Finding My Way Back Home to Hadassah

Like most Jews around the globe, my world changed forever on October 7, 2023. Waking up to the news of the horrific attack unfolding halfway around the world, I felt shock, grief and fear. Images of people I love who live in Israel flashed through my mind. I thought of the beautiful and significant places I’d visited in our Holy Land. The idea that some of those places were, right at that moment, being invaded and desecrated by Hamas terrorists was too much to bear.

I spent the next few weeks wandering in a fog of shock and disbelief. The outpouring of rage and hostility directed not only at Israel (which was shocking in itself), but also at Jews around the world caught me completely off guard. I quickly sought out the comfort of online communities, which were springing up daily on social media. I longed for real-life connection with people whose hearts were breaking the same as mine, but I was finding in-person communities difficult to find.

Photo courtesy of the author.

As the weeks passed and the attacks on “Zionists” (aka Jews) continued to rise, I found myself thinking a lot about the many years I spent as a member of Young Judaea (YJ), the peer-led Zionist youth movement backed by Hadassah. My summers as a camper at YJ’s Camp Tel Yehudah and as a counselor at YJ’s Camp Sprout Lake were transformational. I loved the sense of community, joy and connection to a tradition that goes back thousands of years.

Because YJ was a Zionist group, there were often programs dedicated to teaching about Israel. There were fun activities, like building the map of Israel out of ice cream or learning about the Israeli parliament by coming to a consensus on what toppings to put in a falafel sandwich. There were also more serious programs where we learned about Israeli heroes who lost their lives protecting their country. We observed Tishah B’Av through somber prayer and reflection.

The highlight of my YJ experience was the trip I took to Israel the summer after my junior year of high school. Through time spent at the Western Wall in Jerusalem, on an Israel Defense Forces army base, on the top of Masada at sunrise and in the hauntingly quiet halls of Yad Vashem, the World Holocaust Remembrance Center, my growing love for the land and the people of Israel was cemented.

Photo courtesy of the author.

In my adult life before October 7, my Hadassah friend Sara Resnick had repeatedly invited me to join her at local Hadassah events. And I had repeatedly brushed her invitations aside. When I thought of Hadassah, I thought of people in my grandmother’s generation, and I decided it wasn’t for me.

Things started to feel different after October 7 and I wondered if I was missing something. Maybe a Hadassah event would be more than a group of old ladies sitting around drinking tea. Maybe I’d find some like-minded women who were craving connection, just like me. So when Sara reached out in October 2024 and invited me to a Hadassah Hanukkah party she was hosting, I actually considered it. I penciled it on to my calendar, but I wasn’t quite ready to commit.

Photo courtesy of the author.

And then the news broke that American-Israeli hostage (and former Young Judaean) Omer Neutra was presumed dead. He had been in Hamas captivity since October 7, 2023, but it was determined that he had actually been killed on that day; his dead body had been held in the Hamas terror tunnels for over a year at that point.

It took a few days for my thoughts to come together, but a week later, I posted the following on Facebook:

I’ve been carrying the weight of Omer Neutra’s death for a week, and I haven’t had a chance to write about it. So here goes. I didn’t know Omer, but he was part of the same youth movement that I belonged to when I was growing up. As a Young Judaea alum, I receive newsletters and Facebook updates from the movement. I got to know Omer through the updates sent out over the summer by Camp Young Judaea Sprout Lake. This past summer, campers at Sprout Lake took a field trip to meet Omer’s parents, played basketball in honor of Omer (his favorite sport), sent letters to hostage families and did fundraising to benefit the Hostage and Missing Families Forum.

His story became real and personal to the Sprout Lake community — both those who were at camp this summer and those following along at home. My summers as a counselor at Sprout Lake were a foundational part of my identity (My school friends used to joke that going to college was just what I did to fill the time between camp seasons!). Some of my fondest memories are of the music we shared together at camp –the traditional tunes of Friday night services, the silly songs at lunch time on Saturday, the cheers led by counselors at morning flagpole time. My favorite song of all was Young Judaea’s theme song, “Ani V’Ata” (You and I):

You and I, we’ll change the world
You and I, then all the others will come
It was already said before
It doesn’t matter
You and I, we’ll change the world.

Whenever I hear this song, I am immediately transported back to the hill outside of the dining hall at Camp Sprout Lake. It’s Saturday night and we are singing “shira sh’keita” (quiet songs), enjoying the last moments of Shabbat together before entering a new week. In my youthful idealism, these words were very real to me. I committed, with every fiber of my being, to join with all the people singing with me at that moment, and every Young Judaean who had sung that song before me. I really believed that together, we would change the world.

I was shocked and saddened when I heard about Omer’s death. The pain his family must have felt learning that Omer had been murdered on October 7, and that his body has been held hostage in the Gaza terror tunnels for over a year now. 

Although I didn’t know Omer personally, I know that he was on a path to change the world for the good. And in his honor, I recommit to doing my part to make positive change in whatever ways I can.

May Omer’s memory be a blessing.

With a heavy heart, I posted the tribute. Within five minutes, I received a text from Sara that read, “I just saw your post. Please come to the Hadassah party. You need to come full circle.” And so I did.

I know it will sound like I’m exaggerating, but within moments of entering Sara’s house, I felt my body untense for the first time since October 7. I was warmly welcomed by women I’d never met before and yet I felt an immediate, sisterly connection. This is it, I thought; I’ve found my people.

Within an hour, I had signed up to participate in the 2025 Evolve Hadassah Northeast Network. I committed to attending monthly meetings with a local community of 10 other women close to my age. The Network’s “curriculum” is learning about the extraordinary work that Hadassah does, both in Israel and around the world. The Network’s goal is to connect us with one another, develop our leadership skills and, hopefully, link us up with opportunities to exercise those skills in service of Hadassah’s mission and programs.

We are living in dark, scary times. The Evolve Hadassah Northeast Network has been a source of light and inspiration since the moment I joined. Even though it’s only been a few months, I’ve already established bonds. I’ve also connected with the Hadassah Educators Council and the Hadassah Writers’ Circle.

My friend Sara’s question for me (and one I ask myself as well) is, “What took you so long?” It took longer than it should have to find my way back to Hadassah, but I’m certainly grateful to Sara for guiding me back home.

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Alison is a member of the Hadassah Writers’ Circle, a dynamic and diverse writing group for leaders and members to express their thoughts and feelings about all the things Hadassah does to make the world a better place. It’s where they celebrate their personal Hadassah journeys and share their Jewish values, family traditions and interpretations of Jewish texts. Since 2019, the Hadassah Writers’ Circle has published nearly 650 columns in The Times of Israel Blogs and other Jewish media outlets. Interested? Please contact hwc@hadassah.org.