Jewish Tidewater in Israel | Jewish News

A journey of hope:reflections from my trip to Israel

Naomi Limor Sedek — Thu, 18 Sep 2025 16:44:28 +0000

This summer, I traveled to Israel for my niece’s wedding. It was a joyous occasion, full of laughter, dancing, and the kind of celebration that reminds us what it means to live fully and proudly as Jews. Surrounded by family, I felt the timeless bond that ties us to our people and our homeland.

But my trip was not only about joy. I had visited the site of the October 7 attacks on previous trips to Israel, but this time I went with my husband and our adult children. The experience was profoundly different. Standing together before the photographs of young lives cut short, we felt the weight of unimaginable loss in a new way. My children were deeply moved, realizing these were peers, young people who should have been building futures filled with promise. The grief was overwhelming. Yet, even in that place of mourning and remembrance, we found hope. The people of Israel, resilient and courageous, remind us that while tragedy leaves scars, it does not erase our spirit.

Over the past 24 months of war, we have witnessed a wide range of emotions and opinions from family, friends, and strangers alike. Israel is a complicated society. There are protests in the streets, solidarity with hostage families, and communities suffering deeply during wartime.

Conversations wrestle with what needs to be done, what has already been done, and what everyone wishes could be. There are no black-or-white answers, only the complexity of a reality where grief and hope live side by side. What unites us is that we are a people who grieve together, who share values rooted in Jewish tradition, and who remain committed to investing in the future of our families and our people.

As Jewish people, we carry the legacy of our ancestors within us. Our history is marked by hardship and exile but also illuminated by perseverance and triumph. We continue to build, to dream, and to live with meaning. That strength comes from community and from legacy, the knowledge that our story stretches back thousands of years and is still being written today.

Now, more than ever, it is important that our children and grandchildren experience Israel for themselves. Programs such as the Simon Family Passport to Israel make that possible, giving young people the chance to touch the land, meet the people, and carry those memories into their own Jewish journeys. I encourage families to apply and give the next generation the gift of connection that will last a lifetime.

As we enter this season of renewal, may we carry forward resilience and joy, and may we walk confidently into the future, rooted in our past, connected in the present, and filled with hope for what lies ahead.

Naomi Limor Sedek is president and CEO of Tidewater Jewish Foundation.

Itzik and Simon Sedek laying tefillin at the Nova memorial site.

Itzik, Tali, Naomi and Simon Sedek at the wedding.

Tidewater’s Saul Brodsky becomes a scribe in Israel

Stephanie Peck — Thu, 04 Sep 2025 18:57:57 +0000

Saul Brodsky credits his Jewish faith to his mother, Wendy Einhorn Brodsky. “My mom is genuine about her Jewish identity and practice,” he says when describing the trajectory of his Jewish journey beginning in Norfolk attending Temple Israel to studying at a yeshiva and becoming an observant Jew.

At 33 years old, Brodsky now works as a Sofer, or scribe, in Israel, handwriting Jewish text and prayers that are found in tefillin, mezuzahs, Torahs, and other religious objects.

The road to becoming a Sofer was not a direct route for Brodsky. During his junior year at University of Virginia, Brodsky travelled with a group to Israel for 17 days with orthodox Rabbi Benzion Klatzko and Olami, an organization aimed at revitalizing Jewish engagement among young adults. During this trip, Brodsky says, he was “exposed to themes and concepts of Judaism” that had seemed lofty to him but then became practical and real. The experience made him want to study in Israel. Still, he returned to school, graduated, and accepted a position with Credit Suisse in New York City. He felt strongly, however, the call to return to Israel and study at a yeshiva. So, he made the move for two years studying at Machon Yaakov. Upon returning to the United States, he studied for LSAT and applied to law schools. Even with multiple acceptances, Brodsky opted to return to Israel, met and married his wife, Adina, a clinical social worker, and ultimately completed six years of yeshiva education. Today, he continues his study with Kollel at The Wall.

For Brodsky, becoming a scribe offered flexibility to study Torah, work from home, and create his own schedule. Studying under a private tutor, Brodsky first learned the complicated laws of the profession and the technical skills of crafting the Hebrew letters. He completed three Megillat Esther, the Scroll of Esther for the holiday of Purim, and closed on his first sale this past January. In addition, he’s working on his first Torah, which he estimates will take approximately 10 months.

Brodsky explains that the ingredients used by a scribe occur in nature, and, therefore, are halachically valid by Jewish law. He completes a mezuzah on a piece of hide from an unborn calf, measuring about 5” square. The ink has been cooked to reach a certain consistency, and Brodsky works at a slanted desk with a humidifier system that provides vapor to keep the hide malleable. “There are a lot of nuances that a scribe needs to be aware of,” he says, including the potential for an inked letter to crack under the strain of being rolling into a mezuzah or Torah.

Every Hebrew letter has its own qualifications, and a document will be invalidated if a letter is drawn incorrectly. Corrections can be made in certain circumstances, often by a third-party magia’h, who is certified to “proofread” the document and who understands the complex laws in more detail.

“If you’re selling something that you will say a blessing on, it needs to be correct,” Brodsky says.

Separate laws apply to writing mezuzahs and tefillin, as well as to writing God’s name, says Brodsky. All 713 letters of the mezuzah, for example, must be written in order. In certain cases, if a correction needs to be made to one letter, the subsequent letters become invalid since the order has been upset. Because Megillat Esther for Purim does not include God’s name and does not need to be written “in order,” it is often the first text that a new scribe attempts.

Brodsky describes two camps of scribes, those who charge $100 per mezuzah scroll and others who can charge $250. The more expensive scroll looks nicer and is considered ‘a beautification of the mitzvah.’ However, there is a market for both religious objects. Often, he says, a buyer will rely on another’s expertise to know the true value of a scribe’s work.

