By Adina Frydman, Young Judaea CEO, after traveling to Israel on an Alumni Volunteer trip in January 2024

I am on a plane on my way home from leading a Young Judaea alumni trip to Israel, where we spent 6 days volunteering, bearing witness by hearing stories from survivors, victims, and heroes, and seeing firsthand the physical, emotional, and spiritual toll of this war. The alumni spanned from ages 35 to 75 and represented a range of Young Judaea experiences from our summer camps to our gap year, to our year-round youth programming. What united us was the single-minded mission we were on: to listen, to learn and to help.

This is the first trip to Israel I have led since October 7^th, and I had assumptions of what Israel might be like at this time, but what I could not have been prepared for was the atmosphere/the avira of unfolding trauma in Israel. It is very hard to process or move on when it is not yet over. Everyone has a personal connection, someone lost, someone missing, someone serving in or near Gaza or on the Lebanon border. What you feel when talking to people is that there has been a rupture. Not only because of the profound losses but also because of many of the things that Israelis held to be true are now in question.

One thing that is certain is the tremendous resiliency that is emerging in the form of volunteerism, and it is a great unifier. Israelis are a living example of “kol Israel areyvim ze ba zeh” – one caring for the other. Everywhere you look there are acts of hesed/kindness. Families setting up pop up restaurants in gas stations to serve food to soldiers, massive collection and distribution sites led by volunteers to provide essentials to displaced families, individuals taking time off of work to help farmers with their farms, so their harvests are not spoiled, and hundreds more examples of a civil society being built from the grass roots up.

Most Israelis have a clear sense of what needs to be done now, bringing the hostages home, versus what will need to be done when the war is over. They are still very much in it, and clear about the unity that should prevail at this time. As I look around, I see that people are tired, disillusioned, and conflicted. This is the most honest and vulnerable I have seen Israel in my lifetime. Perhaps it is from this authentic and raw place that we will figure out what tomorrow will look like.

As we wrapped up our trip, we wondered how we would bring home what we learned.

There is no simple answer to the question, “how was it?” but we are each bringing back the stories of individuals, the stories that reveal the pain of the loss and the pride of the heroism, the agony of the waiting, and the joy that persists in everyday living. Weddings are still taking place, babies are still being born, and life goes on – it is the ultimate act of resistance. We have a responsibility to share their stories, to show them they are not alone and that we are with them. Everywhere we turned people thanked us, thanked us? Can you believe it? Having given the ultimate sacrifice, it was us who should be thanking them. But the truth is that they feel incredibly isolated, alone, and tired. If each of us took the time in the coming months to go to Israel and to do our small part by listening, hugging, and volunteering, it would help us collectively heal and find the inner strength to figure out what’s next and how we can move together towards that future. No one has the answers now but it is clear that there is no going back to where we were, and it is not yet clear where we need to go.

As the CEO of Young Judaea, one of the oldest Zionist youth movements in North America I spend a lot of time thinking about today’s Jewish youth and their connection to Israel. I am very concerned. This moment has revealed some deep cracks in our approach to Israel education. While this moment has pulled some closer to Israel, it has pushed many further away. We cannot ignore the North American context within which we live that gives preference to universal values over particular/nationalistic ones. We cannot ignore that a large segment of our Jewish youth got the memo about caring about humanity, and although this is a great thing, somehow it creates a blind spot when it comes to Israel because it doesn’t fit neatly in the narrative for us to be the oppressed. We cannot ignore that even Israelis have found a way to love and to criticize Israel but that somehow for North Americans, Israel has become so precious, the narrative so polished that we created an impossible ideal, one built mostly on hasbara/advocacy, that is sure to disappoint.

Our teens, college students and young adults are lost at this moment. We have not prepared them, and we have only fed into the binaries of left and right and pro or anti that are driving them out instead of keeping them connected.

At Young Judaea, we talk about a Zionist big tent, a safe space for youth to learn about, engage with, and think critically about Israel. Underlying is a deep and unwavering Ahavat Israel, not a love specifically of Israeli government or military policies of any given moment, but an abiding love for the Israel that ought to be. The Israel of our Zionist dreams and the one that we commit to work towards. Alongside that love of Zionism is a commitment to tikkun olam, to repairing the broader world. A commitment to both our particular and universal ideals. We don’t have to choose; they can stand side by side. We marched for civil rights for African Americans AND for freeing of our soviet Jewry, we advocate for humanitarian aid for Gazans AND condemn the horrific massacre against our people enacted by Hamas. We can proclaim that “all people matter” AND that we have a unique responsibility to our Jewish community.

The most vulnerable among us at this moment are those who closely align with social justice causes and communities yet feel deeply connected yet conflicted about Israel. They have been shunned by their fellow social justice advocates simply because they are Jewish, and anti-Israel and anti-Jewish sentiments are now co-mingled, yet they feel conflicted about an a purely pro-Israel approach. These young Jews are literally in no-man’s land, and we are at risk of losing them. How can we create a place in our tents for them? They represent the “troubled committed,” as Donniel Hartman would say.

