Leading from the head

Rosh Hashanah: the Jewish New Year. At least, that’s what we call it.

But, as anyone with a smattering of Hebrew knows, Rosh Hashanah doesn’t actually mean “New Year.” It means head (“rosh”) of the year (“shana”).

It’s an odd turn of phrase. Hebrew has perfectly serviceable words for “start” or “beginning” or “new.” The Torah itself refers to this day differently: “Yom Teruah,” the Day of Blowing. In fact, it was the ancient rabbis who named this holiday Rosh Hashanah (and actually, it’s one of four such days on the Jewish calendar). Why?

There’s a traditional Hebrew blessing we say this time of year that offers a clue: She’nihiyeh l’rosh v’lo l’zanav  — “May we be the head, and not the tail”. It’s sometimes accompanied by a fish or sheep’s head (my kids, naturally, opt for fish-shaped gummies).

The phrase originates in Deuteronomy (28:13), where Moses promises the Israelites: “And God will place you as the head and not the tail; you will only be above and not below, if you follow the commandments…”

At first glance, it sounds like a simple blessing of success. May you be first, not last. On top, not on the bottom. But the verse already says you will be above and not below. Why the redundancy?

Because to be the head is not merely to be first. It is to lead.

The head contains the eyes, the ears, the mouth, and the mind. It thinks, feels, perceives, processes, decides.

The tail does none of those things. And unlike the torso, arms, or legs, the tail does not even get to determine where the body goes. It just follows. It is dragged along.

The blessing isn’t about being “better.” It’s about being a leader.

It’s a call to agency: Be the kind of person who thinks, who initiates, and moves through action rather than inertia. A person of influence—who shapes the world around them rather than being shaped by it.

Fittingly, Pirkei Avot (4:15) teaches, “Be the tail of lions; and not the head of foxes.” Better to follow the right people than to lead the wrong people. Better to be dragged along the path of the just than to take the wheel of a runaway train.

In that light, “Rosh” Hashanah is not simply when the year starts—it is how the year should start.

As head of the year, the day calls us to step into leadership—in our own lives, in our families, in our communities, and in our world. To live with an intentionality, principle and purpose that isn’t outsourced—and to influence others to do the same.

In today’s campus climate, the challenge of influence is more than theoretical. Jewish students are navigating a complex and polarizing environment. The public narrative tends to frame the situation as a binary: those who love us and those who hate us. But that’s not quite accurate. The real landscape is more like 10–80–10.

There’s about 5-10% of people deeply engaged on either side, and, 80-90% who aren’t paying attention. The vast majority of students, including Jewish students, are neither activists nor ideologues. They just want to stay sane, graduate, and get a job—if they’re lucky. They are distracted, undecided, ambivalent. And deeply influenceable.

This 80% could be pulled in either direction depending on which voices reach them first, and which seem more consistent, more confident, or more compelling.

In this framework, they’re the tails. And they will follow whoever leads most effectively.

Which is precisely the reason that now is the time to invest in young, principled Jewish leadership, not just defensive advocacy.

In my campus work with JGO, my goal is to empower Jewish graduate students to be the roshim, the heads—principled, visible, values-driven leaders who can reach and shape that 80%.

Earlier this week, we brought nearly 200 of our most promising student leaders to Washington, D.C. for our annual Miller Family Partners Summit—the largest national gathering of Jewish grad students in the country. They came from campuses across North America for two days of leadership training, advocacy, Jewish learning, and community-building. They met with lawmakers. They learned from experts. They challenged and inspired one another.

And they left ready to lead.

In this world that’s hard to make heads or tails of, Rosh Hashanah challenges us to envision the year ahead. Will we plan, or simply react? Will we speak up, or wait to be told? Will we set the agenda, or drift along with the status quo?

From the two days I just spent with our grad students, I know which future I’m betting on. Our young people are already leading. They are the heads who will shape the year to come, and the Jewish future beyond it.

May we follow their example, and support them as they chart the path ahead. Shana tova u’metuka.