Brodsky says he is pleased with his success so far and notes that perseverance is key. He observes many beginners who quit the profession after a mistake or two.

Adina Brodsky adds, “I’m proud of him.”

Saul and Adina Brodsky with their daughter, Tehila Malka.

Pride in resilience: My experience in Israel demonstrated the importance of the work of Jewish Federations

Hunter Thomas — Thu, 04 Sep 2025 18:35:21 +0000

This past June, I participated in the Jewish Federation of North America’s 2025 LGBTQ+ Pride Month mission to Israel, the first trip of its kind in nearly a decade. I joined nearly 100 LGBTQ+ Jewish leaders representing 26 Jewish Federations from across North America. It was a tense time to go, but it was more impactful than nearly anything I have ever done in my life.

Navigating the world as a Jewish gay individual means carrying two complex identities, each with its own set of joys and hardships. Many of my fellow participants shared stories of how their support for Israel, or simply their connection to Jewish heritage, had been weaponized, resulting in ostracization within their local LGBTQ+ circles. The simplistic narrative that advocacy for a Jewish state and for Palestinian human rights are mutually exclusive misses the nuance so necessary for understanding. For many, the mission to Israel was an act of reclaiming space at this intersection.

In the taxi from the airport to my hotel in Tel Aviv, I realized that while I visited Israel in 2023, before October 7, the country felt both familiar and wholly different. This time, yellow ribbons adorned flagpoles and images of hostages appeared on buildings, bus stops, light poles, and storefronts, yet daily life continued.

On a trip to the south to visit the areas most impacted by the attacks on October 7, our guide taught us the Hebrew word for resilience, chosen. This word ended up being one of the major themes of the trip.

When I met former Tidewater ShinShin Alma Ben Chorin for coffee, she shared her post-October 7 experience in the IDF working with Lone Soldiers, brave individuals who moved to Israel to join the IDF with no family connections in the country. She spoke of their bravery and the spike in volunteers making aliyah following the attacks.

At Kibbutz Nir Oz, a mile-and-a-half from the Gaza border, residents have always lived under the threat of missiles. While the completion of Israel’s Iron Dome decreased the threat, residents still have less time to get to bomb shelters than it takes to tie a shoe. Many of these residents, despite this constant threat and serving as an example of Israeli resilience, strived for peace. They fought to end discrimination and drove sick Gazan children to Israeli hospitals for cancer treatments. On October 7, 2023, 380 Nir Oz residents were home. More than 40 were killed, and 76 were forcefully dragged into captivity in Gaza.

We visited Oded and Yocheved Lifshitz’s cactus garden, where I cried as we learned about their peace activism. Yochaved was taken hostage without her husband and feared he was dead. They were reunited briefly in Gaza before Yochaved was released, later hearing that Oded was killed in captivity a year later.

“Don’t cry, it’s going to be okay,” the Nir Oz survivor and guide told me. “The community is still striving for peace, and it will come.”

Later, I met Oded and Yocheved’s grandson at the Hostages and Missing Families Forum, as well as Gili Roman, whose sister Yarden was taken hostage. Roman shared the painful experience of being ostracized from an international gay sports group for publicly advocating for his sister’s release.

Following Nir Oz, we visited the site of the Nova music festival, where 364 people were killed, and 40 kidnapped to Gaza. Given the trip’s theme, I could not help but find a connection to the 2016 Pulse Nightclub massacre in Orlando. Young people dancing, taken from their loved ones in acts of radical terror. But I was reminded of chosen as I walked through the streets of Tel Aviv later that night, as people danced and hugged and laughed outside of bars and restaurants.

The next morning, we received a briefing from JFNA staff. Of the $1.2 billion raised annually by 146 Jewish federations across the US and Canada, 20-25% supports Israel and overseas needs. Since Oct. 7, JFNA has coordinated $225 million in emergency aid on top of what local federations raised. These funds helped launch trauma centers, distribute care packages, support mental health, aid small businesses, and provide resources for vulnerable groups, including LGBTQ+ Israelis.

Various Israeli organizations provide those resources. Ogen LGBTQ+ Life Center is transforming queer healthcare by connecting LGBTQ+ religious Jews and Muslims to affirming doctors through an innovative app, expanding access to medication, building supportive community, and more. “There are no politics in health,” their CEO said.

We heard from staff at the Agudah, a historic hub for Israel’s queer community, which was controversially ousted last year by an international gay rights group. Chavruta works with queer religious Jews, supporting gay men in heterosexual marriages and fighting conversion therapy, while Bat Kol provides support for religious lesbians. The Jerusalem Open House continues to advocate for LGBTQ+ rights in one of the world’s holiest cities.

Israel has made meaningful progress in LGBTQ+ rights, much of it through Supreme Court rulings, but these gains remain fragile amid ongoing judicial reform debates. While the state recognizes gay marriages that take place outside of Israel, there is not an option for civil marriage in Israel. LGBTQ+ youth face widespread discrimination: 92% report exposure to slurs, and one in three experiences harassment.

Since 2024, there have been 22 reported violent incidents linked to a popular queer dating app. These challenges have only intensified since October 7, raising urgent questions around military service for queer families, the recognition of same-sex partnerships in cases of loss, and a troubling 50% spike in substance abuse within the LGBTQ+ community.

We were reminded, though, that so many Israelis support LGBTQ+ rights and the queer community. At a meeting with President Isaac Herzog and First Lady Michal Herzog, who had recently made history by attending Jerusalem’s Pride parade, President Herzog said, “Acceptance and equality are central to the DNA of Israeli society.”