Can we model the vulnerability and honesty of Israelis at this moment, acknowledging both the resolve and support while engaging in deep heshbon hanefesh, soul searching for what we want this nation-state of ours to become?  What is our role in that? How can we, as North American Zionist organizations model the unity that is so desperately needed to help us emerge triumphant in this moment.

Gil Troy, historian and scholar of Zionism, and Young Judaea alum, said it this way during the closing talk of our trip. Everywhere in Israel we see the words, “B’yachad N’natzeach”. But N’natzeach is not necessarily only about a military victory, it is about the fact that together, only in unity, will we triumph, rebuilding our individual and collective spirit, our inter and intra community relationships, our civil society, enacting our historic and renewed Zionist ideals. Although alone we may feel defeated, together, we will prevail.

I was struck with the group traveling how connected we felt at the end of the trip, yes, we had experienced something transformational and been vulnerable together, but more than that, it was the experience of this trip that reignited our Young Judaean ideals. Deep down within each of us is that optimistic child, who, fueled by their idealism and encouraged by their group of friends, can work toward a better tomorrow. That is the ageless power of being part of this movement.

Several months following the October 7th attacks on Israel, 30 Young Judaea Alumni embarked on a transformative volunteer trip in Israel. The group spent time volunteering with various organizations, heard stories from survivors and heroes of the war, attended a panel of YJ Alum living in Israel, spent an evening with Year Course and had Shabbat at Kibbutz Ketura.

Below are excerpts from journals and reflections of the participants:

Talia Goldin

✈ How was it? I’m asked, as I think back to sharing a hotel with over 150 displaced families, who can’t go home because their communities have been destroyed.

🏡 How was it? I’m asked, as I recall our conversations with Nova Festival survivors, first responders, and kibbutzniks, who have been through hell and back – seeing atrocities nobody should ever have to witness, who lost loved ones violently in front of their eyes.

💔 How was it? I’m asked, as I think about the farm that supplies 80% of the country’s cucumbers, desperately appreciative we had come to volunteer, because they should have 35 workers and now they only have 2.

🧺 How was it? I’m asked, as I remember the faces of 130+ hostages, still in Hamas captivity, plastered on every wall, every building, every walkway.

🏢 How was it? I’m asked, as I think back to 10 days in my beloved country, a place whose people are crying and broken. Who are begging for the world to stand with them, but are being met by more hate.

Things will never be the same in Israel, but I will always be there for you, especially when you need me. To learn, to help, to hug, to listen. I stand with you forever and always.

💙 Am Yisrael Chai 💙

Rachel Plafker Esrig

Each resident that we met was quick to tell us their individual October 7th story. The entire country was, analogously, like the United States on September 12, 2001. Speaking slowly, with precise diction and obvious emotion, we witnessed Israelis in some yet unspecified stage of shock, but needing to share their experience as a step in their eventual healing. We had meals with many friends and acquaintances during our week. They had all lost count of the many shivas they had attended.  And again, each one needed to share in order to process. They needed us to know about their trauma: their murdered or kidnapped relatives, their newfound lack of trust given that they had believed relations with Gazan had rested on something akin to mutual respect and personal interactions.

The other prevailing message was one of gratitude.  By just stepping on Israeli soil, we had already helped.   They could not believe that middle aged, “comfortable” Americans had taken time out of their daily lives and jobs to pick their weeds, irrigate fields, clean their childrens’ toys, but most of all:  to listen.  They felt seen, heard and understood, to the best of our insufficient abilities.  We felt like human sponges, soaking all their sadness.

Read the Full Blog Here

 

Ann Baker Ronn

We visited the Bedouin village of Rahat and heard an unbelievable story of Bedouin Police Officer Ramo who saved over 200 lives at the Nova Music Festival. He arrived around 6 AM for his shift (a way to make extra money for his family) and soon after he arrived hundreds of rockets started. He and a colleague took a photo in front of the festival tent saying if they survived the photo would be a memory of their morning.

When the Hamas Terrorists arrived, he witnessed 26 other officers killed, leaving only 10 police officers to assist the 3500 attendees. His regular job is a homicide detective. His car was hit by a RPG so he searched for a car that had gas and keys in it. Once he located a car with keys and gas he drove frantically to gather young people into the car.  He drove them to safety in nearby greenhouses.

Read the Full Blog Here

Rabbi Neal I Borovitz

From the military cemetery on Mount Herzl we proceeded to Hadassah Hospital where we fulfilled the Mitzvah of Bikur Holit , visiting the sick, including a police officer who was wounded in Sderot on October 7th by the Hamas terrorists who invaded Israel. We also met with a Haddassah nurse who had just returned from active duty in Gaza. In addition to describing for us the emotional experience of delivering  a Palestinian baby under fire in Gaza, he described for us  the  experience of  rescuing wounded soldiers from battle in an “ open Humvee”. This nurse’s description of both saving soldiers and delivering a Palestinian child, while under fire in Gaza, coupled  with the story I heard from a friend that night regarding her son in law’s experience in riding along as the” protection “ on one of these rescue vehicles, I have come to a new level of realization of how ingrained in the psyche and souls of Israelis is the Talmudic teaching of the ultimate value of every single human life, Jew or Non Jew.

