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How the CEO of New York’s largest food bank is inspired by Jewish values
(New York Jewish Week) — At the Food Bank for New York City, one of the largest food banks in the country, the holiday season is crucial to ensuring New Yorkers have enough food to be able to live with dignity.
Since its founding in 1983, the organization has provided over one billion meals to New Yorkers in need — as well as offering free SNAP assistance, tax preparation services and financial literacy programs to low-income residents.
“Our central mission is that we feed people for today, but we have made significant investments in programming that truly helps to lift people out of poverty,” president and chief executive officer Leslie Gordon told the New York Jewish Week. “Because the reason why people are food insecure to begin with is a resource problem. It’s an inability to get connected to networks or resources, because of racist systems or policy issues.”
Gordon, who is Jewish, has helmed the organization since 2020, and in some ways, rose to the role in a way that seemed inevitable. As a child, she loved to watch her grandfather sell meat, produce and other goods from the grocery store he owned in Tarrytown, New York, and deliver food donations to the needy. Her mother, who also grew up at the store, was the executive director at the Hunts Point Produce Market, the country’s largest wholesale produce market.
Prior to joining Food Bank for New York, Gordon held leadership roles at Feeding Westchester, a food bank network in Westchester County and City Harvest, which helps make fresh, nutritious food accessible around New York. Starting her job at the beginning of the pandemic, Gordon has overseen a doubling of the Food Bank for New York’s annual food distribution across the city from 70 million pounds to 150 million pounds.
A fourth-generation Tarrytown resident, Gordon has been a member of the Conservative congregation Temple Beth Abraham her entire life. She lives in the same house that she, her grandfather and her mother grew up in, with her wife, two dogs and two cats.
The New York Jewish Week chatted with Gordon about her background, her favorite parts of the job and the Jewish family values that got her here.
This interview has been lightly condensed and edited for length and clarity.
After leadership roles at two other food banks, Gordon took over the top position at Food Bank for New York City in March 2020. She credits her Jewish family values for helping guide her. (Courtesy)
New York Jewish Week: How have your Jewish values guided you as the CEO of Food Bank for New York?
Leslie Gordon: The thing about my connection to Judaism at the Food Bank is really a personal responsibility around doing tikkun olam. It’s an ever-present, everyday commitment to making the world more just and equal through social action, which is what we do every day at Food Bank — helping New Yorkers across the five boroughs to have the resources they need to be able to have a stable, healthy life where they can thrive and look forward to working on achieving their dreams.
Food is culture. Food is love. Food is history. Food has always been a big part of my personal Jewish experience — whether through holidays or through historical explorations. My grandfather was a butcher. He grew up in a small Jewish enclave in Rockland County called Pot Cheese Hollow [now Spring Valley], which is a sort of a European framing for all things cottage cheese.
You started this job right at the beginning of the pandemic. What was that like, and what was the path that led you to working at Food Bank?
I’ll never forget this: My first day was March 30, 2020. It was a little crazy to be the humble leader of one of the nation’s largest food banks at a time when the need was historically outsized and quickly escalated. It was a little bit of a challenge and, frankly, has been for most of my tenure.
Again, it goes back to my Jewish familial roots. I am carrying on a family legacy of feeding people: My grandfather, Norman Goldberg, was the son of European immigrants. When they came over [to America], and in his growing up years in that enclave in Rockland County, they were really, really poor. One of their biggest assets, believe it or not, was a dairy cow — no running water, no indoor plumbing. He would tell stories as kids that sometimes the only thing he ate in the course of a day was an apple that he picked off a neighboring farmer’s tree.
Fast forward many years into the future, he was a successful businessman, between a grocery store, a butcher store and a wine and liquor store, amongst other pursuits. He never forgot where he came from and he would talk to us about the importance of connecting people with food, and again doing tikkun olam. They would get phone calls from the rabbi at Temple Beth Abraham in Tarrytown, where they lived, because food banks and food pantries didn’t exist back then — the World War II era all the way through the 1950s, ’60s, and even ’70s. They would get a list of people in the community who needed help and [my grandfather] would take my mother by the arm and they would go to the local grocery store and shop. Frequently, as my mom tells it now, they’d end up in a local fourth-floor walk-up apartment building, ring the bell, drop the groceries and go, because you wanted to preserve the dignity of those whom you are helping.
