One Year Later: How Are We Remembering Sarah and Yaron?
May 21 marked one year since Sarah Milgrim z”l and Yaron Lischinsky z”l were gunned down outside the Capital Jewish Museum.
These two young peace builders were murdered after an evening dedicated to dialogue, cooperation, and shared humanity. Their loss continues to reverberate through our community, not only in grief, but in the determination their memory now demands of us. The response to hatred cannot be withdrawal. To honor Sarah and Yaron, we must continue building visible, vibrant Jewish life, not despite fear, but in defiance of it.
In fiscal year 2026, the Greater Washington Jewish community has spent $12.8 million on security.
And still, it is not enough.
Security is no longer a line item. It is a defining feature of Jewish communal life. From Boulder to Bondi Beach to West Bloomfield, Jews have been forced to consider safety every time they engage with Jewish life. And yet, despite that reality, Jewish communities continue to gather, celebrate, educate, and contribute openly to civic life. We refuse to accept the idea that the only safe Jew is an invisible one.
Synagogues, schools, and agencies across our region have increased their security budgets yet again, many by double digits. Some institutions have had to make painful tradeoffs, diverting resources away from programming, education, and direct services to cover guards, cameras, access controls, and emergency preparedness.
JShield, The Jewish Federation of Greater Washington’s community security initiative, has expanded its reach over the past year, providing more training, more assessments, and more coordination with law enforcement than ever before. It has helped cultivate a culture of vigilance and preparedness across our institutions, working with more than 130 organizations across our community in the past year.
But preparedness has limits.
You cannot train your way out of hatred. You cannot camera your way out of extremism.
The burden we carry today is not only financial, but also existential. Leaders who once focused primarily on growth, engagement, and community now spend an increasing share of their time on threat mitigation, security protocols, and crisis planning. Parents ask different questions before enrolling their children. Community members scan entrances before they step inside.
Jewish communal spaces have long carried the burden of security concerns; the need for protection is not new. But moments like this deepen an already pervasive sense of fear and vulnerability. Despite longstanding precautions, many question whether any amount of security is enough.
This is not the Jewish future Sarah and Yaron envisioned. Where others saw divisions, obstacles, and roadblocks, Sarah and Yaron saw an opportunity to build bridges and make lasting connections. They believed Jewish life should be lived proudly, publicly, and in relationship with others, not hidden behind fear.
Because of that, we refuse to let fear define us.
Our institutions continue to serve the vulnerable, strengthen civic life, and foster connection across lines of difference. We continue to show up, proudly and visibly, as Jews in the nation’s capital.
But we cannot do this alone.
The past year has made one thing unmistakably clear: security measures, no matter how robust, are only part of the solution. The deeper challenge is the normalization of antisemitism and the persistence of violent extremism in our society.
Silence in the face of that reality is not neutral, it is enabling.
We need sustained, unequivocal leadership from elected officials, civic institutions, faith communities, and educators. Condemnation of antisemitism must be consistent, not situational. It must be backed by action, education, and accountability. This is a challenge that American leaders and society must take on.
If Jewish institutions in Washington, DC—steps away from the symbols of American democracy—require this level of protection, it raises urgent questions about the trajectory of safety and pluralism in our country.
A year later, the grief remains. So does the resolve.
We will continue to invest in security because we must. But we will also continue to invest in the values that define us: community, compassion, and connection.
To honor Sarah and Yaron’s memory, we will not retreat from public life. We will not dim our presence. And we will not accept a reality in which building Jewish life requires living in fear.
