Coming home to community

I am the child of a Holocaust survivor who grew up as the only Jew in my grade. So my Jewish identity has always been complicated.  

Traveling in circles with few Jewish people, I developed an exceptional ability to translate Jewish beliefs and traditions into language that the rest of the world could understand.  

But I got tired of being the only Jew in the room. 

I was fatigued by the casual antisemitism of daily office conversation. I was exhausted from arguing every time I needed to take off work for a Jewish holiday.  And sweet G-d, I was sick of being told that--with my blue eyes, fair skin and light hair--I didn't look Jewish. 

So--whether I knew it or not--I wasn't just looking for a meaningful job when I came to work at JUF in 1996. I was looking for community. 

And that is what I found: An incredible Jewish community where I finally felt at home. 

My JUF coworkers were exceptionally warm, talented, funny, passionate, and hard-working.  

They were also exceptionally loud.  

I had never before been in business meetings where people were so excited that they talked over one another.  

Or where there was always food.  

Or where everyone in the room felt such a sense of urgency, because we faced incredibly important challenges and opportunities.  

Over the years, I had the pleasure of working with some extraordinary lay leaders and colleagues. I had the satisfaction of being part of an incredibly creative team. And I had the privilege of mentoring some amazing professionals, many of whom are now among my closest friends. 

While the people changed, the shared sense of purpose never waned. 

Together, we celebrated some astonishing moments in Jewish history. The Federation's Centennial. Israel at 50, 60, and 75. The Abraham Accords. 

We responded to disaster. We were there providing aid when Hurricane Katrina devastated New Orleans and an earthquake leveled Haiti. 

We launched fantastic new programs: TOV Volunteer Network and JUF Uptown Café, jBaby and PJ Library, the Jewish Women's Foundation and YLD Pride.   

We built a host of new community facilities and schools, along with endowments to support them.  

We held exciting fundraising events featuring presidents and prime ministers, actors and authors, columnists and comedians.  

Over the years, we also tackled some truly challenging issues, from the collapse of the economy in Argentina and war in Israel to the recession of 2008 and the COVID pandemic.  

Through it all, we were together. 

On September 11, we stood together wordlessly, gathered around the television in my boss's office watching the second of the twin towers collapse.

We were together in 2002 when an astonishing 25,000 people gathered at McCormick Place for Israel Solidarity Day during the Second Intifada. I can still feel the powerful roar of that crowd, which sent chills down my spine. 

We were together when Gilad Shalit stepped off the plane and when Udi Goldwasser and Eldad Regev came home in coffins. 

And we were together on October 7, 2023, when the unthinkable happened. 

In the agonizing months that followed, it was an indescribable privilege to have a job where I could actually do something for our greater Israeli family by raising emergency funds and awareness.  

I knew firsthand how impactful JUF-funded human services on the ground were, because over the years I have had opportunities to visit those programs and projects across the State of Israel-and also in Kyiv, Odessa, and right here in our Chicagoland community.  

I will treasure having been a part of that important work.  

I also will treasure having been a part of JUF as the organization evolved, with women assuming more leadership roles.  

And I will always treasure just being a part of the JUF community.