Category: Stories of Impact

Earlier this month I traveled to Ukraine, Georgia, and Poland with a group of Federation executives to see firsthand the work our community makes possible through our partnership with JDC, The American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, one of the leading Jewish humanitarian organizations. I am still reflecting on our time but wanted to share three things I learned:

There was a strong sense of optimism among the Ukrainians we met.

Although we only ventured as far as western Ukraine, which is quieter than other parts, the effects of the war were ever-present. We spoke with several families who had been uprooted several times in the last 15 years as the conflict has expanded, and others in the midst of rebuilding their lives.

And still, I was struck by how optimistic the community was about the future. Displaced or not, they had each other. The relationships they formed gave them a sense of purpose and a community to both sustain and rely upon.

The Jewish community in Georgia is an ancient Diaspora community, dating back 2,600 years to the Babylonian exile.

In Ukraine, I was inspired by people rebuilding Jewish life after displacement. In Georgia, I was equally inspired by a community that has preserved Jewish life for more than two millennia.

Though histories vary across countries, the story of Eastern European Jewry is one of extraordinary resilience alongside extraordinary tragedy. Through World War I, the Holocaust, decades of Soviet repression—when Jews were not allowed to practice openly—and countless other hurdles, these communities have had to swim against the current of history to hold onto their traditions, their identity, and one another. This has not been easy, and many Jewish communities in the region are much smaller than they once were. But there are signs of renewal, thanks to the efforts of young leaders on the ground, dedicated organizations like JDC, and communities like ours who care about investing in global Jewry.

JDC has been doing amazing work for a long time—thanks to partners like Federation.

I saw photos from 1919 of JDC feeding war refugees in Poland. And some from 1940 showing JDC workers providing basic goods and clothing to the Warsaw Ghetto (the organization even helped fund the 1943 Warsaw Ghetto Uprising). For over a century now the Jewish people have come together to care for the vulnerable, in response to and despite immense global challenges.

This work is still being done today while evolving to meet emerging needs. For instance, we visited one of JDC’s Hesed welfare centers in Ukraine, established after the fall of the Soviet Union to care for elderly and vulnerable Jews. There, we heard about how the local Jewish community is serving those in need while also expanding their mental health offerings, refugee services, early childhood programs, and more.

I am deeply grateful to all the JDC team members who welcomed us and to everyone who shared their stories. I also want to extend a heartfelt thank you to everyone who helps make the amazing work underway happen through their support of Federation.

We talk all the time about investing in Jewish life and making good on the belief that we are all responsible for one another. This trip allowed me to see this promise in action. My time confirmed that one of the Jewish people’s greatest strengths is our willingness to show up for each other—a tradition as vital today as it has ever been.

P.S. I only scratched the surface here. If you’d like to hear more about the remarkable people I met and see additional photos from the trip, I hope you’ll watch the recording of our webinar. And if these stories remind you, as they did me, of what’s possible when we show up for one another, I invite you to support Federation’s Annual Campaign. Your generosity helps make partnerships like this a reality.

The first time Danielle Frum entered a mikvah (ritual bath), she wasn’t alone. In her arms was her newborn daughter, Miranda. It was 1991, and as mother and daughter immersed together, it symbolized the beginning of Miranda’s Jewish life and the moment Danielle formally became Jewish herself.

After she and David Frum married in 1988, the two spent their weekends wandering Manhattan, slipping into historic synagogues throughout the city simply to experience the different services. Raised Anglican/Episcopalian, Danielle had never been especially religious, but took a strong interest in Judaism shortly after their marriage.

Choosing Judaism

“I was drawn to Judaism because of its focus on this life,” she says. “Its emphasis on living an ethical, kind, and communal life regardless of whether it led to some sort of heaven or afterlife very much appealed to me.”

When Miranda was born, both David and Danielle decided to build a Jewish home and raise Jewish children. In the years that followed her conversion to Judaism, they welcomed two more children. Nathaniel, now 32, and Beatrice, now 24.

Lessons in Generosity

For David, Jewish values had shaped his childhood. His father’s family had little money, but every Passover his grandmother cooked more food than her own family could eat. The extra meals were carefully packed and delivered to neighbors who needed them. Clothes and blankets were boxed up and shipped to Jewish communities she would never meet.

His mother’s parents, meanwhile, devoted themselves to nearly every communal institution in their small city, the synagogue, the library, the burial society, and local charities. “If you arrive in a new place,” they taught him, “find the local charities, Jewish and non-Jewish, and give whatever you can.”

