Inspiration from Hersh Goldberg-Polin: Where You Have a Why, You Can Find a Way

Recently, I went to Nashville, Tennessee, to attend the Jewish Funders Network #JFN2025 conference. At the conference, we discussed the storms of political dysfunction, rising anti-Semitism, Israel’s challenges, economic uncertainty, climate change, and more.
Nashville is a vibrant city, one where music and faith intertwine—but today it’s also a city grappling with the aftermath of tornadoes and extreme flooding—stark reminders of the escalating climate crisis we all face. And yet, while at #JFN2025, I found something deeply grounding: hope, courage, and clarity.
That clarity came from hearing my friend Jon Polin and his wife Rachel Goldberg-Polin speak.
Jon and Rachel, as you know, are the parents of Hersh Goldberg-Polin—a young man with a radiant soul, kidnapped by Hamas on October 7, 2023, and later brutally murdered in captivity. Hersh’s story is heartbreaking. But it’s also awe-inspiring.
In the midst of unimaginable darkness, Hersh became a source of light for others. Recently released hostages shared with Jon and Rachel that during their time underground, Hersh gave them the strength to carry on. He spoke to them about the core message of Viktor Frankl, the Holocaust survivor and psychiatrist, and his book, Man’s Search for Meaning. The message is: “Those who have a ‘why’ to live, can bear with almost any ‘how.’” Hersh reminded his fellow captives: If you have a why, you can find your way.
That quote hasn’t left me.
Like the Goldberg-Polin family, I believe in fighting for a better world—and doing so with purpose. As a Maryland Climate Commissioner and an advocate working at the intersection of climate, disability access, and opportunity, I see people every day grappling with “hows” that seem insurmountable.
Maryland is facing a massive budget shortfall, on top of waves of federal layoffs and cuts affecting our state’s workforce. And yet, our state legislators continue to show up with drive and focus. They’re working to solve budget challenges, lower energy prices while advancing cleaner energy, protect vulnerable communities, and meet the demands of a rapidly changing world.
After seeing Jon and Rachel speak, I wanted to do something to bring Hersh’s spirit—and Frankl’s message—into the hearts of Maryland’s leaders. So I selected 36 of them. In Jewish tradition, 18 symbolizes life. So double chai—36—is about reinforcing life and resilience, especially in times of despair. I chose 36 legislators across geographic lines, all of whom I’ve come to know—or know better—through working with them this session on climate and other pressing issues in the Maryland legislature.

I wrote them each a personal letter. I recruited a friend and together we went door to door (of course while wearing a yellow ribbon hostage pin and #BringThemHome dog tag necklace) to the legislators and/or their staff to give them their letter and a copy of Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning. I’d like to share part of that letter here, because I hope you will find that it speaks to something we all need to hear right now: As you know, the hardships we face today—whether economic, environmental, or social—are only growing more intense. Climate change is already testing our physical resilience, but what often goes unspoken is the need for mental and spiritual resilience as well. In the face of uncertainty and adversity, we must strengthen not just our infrastructure, but also our inner resolve.
This week, I had the chance to be with my friend Jon Polin and his wife, Rachel. I believe you may have seen them speak at the Democratic National Convention or in the media about their son, Hersh, who was kidnapped, tortured, and murdered by Hamas.
Yet, it turns out that in the midst of his own suffering, Hersh helped others survive. When some of the hostages thankfully were freed, they shared with Jon and Rachel that it was Hersh who gave them strength in captivity, drawing from the wisdom of Viktor Frankl: If you have a why, you can find your way. Even in the darkest moments, he reminded them that meaning gives us the power to endure.
Jon and Rachel have endured unthinkable loss, yet they continue to fight for justice and to repair what is broken in the world. I know that you, too, are fighting for good, and that this work is not easy. That is why I wanted to share this book with you—as a small token of encouragement and a reminder that resilience is not just about enduring hardship, but about finding meaning in the fight for a better future.
Thank you again for your courage, your service, and your commitment to building a stronger, more resilient Maryland for all of us.
Dear Delegate –
I know you hear from me often about climate and other issues in Maryland. However, I want to take a moment to express my deepest gratitude for your leadership during these challenging times. Your dedication to serving the people of Maryland with integrity and resilience has made a real difference, and I know I am not alone in my appreciation.
Jon and Rachel, for their part, are far from finished. As Jon said onstage in Nashville:
“We are going to be in this fight first and foremost for the remaining 59 hostages, and then continue once we bring them all home to give all of us a better, more vibrant Israel and a more vibrant democratic Jewish life.”
Rachel, too, reminded us of what Judaism demands of us:
“We still believe that hope is necessary. That’s not advice, it’s not suggestive, it’s mandatory. But hope is not enough. In the Mishnah, we are commanded to pursue better… Judaism is a lot of things — it’s not easy. And that’s fine. I’m proud of that. Hard is not bad, it’s simply hard.”
As a Jewish woman who works in the trenches of policy and activism, I take her words seriously. We can’t just hope the world will change—we must act, with resolve and with a “why” that keeps us going. That “why” might be a child, a cause, a tradition, a future we want to protect. But without it, we risk growing numb to injustice and frozen in the face of pain.
To the Maryland leaders who received that letter: I see your struggle. I know the budget gaps are real, that federal instability is hitting us hard, and that the climate challenges keep multiplying. But you are not alone. And your work matters.
To the broader Jewish community and beyond: Hersh’s memory is a blessing, but more than that, his life is a call to action. We can all be sources of strength. We can all find meaning and help others find theirs. We can all, in our own ways, help bring about a better world—if we start by remembering our why.