At dinner one night, a Houthi missile was intercepted over Tel Aviv. Taking cover in a bomb shelter, the Israelis among us chatted as if nothing was wrong. I was reminded again of chosen. But that was forgotten by our last day. That evening, as the mission ended, we danced: for those taken at Nova; for those who danced at Pulse; for those who perished in the Holocaust; for queer people lost to violence and bigotry; for all who can’t dance anymore.

Only about a dozen of us left Israel that night. Most of the nearly 100 mission participants planned to attend Tel Aviv Pride the following day. My flight departed a little after 1 am local time. By 3 am, sirens were blaring across Israel, and my fellow mission participants were scrambling to shelters as I flew over the Atlantic on one of the last planes out of Ben Gurion International Airport, following Israel’s attacks on Iran. It was only because I was returning home to celebrate my adult b’nei mitzvah at Ohef Sholom Temple that I left when I did.

JFNA immediately acted, helping the participants and keeping everyone together and accounted for. They arranged travel through Jordan, and then Egypt, to get everyone home. For some mission members whose passports and outward gender identity were at odds, they coordinated with Birthright, securing passage through Cyprus.

We went to Israel to celebrate pride in a community that understood, loved, and accepted us as Jewish Zionists. We left with a keen understanding of the chosen, the resilience of the Israeli people. The work that Jewish Federations do to support the Jewish homeland is essential in building that resilience.

Hunter Thomas is director of Arts + Ideas at United Jewish Federation of Tidewater. He can be reached at 757-965-6137 or HThomas@UJFT.org. To contribute to UJFT’s annual campaign, visit www.JewishVA.org/Campaign. For more information on the campaign, or how to can get involved, contact Amy Zelenka, chief development officer, at AZelenka@UJFT.org or 757-965-6139.

Hunter Thomas and Alma Ben Chorin.

Mission members with President and First Lady Herzog.

Israel trip reconnects us with Shinshinim, strengthens purpose for Nadiv

Danny Rubin — Thu, 12 Jun 2025 17:50:34 +0000

In late May, my wife, Shikma, our two boys, and I visited Israel with the primary goal to see Shikma’s family: her grandma, sister, nieces, aunt, uncle, and cousins.

We spent several days in apartments in Ra’anana and Hod HaSharon eating great meals and catching up on lost time. We also participated in a Shavuot celebration at the home of Shikma’s cousin in Be’er Tuvia, a moshav (cooperative agricultural community) about 45 minutes south of Tel Aviv.

Shavuot on a moshav is a big deal with a celebration involving synchronized tractor “dances,” wheelbarrow races, the presentation of new babies born in the past year, and singing and dancing until the sun sets.

Alongside the family reunion, we had a secondary mission for the visit to Israel: reunite with the Shinshinim who lived in our Jewish community. Shinshinim are young Israeli high school graduates who serve as emissaries in Jewish communities around the world for a year, deferring their mandatory military service.

Many will remember Aya Sever, Naomi Friedland, and Maya Ostrov. Aya was one of our community’s first Shinshin in 2023. Naomi and Maya followed the next year. Shikma, our boys, and I felt such joy reconnecting with all three young women who now serve in various capacities in the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF).

We even met the parents of a current Shinshin in Tidewater, Danielle Hartman. Karen and Yaniv Hartman joined us for an impromptu birthday party for our son, Niv, who turned 10 while we were in Israel.

On one trip, we spent time with family as well as friends who feel like family. What could be better?

Well, there is something more.

For two of our nine days in Israel, we explored the country with a terrific young tour guide, Yishai Damelin. One of our stops was The Nadiv Farm in the Zichron Yaacov region of the country. As many know, “Nadiv” is the name of the young professional men’s fundraising division of United Jewish Federation of Tidewater.

I was intrigued. Why name a farm “Nadiv,” which means “generous” in Hebrew?

Yishai explained that in the 1880s, an anonymous philanthropist (known as “HaNadiv” or “The Great Benefactor”) began to fund the earliest agricultural and infrastructure projects in what would later become the State of Israel.

The man was later revealed to be Baron Edmond de Rothschild, the renowned French banker.

Rothschild supported projects such as the start of the wine industry in Israel. He also built factories, drained swamps to combat malaria, and established clinics to provide medical care.

In Zichron Yaacov, along the coast between Tel Aviv and Haifa, the word Nadiv is found in several places. We took a Jeep ride through vineyards at The Nadiv Farm and ate lunch in Zichron at a restaurant called The Nadiv. There is also a famous garden in Israel called Ramat HaNadiv where Edmond and his wife are buried.

Even more, there is a philanthropic organization in Israel today called Yad HaNadiv, rooted in Rothschild’s mission, that supports efforts in education, the environment, and early childhood. (yadhanadiv.org.il)

When I chose “Nadiv” as our group’s name in 2016, I didn’t know about the legacy of Baron Edmond de Rothschild. I only learned the information during our recent trip to Israel. But now, the connection only strengthens our group’s purpose since “HaNadiv” was crucial to the founding of Israel. I am proud that Nadiv here in Tidewater continues that legacy.

Every trip to Israel is special in its own way. This one is no exception.

Shai Rubin (bottom right) participates in a wheelbarrow race as part of a Shavuot celebration on a moshav in Be’er Tuvia. Shikma Rubin’s uncle, Dror Barlev, pushes the wheelbarrow while Shai’s cousin, Tomer Vine, is along for the ride.

Danny Rubin and his boys, Niv and Shai, dine at The Nadiv restaurant in Zichron Yaacov. The Zichron region is influenced by the philanthropic efforts in the late 19th century of Baron Edmond de Rothschild, also known as “HaNadiv” or “The Great Benefactor.”