Read the Full Blog Here

 

Adina Frydman

There is no simple answer to the question, “how was it?” but we are each bringing back the stories of individuals, the stories that reveal the pain of the loss and the pride of the heroism, the agony of the waiting, and the joy that persists in everyday living. Weddings are still taking place, babies are still being born, and life goes on – it is the ultimate act of resistance. We have a responsibility to share their stories, to show them they are not alone and that we are with them. Everywhere we turned people thanked us, thanked us? Can you believe it? Having given the ultimate sacrifice, it was us who should be thanking them. But the truth is that they feel incredibly isolated, alone, and tired. If each of us took the time in the coming months to go to Israel and to do our small part by listening, hugging, and volunteering, it would help us collectively heal and find the inner strength to figure out what’s next and how we can move together towards that future. No one has the answers now but it is clear that there is no going back to where we were, and it is not yet clear where we need to go.

Read the Full Blog Here

Chuck Fox

Read Chuck’s detailed recount of stories from survivors and heroes of the war, as told to the group in Israel.

Vivian Genn-Pittman

I was nervous and also excited to go to Israel during this uncertain time.

Once in Israel, my heart was both broken and full. I was emotional, and grateful to be there.

I was inspired to be in Israel, to be in our beautiful country, our Jewish homeland, and to see people coming together to help, repair and move forward with strength.

In Israel, I laughed with family and friends, and cried at the devastating loss and ongoing challenges. I learned from soldiers within and close to my family about the unbelievable situations they face daily, and spoke with people who have lost loved ones or are waiting for loved ones to return home. I listened to one cousin decide which funeral to attend as she had two in one day, another explain the great measures the IDF takes to preserve all civilian life, and yet another explain how she and other psychologists are completely overwhelmed by the enormous and seemingly never-ending needs of a traumatized society.

Read the Full Blog Here

 

Tracie Basch

A lot can be said of Israelis. I liken them to a sabra fruit – hard and prickly on the outside, but once you crack that outer skin, it is soft and sweet. The shell is there out of necessity. How else can over 130,000 people be displaced from their homes, moved into hotels and yet still smile and laugh?

Read the Full Blog Here

An Insightful and Emotional Journey in Israel

By Rabbi Neal I Borovitz

Rabbi Emeritus Temple Avodat Shalom River Edge NJ

YJ Alum, Participant on the YJ Alumni Volunteer Trip in Israel, January 2024

In Mishna Peah we learn that among the Mitzvot that are “beyond measure” are “Gemilut Hasadim” Deeds of Kindness. Our liturgy defines this category of action to include the affirmative actions of visiting the sick and comforting the bereaved.

On my most recent trip to Israel as part of a Young Judaea Volunteer group, (January 26-February 4)  I came to understand the true meaning of this teaching. I have been traveling regularly to Israel since 1968 when I spent my junior year of college in Israel. Over the last 56 years,  I have been to Israel in both joyous times and difficult days; at celebrations of peace and in times of war. Never before, even in the depths of the Intifada has my awe and admiration for the Israeli public been greater, as I experienced first hand average Israelis standing up for each other and reaching out to help each other in the face of the greatest existential crisis in the  history of Israel.

I specifically chose this Young Judaea trip because it was a week built around three days of volunteer service. I didn’t want to just bear witness to the tragedy of this war, but rather wanted to experience first hand the volunteer efforts that Israeli Civil society are undertaking

For two days we volunteered  with “Achim Bneshek”  Brothers in Arms, a volunteer group that arose a year ago as one of the leading organizers of the public protests against the Israeli government’s attack on the Court system. On October 7th, this protest group, led by retired and reserve military officers, pivoted from political action to social service. We volunteered at a vast distribution center that has been set up at the  Tel Aviv Expo convention center,  where supplies are gathered, sorted and distributed to the nearly 200,000 Israelis who have been displaced from their homes in both the North and South of Israel by this war. Packing boxes with food, hygiene supplies, clothing and toys requested by families, was truly a Mitzvah “ beyond measure”. Having met many multi generational families living in our hotel in Tel Aviv who have been displaced from both Sederet on the Gaza border and Kiryat Shmona on the Lebanon border who are recipients of packages such as we were preparing, made me feel both grateful and sad; Grateful that Israelis are saying through these action, Hineni, I am here to help my brethren, and sad that this is necessary.

Our third day of volunteering involved harvesting cucumbers on a Moshav. The majority of foreign workers who worked in agriculture have fled Israel following the Hamas invasion and massacre of October 7th. The overall labor shortage in  Israel is made even worse by the massive number of Israelis who have been called up to active duty. The depth of  gratitude of the farmer whose crops were helping to harvest was confirmation for many of us that our presence in Israel at this time was truly beyond measure.

