What a Difference a Year Makes on Campus

This time last year, we stood on edge. An encampment had settled for nearly two weeks into the center of campus, its chants and signage echoing a narrow and often exclusionary narrative about Israel and Zionism. Many Jewish students felt unsafe and unwelcome on their way to study in the library for finals. There were threats of protests during graduation, and many of our students debated whether to even attend. Fear, confusion, and isolation were all too present.

What a difference a year makes.

This year at the University of Vermont, the campus once again engaged in questions of Israel and Palestine — but this time through dialogue, scholarship, and academic inquiry. Rather than shouting past one another, students and faculty came together to think deeply, listen curiously, and ask hard questions. Instead of protests designed to silence, we saw programs designed to expand understanding. Instead of posting statements online, we listened, we convened, we learned, and we adapted.

The university hosted a symposium on Israel/Palestine this fall after a listening session last year where students said they wanted a chance to intellectually engage with these serious issues. It was an ambitious and important initiative rooted in history, nuance, and learning and the first of its kind at UVM. While it hit the mark in some respects and missed it in others, the important thing to note is that this university was trying and it was doing so publicly. Renowned Harvard historian Derrick Penslar spoke about Zionism not as a monolithic idea, but as an evolving idea shaped by the Jewish people’s search for safety, self-determination, and moral responsibility. Earlier this spring Peter Beinart met with students to discuss “Life After Gaza,” engaging in a thoughtful conversation about the human cost of war, the future of the region, and the weight of hope. Students of differing ideologies met, talked, and engaged in a conversation that was open and honest and would have been nearly impossible under the polemic debates of last year.

These events didn’t ignore the pain or the politics; they embraced them. They modeled what it looks like when a university lives up to its promise: to teach, to challenge, and to care by providing access to opportunities to learn. While it may have been federally compelled through the Title VI investigation and resolution, UVM was acting to improve campus climate by upholding their policies to prohibit antisemitism, anti-Arab, and anti-Asian bias and harrassment.

We at UVM Hillel have seen the shift firsthand. Jewish student participation has grown significantly from last year’s lows to more than 1,500 meaningful student interactions this year. Students are hungry for spaces where they can be both intellectually curious and spiritually grounded where they can celebrate Shabbat with friends one night and study ancient Jewish texts on protest, God, and artificial intelligence the next, all while sharing good Vermont food together.

This past year, our team took bold steps to meet students where they are: off-campus dinners with Hillel Fresh, on-campus celebrations from Purim to Pride, Skinny Pancake Shabbat, Camel’s Hump hikes, and new Jewish learning fellowships that foster conversation rather than confrontation. These aren’t just programs. They’re invitations to belong and engage.

This weekend, when UVM students walk across the stage at graduation, many will be proudly wearing blue and white cords from Hillel — a symbol of their Jewish identity, resilience, and connection to one another. There are no calls to hide, no whispers of fear. There is pride. There is joy. There is community.

We also introduced a new honor this year: the Patricia A. Prelock Ally to the Jewish People Award, named for UVM’s outgoing interim President, a steadfast partner who has consistently shown up for Jewish students with empathy, courage, and action. This award recognizes university leaders who listen, who learn, and who lead with integrity. It’s a reminder that allyship isn’t performative, it’s personal and it makes a difference.

There is still so much work to be done. The forces that seek to divide us remain real and recalibrating. But this year proved something powerful: that change is possible. That healing can happen. That dialogue can replace dismissal, and scholarship can replace slogans on our campus.

Looking ahead, I hope UVM continues to lead not only in addressing antisemitism, but in uplifting all marginalized communities through compassion, education, and accountability through policy. I hope we keep building spaces where complexity is welcomed, and where no student has to choose between who they are and where they learn.

A year ago, we were bracing for impact. Today, we are building momentum.

What a difference a year makes.