Naomi Friedland, a former Shinshinim participant in Tidewater, with Niv and Shai Rubin.

Dylan Cohen (Danny Rubin’s first cousin and a freshman at VCU, who was in Israel at the same time on his Birthright trip), Aya Sever (former Jewish Tidewater Shinshin), with Niv, Shikma, Shai, and Danny Rubin.

This year… Tidewater. Next year… Jerusalem.

Amy Zelenka — Thu, 20 Mar 2025 21:30:37 +0000

Whenever a mission participant returns from Israel, their first and often fondest memories are of their tour guide. And for the past 10 plus years, Tidewater’s exclusive Israel tour guide has been the amazing Zalman Spivak, a unique combination of many fine skills and qualities. An outstanding educator and scholar, Spivak also brings a love for the land and the People of Israel that is absolutely contagious. His energy and enthusiasm make it impossible not to engage!

After October 7, Spivak was recalled to his reserve unit, where he served for the better part of a year. Because so many of us know and love him, his experiences post-October 7 have become a lens through which we have processed the events unfolding in Israel. We worried for his safety as well as that of his young children and parents. We thought about him constantly and hoped he was doing okay. We wondered how he was able to make a living with tourism (just beginning to come back to Israel after COVID) once again, completely shut down. And we sat in frustration, because all we could really do was send him the occasional Whatssap or Facebook message telling him he was in our thoughts.
It’s hard to believe that in March of 2023, a group of us were touring and celebrating Purim with him in Israel. What a difference seven months makes.

In September of 2024, fresh from reserve duty, Spivak had the opportunity standing-room-only crowd at the home of Ashley and Greg Zittrain, we listened to him talk about what the last year had been like for him and for Israelis in general; how the political situation in Israel was playing out in a post-October 7 nation; and how we can help support Israel.

Fast forward to February 2025. Spivak again found himself in the US, creating a travel itinerary which put him in his favorite communities. And once again, we were thrilled to welcome him. This time, he brought a multi-media, Tu B’Shevat Seder program he created especially for our Young Leadership Division, which brilliantly illustrated the relationship between the people, the land, and the modern politics of Israel.

Quoting the early Zionist hero, Joseph Trumpledor, Spivak built his program with the following quote in mind: “Wherever the Jewish plow plows its last furrow, that is where the border will run.” Every child in Israel knows this quote, and it speaks not only to the land and the people, but also to the political decisions made on the borders of Israel, including the Gaza envelop and the Golan Heights, where farms are plentiful, and food is produced to feed the nation.

Spivak created a Tu B’Shevat Haggadah which included the order of the seder (including four cups of wine and the seven species of Israel), as well as modern quotes from contemporary thinkers, scholars, and poets and videos of songs sung by a nation at war, which speak directly to the value of the land and the willingness of Israelis to fight for it.

About 25 members of UJFT’s Young Adult Division participated in the seder with the opportunity to learn from Spivak – as so many of us have done on Israel Missions. The dinner gave a nod to Tu B’Shevat – the Jewish “New Year for Trees,” with olives and dates playing a starring role, as well as vegetable soup!

Moving through the seder, we drank our four cups, starting with white wine – representing the pure white, stillness, and dormancy of winter and the snowcapped Mount Hermon. Next, we drank pale pink – (white with a drop of red wine), representing the earth’s awakening in early spring; the gradual and orderly turning of the seasons, which are the background against which we lead our lives. Moving further through the seder, we drank our third cup, which was a darker pink – symbolizing the blossoming of late spring, as it overtakes the dormancy of winter with its rush of new colors in the landscape. The fourth cup – near the end of the seder was almost totally red (with only a drop of white), symbolizing the full arrival of spring and the vibrant life of a new season. Through this progression, we began to understand the cycle of agriculture in various parts of Israel, how it fits with other holidays and celebrations, and its importance to the people.

It’s hard to believe two years have passed since our community was last in Israel on a Federation mission. Being with Spivak was a reminder of how meaningful it is for each of us to connect with the land and the people.

I hope that the coming year will bring a full return of the hostages and “peace enough” that we can once again travel together. And while it may not be traditional to recite at the close of a Tu B’Shevat seder… I will add: “L’Shanah Haba’ah B’Yerushalayim.” Next year, may we find ourselves and our community together (on a mission with Zalman!) in Jerusalem

Trip highlights JDC’s work post October 7

Annie Sandler — Thu, 20 Mar 2025 21:19:05 +0000

My most recent visit to Israel started with Havdalah services in Hostage Square. The weight of October 7 – the loss, the trauma, the sadness – hangs in the air and seeps into your pores. The realization of the challenges Israelis deal with all day, every day, is profound. You also realize that the entire country suffers from lasting trauma.

I was in Israel as part of the Myers-JDC-Brookdale Institute’s (MJB) 50th anniversary celebration and mission. The trip was designed to feature MJB’s work in applied social research in partnership with JDC in Israel. Both the south and north of Israel have suffered greatly since the beginning of the war. The country’s population of vulnerable people has grown dramatically since October 7 as people lost loved ones, jobs, homes, and communities. JDC has aided more than 550,000 of the hardest-hit Israelis since the war began and many more people still need our help.

An early childhood day care center in Sderot was our first stop and illustrated the dire needs we saw. Sixteen months of war has taken a toll on children and youth, whether they were evacuated to hotels for displaced families or remained on the frontlines.

