The original article is published at chabad.org

Amid rising antisemitism on American college campuses, Swidler brothers unite in their faith

For Nathan and Asher Swidler, two brothers on the Brown University heavyweight rowing crew team, their strong and always evolving relationship with Chabad-Lubavitch began with the installation of a mezuzah on a cold day in Providence, R.I., in the middle of the pandemic.

Nathan (“Nate”), 23, and Asher (“Ash”), 22, are just 14 months apart in age and grew up in London to American parents. Having been raised with a strong sense of Jewish identity, upon completing high school, both boys spent a gap year in Israel.

Nate has been rowing since the age of 15, when he picked up the sport during his school days at Eton, a prestigious boarding school in England. When choosing which college to attend, he decided on Brown, as it is one of the top rowing teams in the country, while also being well known for its rigorous Ivy League education. Ash was a rare “walk on” to the crew team, which he joined during his junior year.

And Nate’s not just another rower. His memorable rowing moments include winning the Henley Royal Regatta in 2019, beating Harvard last year in the dual race and rowing in the pair competition with his brother.

Their family’s connection to Chabad goes back generations. The boys’ father, Josh, recalls his mother teaching in the Chabad yeshivah day school in Worcester, Mass., which was led for more than seven decades by Rabbi Hershel Fogelman. Though at the time the family identified as Reform, this connection eventually led them to keeping a kosher home.

Another link in the chain was added when the Swidler boys arrived on Brown’s campus in January 2021.

“We both knew we wanted mezuzahs on our doorpost,” Ash told Chabad.org.

Nate told a friend from London who was active in Chabad at Columbia University, who in turn reached out to Rabbi Mendel and Chana Laufer, co-directors of the Rohr Chabad House serving Brown University, Rhode Island School of Design (RISD) and Johnson & Wales University, all of them in Providence.

In 2021, the day after their mandatory “two-week quarantine” arrival period ended, the rabbi greeted the boys outside the dormitories with a warm smile and open arms. Credit: Chabad of College Hill

The First of Many Meetings

This was back in the Covid days, and the day after their mandatory “two-week quarantine” arrival period ended, the rabbi greeted the boys outside the dormitories with a warm smile and open arms—at the time, he was not allowed inside due to pandemic regulations—and handed them each a mezuzah, a homemade challah and cards with the Shema prayer.

The relationship between the two British expats and the Laufers grew as the weeks went on.

“Nate’s and my initial interaction with the rabbi swiftly led to weekly meetings,” Ash said. “We would sit outside in the freezing cold January winter for hours. For me, Rabbi Mendel’s conversations evoked an element of authenticity that I found to be lacking in conversations with hundreds of fellow students.”

Ash, who is the current student president of Chabad at Brown, proudly chronicles its growth since he started there.

“Today we have over a hundred students coming on a regular Friday night,” he said.

There is a kosher kitchen in the largest dining hall at Brown, and this year dozens of students affixed a mezuzah to their doorposts courtesy of Chabad.

Eventually, the boys committed to putting on tefillin regularly. Rabbi Laufer, sensing the opportunity for a meaningful birthday gift, reached out to Ash’s father, Josh, to organize Ash to receive his own pair for his 22nd birthday.

“Following the passing of my wife, Ash found significant meaning and comfort in Torah study, something I am both proud of and encouraged with my whole heart,” Josh Swidler explained. “If I can play even the smallest part in enhancing Jewish identity and meaning for my children, I will do it.”

Nate participates in weekly Sinai Scholars classes and has managed to attend Shabbat dinners nearly every week of his senior year. The Swidlers devotion to Chabad and Jewish life on campus is even more noteworthy considering the demands made on college athletes.

After resolving to put on tefillin regularly, Ash received a pair of his own from Rabbi Mendel Laufer for his 22nd birthday. Credit: Swidler family

Standing up for Israel at an Ivy League

In the wake of the Oct. 7 terrorist attacks and what they describe as the “worryingly hostile climate for Jews” across college campuses, the brothers knew they had to do something.

“We felt desperate to champion the cause in a way we knew how, to spread positivity both on and off the water,” said Nate. So they came up with an idea that would literally make the Jewish people’s connection to their ancient homeland “in fashion” on and around campus—and on the water.

Nate and Ash designed a unisuit with the Star of David on the front and “Am Yisrael Chai” written on the back. The outfit made it easy for fellow rowers and classmates to see their support for the Land of Israel and its people.