That really made an impression on me. My grandfather was also an avid backyard gardener and was famous for leaving those little brown lunch bags full of excess produce from his backyard garden on people’s stoops.
My mother became the head of the world’s largest wholesale produce terminal, which is based in the Hunts Point section of South Bronx. I caught the bug on logistics and operations in food and really the romanticism of the food system. I’m still of that generation where I feel very connected to my local food system and farmers. I had a very unique growing up experience, where I got to see train cars full of broccoli or potatoes or other amazing produce that traveled through small towns and cities across the United States to land up in the South Bronx. So, I’ve been in the arena of food banking for about 15 years. I couldn’t have predicted it, I call it a happy accident. Of the 10 food banks in New York State, I’ve had the pleasure and honor of leading three of them.
What type of outreach do you do to New York’s Jewish community?
We’re a city of about 8.4 million people, and 1.6 million of them, give or take, are people who just don’t know where their next meal is coming from or what it will be. Ask yourself: Have you ever been hungry for a long period of time during the day? How do you deal with that? Imagine if that was your every day. That is compounded, potentially, by other struggles that you have. People don’t live single-issue lives. So, typically, when you’re food insecure, there are a lot of other issues that you’re grappling with — could be housing issues, could be mental health issues, could be employment or underemployment issues. There’s just a lot going on in the mix. New York City is a particularly expensive place to live. It’s a tough environment.
We’re the heart of a network of about 800 on-the-ground partners across the five boroughs. On nearly every street in nearly every neighborhood, our partners are food pantries, community kitchens, senior centers, shelters, community-based organizations like New York City Housing Authority or a Boys and Girls Club. In the case of the Jewish community, we have relationships with more than 40 on-the-ground agencies that specifically serve observant Jews. Organizations like Masbia, Alexander Rapoport’s restaurant-style soup kitchen that he’s now famous for.
We’re serving one of the nation’s largest kosher observant populations in the U.S. right here in New York City. We’re committed to making sure that kosher-observing communities in Williamsburg, Midwood, Crown Heights, Coney Island, Lower East Side, etc., have access to good kosher food that they can feel good about. The number of Jews in New York City who struggle is just astounding. We have a very large Jewish population, obviously. And so, you know, it’s something that’s on my mind a lot. I’ve had the opportunity to work with the Jewish community in New York now for over 15 years. Studies tell us that more than 10% of Jewish adults, and Jewish adults with kids in New York are food insecure. It’s serious. You’d be astounded, probably, to learn that more than 20% of adults in Jewish households in New York are at the poverty line.
What is your favorite part of the job?
A job as a food bank leader is very, very unique. In the course of a day, I can work on operations, I can work on marketing and communications, I can meet with donors, I can be on the phone with one of our agencies or food pantries on the ground, or I can be working on policy or advocacy. So it’s a really varied position. The most fun part about my job is the people and the stories. It’s the people who we serve who just have really big hearts and deep and interesting personal stories, and they’re just like you and me — moms and dads and families and kids who are trying to live their best life. We take the opportunity to be able to help them along the way pretty seriously.
For me, it starts internally with our Food Bank family. I take that really seriously. The culture in the organization is really important to me. I want people to feel supported and have all the resources they need to do their job, to be excited and energized about the ability and opportunity they have to impact people’s lives. At the end of the day, it’s always the people.
I’m a bit of a builder, and a fixer. It’s just who I am. Why I’m that way, I have no idea. My mother tells me that I’m my grandfather’s granddaughter. I just have a particular affinity for how things work and systems and processes and making things better and more efficient. It’s just part of my DNA, I guess. That is a skill set that really fits well with what’s required to run a food bank.
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The post How the CEO of New York’s largest food bank is inspired by Jewish values appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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UNRWA in Gaza Has Been Replaced; It’s Time to Shutter the Agency
Palestinians pass by the gate of an UNRWA-run school in Nablus in the West Bank. Photo: Reuters/Abed Omar Qusini.
The UN Relief and Works Agency — or UNRWA — in Gaza has been replaced by over a dozen other aid organizations. UNRWA’s decades-long monopoly on aid and services has finally been broken, presenting a rare opportunity for deradicalization and, eventually, peace.
What’s more, the international community now has a model for how to replace UNRWA everywhere it operates, not just in Gaza.