Dr. Yair Tzadka, MJB’s chief innovation officer, is leading research on Trauma-Informed Care – training kindergarten teachers and early childhood professionals to better support children in crisis. We dropped into a classroom with two- and three-year-olds. Reading a book to the children, the teacher, Osher, was animated, funny, and loving in her delivery. Later, we came together as a group from a few different classrooms to ask the teachers and administrators questions. Osher was shy, but with prompting spoke about her personal challenges. As she mentioned her own children serving in the IDF, her husband being away, sirens and rockets non-stop, and many of her students being evacuated, her worry was palpable. Osher broke down at the end and had to be comforted, demonstrating the important lesson that caregivers require support to endure both the personal and professional toll that such a crisis can take.

We then had lunch with some of Israel’s older adults from the Judith Morton Guidance Centers, JDC’s network of rehab centers for Israel’s elderly. JDC is the only organization dedicated to ensuring elderly Israelis are NOT left alone and forgotten, especially during wartime when their needs only increased and there were not enough services or professionals to meet them. In response, JDC’s ESHEL partnership, which promotes independent living and wellness for Israel’s seniors, instituted an emergency program that moves a mid-age (50’s to 60’s) couple into a community for one year to aid local elderly. The couple is there for moral support, monitoring of seniors who may be at severe risks, and around the clock stability. One hundred people serve in five communities in the south. The couple we met with was based in Kfar Azza and were excited to be helping community members.

Our next stop was Memorial and Heroes Park in Sderot where the former police station had stood. We paid our respects to residents and defenders who fell in the war. Adir Shai, a 34-year-old police officer and mother of two, spoke about returning to the station after receiving numerous emergency alerts on October 7. Adir left her children and drove to the station to be confronted by an intense gun battle with Hamas terrorists who had infiltrated the police station. A few of her colleagues and friends lay dead or injured. Adir said she had never seen so many sophisticated weapons while she stood armed with her service revolver. The gun fight continued, more citizens were lost, leaving the officers with only one choice. They called in air support which bombed the police station bringing it down on top of the terrorists.

The community is gradually attempting to recover, although the mental health crisis is part of daily life—solving this challenge is one of JDC’s top priorities with many programs already at work to reduce trauma and stress among tens of thousands of Israelis. MJB’s research is being conducted in this community to uncover key predictors of mental health symptoms to ensure first responders and others get the care they need.

We then headed to Israel’s northern region, which is comprised of smaller municipalities that are spread out and very difficult to reach. Shlomi, for example, lies right on the border of Lebanon. As we stood looking at the border – which was only a few hundred yards away – the guard described how Hezbollah snipers had been able to pick off people in their homes. Approximately 60,000 people were forced from their homes, critical infrastructure was destroyed, and social services were stretched to the breaking point. JDC stepped in immediately to ensure those who stayed behind, including the most vulnerable, had the basic supplies, emergency services, and medical equipment they needed. Residents of Shlomi were to return this month to their homes and schools. Safeguarding residents during their homecoming, rehabilitation, and development are top priorities for JDC’s ELKA partnership, which maximizes the ability of public systems to provide social services to residents efficiently and effectively.

The Emergency Medical Unit we saw in the Druze town of Hurfeish was remarkable. JDC drew from its disaster relief experience to ensure medical preparedness and training of first responders and worked to create a talented, medically equipped cohort of residents who have become a crucial resource in emergency care. It was hard to imagine that this community had no ambulances before October 7 and how they learned to transport injured people in their personal cars without further injuring them. The pride these volunteers exhibit in their ability to contribute and care for their fellow neighbors was deeply touching.

Nahariya was the next stop on the northern border with Lebanon. Not evacuated, Nahariya’s residents struggled with the daily trauma of navigating the significant damage to their town’s infrastructure and never-ending tension. Nahariya is one of the frontline cities JDC is working tirelessly to rehabilitate. Before October 7, the community struggled with poverty, strained systems, and disaffected youth. JDC then deployed its Mashiv Haruach (“Reviving the Spirit”) initiative in the city, focusing on building community resilience, healing, and sustainable recovery. This work will help as JDC engages in its wider efforts to help rebuild Northern Israel, making sure that infrastructure such as homes, schools, roads, and sewage systems, as well as health, welfare, and education services are up and running and meeting a new reality.

The mayor of Nahariya spoke to us at length about the development of local resilience programs. He also strongly underscored that he never left the community during all the shelling. We then engaged with community members who have been trained to identify and help those who may be in crisis. Anna Nemsic spoke about her son, Yuli, who is on the autism spectrum as low functioning. Nemsic struggled with getting Yuli to a shelter during numerous rocket attacks, as running and hiding in a small room was too traumatizing for him. After learning that many mothers were struggling with similar issues, Nemsic started support groups for the moms. As the need grew, she trained other mothers to be facilitators and on-call support heroines.

Our last day on the mission showcased the combined work of JDC and MJB in supporting Israel’s efforts to integrate the Haredi or ultra-Orthodox Jewish population into the labor market. JDC’s Tevet partnership, which creates programs to secure employment for Israelis from all walks of life, has a trusted relationship with the Haredi community. When the war created a labor shortage in the construction industry, JDC created a program that provides entry-level courses in construction careers for Haredi men, who often experience high rates of unemployment. This means they can begin earning wages after completion of a 20-hour course and continue learning through on-the-job training. We showed up in our hard hats in an alley behind a school to watch trainees building foundation molds with structural wall components. It was really something to meet these young men and hear about their thoughts and dreams as they learned to build a future for their families.

Before heading off to the 50th anniversary dinner celebration of MJB, we made a visit to President Herzog and his wife, Michal, at their residence. President Herzog has known the excellent work of MJB and JDC for many years. He has also worked closely with Dr. Michal Grinstein-Weiss, the new director of MJB, at Washington University in St. Louis, where she previously worked.