Years later, that same instinct led David and Danielle to the Jewish Federation of Greater Washington, where they have faithfully supported the community for more than two decades.

A Love for Israel

At 22, Miranda moved to Tel Aviv. She was dazzled by Israel’s youthful energy, creativity, and sense of possibility. She spent three years building a life there before eventually returning home, carrying with her a lasting love for the country.

Watching Miranda discover Israel inspired Danielle in return. She created a website celebrating Israeli culture through its artisans, food, and everyday life, hoping to share a side of the country that people didn’t always see.

Carried by Community

Throughout their lives together, Jewish ritual marked moments of joy, holidays, the birth of their children. They never imagined that those same traditions would one day carry them through unimaginable loss.

In February 2024, Miranda passed away suddenly at the young age of 32. In those first unbearable weeks, grief made even the smallest decisions feel impossible. “As we staggered through those days after Miranda died,” Danielle says, “these rituals told us what to do when we felt we couldn’t act.”

From the careful dignity with which Miranda’s body was prepared, to the funeral, shiva (mourning period), and burial, every step was guided by customs that had comforted grieving families for generations. Later came the unveiling of her headstone. Each year, there is the ritual of lighting a yahrzeit (memorial) candle.

“I’m very grateful to be part of the Jewish community,” Danielle says.

Their grief unfolded against another season of heartbreak for the Jewish people. Only months earlier, Hamas’ October 7 attack had devastated Israel. Miranda had lived the kind of life that made those events feel deeply personal. She loved music festivals like Nova, the outdoor festival that was attacked on that fateful day. Friends she had known during her years in Tel Aviv were called into military service. Some never returned.

The Legacy We Leave

To honor Miranda’s memory, David and Danielle gave to causes supporting Israel during one of its darkest moments.

“When we mourn,” David reflects, “we truly discover what it means to be one Jewish people. I know my living children will carry that awareness with them through their lives, and bequeath that awareness to children of their own.”

Today, David and Danielle are among the newest members of Federation’s Roots Society, which recognizes more than 20 years of support.

Looking back, their philanthropy has always been an expression of the values that have guided them from the very beginning: caring for others, strengthening Jewish community, and ensuring that no one has to face life’s greatest joys or deepest sorrows alone.

The values that first drew Danielle to Judaism. The lessons David learned at his grandparents’ table. The traditions that carried them through the unimaginable loss of their daughter. Together, they tell one story of a family rooted in community, sustained by faith, and committed to helping future generations find that same sense of belonging.

For readers who wish to learn more about Miranda and the family’s journey through grief, Danielle shares their story in her memoir, Dispatches from Grief: A Mother’s Journey Through the Unthinkable.

Interested in learning more about Federation’s Roots Society? Reach out to Natalia Straus, Federation’s Senior Director of Legacy Giving.

Tu B’Av is a time to celebrate love, connection, and the bonds that bring us together. This year, we’re highlighting a Jewish love story from our Federation community—showcasing the ways Judaism continues to shape the lives we build together.

Looking for Community

When Vanessa Sax moved to DC after college, she wasn’t looking for love. She was looking for community.

After settling into her first apartment on her own, she sought out ways to connect with Jewish life in her new city. So, she found and signed up for a DCJCC softball team.

It turned out Vanessa wasn’t the only newcomer.

Among the returning teammates was just one other new player: the man who would later become her husband.

One ‘Shalom’ Changed Everything

Like many great love stories, Vanessa and Kasey’s story didn’t begin with a grand romantic gesture. It began over post-game happy hours, where teammates gathered after each softball game.

During one of those happy hours, the two found themselves deep in conversation about Otter Pops (Freeze Ice if you’re on the east coast) and $1 beers and $2 grilled cheese sandwiches at a bar in Adams Morgan. “We spent the rest of the happy hour talking about many, many different topics,” she recalls.

As he walked her back to her car, a passing cab driver rolled down his window and enthusiastically shouted, “SHALOM!”. The unexpected greeting gave her exactly the opening she needed. Vanessa sent Kasey an email that simply began, “Shalom!” and invited him out to hunt for Otter Pops and for more $1 beers and $2 grilled cheese.

“He claims he was going to ask me out,” she laughs, “but I beat him to it!”.

Twenty-two years later, she says the story proves what they’ve both known all along: she’s the risk-taker in the relationship. That willingness to take chances led to a partnership built on curiosity, encouragement, and a shared commitment to growing together.