While the focus of the Young Judaea trip was volunteering our time with NGO groups which have stepped into the void left by the government’s inability to meet the social service needs of hundreds of thousands of Israelis, I did have limited time to visit Israeli friends and to  hear their personal stories about how October 7th and the War, now in its sixth month,  have impacted them, their children and grandchildren and the families of every Israeli. The fear for the fate of the hostages, the concern for the soldiers on the front lines and their anger and frustration with both Hamas and the Israeli government was clear. So too was their determination to do their part to not only survive this war but to rebuild a better Israel.

These feelings were amplified  in meeting with the families of hostages and those murdered on October 7th  and listening to their anger and frustration with both the Israeli government’s inaction on October 7th and what they see as its non prioritizing of the fate of the remaining hostages. One of the most powerful experiences of the week was standing in the rain with parents at the grave  of their 24 year old daughter Gili,  who was  murdered at the Nova music festival. Members of our group knew Gili, who had been a counselor at  Young Judaea Camp Tel Yehudah this past summer.

Another poignant experience for me was Reading Amichai’s poem “The Diameter of the Bomb” and reciting memorial prayers on Mount Herzl at the fresh graves of soldiers who have fallen in Gaza.  The constant flow of strangers, friends and family, along with uniformed soldiers coming by to cry while expressing gratitude and love was overwhelming.

From the military cemetery on Mount Herzl we proceeded to Hadassah Hospital where we fulfilled the Mitzvah of Bikur Holit , visiting the sick, including a police officer who was wounded in Sderot on October 7th by the Hamas terrorists who invaded Israel. We also met with a Hadassah nurse who had just returned from active duty in Gaza. In addition to describing for us the emotional experience of delivering  a Palestinian baby under fire in Gaza, he described for us  the  experience of  rescuing wounded soldiers from battle in an “ open Humvee.” This nurse’s description of both saving soldiers and delivering a Palestinian child, while under fire in Gaza, coupled with the story I heard from a friend that night regarding her son in law’s experience in riding along as the” protection “ on one of these rescue vehicles, I have come to a new level of realization of how ingrained in the psyche and souls of Israelis is the Talmudic teaching of the ultimate value of every single human life, Jew or Non Jew.

On Friday on our way to spend Shabbat at Kibbutz Ketura, we stopped in a Bedouin community, Rahat near a Beer Sheva.  There we heard  the story of an Israeli Bedouin police officer who personally saved some 200 people from the Nova festival by continually driving out small groups of festival attendees to safety in his car. The officer, speaking to us in Hebrew, was adamant in not seeing his actions as heroic. Rather for him, it was his responsibility as a policeman, as an Israeli and as a human being. His regret was his inability to help more people.

Shabbat at Kibbutz Ketura offered the thirty of us who had traveled together a spiritual opportunity for reflection and left me with true hope for the future of Israel.

Ketura is a Kibbutz  founded 50 years ago  by Young Judaeans who had made Aliyah. Originally a kibbutz whose economy was based upon agriculture, Ketura is today the solar energy “engine” of Israel. In addition to the solar power it produces and sells, in Israel and Jordan that powers multiple communities on both sides of the border, its Arafat Institute is a world class research institute where Israelis, Jordanians and Palestinians work and study together.

In informal discussions before and after Shabbat services and in and around the dining hall, I was awed by the facts that the members of this Kibbutz community remained firmly committed to BOTH the security of Israel and safety of all its citizens, Jews and Arabs alike, but also equally committed to pursuing, what I believe is the awesome  task which, post October 7th has become an even greater imperative; a two state solution where Palestinians have the right and responsibility to live independently and at peace with Israel.

For more participant reflections click here

By Ann Baker Ronn, YJ Alum, Participant on the YJ Alumni Volunteer Trip in Israel, January 2024
We visited the Bedouin village of Rahat and heard an unbelievable story of Bedouin Police Officer Ramo who saved over 200 lives at the Nova Music Festival. He arrived around 6 AM for his shift (a way to make extra money for his family) and soon after he arrived hundreds of rockets started. He and a colleague took a photo in front of the festival tent saying if they survived the photo would be a memory of their morning.

When the Hamas Terrorists arrived, he witnessed 26 other officers killed, leaving only 10 police officers to assist the 3500 attendees. His regular job is a homicide detective. His car was hit by a RPG so he searched for a car that had gas and keys in it. Once he located a car with keys and gas he drove frantically to gather young people into the car.  He drove them to safety in nearby greenhouses. Each time he dropped a group, he was filled with fear as bullets and RPGs and rockets were going off above him and all around him. When he drove back to get more young festival attendees, he was in tears describing the hundreds of massacred bodies.

He is a homicide detective so he is used to seeing dead bodies. He shared that he was in shock how many dead bodies were on the grounds of the festival as well as littered along the roads. He had to drive through empty fields in order to avoid the bodies and the Hamas terrorists who were blocking the road so people could not escape. At one point he found another police officer (they both only had a handgun with them to protect themselves) & he invited the officer to join him. He said that having someone with him gave him more courage to continue returning to save the festival attendees. Each time he drove back into the chaos he told us he experienced so much fear yet continued to go back in multiple times, putting his life at risk. He showed us some videos and photos that he took during the several hours he rescued young people. There were many photos he could not share with us as they were too graphic. He shared a photo of his destroyed car and the owner of the car he found with keys in it that was full of gas so he could use it to save everyone.