One of the highlights from that meeting was when I delivered a thank you gift to President Herzog. Was it a tzedakah box? A photo from the JDC Archives? No, it was something from home, with a special meaning. It was a Proclamation from the City Council of Virginia Beach and Mayor Bobby Dyer stating that the City of Virginia Beach stands in solidarity with the State of Israel, AND the key to the City of Virginia Beach.The President was very touched. We can thank Virginia Beach City Councilman Joash Schulman and United Jewish Federation of Tidewater for making that happen.

The bonds we share with our extended family in Israel are strong. As we work to heal and rebuild a country beset by war and uncertainty, we strengthen those ties every day, ensuring Israelis have a strong, bright future ahead of them.

Annie Sandler is president of JDC.

From despair to hope:an emotional encounter with Israel

Sierra Lautman — Thu, 06 Feb 2025 20:32:42 +0000

The dichotomy I recently experienced during my first trip to Israel is a testament to the emotional complexities of the country. Organized by the iCenter in partnership with the JCCA, this journey brought 24 JCC professionals together for a Mifgash (Encounter) that Matters. Over three days, we were immersed in stories of resilience and tragedy, oscillating between overwhelming despair and uncontainable pride. By the end, I realized the profound truth in what an Israeli JCC professional told me: “Don’t fight it, feel it. What you’re feeling is Israel.”

Our first day began at the Nova site, which had little significance prior to October 7, but is now scarred by the events of that morning. On the bus, each of us was given a placard with the story of a Nova victim. Mine bore the name of Shahar Gindi, a 25-year-old justice advocate who loved to travel. She and her partner, Almog, embodied kindness, even amidst tragedy. At her memorial, I lit a candle, mourning not just a collective loss but an individual—a vibrant life cut short. It was an emotionally heavy start to the day, but only the beginning.

From the Nova site, we traveled to Moshav Tkuma where we met Dganit Bar Hai. On October 7, the community, armed only with the training of our biblical ancestors and determination, created an illusion of strength by banging pots and honking horns, deterring attackers. Dganit now helps people heal through agriculture. Survivors and soldiers work the land, their physical labor grounding them in a homeland that continues to bear their grief and hopes. Watching the smoke from Gaza just 5 kilometers away, I felt the tension between devastation and the human capacity to rebuild.

This tension followed us to Sderot, where educators shared their efforts to support displaced youth. They spoke about how teens who had been traumatized into silence were given responsibilities to help them find meaning and purpose, including delivering meals to older adults, reading to younger children, and performing other small but meaningful tasks. Witnessing their transformation during displacement reinforced the community’s resilience and determination to heal. Educators took lessons from their time as evacuees to change the education model in most schools in Sderot once they returned.

We then met Youssef Alziadna, a Bedouin minibus driver who saved 30 lives during the Nova Festival tragedy. His account of risking everything to rescue young Israeli Jews after a client called him saying, “Youssef, save us,” was both harrowing and inspiring. “I am a Bedouin,” he said, “I’m an Arab, I’m an Israeli, and I am proud to call Israel my home.”

We met Maayan, the granddaughter of released hostage Yocheved Lifshitz and a member of the Hostages and Missing Families Forum, on the second day. Her recounting of the days leading up to her grandparents’ capture and the excruciating wait for Yocheved’s release left us all vis-cerally feeling the cruelty of uncertainty. Later, we walked with Maayan through Hostage Square. The juxtaposition of bustling progress against the displays of unresolved trauma and mourning was impossible to ignore.

In Jerusalem, we met Adar Sharif, a farmer from Gesher Haziv who evacuated his wife and children but stayed on his land despite ongoing threats to protect his crops. His story of resilience and the reality of diving under his truck to avoid rocket fire was heart-wrenching and inspiring. He remained dedicated to preserving his land and livelihood and protecting his 20 foreign workers for 14 months as Hezbollah rained rockets down on his fields.

After our conversation with Sharif, we drove the short distance to Beit Avi Chai, where we met Israeli musician Shai Tsabari. We were treated to an experience that transcended a concert as Tsabari’s songs were interspersed with discussion about how he has spent the past 14 months traveling around Israel to sing at shivas of those who have died in the war.

“Give me your hand my brother
It’s sunset time
A delightful moment, no unnecessary words
In my dreams, your figure appears
A moment of peace
Spreads on my face”
-Translation from Shai Tsabari’s song, M’alei D’mamah (Silence Above Me)

The following day, we met with staff and fellows from the Inter-Agency Task Force to discuss the challenges and aspirations of young Israeli Arabs. During a breakout session, I spoke with Fadi, a man in his late 20s from Tel Aviv who lost eight family members who lived in Gaza. Fadi shared the fears he’s faced since October 7. He says he now avoids speaking Arabic in public, ignoring phone calls until he’s home. He spoke with candor about navigating his dual identity as an Arab and an Israeli and the guilt he has carried since the war’s start. When visiting a Jewish friend’s shiva for her husband, killed in combat, he worried she might reject his presence or blame him for the conflict. Even when she welcomed him, he couldn’t shake the displaced guilt for atrocities he never committed. Fadi’s story highlighted the unique emotional dichotomy faced by many Israeli Arabs today, mourning losses on both sides while feeling caught in between.

I stayed with my cousin David and his family in Tel Aviv for a few days before the program began. I watched the sunset over the Mediterranean with my family, ate Golda ice cream with David, met Maya and Naomi (Tidewater’s ShinShiniot from last year) to shop in the Shuk, and ate lunch on the beach. Teddy, my six-year-old cousin, corrected my accent, and three-year-old Emanuelle sang songs she learned in Gan. The contrast to the joy and happiness we experienced every day in Israel, to the sirens that woke us at 2:30 in the morning before a rocket hit Teddy’s friend’s school in Ramat Gan, was sobering.