Vanessa admires Kasey’s endless desire to learn. Whether he’s mastering a new recipe, tackling a home repair, or teaching himself how to make Rummikub tiles by hand (mahjong tiles are next, she says), he approaches each new challenge with creativity and enthusiasm. “He loves learning and trying new things”.

Building a Jewish Home

That same spirit has shaped the Jewish life they’ve built together.

Today, celebrating Jewish holidays and passing along Jewish traditions to their daughters are at the heart of their family. Like many families, their extended relatives observe Judaism in different ways. Yet together, they have created traditions that belong uniquely to their own household while remaining deeply connected to generations that came before them.

A Chuppah Stitched with Love

One of those traditions quite literally surrounded them on their wedding day.

Instead of purchasing a chuppah, they created one together with the people they loved. Family members and friends each designed a fabric square, while her mother-in-law and sister-in-law lovingly stitched them together into the canopy beneath which they were married.

The chuppah still hangs in their home today.

“I would love for our girls to get married under it if that is their path in the future,” she says.

For Vanessa, sharing a Jewish life with her husband is about more than celebrating holidays or observing traditions. It is about sharing a history, a language of experiences, and a sense of belonging that continues to grow as their family grows.

She grew up in New York. He grew up in Los Angeles. Together, they built a life in DC. Although they came from opposite sides of the country, they quickly discovered that the Jewish community has a way of making the world feel smaller.

Finding Purpose Through Community

Years later, that same sense of belonging inspired Vanessa to make Jewish community-building her career. After working in commercial real estate, she took a leap of faith into Jewish communal life, deciding to join The Jewish Federation of Greater Washington—a move Kasey supported wholeheartedly.

Today, she serves as Federation’s Senior Director for Strategy and Community Building in Northern Virginia, helping others find the same sense of connection that first brought her to a softball field all those years ago. Learn more about Federation’s work in NoVA.

Weaving the Next Generation

“Jewish geography is a wonderful tapestry to be a part of,” she says.

It’s a tapestry she hopes her daughters will continue weaving as they build lives of their own: carrying with them the traditions, relationships, and sense of belonging that began with one decision to join a Jewish softball team.

This Tu B’Av, we celebrate not only the moments that bring people together, but the Jewish communities that help those moments become lifelong stories. Sometimes, finding your place in the Jewish community can lead to finding the person with whom you’ll build a Jewish future. And sometimes, it inspires a career dedicated to helping others find that sense of belonging, too.

While touring one of the oldest synagogues in Mexico City on our recent Women’s Philanthropy mission, our guide said something that has stayed with me.

“There are so many ways to be Jewish.”

That is the beauty of Judaism. There is no single way to feel connected, to be seen, or to create meaning within this religion and this community. There are countless ways. While I had heard that before, standing where I was standing, surrounded by the people I was traveling with, it landed differently. It felt truer than ever.

As co-chair of the Jewish Federation of Greater Washington’s Women’s Philanthropy Mission to Mexico City, I had the privilege of helping lead a group of extraordinary women through an experience that moved between history and contemporary Jewish life—from walking through the historic center of Mexico City and visiting long-standing synagogues, to spending time at community institutions like the Centro Deportivo Israelita and Olami ORT, where Jewish life is actively being shaped for the future.

Everywhere we went, we saw that truth reflected back to us. We visited organizations and communities that have built something remarkable for the people they serve, each one shaped by its own history and its current needs. I left inspired by the reminder of what is possible when people decide to build.

Finding My Place

I have carried that feeling home, and it has me thinking about all the ways I can create my own Jewish identity within the communities I belong. As a parent raising three Jewish children. Within my close circle of friends. In my community here at home. And in the wider work of Federation, both in DC and at the national level. The trip gave me a new lens for seeing my own role, not as someone who simply participates, but as someone who can help build and shape what comes next.

And of course, what I will remember most is the people.

The Best Conversations Happened in Traffic

This trip was, at its heart, about building connection. And yes, we spent more than our fair share of time on the bus, moving between sites like Xochimilco, Casa Gilardi, and neighborhood community spaces, but even that became part of the experience. Those hours gave me the chance to truly get to know so many of the women on the trip.

To me, that is what being Jewish has always been about: relationships and connection.

I am deeply grateful to have served as a co-chair of this experience, and even more grateful for the people who made the journey alongside me. I returned home inspired to keep creating, and to keep building the connections that hold our community together.

