Time for a change
Time for a Change: Prioritizing the Next Generation of Diaspora Jews
“If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results,” as Einstein once said, then I ask this: how do we know when we’re already there? What is the step just before insanity—where we still tell ourselves, “This time will be different?”
I believe we’re in that moment now.
For decades, diaspora Jews have poured time, energy, and billions of dollars into the same institutions, the same frameworks, and the same messaging—yet here we are. Jewish students are harassed, assaulted, and silenced on college campuses from coast to coast. Jewish couples are gunned down in broad daylight. Hostages, including children, remain hidden in tunnels for nearly two years with little international outcry.
And what have we done? We’ve clapped for high-dollar speakers at galas. We’ve hosted photo ops of volunteers in Israel. We’ve issued strongly worded statements. And yes, we’ve held hands and lit candles.
These things aren’t meaningless, but they are insufficient.
What happens to those on the ground—those navigating real-world danger and trauma? Where is the money and influence when a Jewish college student is publicly doxxed, denied access to safe campus spaces, or physically attacked for wearing a Magen David necklace? Where is the support when Jewish students are told to hide their identities to get good grades or be socially accepted?
It is time—past time—for a massive shift in Jewish organizational priorities. We must stop pretending that if we just keep doing what we’ve always done, something different will happen. It won’t.
October 7 was a wake-up call for many, but for those of us who have been screaming about this for years, it simply confirmed what we already knew: our kids are not safe, and they are not being prioritized. The future of Jewish identity in the diaspora is under direct assault—not just from outside forces, but from within, due to stagnation, denial, and internal resistance to change.
Big Jewish organizations, many of which were founded in the aftermath of the Holocaust or the birth of the State of Israel, have accomplished incredible things. But they are no longer nimble enough to confront today’s challenges alone. Many refuse to adapt or bring in fresh voices. Many continue to operate as if we’re still fighting the battles of the 20th century. Meanwhile, our young people are being pushed to the fringes—and not just by antisemites, but by the very institutions that are supposed to protect them.
We must recognize this hard truth: if Jewish students do not see their own community standing with them during the hardest times of their lives, why would they want to remain part of that community after graduation?
We are losing them. And not just physically—we are losing their spirit, their pride, their sense of belonging.
The good news? This crisis can be turned around. But only if we act now, boldly and together.
We need new organizations with fresh leadership and a laser focus on Jewish youth and students. We need grassroots efforts that aren’t beholden to legacy donors or outdated models of operation. We need boots on the ground on college campuses—real advocates who are present, passionate, and unafraid to push back against antisemitism, whether it comes from fellow students, professors, or administrators.
But we also need partnership.
This is not about replacing the big Jewish organizations. It is about forcing an evolution—one where new voices are welcomed, collaboration is encouraged, and the focus shifts to where it matters most: the front lines.
It’s time for organizations—new and old—to work hand-in-hand to protect the next generation. It’s time to ask hard questions: Where is our money going? What is our return on investment? How are we measuring impact? Who are we centering in our conversations?
It is no longer enough to host a luncheon or post a hashtag. Our students need real resources, real support, and real advocates who will show up every single day.
We must make the Jewish future our greatest priority. That starts with showing young Jews that their lives, their safety, their voices, and their identities are worth fighting for—not just in statements, but in action.
Change is not just necessary. It is urgent. It is overdue.
And it starts now.