The UN Security Council approved President Donald Trump’s proposal to build a “Board of Peace” on November 17 that will oversee the deradicalization of Gaza and the dismantlement of Hamas’ terror state. But Trump’s vision will not succeed until UNRWA is shuttered.
UNRWA was created with a temporary mandate after Israel’s 1947-1948 War of Independence to provide aid and services to approximately 750,000 Palestinian Arabs displaced by the war.
Over the past 75 years, UNRWA’s mandate has ballooned. Not only does UNRWA continue to provide a myriad of services in the jurisdictions where Arab refugees from 1948 immigrated, but refugee status has been passed from generation to generation. As a result, what was a relatively small refugee population in 1948 (compared to other 20th century refugee populations) is today a large and growing 21st century refugee population with no end in sight. UNRWA counts 5.9 million Palestinian refugees and has an annual budget of over a billion and half dollars.
UNRWA schools teach the belief that Palestinian refugees and their millions of descendants would all return to the modern state of Israel — an outcome that would immediately erase Israel’s Jewish majority.
The focus on “return,” coupled with the well-documented glorification of terror and incitement — including arithmetic problems involving numbers of Palestinian “martyrs,” antisemitic tropes, and naming schools and soccer fields after suicide bombers — has produced generations of indoctrinated and radicalized Palestinian children.
UNRWA staff participated in the horrors of October 7, praised the violence on social media, and Israeli hostages were held captive in UNRWA facilities for months during the war.
Once Israel exposed the extent of UNRWA’s involvement in terror, Israel’s Knesset passed legislation in October 2024 to end coordination with UNRWA and to rescind the special privileges and immunities that Israel granted the organization. Israel’s actions made it difficult for UNRWA — which had used the Jewish State as its base of operations for decades — to continue delivering its services.
UNRWA advocates warned that Israel’s new law would have catastrophic consequences. It didn’t.
Israel’s justified decision to cease cooperating with UNRWA demonstrated quickly that other organizations and state actors — without the proclivity towards terror — were willing and able to step in.
UNRWA candidly describes itself as a quasi-state actor. This is true. For decades, UNRWA in Gaza provided services — like trash collection, education, and health clinics — that should be the responsibility of the state. In Gaza, this meant that Hamas outsourced its governmental obligations to UNRWA — with the international community picking up the bill — financially freeing Hamas terrorists to hoard weapons and build a terror fortress underneath Gaza.
Before October 7, UNRWA was the second biggest employer in Gaza and provided basic services like sanitation, health, and education to over a million people. After Hamas launched the war, UNRWA — swiftly announcing that it was not the terror organization’s responsibility to care for distressed Gazan civilians — went into high gear, taking over additional aid distribution functions.
In January 2025, when Trump negotiated the first ceasefire between Israel and Gaza, the UN established a new initiative with a dedicated online tracker to monitor aid entering Gaza. The tracker reports that UNRWA has not brought any aid into Gaza since January.
According to an Israeli official familiar with aid delivery in Gaza, the basic services performed by UNRWA before and during the first year of the war are now performed by other actors in the enclave. The United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) is managing most of the waste management in the enclave. Fuel distribution is managed by the United Nations Office for Project Services (UNOPS). The World Central Kitchen has been effective at delivering food alongside the World Food Program (WFP), which is also handling the broader logistics function for aid delivery in Gaza — a function WFP performs worldwide. UNICEF has taken a larger role in children-related humanitarian responses, and the World Health Organization (WHO) is providing medical aid to field clinics and hospitals.
This is how the rest of the world manages humanitarian crises caused by wars and natural disasters, and the correct way to manage the crisis in Gaza: with organizations that have a temporary mandate to deliver aid. Once the crisis has passed, those services should once again be the responsibility of the state.
Funding UNRWA — a self-described quasi-state — for over three quarters of a century to run services that should be the responsibility of a state government has been a calamity for Gaza and the region.
US taxpayers have historically been UNRWA’s largest donor, and have contributed over seven billion dollars to the UN agency since its creation. Congress has voiced consistent but limited support for ending UNRWA funding, and both Presidents Trump and Biden previously cut taxpayer dollars to the UN agency.
UNRWA supporters — including UNRWA’s US organization that lobbies Washington for support and funding — railed against attempts to cut funding, arguing that “UNRWA is irreplaceable,” a slogan often employed by UNRWA staff and advocates.