There Are Countless Ways

One of the things I value most about Federation is that it creates space for each of us to explore our Jewish identity in ways that are meaningful to us. Whether through Women’s Philanthropy, travel experiences like this one, or the many opportunities to learn, connect, and give back throughout the year, there are countless ways to find your place and help shape our community.

If you’re curious about where your own Jewish journey might lead, I hope you’ll consider joining a future Women’s Philanthropy event or mission. You never know which conversation, which community, or which moment will stay with you long after you have returned home.

Looking to experience the power of Jewish community firsthand? Learn more about Federation’s giving societies like Women’s Philanthropy, or find a local event through our Community Calendar.

Every career has a beginning. Mine might have started before I was born.

When I interviewed at The Jewish Federation of Greater Washington, part of the process included a writing exercise. The assignment was straightforward: write a sample fundraising appeal. So I sat down at my desk, opened my laptop, and got to work.

The desk where I wrote that appeal once belonged to my maternal grandfather, my Opa.

Long before I became a Jewish professional, long before I learned the language of campaigns, community building, stewardship, and philanthropy, my grandfather was doing the same work. From this very desk.

Opa’s story began oceans away from mine. As a young Jewish boy, he escaped the horrors of Europe during World War II, fleeing from country to country, even in Mandatory Palestine before Israel became a state, before eventually building a new life in the Bay Area, California. Along the way, he became a military officer, journalist, a traveler, and a gifted communicator. Fluent in five languages, he spent years telling stories and connecting with people across cultures and borders.

Eventually, those talents led him to a career in Jewish communal service. He became the Western Regional Director of United Jewish Appeal (which later evolved into Jewish Federations of North America), helping raise funds and build support for Jewish communities around the world. His friends were politicians and celebrities. He helped bring some of the earliest Israeli emissaries to the West Coast, a precursor to the shlichim programs that remain such an important part of Jewish communal life today. He founded my home synagogue in Northern California. And he spent the rest of his life helping strengthen Jewish community.

I was far too young when he passed away. I never had the chance to know him as an adult, to ask him about his travels, his work, or what it felt like to dedicate a lifetime to serving the Jewish people.

But somehow, pieces of him found their way to me anyway.

More than a decade ago, I began my own journey as a Jewish professional. Different organizations. Different communities, different coasts. Yet so often, I find myself drawn to the same things that animated his work: relationships, storytelling, connection, and the belief that communities are strongest when people come together in service of something larger than themselves.

Sometimes I wonder what he would think of today’s overall Jewish landscape and its space in our world. The man who embraced technology and innovation would have been fascinated by social media, virtual meetings, and the ability to connect with people across the globe with the click of a button. And I suspect he would have loved the fact that, thanks to a hybrid workplace, I now spend part of every week working from home at the very desk where he once wrote his own appeals.

A desk that has quietly served the Jewish community since the 1950s.

A desk that has witnessed handwritten letters, fundraising plans, newspaper articles, family photographs, and now Zoom calls and digital campaigns.

The wood is older now. So am I. But the work continues, and there is something deeply comforting about that.

In a world that changes so quickly, it feels almost magical to place my hands where his once rested and know that, in some small way, we are connected through a shared purpose.

Perhaps that is what legacy really is – the quiet passing of values from one generation to the next. The belief that community matters. The willingness to serve. The courage to tell stories that inspire people to care.

And sometimes, if you are very lucky, a sturdy wooden desk.

The photograph above is of my Opa and me at that same desk many years ago. Neither of us could have known then that one day it would become mine. Or that decades later, we would still be doing the same work together. Z”l Opa 

I’ve spent a lifetime experiencing the incredible, vibrant diversity of the Jewish world. I grew up Conservative in Toronto, navigated Reform spaces in Anaheim after my family moved there when I was nine, engaged with Chabad, and even spent time backpacking through Israel, staying on my family’s kibbutz.

Moving around as much as I have, I’ve seen just about every model of Jewish community layout imaginable, from tiny, 20-family pockets with a traveling rabbi to massive communities where people only show up for the High Holidays. Experiencing that full spectrum also gave me a deeper understanding about what makes a Jewish community thrive.

When my family and I moved to Alexandria right before the pandemic, we knew it was time to finally put down deep roots and find a true home in our local community. I jumped into leadership, eventually chairing several committees at Beth El Hebrew Congregation. But while I loved my synagogue, I couldn’t shake a familiar feeling: NoVA’s Jewish community was missing out on key opportunities to come together.

