It’s hard to describe the emotional whiplash of the past few months. We’ve witnessed horrifying acts of antisemitic violence both here at home—including the attacks in Boulder and at the Capital Jewish Museum—and abroad. The fear and pain reverberating through our community are real and raw.

I’ve found myself thinking often of Sara Milgrim z”l  and Yaron Lischinsky  z”l , and all those still recovering from the Boulder firebombing. May their memories be a blessing.

Just days before the D.C. shooting, I returned from a week-long journey to Poland organized by our partner, the American Joint Distribution Committee (JDC), and 3GNY. The trip brought together third-generation descendants of Holocaust survivors and others with a familial lineage to Poland and the Holocaust, to connect with Jewish life today in Poland.

My great-grandparents were born and raised in Poland. They fled in the late 1920s and early 1930s to escape pogroms, antisemitism, and poverty, eventually landing in Cuba. They left behind their parents, siblings, and entire communities, most of whom perished in the Holocaust.

Our group visited Kraków, Warsaw, and Łódź. We walked through ghettos and cemeteries, and we spent a powerful, heart-wrenching day at Auschwitz. We listened to one another’s family stories—tales of survival and resistance, loss and love. It was heavy. And yet, it was also deeply connective.

Amid the grief, we encountered something remarkable: life. Resilience. A Jewish community in Poland that, while small, is vibrant, proud, and growing.

At JCC Krakow, we saw firsthand how Federation support is making a difference. The center is a hub of Jewish life—hosting Shabbat dinners, running a preschool and day camp, and helping Ukrainian refugees, Jewish and non-Jewish alike. We visited their distribution center, which continues to offer food, clothing, toiletries, and toys to those in need.

We also met young adults from Hillel International Krakow. Many didn’t grow up Jewish; some only recently discovered their Jewish heritage. Yet they’ve chosen to build community, connect with Jewish identity, and take part in Jewish life. Today, more than 200 young people are active in Hillel Krakow. That choice—to embrace a Jewish identity in Poland, of all places—is deeply moving.

In Warsaw, the POLIN Museum blew me away. It traces a thousand years of Jewish life in Poland—from vibrant shtetls to intellectual movements, to the devastation of the Holocaust and the rebirth that followed. It’s one of the most thoughtful and comprehensive museums I’ve ever visited.

This trip was a rollercoaster of emotions—grief, pride, hope, disbelief. But I came home feeling something I never expected: optimism. Against all odds, Jewish life in Poland is not only persisting—it is reemerging.

One person said to our group, “There’s something inherently Jewish about Poland. Polish history wouldn’t be Polish history without Jewish history.” I agree. And I’d add: Jewish history wouldn’t be complete without Poland—the good, the bad, and the unimaginable.

This experience gave me more than memories. It renewed my sense of purpose. At a time when antisemitism is rising, I’m more committed than ever to standing up for our community. But I’m also determined to celebrate us—to lift up the vibrant, diverse, and global Jewish life that continues to thrive.

Together, let’s remember. Let’s rebuild. Let’s keep showing up for one another—in grief, in strength, and in joy.