Miraculously, neither Officer Rambo or the car he borrowed were hit by any bullets. After many hours of working non-stop to save Nova festival-goers he was driven home. He asked to be dropped away from his home so he could walk home and try to calm down before arriving home to be with his wife and children. His wife felt his presence and packed the children in to her car to meet him.  Inside the car there was silence other than many tears shed by Officer Ramo, his wife and his children. As you can see from the photos Officer Ramo is a small man.

When we told him he was a hero he disagreed and he said he was just doing “his job.” He has not had 1 day off since October 7 and he said he doesn’t want to take any time off to think about the trauma he experienced that day. Some people on our program tried to give him money to help his family and he told us he cannot accept money as he is a law enforcement officer. We all gathered around him taking photos and hugging him tightly.  When I hugged him, he would not let go. Office Ramo is one of the many brave Israeli citizens we met during our time in Israel.

For more participant reflections click here

By Rachel Plafker Esrig, YJ Alum, Participant on the YJ Alumni Volunteer Trip in Israel, January 2024

Like so many connected Diaspora Jews the day after the Hamas attack,  my husband Dave and I were desperate to go to Israel. We began to throw money at every plea for funds, every letter, every WhatsApp message, quickly maxing out our credit cards, reloading and donating again.  But no amount of clicking on internet links seemed sufficient.

Dave and I were among the lucky ones; we devised a tangible way to help.  Responding to multiple calls to bring duffle bags and necessary equipment to Israel, we bought Dave a ticket to Tel Aviv on October 29th, and enabled the transfer of arms, protective gear, medical equipment and more in a manic 36 hour venture.

Even that didn’t feel like enough.

I decided that my 55th birthday gift would be participating in a volunteer program. I was heartened by the response: my supportive boss said to me, “just let me know how much time you need.” I had already taken two weeks off from work. We signed up to spend a week volunteering with JNF.  I looked for and found a second program with Young Judaea, where my Zionist heart resides.

Those of us who have witnessed and eagerly volunteered in these programs struggle  to find the words that describe our experiences “Transformative, depressing, uplifting and gratifying” all seemed apt, but not sufficient. First night, I found myself in a beautiful hotel in the Negev, living among evacuee families. Not the usual sight in a hotel lobby: strollers, pajamas, guns and exhausted parents.

On our first day with JNF we set out for Kibbutz Gvulot, 11 km from Gaza, and thus particularly vulnerable. The kibbutz was so close to the border that victims from neighboring kibbutzim ran there during the attacks.   Donning gardening gloves, we weeded neglected flower beds, laid water pipes for irrigation, and spruced up the school in anticipation of the return of students some three months after their evacuation. Cleaning and polishing toys only brought home how suddenly these homes had been abandoned; they had been untouched for three months.

Each resident that we met was quick to tell us their individual October 7th story. The entire country was, analogously, like the United States on September 12, 2001. Speaking slowly, with precise diction and obvious emotion, we witnessed Israelis in some yet unspecified stage of shock, but needing to share their experience as a step in their eventual healing. We had meals with many friends and acquaintances during our week. They had all lost count of the many shivas they had attended.  And again, each one needed to share in order to process. They needed us to know about their trauma: their murdered or kidnapped relatives, their newfound lack of trust given that they had believed relations with Gazan had rested on something akin to mutual respect and personal interactions.

The other prevailing message was one of gratitude.  By just stepping on Israeli soil, we had already helped.   They could not believe that middle aged, “comfortable” Americans had taken time out of their daily lives and jobs to pick their weeds, irrigate fields, clean their childrens’ toys, but most of all:  to listen.  They felt seen, heard and understood, to the best of our insufficient abilities.  We felt like human sponges, soaking all their sadness.

Perhaps the most harrowing site we visited was the beautiful grove of trees that housed the Nova festival, where hundreds of young people were mercilessly slaughtered or kidnapped. The Jewish National Fund organized the planting of trees; both as a remembrance of young lives and to honor the holiday of  Tu b’shvat, that commemorates the New Year of the Trees. The field encased in a stunning grove of trees has now become hallowed ground, similar to Gettysburg or Ground Zero NYC.  Each young victim of the Oct 7^th massacre – those murdered and those kidnapped –  has a picture on a stand with candles and personal tributes scattered at their base.

I noticed a dark-skinned man with a white beard sobbing as he decorated  a picture of a beautiful young woman with rhinestone stickers.  I asked if he was a relative and he just shook his head no.  Later, as he walked away still crying, a friend and I offered him hugs.  With Indiana-accented English, this new citizen of Israel  explained that he comes there to pay tribute to those he feels do not get as many visitors.  “It’s just evil that was done here,” he said sobbing. “Pure Evil.

