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A Holocaust survivor and her family saw ‘Leopoldstadt.’ The Broadway play told their story.
(New York Jewish Week) — On a Wednesday evening last month, three generations of a Jewish family made their way to their seats at the Longacre Theater to see “Leopoldstadt,” Tom Stoppard’s epic Broadway play about the tragedies that befall an extended Jewish family in the first half of the 20th century in Vienna.
The date of the family gathering was a significant one: Nov. 9, the 84th anniversary of the Nazi pogroms known as Kristallnacht. And in the audience was Fini Konstat, 96, who lived in the once thriving Jewish neighborhood after which the play is named, and witnessed the horrors it portrays first-hand. Alongside her were her daughter and her son-in-law, Renee and James Akers, and her oldest great-grandchild, Lexi Levin, 23.
When Konstat was a child, she lived in a “nice apartment” in Leopoldstadt. But exactly 84 years to the day of their theater date, “I was running with my father, seeing all the Jewish stores with all their windows broken,” she told Levin in a short video her great-granddaughter filmed before the curtain rose.
“It’s such a blessing for me to be here with you,” Levin said to her great-grandmother in response. “Ninety-six years old, survived a pandemic, at a Broadway show in New York City.”
Left: Fini as a child on the balcony of her apartment in Leopoldstadt. Right: Fini with her three children in front of the very same building, pictured in 2015. (Courtesy)
Since the beginning of its Broadway run in mid-September, “Leopoldstadt,” with its depiction of a prosperous Viennese family on the brink of destruction, has moved audiences to tears and inspired deep reflections on the Holocaust. Based on the celebrated playwright’s own family history — of which he was barely aware while growing up in England — it has provided a stark counterpoint to news about rising antisemitism and the celebrities who have been purveying it.
But for Konstat, the play was much more personal. “When I heard the word ‘Leopoldstadt,’ this alone gave me lots of thrills and memories,” Konstat, who is known in her family as Mimi, told the New York Jewish Week in accented English. She recalled how Levin, who recently moved to the city, invited her to fly to New York to see one of Broadway’s hottest tickets.
“Leopoldstadt,” she repeated, her voice breaking. “The second district. That’s where we lived.”
At the end of Stoppard’s five-act play, audiences learn that most of the Jewish characters had perished under the Nazis — of the four generations in the show, just three cousins survive to carry on the family’s legacy.
For Konstat too, she and her parents were among the very few in their extended family to survive the Holocaust. “Almost all of them went to Auschwitz or other camps,” Konstat said. “My mother was a twin and only the twins remained alive. [My mother’s] five other siblings and my grandmother perished.”
L-R: Renee Akers, James Akers, Lexi Levin and Fini Konstat at the Longacre Theater to see Tom Stoppard’s ‘Leopoldstadt on Broadway,’ Nov. 9, 2022. (Courtesy)
In a Zoom conversation held over Thanksgiving weekend, Konstat, surrounded by two of her daughters, two of her granddaughters and three of her great-granddaughters, shared what the play meant to her — and how her family has restored what she lost.
In the months after Kristallnacht in 1938, Konstat and her parents hid in a neighbor’s apartment; Konstat recalls hiding under the duvet when German soldiers showed up. Eventually the family fled to Turkey, and then to India, before settling down in Mexico City. There, the teenage Fini met her husband David, also a survivor who escaped Poland. The two of them began to write the rest of their story — starting with the birth of the first of their three children in 1948.
Unlike many Holocaust survivors, Fini and David Konstat were open about their experiences during the war, instilling a sense of pride and duty to remember in their children — something that eventually extended to their grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
“They were proud to speak about how they survived this,” said the Konstats’ middle child, Renee Konstat Akers. “Their life was an odyssey. They had the courage to do things that you would never think were possible. We grew up grateful knowing how our family survived in that incredible way.”
Each child moved to different places as they grew up and got married. Manuel, the oldest, stayed in Mexico. Renee married an American and moved to the Midwest, and Denise, the youngest, to Houston. Each became deeply involved in their Jewish communities, sending their children (Konstat’s grandchildren) to Jewish day schools, celebrating Jewish holidays and participating in synagogue life.