They assumed that the project would receive mixed support from the rowing team, so they polled each member individually to see if they would consider wearing the uni. “Thirty of fifty said they wanted one—it warmed our hearts!,” said Ash.

Brooke Verschleiser, a student at Brown, is proud of the Swidlers and their enthusiasm to wear their Jewish identity on their sleeves.

“Seeing Ash and Nate stand up for Israel in the midst of adversity on campus is truly inspiring,” she said. “Their fortitude in defending Israel … is a powerful example for other students to advocate for the truth and stand up for what they believe in.”

Ash credits a fair share of their initiative to Rabbi Laufer.

“Rabbi Laufer is the smartest guy I know,” he said. “He is a source of support and a builder, creating a home where even the university president feels comfortable and welcome.”

Ash and other students appreciate Brown President Christina Paxson’s support for Chabad, where she is a familiar face. Laufer notes that she was sharing Shabbat dinner at Chabad on the same day other Ivy League college presidents were testifying about antisemitism on campus in Washington, D.C.

Chabad at Brown likewise receives the highest compliments of Joshua Bolton, the executive director of Brown/RISD Hillel.

“There really is no example like Brown, where Hillel and Chabad are working as closely together on behalf of the Jewish future,” he said. “There’s a story I’ve heard about the Rebbe [Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory] hopping a fence. Mendel and Chani are the ultimate fence-hoppers. Nothing stands in their way. Nothing can prevent their holy work.”

The Swidlers devotion to Chabad and Jewish life on campus is even more noteworthy considering the demands made on college athletes. Credit: Chabad of College Hill

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The original article is published at JPost.com

The London-born Rabbi Joe Wolfson has a reputation for quickly becoming an active and important force in whichever city in the world he chooses to call home.

Rabbi Joe Wolfson loves cities and has spent large chunks of time in London, New York, and Tel Aviv.

Fortunately for many people in Israel – especially in the days and weeks after Oct. 7 – the energetic, likable, and very resourceful 38-year-old, along with his wife, Corinne, and children, Mika, eight, Tal, six, and Barak, one, has chosen to make Tel Aviv their home since making aliyah.

The London-born Wolfson has a reputation for quickly becoming an active and important force in whichever city in the world he chooses to call home. He arrives, observes the scene, assesses communal needs, recruits partners, and works tirelessly to serve those in need. 

Wolfson’s “official” jobs in Israel include serving as director of the Amital Center for Jewish Study and Leadership at Har Etzion; and working as co-director (with Corinne) and rabbi of JLIC TLV, a community of young olim in their 20s and 30s.

JLIC, short for Jewish Learning Initiative on Campus, is an affiliate of the Orthodox Union and primarily serves students on American college campuses. In recent years, JLIC has expanded its activities to serve university students on Israeli campuses, as well as young adults in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. 

RABBI JOE and the JLIC TLV community members bring an ice cream truck to evacuees in Tel Aviv hotels. (credit: Karen-Lynn Lang)

Rabbi Joe and Corinne serve as a community rabbinic team, opening their home for Shabbat meals, study (in their home, and with upwards of 60 people at a local synagogue on Monday nights), and general support of recent olim. Rabbi Joe also records drashot (Torah teaching videos) while riding his bike. 

The Wolfsons’ unofficial roles extend well beyond serving the needs of young English-speaking olim. 

During Operation Swords of Iron, the vibrant JLIC TLV community has mobilized and become involved in many aspects of the emergency response effort.

Since Oct. 7, the Wolfsons have raised over $300,000 to provide accommodations, food, and childcare for 300+ families in Tel Aviv. They organized large events such as an ice cream truck for 800 evacuated children, launched a Family Match Program (to match displaced families with individuals from the JLIC community), and coordinated a Job Placement Program to help displaced people find temporary work. This is in addition to the meals, clothing, and medical supplies the team delivers for soldiers weekly throughout Israel. 

“I feel privileged to lead a young community. I see my role as a shadchan [connector] of people who want to help and those who need the help,” he says. 

In many ways, the Wolfsons’ previous stint – as an OU-JLIC rabbinic couple at New York University’s Bronfman Center for Jewish Life in New York (2015-2022) – helped them develop the tools and grit they would need in their work in Tel Aviv.

“We were fascinated and in love with Lower Manhattan – we fell for New York hook, line, and sinker,” reports Wolfson. “We loved everything – the energy, glamour, grime, hustle, swagger, and the history.”