The reality is that UNRWA in Gaza has already been replaced.
Sadly, UNRWA’s multi-generation radicalization campaign in Gaza is not unique. The same brainwashing is happening wherever UNRWA operates, breeding terrorists and terror sympathizers across the region.
The UN and the international community can use the Gaza model to replace UNRWA’s corrosive monopoly on aid to Palestinians across the region.
The Trump administration now has an opportunity to wield its influence with other major UNRWA donors — namely the EU, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Canada, and Japan — to redirect their UNRWA funding to relief organizations that can deliver the much-needed aid and services without the radicalizing agenda. This critical reform should be implemented if the world truly wants to bring about peace.
Enia Krivine is the senior director of the Israel Program and the National Security Network at the Foundation for Defense of Democracies. Follow her on X @EKrivine.
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In New York City, Jews Are Accused of Breaking ‘International Law’ for Supporting Israel’s Existence
New York City mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani holds a press conference at the Unisphere in the Queens borough of New York City, US, Nov. 5, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Kylie Cooper
Last month, New York City’s Park East synagogue hosted a talk on matters of American Jewish interest, including immigration to Israel.
Outside, a crowd of protesters raged against the event’s Jewish participants, including cries of “we need to make them scared,” “f—king Jewish pricks,” and “globalize the intifada” (a phrase the United States Congress officially recognizes as a call for violence against the Jewish people).
Mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani’s response has been described by some Jewish leaders as “ambivalent” or “hollow.”
It was not ambivalent, and it was not hollow.
Mamdani’s statement was outright terrifying:
The Mayor-elect has discouraged the language used at last night’s protest and will continue to do so … he believes every New Yorker should be free to enter a house of worship without intimidation, and that these sacred spaces should not be used to promote activities in violation of international law.”
(Spokesperson for Mayor-elect Mamdani, November 20, 2025. Emphasis added)
International law?
A lecture at a synagogue violated international law?
To be clear, in addition to being absolutely protected by America’s First Amendment, a talk about Jewish immigration at a synagogue does not even remotely violate any international law, convention, or treaty.
It is well known that the Mayor-elect promised to arrest Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu should he ever visit New York City, supposedly for reasons of “international law.” Ironically, doing so would actually violate both US Federal law as well as several of the very international laws Mamdani claims to uphold — a legal topic I’ve previously discussed in depth.
Yet in this case, the soon-to-be mayor of New York City was not accusing a foreign leader of war crimes: he was accusing Jews.
Not Israeli leaders — Jews. American Jews. New York Jews.
For attending a talk at a synagogue.
Let that sink in for a minute.
While you do, let’s recall Amsterdam, November 2024: the local Muslim population carried out an actual, modern day pogrom against visiting Israeli soccer fans, literally hunting them through the city streets. For hours, the Dutch police were nowhere to be found.
It’s important to note that Amsterdam’s city government speaks about Israel, and treats its local Jews, in a manner starkly similar to Mamdani.
Just one example: Amsterdam police have the right to refuse assignments on moral grounds. One of the assignments police frequently refuse is protecting Jewish sites, including Holland’s National Holocaust Museum. On “moral grounds.” And with the legal support of the government.
The New York City police will soon be under the command of a mayor who accuses American Jews of war crimes. In a city where violent antisemitic attacks have already reached shocking levels, the police are about to become unreliable at best, and perhaps even hostile.
Matters under the mayor’s direct authority, such as police protection, are only the beginning. Dozens of city agencies could be next.
For example, Mamdani has promised to cut New York City’s relationship with Israel’s Technion University via Cornell University. The mayor does not directly control this decision, but he does have the power to appoint members of the board of management of the Roosevelt Island Operating Corporation, which can then force Cornell into decisions against the partnership.
In the coming years, New York City will see dozens of other political appointments, some visible and others subtle, and they will impact every aspect of the City’s culture, education, and safety, for years to come.
So what can we do about it?
To answer that question, one must first understand the scope of the problem.
At a 2001 conference in Durban, South Africa, the Palestinian Authority and its various allies (including Qatar and Iran) launched what later became known as the “Diplomatic Intifada.” Their target was the generation just being born: today’s 18-24 year old cohort. Their timeframe was decades, and their budget was essentially unlimited.
