On my way to an event celebrating Jewish camp a couple of weeks ago, I called the counselor who got me through my first summer at camp. I started my camp experience as one of the most homesick kids in the history of Camp Bauercrest. But that counselor stuck with me, and I went on to spend 12 summers there as a camper, counselor, group leader, and assistant director.
So much of the person I am today is because of my time “on the hillside.” Camp instilled in me independence and taught me about leadership. It strengthened my Jewish identity and deepened my connections to Jewish community.
When the Foundation for Jewish Camp (FJC) brought its board meeting to Boston two weeks ago, we had the privilege of co-hosting a gathering of camp directors, lay leaders, and philanthropic partners from across the country and from right here at home. FJC's CEO Jamie Simon and I sat down for a conversation about camp, including her experience, mine, and why this matters so much right now.
As many of our children are returning from their own camp experiences, I have been thinking about one of the arguments playing out in our community right now. In February, in his State of World Jewry address at the 92nd Street Y, Bret Stephens called the organized fight against antisemitism "a well-meaning, but mostly wasted, effort," and urged us to redirect our energy toward building Jewish life itself.
Last week in eJewishPhilanthropy, Steve Freedman, a veteran day school head, made a quieter version of the case: the most urgent work of Jewish education right now is not rebutting antisemitism but making sure our children can "explain themselves to themselves before someone else does it for them."
In my view, while we should debate priorities and resource allocation, this is not an either/or. Protecting Jewish communities is not optional. Neither is educating our children. In fact, one of the most powerful ways to combat antisemitism is to ensure that our next generation knows and can confidently tell its own story. Especially at a time when we face so many challenges that we cannot control, what is squarely within our control is whether we raise a generation of proud, confident, knowledgeable, joyful Jews.
This is one of the essential messages of the fifth book of the Torah, Devarim (Deuteronomy), which we have been reading all summer. Moses speaks to the second generation of Israelites who are standing on the banks of the Jordan River about to enter the Land of Israel, 40 years after their parents left Egypt.
In this Book, our ancestors were told “Shema Yisrael” and commanded “v’shinantam l’vanecha” — you shall teach the words of our tradition to your children. At that moment of intergenerational change, they were implored to “zachor” — remember who you are and where you come from.
"Take utmost care," Moses says, "so that you do not forget the things that you saw with your own eyes [...] And make them known to your children and to your children's children."
This is a message that each of us, in every generation, needs to hear. You are not only the inheritors of this story: you have the privilege and responsibility of writing its next chapters.
Passing this message onto our children and empowering them to live it out is an urgent priority for the Jewish People right now. It is our job to inspire our next generation with meaning, connection, and joy, so the Jewish story is theirs before anyone else tries to write it for them.
This is exactly what happens at Jewish summer camp.
Which is precisely why I am so proud of CJP’s relationship with FJC — including the New England region we helped launch. Some 200,000 young people attended Jewish camps in North America this summer, thousands of them from Greater Boston. Together we have a simple and audacious goal: more young people’s lives transformed by even stronger Jewish camps.
Over the next few weeks, campers and counselors will come home hoarse, tired, and camp-sick, already looking forward to next summer. While the intensity of the emotions will fade, the impact on their lives and their Jewish journeys will last for a lifetime.