“The word ‘miracle’ really does not feel like an understatement in this scenario,” said Sherry Levin, one of Konstat’s grandchildren. “When we think about what it took for my grandmother and grandfather to survive and how they were able to intersect in Mexico, and such an amazing multi-generational family has come to fruition, it feels miraculous.”
Pictured here on their 40th anniversary, Fini and her husband David met in Mexico City after both had fled Europe. They were married 54 years before David died in 2001. (Courtesy)
Reviews of the show have ranged from rhapsodic to resistant, with some critics suggesting the play is simplistic and obvious in its story-telling or that it is less a well-crafted play than a well-meaning lesson on the Holocaust.
But just as the Merz family clashes and argues about everything from antisemitism to intermarriage to socialism in “Leopoldstadt,” each generation of the Konstat family that saw “Leopoldstadt” that night came away with something different — a reaction influenced by their age, their Jewish identity, their nationality and their relationship with their family.
For Konstat, the arc of “Leopoldstadt” was so familiar that it hardly stirred her. “It was just very happy watching it and enjoying it and enjoying my children with me, “ she told the New York Jewish Week. “I didn’t think about anybody else.”
Akers, too, felt an intense familiarity with the story, and, perhaps toughened by her own family history, didn’t experience an intense emotional reaction. Her own parents’ lives gave Akers a sense of purpose in her life — for example, in the 1990s, she was passionate about helping resettle Jews fleeing the former Soviet Union. With her own children, she instilled in them a strong sense of Jewish purpose in their work, their education and their family.
“I was a sandwich in between seeing my mother and my granddaughter,” she said of her “Leopoldstadt” experience. “I was emotional thinking of my mom who went through it, but I was more emotional about seeing my granddaughter be so moved. It really hit her at her core.”
Indeed, it was the youngest member of the family present that night who was most shaken by the play.
“It really felt like a gift to my family and to me, specifically, to be able to see what Mimi’s life looked like before the war,” Lexi Levin said, surmising that, as a fourth-generation survivor, she is among the first in her family to be able to start processing the loss on a grander scale.
“For the first time in my life, I really felt the magnitude of her loss,” she added. “I’ve known her story and I’ve been inspired by her story to be involved with my own Jewish causes, but I have never been able to access and truly empathize with her grief and what it meant that she lost the entire family she had before this one that she created.”
Turning to her great-grandmother, as if trying to make her understand the exact precision of the show, Levin explained, “It’s a play about generations and the family was large and then it was small.”
“You made it large again,” she said, referring to the generations of family that had assembled — in the Broadway theater and again over Thanksgiving weekend. “Look at this room.”
Pictured on her 90th birthday in 2017, Fini Konstat now has three children, ten grandchildren and twenty great-grandchildren. (Courtesy)
There was a coda for the family after the curtain went down. The day after the show, the family wanted to see the 1907 “Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I,” one of Gustav Klimt’s most famous paintings, which currently hangs at the Neue Galerie on the Upper East Side. A version of the portrait’s true story — how a painting of a socialite from a prominent Viennese Jewish family was looted by the Nazis and the family’s efforts to get it back — features in the plot of “Leopoldstadt.”
The gallery, however, was closed on the only day the family could visit. After a call to the management at the gallery, which showcases the German and Austrian art collections of Jewish philanthropist Ronald S. Lauder, the gallery’s director arranged a private tour.
“It felt like we were in a puzzle and everything was finally coming together,” said Akers. “It was an emotional, emotional time.”
When the week was over and the emotions were spent, Konstat and the Akers returned home with a reignited passion for their family story. But there was yet another twist: In addition to the whirlwind trip Levin planned for her grandparents and for Mimi, she had been undergoing the laborious process of applying for Austrian citizenship. Six members in Konstat’s large family have undertaken the process over the last two years.
“Part of the motivation was knowing Mimi’s story, and knowing that she survived because her mother had citizenship in Turkey,” Levin said. “That story was just inspirational to me, knowing that dual citizenship was what saved our family.” She convinced her brother and mother to apply for Austrian citizenship as well.
