What 34 Countries Taught Me about Educating for a Jewish Future
Key takeaways from the inaugural Global Jewish Educators Summit in Jerusalem
This week, Jewish educators from 34 countries gathered in Jerusalem for the first-ever Global Jewish Educators Summit. We came from elementary schools, high schools and beyond, from large communities and small ones, from school systems that look almost nothing alike.
And within the first hour, it was clear we had all packed the same question.
What does it actually mean to educate a child well?
Not “raise test scores.” Not “get them into a good college.” Those matter. But nobody crosses an ocean for four days to talk about test scores.
Here are my personal takeaways
“The whole child” is not a slogan.
On paper, the sessions seemed to cover entirely different territory: tefillah (prayer) as a way to deepen connection, teaching Israel literacy, the role of Israeli music after October 7, funding dilemmas, the potential of AI, the partnership between home and school.
But in reality, it was one argument. Intellectual development, emotional growth, spiritual life, and a sense of belonging cannot be taught in separate boxes, because students do not live in separate boxes.
The session on Israeli music after October 7 made this vivid. Culture is how a people expresses grief, resilience, and hope, often before it has words for them. Students who engage with that are learning something no textbook unit can hand them.
The tension between the individual and community is the point.
The session “The Individual, Community and the Role of the Educator” named the tension every teacher feels. Each student is an individual, with distinct talents, needs, and aspirations. Each student is also part of something much larger.
How do we nurture individual potential while cultivating responsibility to others? How do we help young people find their own voices while connecting them to Jewish tradition, community and peoplehood?
What struck me was that no one tried to resolve it. The strongest educators in the room didn’t choose between the two. They were holding both, on purpose.
Parents are not the audience. They are partners.
Education does not happen in isolation. Parents and educators bring different perspectives, but both want the same thing: young people who flourish.
I was so glad that this was a dedicated session because I see its importance every single day. I see how much that partnership matters, especially when students begin making major decisions about their futures. Which is, of course, exactly when it tends to get thinnest.
Jerusalem was not just the location; it was part of the program.
You can discuss Israel literacy in a hotel ballroom anywhere in the world. In Jerusalem, you walk outside and the subject matter is waiting for you. A day of trips took us beyond the conference room, and the city did what it always does: it connected Jewish history to Jewish destiny without anyone needing to make a speech about it. The organizers at UnitEd reminded all of us that this is our center as a people, and therefore where it made most sense for us to gather.
Jewish education is not only about transmitting information or preparing students for professional success. It is about building a people and helping each generation understand its place in an ongoing story. Jerusalem makes that argument better than any of us can.
Why this mattered to me
I have taught in both American and Israeli classrooms, and I am raising children in Israel. At The Future Is Calling, an initiative of the Tzemach David Educational Foundation, I manage our university relations and liaise with guidance counselors and students/parents throughout the United States.
We help American Jewish students and their families explore higher education in Israel, working with students, parents, guidance counselors and Israeli universities to make those options accessible and to answer the academic, financial and practical questions that come with them.
So I spend a lot of time standing at the seam between the two systems, and between the two conversations families have about the future.
Sitting in those sessions, I kept thinking about the year a student decides where to go after high school.
Day schools spend twelve or more years building Jewish literacy, Hebrew, connection to Israel and a sense of belonging to the Jewish people. Then comes the college process, and all of that becomes background. Israel is something you visit, or a year you take before “real” college begins.
Everything the Summit described, educating the whole child, holding the individual and the community together, partnering with families, lands on that decision.
Our work is to make sure students and families can see the full picture. The years after high school are formative. Young adults are building independence, clarifying their values and imagining the contribution they want to make. Studying in Israel can be an academic choice and also a chance to grow into the kind of adult, and the kind of Jew, those twelve years were preparing them to become.
And just as the Summit stressed partnership between schools and families, this decision needs everyone at the table: educators, students, parents, counselors and universities. The earlier the conversation begins, the more possibilities a student can imagine, including ones they never considered.
What comes next
The Future Is Calling was honored to be part of this inaugural gathering, and I left with new colleagues, new questions, and a renewed sense that educators across very different settings are working on the same project.
Today’s students are tomorrow’s educators, professionals, community leaders, parents and builders of Jewish life. We spent four days asking what it means to educate them well.
Part of the answer is making sure that education does not end at graduation.
The future of the Jewish people does not just happen. We build it, one student, one family, one decision at a time.