They also quickly began to serve the community. “I really believe in neighborhoods and cities,” Wolfson says. “There is something ethically important about cities; being close to neighbors and having different sorts of neighbors are important.” 

Wolfson got to know his downtown Manhattan neighborhood, including its rich history. “I have an entire bookshelf dedicated to the Lower East Side,” he says. Wolfson began offering tours, such as Gangsters & Gedolim tours, and the Jewish Eats culinary-social experience.

He also got to know the needs of the community. “We did lots of hessed [acts of kindness]. We learned in New York how to mobilize young Jewish people to be involved and attentive to the needs of others.” 

They initially focused on the homeless. “At Purim time, we used matanot l’evyonim [giving gifts to the poor] as the central entry point.” He describes people giving money for materials which were used to buy things for people at the Bowery Mission, a program providing meals, shelter, and residential programs for people experiencing homelessness. 

The commitment of the JLIC community at NYU to the neighborhood extended to those impacted by COVID. On short notice, community members kashered for Passover the Jacob Javitz Center, which was being used as a field hospital. They distributed thousands of meals to those in need and facilitated the vaccination of over 800 people in the early days of the vaccine roll-out. 

The Wolfsons’ focus on helping others was part of their larger goal. “We aspired to create a community in and of downtown Manhattan – to endow people with a sense of place and significance. We were trying to be a bit counter-cultural and disruptive – to create a model to power the Jewish future.” 

They strongly believe in the Jewish concept of mitzvah goreret mitzvah – one good deed leads to another. Wolfson was recognized as one of the New York Jewish Week’s “36 Under 36” in 2020 for his COVID relief work.

Making Aliyah

AFTER SEVEN years in New York – with the kids getting older – the Wolfsons realized it was “time for our next challenge.” They knew it was time to return to Israel, where Rabbi Joe and Corinne had strong connections and had spent significant time. 

Wolfson, who was active in Bnei Akiva while growing up in London before studying political philosophy at the University of Cambridge and receiving a master’s degree at University College London, studied at Yeshivat Har Etzion and Beit Morasha. He also received smicha from Israel’s Chief Rabbinate.

Corinne grew up in Leicester, studied art history at the University of Leeds and at the Courtauld Institute of Art, studied at Nishmat and Matan, and trained as a chef at Tadmor in Herzliya. She has worked in various restaurants in Israel. Her family’s ties to Israel run very deep: Her mother volunteered in Israel in 1967, made aliyah in 1968, and married a man whose family had been living in Tel Aviv since the 1920s. 

Prior to the current war, Wolfson was experiencing what so many Israelis were also experiencing. “It was a profoundly alienating year for olim – watching Israeli society tearing itself apart was hard.” Through his nonstop work with and for the community, he no longer feels alienated. “That has changed. This is our place!”

Despite Wolfson’s frenetic pace doing so much for so many, he is able to step back and reflect on his family’s aliyah experience. He acknowledges the difficulties: “People are stressed and can be quick to get angry on the streets – and the lack of Sundays can be hard.” He also notes that, as opposed to the Diaspora, “people make assumptions about your political views based on [your] wearing a kippah.”

Wolfson was pleased to find that the bureaucracy of making aliyah “was fine” and “has improved.” He is happy to report that his children have adjusted well to life in Israel, though he notes, “The war has been hard,” especially for older children who are able to read the writing on the hostage posters and can articulate fears of being kidnapped. 

Wolfson notes that making aliyah for 20- and 30-somethings can present particular challenges, given that people may have no family in Israel and may not have served in the army or have the support networks that other Israelis do.

He encourages olim to “find a good community – people who can support you and [with whom] you can grow together. A good community is essential.” 

The Wolfsons are there to help! ■

Rabbi Joe Wolfson, 38From Manhattan to Tel Aviv, 2022

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The original article is published at JPost.com

After wearing a kippah almost nonstop for decades, I have decided in the wake of October 7 to not walk outside in America wearing a kippah.

As part of my 40-year-plus career as a Jewish camping professional, I have gotten to spend dozens of summers at Ramah camps. There are many pluses – beautiful Shabbatot, having my own children in camp, tennis courts 50 feet from my bunk ,and not having to cook all summer are just a few of the reasons. 

Having to visit my physician each year and explain why I need him to complete and sign my camp medical form isn’t one of them! 

Fortunately, the doctor, a guy around my age, is a good sport and the conversations during the visit are quite pleasant.