I saw this tsunami of antisemitism fast approaching during the Gaza war in 2009, and I moved to Israel shortly after. But Aliyah is not a viable or attractive option for everyone. I have dedicated my career to doing everything I can to make a meaningful change on an appropriately large scale.
For your part, you can do these things: Be utterly committed to truth at any cost and speak without compromise.
Some Jewish leaders irresponsibly called Mamdani’s statement “ambivalent” or “hollow” instead of what it was: terrifying and malicious. If uncompromising honesty endangers your job, get a new one. If it endangers your place in your community, find a new community. And if it endangers your safety — move. Yes, this takes courage, maybe even sacrifice. Yes, this is blunt, hard, and perhaps even costly advice. Yet the cost of silence will ultimately be far greater. (Remember 1938?)
Raise your children (or your future children) to understand and appreciate the importance of Israel, of Judaism, and of basic respect for truth itself. Teach them to be strong, unafraid, and true to their values. Learning starts at home, values start at home, and it all starts early.
Daniel Pomerantz is the CEO of RealityCheck, an organization dedicated to deepening public conversation through robust research studies and public speaking.
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At My School and Others, Students for Justice in Palestine Continues to Erase History
Rutgers University students holding an anti-Zionist demonstration on March 19, 2024. Photo: USA Today Network via Reuters Connect
On the two-year anniversary of the Oct. 7 attacks, the University of Florida’s chapter of Students for Justice in Palestine (SJP) hosted a vigil directly in front of our school’s library to “honor the martyrs,” where they continued to promote the genocide libel.
I asked them, “Why do this on the anniversary of the 10/7 massacre?” Almost mindlessly, as if they were still taking cues from a toolkit, they dodged the question and centered their preferred victims with: “Do you know how many Palestinians were killed on October 7th?”
There was no mention of the Nova festival or the kibbutzim. No condolences for the 1,200 innocent people murdered or the 251 taken hostage. No acknowledgment that this attack, perpetrated by Palestinian terrorists, was and still is widely supported in Palestinian society. SJP students were more interested in legitimizing their heroes by comparing Hamas to the Black Panther Party.
The US Civil Rights movement achieved its goals through nonviolent protests like sit-ins and boycotts, not stabbing attacks, blowing up public places, or calling for the annihilation of American citizens. Hamas was founded with the express goal of eradicating Israel and murdering Jews.
Since the IDF didn’t enter the war that SJP claims has been a “genocide” until 20 days later, why pick 10/7 to hold the vigil? It seems like they did so to invalidate Jewish mourning and bolster Hamas propaganda.
This kind of narrative erasure is not new for the Palestinian National Movement.
Nakba Day is held on May 15, supposedly to mark the “catastrophe” of Israel’s creation, and the embarrassment of losing the 1948 war (which they started). But on May 15, 1948, the refugee crisis that Palestinians claim to mourn hadn’t even begun. It was the day after Israel announced its independence, when five surrounding Arab armies invaded, along with help from the local population (now known as the Palestinians). Yasser Arafat chose this day for the same reason SJP chose 10/7, to overtake Jewish memory in public discourse.
Clearly, they don’t want to convince anyone based on the merits of their position. It appears they want to coerce the public into agreeing with them, which is why they responded to my question the way they did.
The histories of Palestinians and Jews are intertwined, and it is dangerous to distort part of history to fit one’s agenda. We must hold ourselves to the same standard, and acknowledge the suffering of Palestinians throughout the history of this conflict, but that doesn’t mean blaming Israel for everything. Doing so is dangerous, especially towards the Jewish students at the University of Florida (UF), which comprise nearly 20% of the undergraduate population.
There is a future in which Jewish and Palestinian voices can work together, but only when SJP is open to hearing other perspectives and participates in an actual campus dialogue. I urge members of SJP to think critically about the accusatory messages they are spreading. By spreading this propaganda, it tarnishes innocent Jewish and Zionist students, distorts truth, and makes reconciliation more difficult.
I also encourage every student to conduct their own research, and not get caught in this cycle of misinformation. By engaging effectively with both SJP and pro-Israel organizations, and doing research for themselves, a safer and more educated campus is possible.
When the peace deal was brokered and the hostages were finally returned home, I hoped to see SJP celebrating alongside their Jewish peers. It didn’t happen — but it is only when we come together to celebrate these victories and remember our shared history that we can end this cycle of violence.
David Caine is a CAMERA fellow and second-year journalism student at the University of Florida.