At the music festival site, we spoke to the soldiers currently responsible for collecting the bodies of our fallen.  They spoke with reverence of the opportunity to perform the ultimate mitzvah, one that the recipient can never repay. The other site we visited was no less wrenching: the (temporary) graves of the Kibbutz Be’eri slaughter. How can one describe seeing  whole families buried together? In the North, we stood with the parents of a young victim by her graveside and heard stories of her beautiful, positive soul.  We listened, cried and tried to comprehend the incomprehensible.

And we hugged.  Because words were insufficient.

Earlier in the week we had packed care packages – treats, socks, rations – for soldiers. The evening after the visit to the Nova site, we delivered the packages and danced with soldiers in a volunteer-run ‘staging area’ – complete with a band composed of special-needs soldiers. Also in the tent was a lending library, a haircut station, massage opportunities and tables devoted to backgammon.  I was introduced to heavy metal dancing there, that is, dancing a hora while avoiding bumping into a myriad of M16’s slung over every soldier’s shoulder. We danced with such joy and resolve.  “We will dance tonight, tomorrow we will fight.”

In the evenings, after our agricultural and other volunteer activities had ended for the day, we listened to a host of speakers. Professor Noah Ephron, from Bar Ilan, shared a chilling story of a collective of computer experts helping to find and identify victims, including the suggestion to see if migration patterns of birds of prey had changed. We also heard of Professor Ephron’s new concept of Zionism that emanates from our newfound appreciation for each other as victims of recrudescent anti-Semitism and the recognition we cannot survive in this world without each other.  We heard from many survivors, some who performed incredible heroic acts and now just want their lives back, and that the war no one asked for to end.

At the end of the Young Judaea volunteer week, we were asked to summarize our experience in one word.  The prevailing theme was one of gratitude and hope.  We were all reminded of the ability of Jews and Arabs to live together peacefully, as we saw in the halls of Seroka Medical Center in Beersheva and in the Beduoin  town of Rahat.  Israel will prevail, because she has no choice.   To paraphrase, Golda Meir, we Jews have a secret weapon. .. . we have no where else to go.   And we choose Life.

Am Yisrael Chai.

For more participant reflections click here

An interview with Young Judaean and American-Israeli Trauma Therapist, Lisa Fliegel.

What work are you currently doing for Israel?

I just returned from a month-long deployment at the evacuee hotels in Eilat. Following the Oct. 7th incursion and subsequent missile bombardments, 125,000 Israeli’s evacuated their communities and 60,000 of them evacuated to Eilat.

My Year Course buddy Becky Rowe’s son Lev- is in the leadership of Hashomer Hatzair and their Tzedek Centers which I have been involved with. On October 10th they deployed to 10 evacuee sites throughout Israel to set up educational frameworks and youth development programs. As a trauma specialist I have trained their teams in the past and so they asked me to join their team in Eilat.

I was stationed with Kibbutz Nir Oz which lost 185 people and had 74 kidnapped was in the Red Sea Hotel, as well as with Kibbutz Nir Yitzhak at the Ceasar Hotel. I provided secondary traumatic stress support for their teams, trauma training, clinical supervision and direct services to survivors. Now that I am back, I am doing community programs on my trip, providing stress support to Israeli families in the USA, and continuing to support the teams in Israel virtually.

What, if any, values or skills did you acquire in Young Judaea that led you to the work you are doing today?

I made aliyah to Ketura after Year Course and served in Nahal with Garin Nitzotz. I returned to the USA in 1996 for medical reasons but remain actively connected and go to Israel at least once a year.

In addition to the progressive Zionist values that underline my life’s work, the principles and practices of Positive Youth Development and Community Building are central in my work as a community trauma advocate and consultant. The values of social justice and personal accountability inherent to the learning community of YJ are the foundation of how I do my work. Specifically when I deployed to Israel with Hashomer Hatzair I was no stranger to the Youth Movement Blue Shirt, and fit right in to the Kabbalat Shabbat which were central to the healing and renewal of both the Kibbutzim and youth workers there.

What Young Judaea programs did you attend?

Local Club, New England Region Mazkirut, Tel-Yehudah, Year Course…life on Ketura

What’s one way people can get involved or help in your work?

Contribute to the Tzedek Centers and keep in touch to support my future deployments.

Read about Miriam Schler, Young Judaean and Executive Director of the Tel Aviv Sexual Assault Center.

[Warning: this article contains discussion of sexual violence.]

Growing up, Miriam Schler lived and breathed Young Judaea: each summer, all summer long, from Sprout Lake Kesher to Tel Yehudah MH, while active during the school year in Gesher Shalom and serving as AVP of the region. A daughter of Holocaust survivors, Miriam was raised knowing the importance of fighting for justice and against evil. Her experience at camp and in the YJ movement transformed those ideas into something one could and should actively pursue. Ani v’ata neshaneh et ha’olam became her rallying call and shapes her worldview to this day as Executive Director of the Tel Aviv Sexual Assault Crisis Center.