The structures we’ve inherited naturally build walls between community leaders throughout our region. But the reality is, leaders across our different NoVA organizations actually want to work together. At our core, we are facing the same challenges and chasing the same goals. We are more alike than we realize and are stronger and more effective together. We just needed the space, the trust, and the opportunity to do it.

That opportunity came for me when I learned about Federation’s Northern Virginia Leadership Cohort from Carly Rubenstein, Board President at Beth El. She told me it was something I’d find fascinating and impactful for my work in the community. I didn’t know a single other person who had signed up for it, but I decided to take the leap.

Professional-Grade Tools for Community Transformation

I recently took six months off from the corporate world to dedicate myself fully to volunteering as a leader in Jewish communal work, so I wasn’t looking for a casual networking mixer. I wanted something substantial. To my surprise, the caliber of this Federation program ranked right up there with the absolute best professional development trainings I’ve ever done in the corporate sector.

Led by renowned leadership consultant Rae Ringel, the program is entirely about giving you tools, learning by doing, and doing in a group of leaders who have the same mission and values. Through a dynamic mix of in-person and virtual sessions, Rae guided us through “connection modalities” that taught us how to surface differing perspectives, navigate difficult conversations, and truly articulate both our personal stories and our organizations’ missions.

For me, the most tangible takeaway was learning structured, innovative frameworks to pull apart larger, sometimes overwhelming community challenges into manageable, actionable pieces, building the concrete skills to execute your vision.

The Power of Coalition: “Shipbuilding” in NoVA

What surprised me most, though, was the sheer willingness of everyone in the room to work together.

There is a distinct difference between standard corporate or nonprofit experience and Jewish nonprofit experience. To me, the main difference is “shipbuilding,” learning how to build lasting coalitions across different denominations, synagogues, and grassroots organizations in a casual, high-trust environment.

The Jewish Federation of Greater Washington understands this, explicitly designing the program to facilitate these deep connections by assigning us to smaller “coffee groups,” which became the foundation for real collaboration.

Just this week I was texting with another participant from my cohort. We recreate those coffee groups all the time. We are constantly leaning on one another, bouncing ideas off each other, and using the exact problem-solving structures we learned together to figure out how to best serve Jewish NoVA.

By bringing together leaders from across the Jewish communal space in NoVA, Federation is actively weaving a powerful network of friends and collaborators. The cohort has allowed lay leaders and professionals across the region to realize we are not facing our challenges alone.

Now’s The Time: Join the Third NoVA Leadership Cohort

If you are reading this and feeling even a little bit intrigued, my advice to you is simple: don’t be afraid to give it a shot.

Whether you are a seasoned board member, a dedicated committee chair, an engaged volunteer, or someone who hasn’t held a formal leadership role yet but has a passionate desire to grow, this cohort will give you the tools to decide how you want to be involved and the lifelong network to back you up.

Federation is launching the third Northern Virginia Leadership Cohort this fall. From August 2026 through May 2027, a new group of 16–20 lay leaders will come together for a kickoff event, a closing celebration, and 8 monthly sessions (alternating between in-person and Zoom) led once again by Rae Ringel. To learn more and nominate a talented and dedicated individual with a desire to grow in their Jewish leadership journey (including yourself), please see here.

We need a diverse set of organizations, ages, and perspectives to make a truly strong, vibrant, and unified NoVA Jewish community a reality.

Take it from me—it is entirely worth the investment.

Standing in a synagogue in Thessaloniki, Greece, the weight of history hits you all at once.

Before World War II, this city was the cultural heart of Sephardic Jewish life, so vibrant it was called the “Jerusalem of the Balkans.” But during the Holocaust, the community was wiped out with horrifying speed. In less than six months, 96% of the Jewish population was murdered. Out of 50,000 people, fewer than 2,000 survived.

I was in Thessaloniki this past May on a study mission with Cabinet, the Jewish Federations of North America’s (JFNA) five-year leadership program for volunteer leaders aged 30-45.

Finding the Path to Jewish Leadership with Federation

I didn’t grow up in a Federation family. When my wife and I settled down to raise our kids, that was when we first sought out The Jewish Federation of Greater Washington. As a financial advisor, I was inspired by the generous giving of a few clients that donate directly from their retirement accounts to places they care about. I knew I wanted to be involved in philanthropy, and Federation felt like the right fit, because it allowed us to give broadly. It was comforting to know our dollars would act as a wide safety net, directly benefiting our community members who need services and support.