The day after her grandmother and great-grandmother left New York, Levin called them with news from her small apartment in Manhattan: An Austrian passport had arrived in the mail. The curtain was rising on another act.
Konstat was surprised at how interested her family was in getting Austrian citizenship. “I feel very good,” she said. “I’m very happy.”
“Does it make you emotional?” Levin asked her during the Zoom call with the New York Jewish Week.
“It does — of course it does. I used to love Austria,” she said. “I was sad to leave. I was disappointed. We never thought of coming back. I was happy to be able to escape. Thank God we made it out of hell.”
—
The post A Holocaust survivor and her family saw ‘Leopoldstadt.’ The Broadway play told their story. appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Regan Katz manages not just one, but two different – and successful baseball teams in two different cities
By BERNIE BELLAN About three months ago I wrote a story about an up and coming local football star by the name of Gavin Katz – who, although only 14 years old, had already received widespread recognition for his defensive abilities on the football field. (You can read that story at “Gavin Katz: ‘The next great Jewish football player’.”)
Gavin had been both a linebacker and defensive lineman for his pee-wee Fort Garry Lions Bantam football team – and he was voted most outstanding defensive player on his team by his coach, John Makie.
One thing that stood Gavin in especially good stead as a football player was that, in his 14th year, he grew 4 inches to 5’8″ and added 35 pounds to weigh 170 pounds at the time I spoke to him in July.
With him graduating from Ecole River Heights last June and moving on to Kelvin High School this September, Gavin had hopes to make the Kelvin football team, but he was realistic about his chances, saying that he thought he would probably “end up on the practice roster” for the Clippers varsity team “where he will be fighting for a playing role,” because if he did make the team he’d be among the youngest players on the team (which is usually made up predominantly of players from Grades 11 & 12).
Well, as I noted in my introduction to my story about Gavin Katz, the idea for doing that story came from sportswriter Scott Taylor. Recently, Scott sent me another email about a story, but this time the idea he suggested was to do a story about Gavin’s father, Regan.
I had mentioned Gavin’s parents’ names in my story about Gavin – also that Regan is former Mayor Sam Katz’s nephew (His father is Sam’s older brother, David), but other than adding Gavin’s mother’s name (Mandy), I didn’t go into any detail about Regan Katz and his own very successful career.
Then I received another email from Scott Taylor, this time about Regan (with a photo attached):
“Here’s a photo of the best baseball executive in Canada — Regan Katz.
“He runs both the Goldeyes and the Ottawa Titans. He helped get the Goldeyes to the playoffs, just won a championship with the Ottawa Titans and also set the affiliated minor league attendance record in Ottawa with more than 10,000 fans for the Frontier League opener and again for the Championship series.
“This guy has his shit together.”
And so, since my story about Gavin Katz was one of the most widely read stories on this website this past summer (It was also very widely read in the print Jewish Post newspaper.), I decided that, if Scott Taylor sends me a story idea, it’s an idea worth following up.
Which led me to contacting Regan Katz again. (The last time I contacted him it was to see whether he could wake Gavin up to talk to me. After all, like most teenagers, Gavin likes to sleep in when he can, but it was already 11 am on a Saturday morning when I was calling, so I figured: “Dad, go wake up your son. There’s a not-so-important journalist who wants to talk to him.”
Which is how I ended up having a very enjoyable interview with a very personable and unassuming young man – who did seem a little bit drowsy as I talked to him.
This time though, when I spoke with Gavin’s father, Regan was very much alert. Considering the hectic schedule he maintains though during baseball season, I could have forgiven him for sounding just a wee bit tired himself. But, at the time we did our phone interview, Regan’s baseball season had wound up. He sounded quite relaxed – still very much enjoying the accolades he had received for his work running not just one, but two different minor league baseball teams.
Before I began to ask Regan about his life in baseball, however, I wanted to touch base with him about Gavin’s football career. By now, the high school football season was in full tilt, and I was curious to know whether Gavin had made the Kelvin football team?