After the program ended, I returned to David’s house for dinner before my flight home. As I helped put my little cousins to bed in their safe room, I struggled to process a whirlwind of emotions. The devastation of loss, my pride in Israel’s resilience, and the recognition of my privilege as a Jew in the diaspora during this war weighed heavily on me. Weeks later, the dissonance remains.
This trip has forever altered my connection to Israel. I don’t just know her; I feel her. The dichotomy of despair, hope, grief, and pride mirrors the country’s essence. I can’t wait to return.

Sierra Lautman, senior director of Jewish Innovation for United Jewish Federation of Tidewater, may be reached at SLautman@UJFT.org.

Sierra Lautman, Maya Ostroff, and Naomi Friedland.

Sierra Lautman picks lemons at Moshav Tkuma.

Healing with tattoos and empathy

Stephanie Peck — Thu, 08 Aug 2024 19:37:50 +0000

The journey to healing can take many roads. Two of those paths – therapy and art – intersected earlier this summer in Israel. Leyla Sandler participated in the process.

A licensed, independent clinical social worker in Virginia and Washington D.C., Sandler has worked in child abuse, specifically in forensic services.

Now, while owning and operating a mental and behavioral health company, Sandler is completing her doctorate in social work. Through a class at the University of Southern California, in pursuit of new certificate program, she studied visual social work. “I’m drawn to personal stories, documentaries, and visual images. I took this class to determine what are other areas of impact,” she says. “The depictions are raw, vulnerable, and real – a felt experience, one that can bring the research literature to life – one that others can connect to that transcends race, sex, age, etc.”

While seeking experiences and opportunities related to the senses, Sandler became connected with Healing Ink, a nonprofit that provides tattoos for survivors of mass violence. According to its website, “Healing Ink, Israel covers the scars of terror survivors and IDF soldiers injured in combat.”

Healing Ink extends beyond Israel, however. In December 2019, Healing Ink spent time in Virginia Beach offering tattoos to survivors of the mass shooting that had taken place at the Virginia Beach Municipal Center that May. Twenty-nine survivors, family, and first responders participated in the event, which was part of UJFT’s Jewish Community Relations Council’s Israel Today.

Tattoos, says Sandler, are more than body art; they have an ability to transform experiences. They offer healing, empowerment, and personal change in meaningful ways. “Tattoos can serve as memorials for loved ones or provide closure after traumatic events, helping people find meaning and heal over time. Numerous academic studies highlight the positive impact tattoos can have on individuals’ well-being journeys.”

Well-known American tattoo artist, Britton McFetridge, joins Healing Ink’s effort in Israel.

Two women receive tattoos.

A woman with family still hostage in Gaza receives a dove tattoo.

Tattoos are a powerful, yet often underutilized form of healing, she notes. “The healing process through tattoos is personal and varies from person to person. Tattoos can transform emotional trauma into physical expression, commemorate significant events, invite dialogue, enhance beauty, or cover scars to help erase painful memories. While we can’t change past events, we can control our response to them.”

In July, Sandler spent a week in Israel with the group. “I wanted to see the process and help make it more trauma-informed. The tattoo itself only accounts for part of the process.”

Healing Ink embodies a comprehensive trauma-informed ethos. This term represents several key components essential for trauma-informed practice, reflecting a holistic approach to understanding and supporting those affected by trauma. “To include those they serve, of course, but also the tattoo artists, who must also be safeguarded from traumatization,” says Sandler. All involved, she says, must be mindful of the humanness of humanity, recognizing that the experience of trauma is unique to everyone, its impact, and each person’s resulting experience.

Chosen from an application process that includes sharing personal stories, 129 people received tattoos during this session in Israel. They collaborated over three days with RSR Group, part of an international group of tattoo artists who donated their time, hearts, and talents to design and administer the tattoo.
Drawing on her expertise, Sandler offered insight into leveraging an intentional, ethical, dynamic, and informed approach to healing, given the weight of the collective trauma.

“I assisted in ensuring that any service is centered around the rights, well-being, experiences, journeys, and needs of individuals who have suffered harm,” says Sandler. “Services should actively engage the tenets of trauma-informed care and go further to include healing-centered engagement. I provided some input on best practices to enhance the process around receipt of the tattoo, not obtaining the tattoo, such as considerations of the space, clarity of instructions, warm handoffs, and formulating questions when obtaining the necessary information.”

Sandler says that people, especially those who have experienced trauma, need to be met where they are. What they need and what they want is the most important.

Sandler did not ask these victims of trauma to revisit their stories. Instead, she asked about the symbol of the tattoo and what it represents to them. “Tattooing, storytelling, and creative modalities are great if someone is not prepared to discuss their trauma yet. It’s the start of the process that’s psychologically safe and relevant to the healing process.”

Choosing a tattoo design, Sandler says, allows those who have experienced trauma to regain their voice. “You can cover a scar and make it something beautiful – you can have choice over what it looks like.” The choice in where a tattoo is placed factors in one’s pain tolerance.

A trauma-informed tattoo artist is someone who ensures a respectful and supportive experience for clients by asking for permission before any physical contact, acknowledging when a client needs to pause or stop the process, and being attentive to the emotional aspects of getting body art. This approach signifies a personal and societal evolution towards greater empathy and understanding.

Among those receiving the tattoos, Sandler met parents who lost children at the Nova Music Festival, survivors of an attacked kibbutz, and service members who were injured. “Everyone was touched in a very significant way by October 7,” she says.

The tattoo scene is a culture unto itself; it has an underlying, unifying factor, Sandler explains. She recognized the communal feel of healing, surviving, and hope.

Sandler was surprised when people thanked her for listening and for coming. “They’re the ones living on the border and fighting for peace. The level of empathy, considering their circumstances, was still so great. They just want peace.”

