People often ask me how we prepare Jewish teenagers for the rising tide of antisemitism, particularly after incidents like the recent one in Michigan. The expectation is usually a discussion of debate tactics, or how to dismantle anti-Zionist arguments online. But that’s not our approach.
I lead organizations reaching over 40,000 Jewish teens, the majority attending public high schools and encountering peers who may have limited or no exposure to Jewish life. They are facing genuine hostility, a surge in antisemitic incidents within schools that has become markedly worse since October 7, 2023.
Our response isn’t a workshop on arguing back. It’s an investment in the very essence of who these young people are. We’re building a foundation of identity, strength, and belonging that transcends any hateful rhetoric.
We immerse teenagers in Jewish retreats and Shabbat experiences, offering many their first true taste of what it means to be part of a vibrant, enduring people. We connect them to Jewish history, not as a chronicle of suffering, but as a legacy of resilience, innovation, and purpose.
We introduce them to the richness of Jewish learning, the profoundness of Jewish values, and the simple, unhurried joy of Jewish community. Something remarkable happens when that connection takes root.
They begin to stand differently – not defensively, but with genuine confidence. They don’t need to “win” against hatred because their worth isn’t defined by it. They are anchored to something far older and far more powerful.
I often reflect on what “Never Again” truly means for this generation. After the Holocaust, it was a plea to the world, a demand for civilization to prevent such horrors from repeating. That demand remains vital.
But for Jewish teens in 2025, “Never Again” must be an active principle, something they embody daily. And the most potent action isn’t confrontation; it’s continuation. It’s the unwavering commitment to Jewish life.
To live as a proud Jew – openly, joyfully, and unapologetically – is the most powerful response to any attempt to diminish or silence the Jewish people. A teen who lights Shabbat candles, recites the blessings, dances with friends at a Jewish event, and feels the unbroken chain to generations past doesn’t need lessons in how to react to antisemitism.
They already know who they are. And that self-knowledge is impervious to hateful tweets or hostile classrooms. It’s a core strength that cannot be taken away.
Social media has amplified hatred to an unimaginable degree. Anti-Israel propaganda can reach a Jewish child in a quiet suburb within minutes. The sheer volume is relentless and overwhelming.
Yet, I’ve observed that the teens most deeply rooted in their Jewish identity are also the most resilient. They process the hatred differently – not because they ignore it, but because it doesn’t shake their foundation. Their sense of self is non-negotiable.
After October 7th, I witnessed something profoundly moving across our network. Jewish teens didn’t retreat into silence. They showed up – for each other, for their communities, for their people. They organized, they mourned together, and they clung to their Jewish identity.
They understood, on a visceral level, that being Jewish wasn’t something to abandon when it became difficult. It was something to embrace even more fiercely. It was a source of strength, not a vulnerability.
That’s what we’re building: not a generation of debaters, but a generation of Jewish youth so secure in their worth, so connected to their heritage, and so deeply embedded in their community that antisemitism – however vicious and loud – simply cannot penetrate their core.
The news will continue to report on the hatred. But someone must also report on the response. Forty thousand Jewish teenagers are living it, embodying it, and demonstrating it every day.
Their answer to antisemitism isn’t a counterargument. It’s a Shabbat table, a Jewish summer program, the radiant expression on a sixteen-year-old’s face when they realize, perhaps for the first time, that being Jewish isn’t a burden, but a gift.
That is what “Never Again” looks like now. Not a warning, but a vibrant, lived reality.
