, summer of 1974 (dishwasher!), National Mazkira 1974-1975, Year Course Section 3 1976-1977, Editor of the Hamagshimim Journal 1977-78.  Madricha of YJ clubs in Massachusetts 1977-1979. Made aliyah 1986 and lived in Jerusalem until moving to Baltimore in1998.

My husband was in British Habonim on Machon, and used Kibbutz Keturah as his home base when he was a lone soldier. One of our three children went to Sprout Lake; all three went to TY.

Sharon: Sprout Lake 1988–1992, TY 1993–1996, Year Course 1997–1998, Staff at Sprout 1997, Staff at TY 1998–1999, and year-round programming with NJ/Ganei Yehudah.

How did it feel to collaborate with fellow YJ alumni you hadn’t met before?
Betsy: I loved it! Even though Sharon and I had never met before, there was an immediate sense of kinship.

Sharon: It was incredibly rewarding to collaborate with fellow YJ alumni. Knowing we were all Judaeans established a baseline of trust and shared history from the first emails. Young Judaea is a non-partisan, pluralist Zionist movement and I was proud that this event was a true representation of what that means to me.

Tell us a bit about Roots and why you are involved.
Betsy: Roots is an organization that brings together Jews and Muslims living in Israel and helps build and sustain a multicultural community. I didn’t know about Roots before Hanan’s presentation, but now that I do, I’m happy to spread the word.

Sharon: Roots is unique among peace organizations in Israel because it is based in the West Bank and works to bring together settlers and their Palestinian neighbors through dialogue and relationship-building. I’m involved because any path toward peaceful coexistence starts with dialogue and dignity, and I’m grateful to support those leading the way.

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Back in January, Rabbi Adam Drucker, Director of Education for Young Judaea Israel, traveled across the U.S. to reconnect with Year Course alumni on college campuses.

Over the course of the tour, Rabbi Adam visited five key campuses and engaged with more than 180 students, including over 100 Young Judaea program alumni. Gatherings took place at Binghamton University, UT Austin, Tulane University, Rutgers University, and the University of Miami.

Alumni enjoyed the opportunity to catch up and stay engaged with the Young Judaea community!

By Ayelet Medjuck-Bruckner, Year Course 2025-26

I hadn’t spent most of my time running to bomb shelters until a week ago, but five weeks of war has still changed everything. In February, I was volunteering with Magen David Adom as a certified first responder, riding in the back of ambulances in Tel Aviv, building a routine. When the war started, that stopped. No more shifts. No more normal schedule.

War isn’t just about sirens. It’s about learning how to adjust to a reality that keeps changing.

At the beginning of my gap year in Israel, I remember asking if there was a miklat in the bathroom. I meant miklachat–a shower. Everyone laughed. I didn’t really understand the difference then. Now I do. Now I know exactly where the nearest miklat is wherever I go. 

At around 8:30 in the morning on February 28th, I woke up to the sound of a siren. I had slept through the initial Home Front Command warning. Now our instructions were stark: “Enter the protected space. Time: one and a half minutes.”

“Is this real?” I asked my roommate.

We grabbed whatever we could and ran. Phone, water bottle, book. Our counselor was yelling, “This is serious– go, go!”

We squeezed into the shelter, everyone still in pajamas. I was fully awake. It felt like being slapped in the face and then forced to sprint.

Later, we were told to pack. Twenty minutes. One suitcase. “One week.”

I knew it wouldn’t be one week.

As I rolled my suitcase towards the chartered bus, people were sitting at cafes, walking their dogs, and talking with friends. It felt surreal. Almost like a joke–a group of American teenagers rushing through the streets of Tel Aviv with suitcases, while life around us looked completely normal. At first, I didn’t understand them. But after weeks of war I now see things differently. It’s the resilience that I’ve heard so much about and now I’m seeing it first-hand.

We were evacuated to Kibbutz Ketura near Eilat, a kibbutz that was founded decades ago by passionate members of our very own movement, Young Judaea. Not completely without sirens but far enough from the barrage. Far enough from our dorm near the Kiryah (IDF Headquarters) in Tel Aviv where nearby streets were blown up by a ballistic missile in the earliest days of the war. 

In Ketura we were safe and the people there welcomed us with open arms, plates of cookies, and sweet sticky dates. We unpacked, unsure how long we would stay. Days filled with random activities, meals together, volunteering in the kitchen, engaging with people in the special needs program, and filling sandbags for security. We were trying to create some kind of structure for our time there and also be useful. Life didn’t stop–it just looked different.

And somehow, a lot of it was funny. Not actually funny. But we laughed. We laughed when a friend ran to the safe room in a towel from the shower. We laughed at how absurd everything felt. Sometimes it was real laughter, and sometimes it felt like the only possible response. Laughter was the perfect release, helping us cope and make things feel normal.

We adapted quickly. Six people in a room because that’s what was available. Sharing clothes, especially for Shabbat. I lent out skirts and dresses to girls who hadn’t packed enough. We sat together when we were sad. We cried together. We hugged each other in silence. We celebrated when our friend committed to her college for next year and for birthdays we bought cakes and balloons from the kibbutz makolet (store). At night, we sat around bonfires, listening to music, talking, laughing. For a few hours, it could feel like nothing else existed. We forced each other to get out of bed, to go on walks, to move, to keep going. It wasn’t just about passing time. It was about taking care of each other.