Regan told me that Gavin was one of only three “freshmen” to make the team and “Gavin’s the only one who started every game, and, yesterday got defensive player of the game” (which would have been played Thursday, Oct. 1, as our interview was conducted Friday, Oct. 2.)
I asked Regan whether Gavin was still playing linebacker (which, Gavin had told me, was his preferred position on defense)?

Regan responded that “they moved him to defensive tackle, so he’s right in the front line instead of at the back, but he’s breaking through the offense and helping the linebackers take down the tackles. He got two sacks yesterday and two running back tackles, which is not his job, but he’s breaking (through) kids larger than him and making his way through.”
At some point, as we follow Gavin’s football career, I hope to provide further updates as to his success on the “gridiron.” (By the way, the term “gridiron” – which refers to a football field and which used to be used quite often by sportswriters in the past “comes from the historical layout of the field, which was marked with intersecting lines every few yards that made it look like a metal cooking grate (or gridiron) used for broiling food over an open fire.”)
Enough about Gavin. Now, here’s the main point of why I wanted to do this story, which was to write about Regan.
I asked him how long he’s been involved with organized baseball?
He answered: “I’m in my 28th year.” As Regan observed, although he was born in Winnipeg, “when I was three, my dad decided he was allergic to snow and moved the family west (to Victoria). I came back in my late teens and joined up with the Winnipeg Goldeyes.”
Even before Regan moved back to Winnipeg, however, he had already embarked on a business career in his early teens, working for Westfair Foods (owners of Superstore and Wholesale Club) in British Columbia, helping to build grocery stores all over the province.
As he explained it, “So, when they would open up a new store, I would be the regional person who would go in and ensure that the setup and the staff was on plan.”
Regan was also responsible for training the staff and making “sure that everyone was ready” – traits that were to prove indispensable to what was to come during his current career in baseball. ”I was part of seven store openings in a two-year span, in that role” (with Westfair), Regan added.
He noted that when he left, he told them he was taking a “two-year sabbatical from the job.”
Regan added though, that “since I haven’t gone back, I assume they figured out I’m not returning.”
I asked: “Well, have they sent you a message saying, ‘Hey, the door’s still open?’ “
Regan answered: “No, but every year I get my superannuation for the time I served with them.”
He went on to note that he got married in 2010, “to a wonderful Manitoba woman, ” (Mandy, whose maiden name Gavin had told me, was Falk.)
Sam Katz actually revived the Winnipeg Goldeyes as a baseball franchise in 1994, when the team played out of the north end of what was then Winnipeg Stadium – in what was a very oddly shaped baseball field.
Regan, who came on board full-time with the Goldeyes in early 1999, says that he had spent some time with the team during a few previous summers spent in Winnipeg and had been able to see the Goldeyes play on that field which, he says, was affectionately known as “Deformity Field.”
(The left field fence was only 225 feet from home plate. It was a hitter’s dream – knocking easy home runs over that very short distance to the fence.)
Regan arrived in Winnipeg, however, just in time for what was to be the first season in what was to become the Goldeyes’ new home – what was then called CanwWest Park (now Blue Cross Park), in 1998.
His first title with the Goldeyes, he said, was “account executive, but I was truly a ‘gofer,” he observed.
“At the time construction was on full throttle at the new ballpark – downtown. And so, we were commuting from our offices on Maroons Road (where Winnipeg Stadium was located), and on McDermot – at Sam’s offices for Nite Out (Entertainment), as well as the ballpark trying to get things set up.
“So, when I wasn’t hauling or setting things up, I was making calls off a list to try and convince people to buy tickets.”
In those early years with the Goldeyes, as Regan noted, he was mostly involved in ticket sales, and in “2003, I moved to director of group sales and looked after all of our group sales, which are the outings where people are coming out (for things like) birthday parties, baseball teams, family gatherings, that kind of thing.”
In 2005, Regan moved up from director of group sales to assistant general manager, then in 2016 to vice president and chief operating officer – which are the positions he holds to this day.
