On a Saturday evening in Tel Aviv, I found myself dancing along the boardwalk. Nearby, a couple in their 80s danced to the music, seemingly without a care in the world. Families strolled along the waterfront. Friends gathered. Children played. It was ordinary. It was beautiful. And it was exactly what I needed.
In August, I spent two weeks in Israel reconnecting with family and friends, attending weddings, wandering through markets, and simply living. I went to recharge. When I returned to the U.S., I was reminded of something much bigger. Israel isn’t simply a place I visit. It’s home. And home, as we know, can be complicated.
There is still tremendous trauma. Conversations with friends and family revealed lingering wounds from October 7, concerns about the future, and disagreements about politics and leadership. Those realities are present, but they aren’t the entirety of Israeli life. Neither are the images we see on television.
I walked through Jaffa, stopping at Abulafia, an Arab-owned bakery that has served generations. I visited the National Library and marveled at the intersection of ancient history and modern scholarship. I celebrated weddings and watched families gather at the Western Wall. Everywhere, preparations for Rosh Hashanah were underway. Apples, honey, and holiday greetings weren’t tucked into a corner of a store. They were everywhere. For two weeks, I didn’t have to explain my Jewish identity, defend it, or wonder whether expressing it would make someone uncomfortable. I could simply be.
That experience brought me back to the work we do every day at Tidewater Jewish Foundation. We focus a great deal on building legacies, growing endowments, and securing the Jewish future. Those things matter. But they’re not the end goal. They’re the means to something much greater. We’re not simply preserving assets. We’re preserving opportunities for future generations to know who they are and where they belong.
Through programs such as the Simon Family Passport to Israel, we help young people experience that connection firsthand. Through endowments and legacy gifts, we help ensure those opportunities continue long after we’re gone. But legacy also requires something of us today. It requires showing up.
Visiting. Listening. Supporting communities and businesses. Asking difficult questions and experiencing Israel beyond the headlines. I want our children and grandchildren to inherit more than stories about Israel. I want them to have stories of their own. The Jewish future isn’t something we can simply fund and hope for. It’s something we must actively participate in building.
Naomi Limor Sedek is Tidewater Jewish Foundation’s president and CEO.