Sandler’s message is simple: whether you have a specialized skillset or not, take action – even if that action is simply showing up, listening, or holding a hand – it is one thing to care, it is another to participate in caring. If you have a skillset to assist with those who have undergone traumatic circumstances, being present and showing that you care is imperative. “Collectively, these actions will lead towards the rebuilding of the society with intergenerational trauma,” she says. “Any little bit makes a difference. As part of the wider diaspora, it is beneficial, or dare I say, an imperative.”

David Leon’s visit to Israel conjures up memories from 1974

Stephanie Peck — Mon, 17 Jun 2024 16:20:47 +0000

David Leon, president of United Jewish Federation of Tidewater, first travelled to Israel 50 years ago on the first commercial flight from the United States after the Yom Kippur War. This past March, he was on United Airline’s first flight to Israel following the October 7 terrorist attack. Five months after the attacks, United was the only airline in addition to El Al, to resume flights to Israel.

“The similarities are eerie but also much different,” Leon says. “Unfortunately, my United flight stopped in Munich to get a new crew, as the current crew refused to spend the night in Israel.”

Visiting family in Israel, Leon began his journey with dinner in Tel Aviv. “Everyone has been touched by the war,” he says. “My cousin’s son, who was called up to the reserves, lost a very close friend in a terrorist attack in Jerusalem.”

Picking clementines.

On the second day of his five-day trip, Leon visited the site of the Sderot police station that was overrun and destroyed by Hamas. He met and thanked Corporal Mali Shoshana, who on October 7, defended the police station by herself on a rooftop and acted as if dead for seven hours.

From the site of the Supernova music festival massacre, Leon could hear Israeli mortar shells in the near distance. From Kibbutz Yad Mordechai, he could see Israeli camera cranes on the Gaza border and Gazan buildings in the distance (there were far fewer buildings than he remembered from a previous trip).

Picking clementines on the third day of his trip with his Israeli cousin and her friends, Leon noted that many of those living at Kibbutz Be’eri had not yet returned. Most every farm in Israel needed help harvesting and planting.

A kibbutznik offered to show them the devastation from the attacks. About 10 % of the kibbutz members were killed or kidnapped, and only a few who could leave had returned. The images were incredibly hard to see, but Leon says he knew the importance of being a witness to the aftermath of the massacre.

He later visited an exhibit at the National Library featuring photos of each hostage with their favorite book, and then Hostage Square, where families sat, talked, and prayed among the many art displays.

Exhibit at the National Library.

John Strelitz, a past UJFT president, was also in Israel in March, and Leon visited with him and his family. Leon recalls how, 50 years ago, Leonard Strelitz was the UJFT president, and Buddy Strelitz and Tommy Hofheimer helped lead the community’s last major emergency campaign, that one for the Yom Kippur War.

Reflecting on the previous generation of Tidewater leadership, Leon says, “Their shoes are much too big to fill, but I feel honored to follow all those before me.”

Israeli American hostage has Virginia roots

Stephanie Peck — Thu, 09 May 2024 19:43:15 +0000

Hersh Goldberg-Polin, a 23-year-old Israeli American hostage held in Gaza, spent part of his childhood in Richmond, Va. before his family made aliyah to Israel in 2008. His Virginia roots go even further back, to Portsmouth, where Hersh’s grandparents and young family lived until 1969, before returning to their hometown of Chicago where Jonathan, Hersh’s father, was born.

“Our family has fond memories of our years in Portsmouth. My father used to say, ‘Virginia is my favorite state!’” says Abby Polin, Hersh’s aunt and Jonathan’s older sister.

The extended Polin family was together for Passover in Florida last month, including Hersh’s 85-year-old grandmother, Leah, when the video of Hersh in captivity was released.

“It was overwhelming but proof of life,” says Abby. Jonathan and his wife, Rachel Goldberg-Polin, were notified of the video by the Israeli and U.S. governments, 45 minutes in advance of its circulation.

When asked by the television news program, Morning Joe, about when the video may have been filmed, Rachel Goldberg-Polin replied, “It seems, according to intelligence…they believe this was made in the last couple of days.” A medical team who specializes in analysis through a screen believes that Hersh’s arm injury is about six months old, an injury that occurred when Hersh tried throwing a grenade from the bunker where he and others were sheltering at the Nova Music Festival.
Leah, Abby, and Bonnie Polin Pomper (also Hersh’s aunt), have all gone back and forth to Washington, D.C. to advocate for Israel and the hostages, including their attendance at the March for Israel where Rachel spoke from the podium. The Polin women went to Congress and the Senate, thanking members from both sides of the aisle for their support of Israel. Abby attended President Biden’s State of the Union address in March, standing in for Rachel and Jonathan who were attending an assembly for one of their two daughters.

“I filled in for Jonathan and Rachel for three days of meetings in March. We keep up awareness and advocate in Illinois, Massachusetts, and Florida,” Abby says, referring to their hometowns.

One of Hersh’s cousins, a junior at the University of Maryland, is also advocating for Israel. At a campus event, he spoke against supporting the BDS movement, an effort to boycott, divest and sanction Israel for its oppression of Palestinians. The measure to enact BDS was voted down.

While Rachel Goldberg-Polin shared on Morning Joe that she is appreciative, grateful, and blessed that hostage families have received so much support, she emphasized that more is needed. In an interview with Anderson Cooper, Jonathan said that the new video, “lights a fire under us even more than we already had to bring him and the other 132 hostages home as fast as we can.”

Abby describes Hersh as a smart, clever, strong, and personable young man. “I hope he’s giving the same strength to other hostages,” she says. “He’s the type of guy that everyone loves.”