The last time I walked into the General Assembly of the Jewish Federations of North America, it was in Tel Aviv in 2023, a conference so weighed down by division that you could feel it the moment you entered the room. Back then, the gap between American Jews and Israelis had reached what felt like a breaking point.
The debate over Israel’s judicial reform was tearing the Jewish community apart. From opposite sides of the Atlantic, it felt like we were speaking different languages, our concerns and priorities on completely different planes. But here, in Washington, DC, just a year-and-a-half later, the atmosphere was charged with something new. You could sense it in the air — this year, they weren’t divided by ideology or identity. They were bonded, galvanized by a shared purpose and the shared trauma of what happened on October 7.
That day changed everything, and it didn’t just close the ideological chasm; it erased it. Suddenly, the “why” of supporting Israel, the “why” of preserving Jewish identity, the “why” of being Jewish wasn’t up for debate. Now, the mission was clear to everyone in the room: they were no longer debating what needed to be done — the participants were consumed by the question of how to do it.
Washington, DC, gave us autumn leaves and a brisk chill that seemed to mirror the tone of this year’s GA — sober, urgent, but profoundly determined. Gone was the usual back-and-forth over ideological nuances. Instead, everyone was focused, with eyes fixed not on abstract questions but on practical answers. The tone was set right from the start: it wasn’t about debating support for Israel; it was about making sure they knew how to do it well, sustainably, and effectively in the face of a world that, now more than ever, seems eager to challenge us at every turn.
One of the speakers who captured this transformation perfectly was formerly Meta COO Sheryl Sandberg. She walked onstage looking every bit the accomplished business leader she is but spoke like someone who had rediscovered her own roots. She didn’t just talk about Jewish identity as a part of who she was — she owned it, saying, “Jewish identity is now as important a part of my identity as anything else.”
Flipping the switch
There was a shift in her that many of us could relate to, a feeling that the events of October 7 had flipped a switch within, prioritizing Jewish identity in ways that hadn’t been fully realized before. “I am female, I am a business leader, I am an American, and I am a Jew — and I stand here as a proud Zionist and a proud Jew, in a way I wouldn’t have a year and a half ago.” In that moment, she wasn’t just speaking for herself; she was speaking for an entire generation of Jews who are now stepping into their heritage with newfound pride and urgency.
For decades, the GA had been a space for ideological clashes, where debates about Israel’s policies or visions of Jewish identity would sometimes leave more questions than answers. But this year, that atmosphere of division had vanished. Instead of arguments, there was consensus. Instead of questioning, there was action. Panels and discussions zeroed in on the logistics of how to amplify Jewish voices, how to address the rampant antisemitism, and how to build safe, strong Jewish communities in the face of rising hostility. It was practical, it was direct, and it was exactly what was needed.
One of the most concrete results of this new spirit was the quiet launch of Aleph Bet, a groundbreaking initiative focused on making Jewish day schools more affordable and accessible. The Israeli government, JFNA, and other major foundations have come together to tackle the pressing issue of Jewish education, not just by discussing its importance but by putting resources behind it. Aleph Bet is a bold step toward removing financial barriers, aiming to strengthen the infrastructure of Jewish day schools at a time when interest in Jewish education is surging, particularly after the attacks in Israel. This isn’t just about sustaining Jewish life; it’s about giving Jewish families the tools they need to engage with their identity meaningfully without the heavy burden of cost.
Eric Fingerhut, the CEO of JFNA, captured the urgency in his address, invoking Veterans Day to draw a parallel between the enduring sacrifices made by those in uniform and the commitment needed to sustain Jewish communities worldwide. “When hateful attacks occur… it is an assault on all of us,” Fingerhut declared, his voice filled with the kind of gravitas that only comes from lived experience. He noted that this isn’t a momentary crisis but a sustained period of challenge, a reality the community needs to be prepared to face for the long haul. “Close your ears to no one,” he urged, emphasizing the need to listen and learn from every voice in the community. This was not just a rallying cry; it was a reminder that the work ahead is not for the faint-hearted. We’re in this together, and the responsibility is shared.
Bari Weiss, journalist and founder of The Free Press, drove this point home with her usual eloquence and fire. “History is back, and the old normal isn’t returning,” she told the audience, a mix of Change Makers fellows and delegates from across North America. “If it feels like the end, that’s because all beginnings do.” She warned against complacency, emphasizing that this new reality isn’t something we can just hope will improve on its own. “We bend the arc of history; it doesn’t bend on its own.” Her words were both a challenge and a reassurance, reminding us that while the path forward is daunting, it’s one we have the strength to shape.
As the days went on, it became clear that the entire assembly was operating with a new sense of purpose. Instead of theoretical debates, they had concrete action plans. Instead of leaving with vague intentions, we left with specific strategies. This was no longer a conference — it was a command center, a strategy session to fortify the future of Jewish life worldwide. The community’s focus had sharpened, the resolve had deepened, and the energy had transformed.
Then came Gary Torgow’s closing remarks, and he left us with words that seemed to echo long after he left the stage. Torgow, co-chair of the 2024 General Assembly, is more than a speaker – he’s a seasoned leader with roots deep in Jewish philanthropy and a passion for community resilience. His address was part charge, part benediction, and as he spoke, it felt as if he was offering the participants a kind of map for what lies ahead.
“Each of us hail from our local 146 Federation strong,” he began, “but more and more we recognize that we must be nothing less than a unified and cohesive collective.” Torgow detailed the reality that Jewish communities across North America are inextricably linked. “It is our promise to one another to never despair, to continue to stand together, one people with one heart.” These weren’t just words; they were a mission statement, a call to remember that our strength lies in our unity.
Torgow went on to invoke the legacy of Abraham and Sarah, who opened their tent to all, welcoming everyone with warmth and kindness. In his retelling, this story felt like a blueprint for the Jewish world today. “How beautiful are the communities you have built,” he praised, acknowledging the effort it takes to nurture a resilient, inclusive community. He reminded us that our work isn’t just about self-preservation but about embodying values that transcend time and place.
In his final blessing, Torgow captured the spirit of the assembly, saying, “We each did our part. We made a difference. We did not shirk our responsibility, and we did it together as one person with one heart.” As I listened, I couldn’t help but feel the gravity of those words. We had come to Washington, DC, not just as individuals but as a collective, driven by a shared purpose, fortified by our heritage, and committed to a future that, while uncertain, was undeniably ours to shape.
And with that, we left the GA not just as delegates but as carriers of a mission — to take the “how” of everything we had discussed and bring it to life in our communities, to transform our intentions into actions, and to build, as Torgow so beautifully put it, a Jewish world that stands together, as one person with one heart.