Through everything, life kept happening in strange ways. I was in the gym in Eilat when a siren went off so I ran into a bomb shelter with a group of sweaty strangers. A few minutes later, I was having a conversation with a random girl who gave me her nail technician’s phone number. 

Life just… continued. 

On the kibbutz, I found meaningful ways to grow. I prayed every day. I led Kabbalat Shabbat for the entire kibbutz community. I leyned Torah for the first time since my Bat Mitzvah. And then I even leyned again the next week. It has felt incredible to step up in these ways and connect with my Judaism more deeply during this time. 

I met people I never would have met otherwise. I practiced fire spinning with someone on the kibbutz who lent me his spinning staff. I spent Shabbat afternoons talking with new people who quickly felt familiar. Several other overseas programs also spent time in Ketura during these weeks, so we all played a lot of Jewish geography and on Purim we came together to read and hear megillah.

In the middle of all of this, my grandfather passed away in New York–and it was impossible for me to fly home for his funeral. I had known this moment was coming, but hearing about it so far from home felt unreal. Everything stopped. My friends sat with me, hugged me, and didn’t try to fix anything. This togetherness got me through.

After that first week on the kibbutz, I realized I had to be proactive. It would have been easy to shut down, to feel stuck in the uncertainty of war. But I needed to take care of myself– physically, emotionally, mentally. Art helped with that. I painted for hours, sitting quietly with the mountains and trees. It gave me space to think, to process, to reconnect. I committed to spending more time moving my body and running loops of the perimeter of the kibbutz.

Now I’m thinking a lot about what my next few weeks will look like. We left Ketura and returned to Tel Aviv, despite the ongoing war. Now I am in the cycle of frequent sirens and shelters. Some of us dispersed to family and friends throughout Israel for Pesach, some of my friends figured out ways to go abroad to visit but hope to return to Israel as soon as possible. I almost didn’t get to Jerusalem for Seder when I was delayed by four sirens in two hours and a cancelled train. Throughout the country, Seder night was disrupted by countless sirens. Everyone is navigating uncertainty in real time.

I really hope my Magen David Adom internship starts up again soon. Most of all, I am eternally grateful for the tireless efforts of all Year Course staff. They have worked incredibly hard to keep us feeling safe and engaged with programming, obviously all year long but especially now – even as they juggle the complexities and challenges of war with their own families. All of their backup plans have backup plans, and that has really mattered lately.

This experience is exposing me to a reality I hadn’t fully understood before:

People who can’t just leave.

Families adjusting overnight, night after night.

Showers and sleep frequently interrupted by sirens.

Peers serving in the IDF.

People called up to the reserves. 

Lives put on hold–or completely changed. 

I came to Israel as someone choosing to be here for one year. That choice feels different now.

What is staying with me throughout this war isn’t the fear, or even the uncertainty.  It’s the way people show up for each other. 

The way friends become family.

The way strangers become familiar.

The way life continues, even while we are still figuring out how to make it all make sense.

The way public space and personal space are jumbled together. Because in Israel, especially in moments like this, being together isn’t optional.

It’s everything.

 HINEH MAH TOV UMA NAYIM– HOW BEAUTIFUL IT IS WHEN WE SIT TOGETHER!

Written by several members of the 1964 YC shicva.

60 years(!) ago, 52 Young Judaeans left New York via 2 passenger liners — first to La Havre, France, and then from Marseille to Haifa. We arrived in Israel on October 7, 1964 and were the last Year Course to travel to Israel by boat.

On September 26-29, 2024,17 (33%) of us (and a few spouses) gathered in San Francisco for our 60th Reunion. Given our average age of 78 (40% are no longer living or have not been found), being together was extraordinary.  It wasn’t just because we came from both coasts, Israel and Italy, but much more because of the loving memories we had of the outstanding year we had spent together, the many friendships we formed then that have lasted a lifetime, and the lives that were changed because of our Year Course experience.

On Thursday evening, we began our reunion in a private room in the oldest Italian restaurant in San Francisco (located in the Hotel San Remo, which is ironically the namesake of our Jerusalem dormitory). The emotional hugs and joy we shared were tearful and moving.  Some of us hadn’t seen or been in contact with one another for 60 years.

On Friday, we ferried back and forth to Sausalito, reminiscing over the boat rides we had taken to Israel. Shabbat dinner was hosted by one of our chevra at a nearby home, and we made every moment we had together count.

On Saturday, we toured the Contemporary Jewish Museum, visited the Yerba Buena Gardens and Martin Luther King Memorial Fountains, and spent quality time renewing our friendships and sharing our individual histories.  That night, we had a catered dinner aboard the spectacularly renovated Historic Klamath “ferry” (permanently docked, adjacent to the SF Ferry Building). 

We viewed a kaleidoscope of photos and videos from over the years (on multiple screens), sang our favorite Year Course songs, and expressed our personal thoughts about the significant impact that Year Course made on our lives. We were welcomed by a video from YJ CEO Adina Frydman, and two of our chevra (YJ Board members) updated us on the activities and successes of Year Course and other YJ Israel-related programs.

When we said Shalom on Sunday morning, our hearts were full of love and appreciation for our Year Course and for each other. We are already planning the next reunion!  Forward, Together….