My doctor is white and Jewish, while his two partners in their downtown New Haven, Connecticut, practice are Indian and black men. 

Last month, I had my yearly checkup. As I was finishing up my EKG and blood pressure screening with the 30-something black female technician I have known for years, she asked, “Don’t you usually wear a small hat on your head?”

A man wears a black kippah. (credit: Wikimedia Commons)

I paused then quickly realized she was referring to the knitted kippah she usually sees me wear to appointments. 

I said, “You have a good memory. I usually wear a yarmulke on my head. To tell you the truth, these days, I really don’t feel safe. I have been wearing a baseball hat.” (I point to my gray USTA tennis hat). 

I didn’t go into all the details – the arrest of 48 pro-Palestinian protesters at their encampment on the Yale University campus less than a mile from the doctor’s office, the overall rise in antisemitism in America, and so on.

She considers my response and thoughtfully replies, “You are not yourself without it.”

In my pocket and out of sight

She has me put on a hospital gown and she ushers me to the exam room. I carry my shoes, clothes, and my hat in my hand. My kippah remains in my pocket, out of sight.

She weighs me and asks a range of questions about things like depression symptoms. I am not depressed so I deny any symptoms. Sure, she would not be able to truly understand how I and everyone I know have actually been dealing with symptoms of depression and especially anxiety since October 7. 

As she is about to leave the room and invite the doctor in, she smiles warmly and says, “You look good in it. You really should start wearing it again!”

I so appreciated her comments and heartfelt concern. I am sure on some level she truly understands what it means to look different and to stand out. Unlike her, I can take off my kippah and “blend in” to feel safe. For a moment, I am putting myself in her shoes. But for now, she is asking about me.

After wearing a kippah almost nonstop for decades, I have decided in the wake of October 7 to not walk outside in America wearing a kippah. I am also careful not to go outside wearing any of my 50 Ramah hats, jackets, sweatshirts, and vests, which have Hebrew on them. 

This is eating me up. What a relief it was to go back to wearing a kippah full-time during two recent trips to Israel. For now, in America, I only wear a baseball hat and stay away from Hebrew clothing.

We have made other tough decisions. While our Jewish community was giving out “I Stand with Israel” signs to display on the front lawn, we opted not to – out of concern for our safety. This is not to say that local antisemites won’t come down our street looking for mezuzot or Shabbat candles kindled in the window, or lights left on for 25 hours for Shabbat.

I have always been a proud, comfortable Jew in America who never thought twice about displaying Jewish signs – on my home or person. 

These times are different. 

Before last Sunday’s “March for a Free Palestine” on the New Haven Green, the Jewish Federation of Greater New Haven reminded the Jewish community to avoid the area. Gail Slossberg, the CEO of the Jewish Federation wrote, “If you are downtown at that time, please have situational awareness. Do not engage with protesters.”

I was not in the area. And sadly, I am always wearing a baseball hat – with no Hebrew writing. 

The writer is a disabilities inclusion specialist and freelance writer living in New Haven, Connecticut.

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The original article is published at JPost.com

What can Israeli educators learn from a visit to the memorial for the victims of 9/11?

Since October 7, Israelis have been grappling with the question of what commemorations and memorials would be most appropriate to mark this painful period in Israeli and Jewish history.

Twenty-three educational consultants from Israeli schools working with Schechter Institute’s TALI program recently spent a week in New York City, where they turned to Ground Zero and its 9/11 Memorial for inspiration and guidance.

Through this visit, meetings, and programs with Jewish leaders, institutions, and members of the Jewish community, they also deepened their knowledge of and relationship with the American Jewish community. The delegation returned to Israel on Tuesday with new ideas and insights.

The insights the delegation came back with 

The diverse participants work in youth villages (boarding schools) throughout Israel’s periphery, striving to empower teens and build their leadership skills. The consultants are part of TALI, the Hebrew acronym for “Enhanced Jewish Studies,” Israel’s largest pluralistic in-school Jewish studies program, which provides educational programs and resources to 65,000 children in diverse communities throughout Israel.

The consultants began planning their trip to New York before October 7. At the time, the visit was intended to be the culmination of six months of study, during which they explored issues of Jewish and Israeli identity. Through readings and discussions of Zionist literature, Israeli culture, and a visit to a major world Diaspora community, the participants would be better equipped to serve their students.

THE TWIN Towers burn (credit: Brad Rickerby/File/Reuters)

Then, after October 7, the trip’s viability was uncertain.