YJ opened Miriam’s eyes to life being less about scholastic achievement and material gain and more about envisioning and creating a better world. Strong madrichot and Golda Meir as the first woman prime minister of Israel got her thinking about gender roles and equality. When she decided to make aliyah, after graduating from the University of Michigan she knew that simply putting down roots in Israel would not be enough. It was cardinal for her to take an active part in tikkun olam, in making Israel, and the world, a better place.

Upon graduating with a law degree from Tel Aviv University, Miriam actively sought to volunteer. At the sexual assault center, she was excited to work on micro and macro levels: on the micro, impacting individual lives by validating experiences and providing medical, psychological, and legal aid; and on the macro, bringing a hushed-up problem to the forefront and effecting social change. In 2004 Miriam became Executive Director of the Center, and she points to skills such as contemplating problems and planning solutions cultivated in Etgar, creating community as experienced in MH, and the inspiring leadership examples of her madrichot and madrichim as lighting her way for the past two decades.

Under Miriam’s stewardship, the Center transformed from a tiny NGO into a powerhouse bringing the subject of sexual violence into the mainstream collective consciousness; facilitating groundbreaking programming for women, as well as for male survivors and survivors across the spectrum of Israeli society; fielding 12,400 hotline crisis interventions; conducting educational outreach; and managing 250 volunteers.

The horrors of October 7^th have shined an unbearable spotlight on sexual violence and brutality. The Center is dealing with a precipitous rise in interventions for October 7^th survivors, witnesses, citizens exposed to graphic evidence, and especially for rape survivors triggered by evidence that continues to emerge. With Israel’s government in disarray, the Center has become an ER for psychological help and is pioneering resilience training for first responders, ZAKA volunteers, and therapists bearing witness to the unbearable. Miriam’s childhood vision of justice and fighting evil has been brought to bear in the most extreme circumstances.

Special circumstances require special measures. The Center’s annual Weekend Fashion Bazaar fundraiser, which raises 20% of the Center’s annual budget could not be held. And in September 2023 the government inexplicably cut 30% of state funding for all of Israel’s rape crisis center’s, and despite the current strain has not reinstated the cut budget. In these heart wrenching times and in honor of the important role Young Judaea played in inspiring Miriam’s life work, we would like to give readers the opportunity to contribute.

In Miriam’s words, may we all share in rebuilding this broken world.

Lean more and visit the Center’s website here

The Center is not only working hard to aid Israeli survivors, but we are also trying to raise consciousness worldwide regarding the deeply disturbing trend to “question the veracity” or even to justify the rapes that were perpetrated that day. Please read/watch and share:

• Op-ed Times of Israel: https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/the-obscene-betrayal-of-israelis-who-survived-and-didnt-survive-rape/
• November 29, 2023 on I24 News: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bbxdRLrN3lA
• December 5, 2023 on I24 News: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwPtsEvM1bA
• December 29, 2023 on NBC Nightly News https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mEjPe6S4Xo&t=85s
• January 7, 2024 on I24 News: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b47hRpm5ul4

Dear Students,

Thank you for showing up. 30,000 proud leading the historic march on Washington for Israel with a total of 300,000 strong.

On October 7^th everything changed for us as a people, for your generation and for mine too. But seeing you standing there in Washington on November 14^th, standing with pride, in unity and resolved to act, brought a ray of light to this ever so dark time in humanity’s history. You shared your thoughts and worries about the present and dreams and hopes for the future. The words you used that day gave us all permission to be afraid, while feeling strong; be confused, while having clarity; feel helpless while feeling empowered; feel shame while feeling pride. In your words, “a plurality of opinion and debate is important, it’s also very Jewish.” And I would add, it is quintessentially Young Judaean.

We are sorry.

What a world, what a world that you’ve inherited

Who ever thought that in our lifetime, “never again” would have been forgotten?

Who ever thought that in our beloved country, the one that welcomed your grandparents with open arms and the American dream,

There would be shouting of death to the Jews, from the river to the sea, an actual living nightmare.

This generation is the woke generation, and yet, for all our wokeness, we will never be one of them.

We will always remain other, but somehow, we are still seen as the oppressor and never as the oppressed.

Now, I am not saying we don’t have to check our immense privilege, and we do, it is on us to take responsibility for what we do.

But history is showing us that not even that privilege will protect us when they come for you.

So, you might ask, what is one to do?

Don’t be ashamed.

Stand proud, Shma Israel, for five thousand years our people have proclaimed their faith

Don’t lose your way.

Stand on principles, Am kadosh, we must earn our blessedness with every spoken word and action taken

Don’t be cynical.

Stand with idealism, B’emunah shlemah, and tap into that inner optimist

Don’t despair.

Stand with hope, Hatikvah, it is our secret Jew power

Don’t stand on the sidelines.

Stand ready to act, Na’ase v’nishma, we are a people of action and not just words

Don’t let them divide us.

Stand with open hearts, Am echad im lev echad, one heartbeat, one people

Don’t do this alone.

Stand together , Ani v’ata, Together, You and I will change the world.