As our journey with Federation developed, I wanted to learn more, develop deeper friendships, and continue to grow a professional community of peers. That’s when I decided to join Cabinet. I knew this opportunity would be a key pathway for me to grow my impact and my connection to my Jewish community. What I didn’t know at the time was that it would also connect me to our broader Jewish family.

How Cabinet Connected Me Beyond Greater Washington

Cabinet missions shift between Israel and various diaspora communities like Hungary, Argentina, or Greece, pulling leaders out of their home communities to show them exactly where our collective dollars go globally. Traveling to Greece with our cohort this past May completely shifted my perspective, opening my eyes to a corner of the Jewish world I never would have experienced on my own.

While in Thessaloniki, our Cabinet cohort met a local family who beat those impossible wartime odds. The mother is a survivor, and her family only made it through because her father had immigrated from Germany. In a community where almost everyone spoke Ladino or Greek, no one spoke German. His ability to understand and translate became their only shield. To sit across from their descendants today, generations later, still living, practicing, and maintaining a Jewish life there, was a total “wow” moment.

A World Away, Yet Family

In Athens, our cohort sat in a Jewish-owned coffee house and listened to a widowed mother talk about life post-October 7. She shared how her social circle has had to pull inward because the rise in visible antisemitism on the streets is impossible to ignore. You can’t walk through Athens right now and not be reminded that you are different. Yet, at the same time, the city has become a haven for Israelis migrating from the conflict.

Without the access and immersion provided by Cabinet, I wouldn’t have had these raw, firsthand conversations. I wouldn’t have seen how our giving acts as a vital lifeline for our global family.

At a time when our world and our own communities can feel incredibly fractured, seeing that global connection was good medicine. It was a powerful reminder that there are people around the world who see things exactly the way we do, who see us as part of their collective identity, and who are just happy we showed up.

Finding Your Pathway

When I first joined Cabinet, my kids were very young, and finding the time felt daunting. But my message to my peers in Greater Washington is simple: you have to challenge yourself. If your community and your identity matter to you, you have to actively create the time for it.

You don’t need an abundance of hours to get involved, but you do need to step up. Find your own pathway, define it, and do it. What you do will stay with you forever.

Learn more about how you can get involved in Federation here.

It was pouring. The kind of heavy, relentless DC rain that usually keeps everyone inside. But on that night, out at Metrobar, nobody seemed to care about getting soaked.

It was the launch party for The Jewish Federation of Greater Washington’s Next Gen rebrand in November 2021, and it was the first time in a year and a half, after the long, cooped-up isolation of the pandemic, that this community of 20, 30, and 40-somethings was finally coming together in person. Looking out at the crowd laughing and talking through the downpour, you could feel the sheer joy of people finally together again.

Watching them, I saw the future of our community taking shape in the rain. And for me, as I step into my new role as Federation’s Senior Director of Financial Resource Development (FRD), it remains a deeply personal touchstone.

Inheriting a 50-Year Legacy

My understanding of Jewish community was shaped long before I began my professional journey here, by my paternal grandfather, Murray Green. I grew up watching his deep involvement with Jewish communal organizations in New York. As a child, I remember going to the galas and functions where he was honored, watching a generation that took absolute, unconditional responsibility for building the institutional Jewish life we inherit today. The camps, the day schools, the very foundations of our community.

Today, we are navigating challenges he could have never foreseen back in the 1970s. We are managing a deeply polarized political landscape, a painful rise in antisemitism, and shrinking attention spans driven by social media.

Judaism has always been a place for robust debate, where we can argue passionately in one room and eat bagels together at kiddush in the next, but that civic fabric is eroding in American life at large. Federation is the place where the capital, the relationships, and the leadership come together to find solutions to these massive, modern challenges.

Where the Personal Meets the Professional

I began my work in non-profit fundraising 13 years ago, first at Achilles International in New York, followed by the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation in Bethesda. By my late 20s, I realized I was working constantly but lacking a community of my own.

I figured, why not mold my personal and professional worlds together? 

That’s what brought me here six years ago, starting just six weeks before COVID-19 changed everything. Since then, Federation has been the backdrop of my entire life. Over these past pivotal years, I got engaged, married, survived the pandemic, went through the emotional rollercoaster of IVF, and brought two beautiful children into the world. Through every high and low, the staff and lay leaders here have had my back.