“The trip itself is a little bit of a miracle,” reported Dr. Peri Sinclair, the Susan and Scott Shay TALI director-general of the Schechter Institute. “We started planning the trip before Sukkot, and it was a big question mark!”

In a conversation just hours after arriving in New York, Sinclair noted that she hoped the trip would “expose participants to the vitality and creativity” of the Diaspora Jewish community, help them see “common ties,” and “see what inspiration they could bring home.”

Sinclair described the trip as “a bit of a reverse solidarity mission.” She observed, “The international hug Israel has felt after 10/7 has been very powerful. Everyone realized we need to put more into our relationships worldwide.”

Sinclair hoped the group – many of whom were in the United States for the first time – would experience firsthand the pluralism TALI holds as a core value, and that they would come back to Israel “with action steps.”

The visit to Ground Zero and the 9/11 Memorial would be an important part of the process of considering the role of memorials and monuments in Israel post-10/7. Sinclair pointed out that “lots of Israelis see 10/7 as Israel’s 9/11. They realize how horrendous 9/11 was, and want to bridge from their experience to ours.”

Sinclair, an Israeli who earned her doctorate in the US and has previously visited Ground Zero, was hopeful about the impact and meaning of the group’s visit. Yet she acknowledged, “I don’t know what to expect. Going after our 10/7 will be different. It is not just paying respects. It is part of our processing what happened to us.”

Rivka Greenfield, TALI’s director of pedagogy research and development, hoped the group would “see how Americans dealt with 9/11 and how they educate children.”

She noted that “for the past six months, we have been feeling it in our flesh, and we want to go [to New York] because [what we are experiencing] is part of an international war.”

The visit to Ground Zero, on a busy day for the delegation, as it took place between visits to the Lower East Side and the UJA-Federation of New York, began with a ceremony organized by two group members. Each participant received both a yellow ribbon pin, which in Israel has become a symbol of identification with those held in captivity, and a white 9/11 Memorial bracelet.

Together, the group members engaged in a text study and discussed the roles memorials and monuments play in the US and in Israel.

Sinclair later recounted powerful discussions the group had engaged in. Some of the group members were struggling with “not wanting their children [who live near the Gaza border area] to have to drive daily to school through a monument.” Others noted the need “to make space and fill a void with positive actions, by not being victims, and yet remember that there is evil in the world.”

THE VISIT to Ground Zero and the US had a strong impact on the participants, who are still processing the experience and figuring out what to incorporate into their teaching back home.Dotan Levi, head of education at Derech Kfar near Atlit, movingly described his journey from Israel to Ground Zero.

“We left family and friends in a bloody Israeli reality and set out to discover our people and, to a large extent, to meet ourselves with questions of identity, belonging, and meaning.

“When we arrived at Ground Zero, the intensity of the memory of the terrible deaths came to life. Wearing yellow pins to remember that 186 days have passed and the hostages are still in Gaza, and a white bracelet bearing the memory of those who perished in the Twin Towers disaster, we wondered about the relationship between the Jewish people and the world and what is the right thing to do: to continue to increase the light and to concentrate the Jewish and world effort, or is it right to fight the darkness and remember that there is evil in the world and we need to fight it?

“Antisemitism and terrorism are not a danger to the Jewish people; they are a danger to hope, a danger to the world. Anyone who strives for good should stand on the side of good, on the side of Israel.”

Morit Agmor-Avraham, head of professional development for Derech Kfar, reflected on her visit with many people and institutions in the New York Jewish community. “American Jewry provides us with a hall of mirrors for ourselves, for who we are as individuals, as family members, and as a nation,” she noted.

The impressive and thoughtful group was well received by Jewish educators in New York, who were impressed and moved by their visit.

Dr. David Bryfman, CEO of The Jewish Education Project, noted their curiosity. “What an absolute privilege to be able to interact with a cross section of some of the very best of Israeli society. These educators are so committed to their profession and education that they really offer hope for a brighter future in a post-October 7 world.”

On Friday, April 12, just before Shabbat, the delegation met with Rabbi Avi Orlow, vice president of innovation and education at the Foundation for Jewish Camp.

Instead of a well-deserved restful Shabbat, group members prepared for a range of Shabbat programs and experiences, before a final day of touring on Sunday and departure from New York on Monday night.

What will the delegation bring back to Israel? “I don’t think they know yet,” Sinclair noted honestly. “Most are still processing.”

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