In March 2020, however, Regan and his uncle Sam Katz took a trip to Ottawa – just as Covid was beginning to shut down things everywhere – including sporting venues.
There was a baseball park in Ottawa – called Ottawa Stadium, owned by the city, that was sitting empty.
As Regan explained, the city was “taking RFPs for an operator. (It had) sat empty for a year and a bit, and its previous occupant had left all kinds of turmoil and unpaid bills and whatnot.
“So they were looking for a team, trying to decide what to do with the venue. So we went out to tour – just as COVID shutdowns were starting in late March. We toured the venue, contemplated for a bit. And so, we went back and forth for a while, trying to decide if this was something we wanted to take on.
“In September of 2020, we agreed to terms with the city on a lease for the venue. We couldn’t travel across the border, so we started the team in 2022.”

The Ottawa team, known at the Titans, play in what is called the “Frontier League (which will be rebranding in 2027 to become the “National Association.” The Goldeyes, by the way, are in a league known as the “American Association.”)
There is a difference in the calibre of baseball players in the two leagues, as Regan explained to me: Players in the Frontier League would move up to Single A baseball, while players in the American Association would move up either to Double A or Triple A. (The level of baseball in the American Association is at a level wherein you can often see former major leaguers playing on teams.)
As vice-president and chief operating officer for both the Winnipeg Goldeyes and the Ottawa Titans, Regan said that he oversees general operations for both teams, but is not involved with the day to day management of players or coaches of the teams. That is the responsibility of the teams’ general managers and field managers, he clarified.
While there is no specific award for executive of the year in either the Frontier League or the American Association, when Scott Taylor wrote to me that Regan Katz is “the best baseball executive in Canada,” he didn’t say that he was referring only to minor league baseball.
As Regan noted, the Goldeyes received an award for “Game Presentation of the Year” this year, while the “Ottawa Titans received the Commissioner’s Award of Excellence.”
“When we started the (Ottawa) team five years ago,” he observed, “we were averaging about 1,200 fans. This year we were in excess of 2,600. We set attendance records, both for the ballpark in Ottawa, as well as for the league. We also sold 10,278 tickets to our opener, which is a record that will probably stand true for the rest of time.”
As far as the Winnipeg Goldeyes’ season went, not only did the team perform well on the field, making it to the first round of the playoffs, average attendance was the highest it’s been since before Covid, with games averaging over 4,000 fans.
Not only that, but the Goldeyes received a number of accolades for how they produce their games.
“Our broadcaster got Broadcaster of the Year,” Regan noted. (The games are broadcast on Nostalgia Radio Station CJNU. The play by play announcer is Trevor Curl.)
“We (also) received Game Presentation of the Year, which, you know is a big one because that’s what we work so hard on. What we’re selling – it’s all about fan experience.”
Regan continued: “Obviously, we try to put together a winning team, but to us, it’s all about having fun at the ballpark, win or lose – even if you don’t like baseball. So that one meant the most to us.
“We also won Social Media Team of the Year – for Winnipeg. All three of (those awards) are big ones to us because they’re pieces that we choose and work hard on.
“The essence of what I do (is) we’re trying to put on family entertainment that happens to have a baseball game in the background. ..and that’s what we built in Winnipeg.”
I asked Regan whether “in terms of, of how you rate in in Minor League Baseball – without trying to blow your own horn, I know the Goldeyes have always been considered a top-notch operation. Have the Goldeyes received any particular awards from organizations that look at all of minor league baseball and compare all teams?”
“ ‘Baseball Digest’ has acknowledged us a number of times over our 33 years for various pieces of what we do,” Regan answered, “whether it be attendance or game experience or most creative promotion. We’ve certainly received many, many mentions in ‘Baseball Digest,’ which is probably the most well-known for all of Minor League Baseball and independent leagues for sharing what’s out there.”
I asked Regan – and it was based on everything he had told me to that point: “Has anyone in a much more senior league tried to recruit you?”
He responded: “Are there headhunters out there who have called me? Absolutely, yes. Many, many teams call me to consult all the time, but I do keep my advice and recommendations to those within our league because I want to see the leagues that we’re in succeed.”