In fact, after my first child was born, I took a look at my baby registry out of pure curiosity. To my absolute amazement, Federation donors were the second-largest cohort of people who contributed. Today, every single time I pick up my diaper bag or wrap my kids in a blanket, I think of the specific donor who sent it to us.

Deepening Connection Every Day

That is the beauty of this work. It’s all about the long arc of relationships. We aren’t just looking for a transactional gift right now. We are investing in 40-year relationships, walking alongside people from the very beginning of their leadership journeys.

Now, as I help lead our FRD team, my biggest priority is deepening the connections we’ve been building across every corner of our community. We have incredible younger adults eager to meet seasoned leaders, and we have senior leaders who want to mentor and pass down their philanthropic values.

My goal is to continue the work of weaving these generations together into one succinct tapestry of programming and relationships. To create a community where a young professional feels entirely comfortable making an 8 p.m. Sunday phone call to a seasoned mentor for advice, building organic, multi-generational networks that exist outside of organizational boxes.

The Power of Showing Up

When I need a total break from the fast-paced world of strategy and campaign goals, you can find me outside. My perfect, work-free Sunday is spent with my husband, our three-year-old, and our five-month-old, walking around the zoo, soaking in the greenery, or pushing the stroller on a run.

When I look at my two small children, I think constantly about continuity. They are the future, and they are the reason we do this.

Right now, there are over 400,000 Jewish people across the Greater Washington metro area, spanning from the vibrant tech hubs of Northern Virginia to the heart of the District. Yet, only a fraction of those households currently contribute to our annual campaign. Too often, people fall into the trap of thinking, “Someone else will take care of it,” or “My single donation doesn’t matter that much.” 

But the truth is, it doesn’t work unless everyone participates.

If you care about the overarching continuity and safety of the entire Jewish ecosystem, and if you want to ensure there is a vibrant, connected community for the next 75 years, you can achieve it with Federation.

I want every single Jewish person in our region to know that if they pick up the phone, they can find a place where they truly belong.

We have the imagination, the capacity, and the heart to build that future together.

Rain or shine.

On Tuesday evening, Federation gathered for our Annual Meeting. What stayed with me most wasn’t any single speech or report, but the reminder of what makes Jewish Greater Washington so extraordinary: people who continue to show up for one another, invest in one another, and lead with purpose.

Throughout the evening, we returned to some of the questions many of us have been wrestling with since October 7. Who are we? What kind of future do we want to build? Those questions do not have simple answers, but remarkable people across our community are committed to helping answer them.

Several leaders reflected on how Federation helped shape their journeys, sharing that the people you learn with often become the people you lead with. That idea captures so much of what Federation strives to do. We bring people together, invest in their growth, and help them discover their capacity to lead.

I was grateful for the opportunity to recognize Immediate Past Board Chair Robin Hettleman Weinberg for her years of dedicated service and to welcome Jill Granader as our new Board Chair, alongside our 2026–27 Community Leadership Council, Board of Directors, and Jewish Community Foundation Trustees. Their dedication, vision, and willingness to serve give me tremendous confidence in the future of Jewish Greater Washington.

As I shared during the evening, no matter what challenges lie ahead, Federation’s core commitments remain unchanged. We are responsible for one another, and we are strongest when we face the future together.

In a world that often feels uncertain, there is comfort in knowing that thoughtful, caring, and deeply committed leaders are stepping forward. Federation has spent generations helping cultivate those leaders and strengthening the relationships that sustain our community.

If Tuesday night reminded me of anything, it is this: our future is in very good hands.

The air inside Bialik 26 was thick with excitement. It was May 2018, seven years before the world as we knew it would fracture on October 7, and the popular Be’er Sheva neighborhood spot was packed to the brim. That night, the student cafe was the beating heart of the city’s queer community. Everyone was crammed shoulder-to-shoulder, eyes glued to the glowing screens broadcasting the world’s largest music competition, the Eurovision Song Contest.

Netta Barzilai was onstage singing “Toy,” an unapologetic, feminist anthem wrapped in quirky pop brilliance and thousands of shining lucky cats (see them in all their magnificence here). When the final votes came in and Israel was declared the winner, the whole place burst into tears and cheers.

We couldn’t believe it had actually happened. Israel had won the contest exactly 20 years after its last win in 1998!

It was one of the most powerful, unforgettable moments of my life. That night, the entire country felt unified in an overwhelming wave of pure, unadulterated joy.