As you return to your schools and campuses, we know we have a lot of work to do. But as it has been Jewish tradition for millennia, we refuse to stop celebrating when we’re together, we refuse to pause any practice of Judaism, and despite all the good and the bad, we will never stop choosing life.

Am Israel Chai.

With deepest admiration,

Adina Hocsman Frydman, CEO of Young Judaea Global

 

 

Written by Young Judaean Talia Bodner, spoken at the March for Israel in Washington DC on November 14, 2023

It’s been 38 days, thats 1 month plus a week
Since our lives turned upside down and the world turned their cheek
I wake up each morning wracked with worry, the world feels bleak
As we fall victim everyday to baseless hatred and constant critique

But we are not defenseless and we are not weak
We have an army that will make this a winning streak
We are modern day Maccabees, strong and unique
And we have each other and the power to speak
To speak up about justice and to fight for what’s right
To give voice to the victims swallowed up in the night

Like you – I am a Jew
And I am a proud one too!
there is so much that we have all been through
And now I am here standing in front of all you
So what are we here to do?
What brought you to this place on today of all days?
What is it that you all have to say?
We’re here because we are tired of being quiet.
We have a voice, and now it’s time that we try it.

You see
This is not only about our tiny home across the sea
And the soldiers who fight each day to keep Israel free
This is about all those who feel hurt, sad, and angry
We have lost too many innocent lives it’s hurting everybody
Both Palestinian and Israeli
We all deserve dignity

This is about Jews around the world, in every community
This is about those who make up the rest of our family tree
This is about my friends at Columbia and the Jewish Theological Seminary
This is about students on campuses where they don’t like what they see
This is about day schools, youth groups, gap years, camps, and our chosen family
This is about you and this is about me
This is about all of us who came from around the country
To cry out in the face of insanity

We are Jews proudly
And we will defend Israel loudly
Let us stand up against inhumanity
Let us fight for a land and home we will never have to flee
We are a nation who does not go down so easily
You and me, we stand in unity
We have agency
We write our own history
Let’s make our own destiny.

Thank you for your work, it means more than you know
Though the work that we do feels ever so slow
Steady we work towards a better tomorrow

Here we stand, proudly at the capitol of our nation
We bring the new generation
We are ready to lead
We stand here today to sow the seeds
For a more perfect future that we know this world needs
Today we raise our voices as loud as our deeds

Today we do not need to be quiet with heads bowed
Today we are allowed
We can raise our voices out loud
We stand in a crowd to express our Jewish pride
We say to the world, we will no longer hide
Let our voices ring out, echoing far and traveling wide
We will not be denied
As we stand alongside
Together our voices amplified
And we will be heard

We sing for Israel, our voices sweet like song birds
And we will be heard

Our love for our homeland transcends more than words
And we will be heard

Hear us now, hear our message word for word
Today we raise our voices loud to the world

And we will be heard
We will be heard

 

By Adina Frydman, CEO of Young Judaea Global

As we turn the page on summer and try to hold on to the final moments of sun,  we feel the shift from pre to post Labor Day (well, at least if you are in the Northeast). For those in the South or West, you are already deeply in the routine of school.

As I head into the office in 94-degree weather, although it still feels like summer, I know that the truth is, my summer is over. For YJ campers each year, the end of summer doesn’t just signify the start of school, it means the end of camp!

This summer, I had the pleasure of touring all seven camps and was reminded again of what is so unique and special about a Young Judaea camp. Let me tell you what I saw.

Unadulterated joy and laughter throughout the day. The playfulness of wearing pajamas all day, making string bracelets, having mud fights, bug juice, cheers and song, and of course the magic of a camp Shabbat. Not to mention the staff are sometimes sillier than the campers (to make it fun for the kids of course…)

I saw kids getting out of their comfort zone to try a new sport, meet a new friend, and challenge their existing perspectives by encountering different opinions.

At camp I witnessed incredible sportsmanship, balanced with healthy competition. While the joke is that we are all winners in Young Judaea, that is actually not true in color war, bikurim, and maccabiah. But most impressive is that the winning teams cheer on everyone else with as much enthusiasm as they cheer for their own win.

Lastly, I saw exemplary role modeling from our tzevet (camp staff). And while this applies to all staff, I am particularly talking about the young seasonal staff who would do anything to make sure that every chanich (camper) has the best experience possible: no camper left behind.

From the early morning wake up rituals to peulot laila tov (good night activities), they are the heroes that make every moment count. And it is only sweeter because they are part of a long chain of Young Judaeans passing on the traditions that their madrichim (counselors) gave to them.

These are just some of the highlights of what I saw at camp this summer. No wonder we are sad to let it go! Perhaps we can hold on to that camp feeling as we go back to our year-round lives.

As we wind up another fabulous season with over 3500 campers, I want to thank…

All the staff who gave their all this summer.

All the parents for trusting us with their kids.

All of YOU for supporting each of our camps and Young Judaea to make these magical summers a success!

See you in the summer of 2024!

Camp Registration is open already with early bird discounts – don’t wait!

Sincerely,

Adina