Regan added: “I have a young family. (In addition to Gavin, the Katz’s have a daughter, Brynlee, who is nine). I like where I’m at. I don’t think any other team is going to come to Winnipeg, so I’m well-planted here.”
My final question was about how difficult it is to run two separate teams that are so far apart?
He answered: “Anybody else who has overlap between two teams has a much shorter commute than I do – with a three-hour flight each way. It’s incredibly challenging. Fortunately, technology’s made it a lot easier with virtual meetings and things like that. I speak with my staff in Ottawa every single day. I’m in constant contact with at least some of them, if not all of them. All of our meetings are virtual so that I can be part of them.”
Only 47 years old, Regan Katz has been working full time since he was a young teenager. I didn’t even mention that, while he was working for the Goldeyes here after he had just moved to Winnipeg, he managed to finish university, where he studied business administration. If anyone would be interested in learning about business administration, with everything he has accomplished so far, Regan Katz could be the perfect teacher.
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Mamdani faces growing pressure over Jewish NYPD Commissioner Tisch and over Israel from left flank
(JTA) — New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani is facing increasing pressure from some on the leftmost flank of his voting coalition, and an ICE shooting Thursday led democratic socialist allies to add their voices to a major demand: dump police commissioner Jessica Tisch.
“The NYPD’s Strategic Response Group must be disbanded as quickly as possible, and Commissioner Tisch must step down,” said Darializa Avila Chevalier, who won her Democratic primary with Mamdani’s endorsement. The democratic socialist, who is expected to join Congress next year representing Upper Manhattan and parts of the Bronx, was referring to the heavily armed police department unit that often responds to protests.
The calls for Tisch’s removal follow strident criticism of the mayor from pro-Palestinian activists on Wednesday night who called him names, including “traitor” and “Ziohran,” when he showed up at an Oct. 7 Israeli peace vigil mourning the loss of both Jewish and Palestinian lives. The demonstrators assailed him for not doing more to advance the pro-Palestinian agenda that has long been central to his political beliefs, raising questions over whether he could lose parts of his base as he pledges to be a mayor for all New Yorkers.
The demand for Tisch’s removal came after an ICE agent shot and wounded a Dominican man in his car on Thursday afternoon while his 5-year-old son was in the back seat. Avila Chevalier, who joined protests against ICE on Thursday, wrote on X that the NYPD “spent more time protecting a militia that just shot someone than protecting New Yorkers.”
Mamdani’s decision last year to retain Tisch — a self-described “proud Zionist” who comes from a prominent Jewish family — was seen as a reassuring move by moderates and establishment Jewish organizations including UJA-Federation of New York and the Jewish Community Relations Council. (70 Faces Media, the parent company of the Jewish Telegraphic Agency and New York Jewish Week, receives UJA funding.)
A number of progressives were skeptical of the decision at the time, citing her background as an appointee of Mamdani’s predecessor, Eric Adams, and her past criticism of campus pro-Palestinian protests. Some viewed her as an impediment to criminal justice reform.
Meanwhile, some on the left have dinged him for not yet following through on campaign promises 10 months into his term, including dissolving the Strategic Response Group, or backing down from his vow to arrest Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, a plan which he later said he did not have the power to execute.
Anti-Zionist groups including Pal-Awda, Within Our Lifetime and a number of student organizations who rallied against Mamdani at the Oct. 7 vigil accused him of succumbing “to Zionist pressure.” Protesters called him a “traitor” and a number of chants rang out including, “Mayor Mamdani you can’t hide, we charge you with genocide,” drowning out speakers at the vigil and forcing the organizers to move it behind police barricades to keep the protesters from overrunning the event.
Among those protesters’ many gripes with the mayor was his decision to retain Tisch. One sign at the demonstration depicted Mamdani with the text, “Chief Executive of the NYPD SRG” with a Star of David in the middle, and a name tag on the mayor’s chest reading, “Ziohran.”