The Reality of Being a Shlicha Today

Fast forward to nearly a year ago, when I packed up my life in Israel and moved to the U.S. to begin as a shlicha (Israeli emissary) at The Jewish Federation of Greater Washington. At a time when so many are navigating their relationship with Israel, Federation’s shlichim program brings Israelis into local classrooms, synagogues, and living rooms, creating a space for real conversation and connection.

Shortly after I arrived, I quickly realized that being an Israeli emissary today looks radically different than it did in the past. In our post-October 7 reality, discussions about Israel and Jewish life are heavier, more emotional, and infinitely more complex. At the same time, they are deeply rooted in something essential: Jewish peoplehood, shared identity, and joy.

From the beginning, I felt a strong responsibility to show up for difficult conversations about Israel wherever they happened. But, over time, I’ve come to understand that my role is also to offer something broader, to reflect the full story of Israel and the Jewish people. Not only complexity and challenge, but also resilience, pride, and (even) fun.

That understanding came together this month in a very natural way with one of the most unifying cultural moments in Jewish and Israeli life-Eurovision season!

For anyone here in America, you might not have even heard of Eurovision, or maybe you’re just noticing it pop up on your feeds now that it’s finally having a breakout moment on TikTok. But in Israel? It’s like the Super Bowl, but for musicians. It’s a massive song contest combining fierce cultural pride, voting drama, and representation on the global stage.

With Israel proudly taking home second-place just last week, it was the perfect moment for me to help our Greater Washington community look at Israel through a different soundtrack.

A Nation’s Story, Written in Song

Ever since October 7, it is incredibly easy for our relationship with Israel to be entirely defined by trauma, crisis, and anxiety. But relationships can’t survive on the negative. If we only look at Israel through the lens of heartbreak, we lose sight of the very thing we are trying to protect.

Through Federation’s Hands On Israel workshops, I get to move past headlines and bring the real, lived reality of my home directly into local spaces. Over the past few weeks, I traveled across multiple communities in Greater Washington, using the lens of Eurovision to open a portal into Israeli society.

I shared how Israel celebrated its first historic win in 1978 with Izhar Cohen’s “A Ba Ni Bi” just five years after we entered the contest in 1973. Then, just a year later in 1979, “Hallelujah” captured the magic of hosting the contest in Jerusalem for the first time, launching us to a back-to-back victory. By 1983, the tone shifted to one of profound historical weight, when Ofra Haza sang “Chai” (alive) defiantly in Munich, Germany. The song became a breathtaking symbol of Jewish resilience in the shadow of a horrifying past.

As the decades marched on, the music mirrored a rapidly modernizing society. In 1998, Dana International’s historic win with “Diva” reflected a 1990s Israel that was embracing groundbreaking LGBTQ+ inclusion, female empowerment, and cultural openness.

Twenty years later, that legacy of radical representation culminated in Netta’s “Toy,” bringing a bold, global feminist voice back to the stage that I felt reverberate firsthand that night at Bialik 26.

The most recent chapters of our Eurovision journey allowed us to share the raw, immediate grief of our current era on the global stage. Eden Golan’s “Hurricane” in 2024 is deeply tied to the post-October 7 reality, capturing a nation’s immediate trauma and its stubborn insistence on standing tall despite the storm. The music looks forward with “A New Day Will Rise” in 2025, speaking directly to our collective yearning for renewal and rebuilding.

And just a week ago, we were able to experience the thrill in real time, as we listened to Noam Bettan capture hearts across the world (and a second-place win) with his powerful song, “Michelle.”

Shared Identity Over Debate

One of the most moving parts of this journey was watching the transformation inside the rooms here in Greater Washington. Across different synagogues, community centers, and living rooms, local American Jews and Israeli expats sat together in the same space. This kind of programming creates an exciting entry point into Jewish peoplehood. It moves the conversation into the heart, allowing people to connect emotionally. I am so grateful to be part of this work and to Federation for making this, and so many other meaningful Israel programs, available right here in our region.

Looking back at that euphoric night in Be’er Sheva in 2018, I am reminded that joy is a form of resilience. And as I continue my work here, I carry that music with me, always hoping, of course, to one day bring the trophy home again.

Interested in bringing similar experiential Israel education to your local community? Check out Federation’s Hands On Israel workshops to get started.

Learn more about Federation’s work strengthening Jewish peoplehood and sharing Israeli culture here.