Criticism was also directed at Mamdani for not stopping Israeli real estate events at synagogues, and for his strategy to combat antisemitism, released last week, which allocates funds to a number of community-based organizations aimed at preventing hate crimes. Some critics have charged that some of the funding will aid Zionist organizations.
“The Jewish community is a large part of New York and it should be cherished. But you cannot fund these Anti-Defamation Leagues that prioritize Zionism over Judaism,” a John Jay College student protester, who declined to be named, told JTA during the demonstration.
On Thursday, the Democratic Socialists of America’s New York City chapter — which Mamdani has called his “political home” — wrote that Tisch “must end NYPD complicity with ICE” and that if she “cannot put a stop to these injustices, she must be fired.”
“Abolish ICE. Disband the SRG. Fire Tisch,” wrote Illapa Sairitupac, a fellow democratic socialist who won the Democratic nomination for a Lower Manhattan State Assembly district. Mamdani endorsed both Sairitupac and Avila Chevalier this past year.
While some protesters at the vigil said they were Mamdani voters — and one speaker even identified herself as a former intern for the now-mayor — some of the mayor’s allies have stressed that the crowd protesting him was not representative of his base.
“If I had to gamble, I would gamble that the vast majority of them were people who never supported him,” activist Abby Stein told JTA on Thursday night, during the Mazals gala held by left-wing group Jews for Racial & Economic Justice. Mamdani was due to attend the JFREJ event, but because of the ICE shooting was instead in the Bronx, where he denounced the federal agency and demanded that it cease its operations in New York City.
Many of the signs excoriating Mamdani at Wednesday’s protest outside of City Hall were signed with the name of the Maoist Communist Union, an organization that opposed Mamdani before he took office. Some protesters were handing out copies of Spartacist, the Trotskyist International Communist League’s journal.
“We certainly didn’t support Mamdani or vote for him,” said Erica Jones, among the Trotskyist protesters. “We knew he was running as a Democrat and he would be as big of a sellout as AOC and Bernie Sanders and all the rest of those who claim to have, at one time, stood for socialism but in reality, stand for the capitalist masters who are oppressing us all.”
Stein, a member of the DSA in addition to JFREJ, called out some of the protesters’ rhetoric and the choice to crash the Israelis for Peace Oct. 7 vigil. But she also acknowledged that there was overlap between their demands and her views, including over the police commissioner.
“There are things that people are upset over that I think are legit — like keeping Jessica Tisch on, for example,” Stein said. “A lot of us were not very happy about it.”
Ultimately, Stein said there is “always going to be something to protest” with any politician, and pointed to a quote from New York’s mayor in the 1970s and ‘80s, Ed Koch: “If you agree with me on 9 out of 12 issues, vote for me. If you agree with me on 12 out of 12 issues, see a psychiatrist.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Mamdani faces growing pressure over Jewish NYPD Commissioner Tisch and over Israel from left flank appeared first on The Forward.
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A planned non-Zionist Jewish school in Boston hopes to ride the momentum of the left
(JTA) — BOSTON — In the middle of a conversation about her future children, it dawned on Leah Robbins that the school she imagined for them did not exist.
Robbins envisioned a Jewish school where children studied Jewish texts, history and observance, as she did at the school run out of her Conservative synagogue in northern Florida. But having long ago rejected the allegiance to Israel that was entwined with her education, she could not fathom sending her children to a school that promoted Zionism — which ruled out all the Jewish day schools she knew.
“I was just overwhelmed with a sense of grief that my kids could be less Jewishly educated than I was,” Robbins, who has lived in Boston for 10 years, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. “I would never ever consider sending my kids to any of the local day schools because of total values misalignment.”
Four years after that conversation, Robbins is building her own institution for the children she hopes to have. She plans to open Achvat Olam, a “diasporist” day school whose name translates to “global solidarity” in Hebrew, in the Boston area in fall 2029. The school aims to launch with eight to 10 families, starting with a kindergarten and adding grade levels until ultimately becoming a K-8 school.
Achvat Olam is fiscally sponsored by Beloved Builders, a Massachusetts-based nonprofit that supports progressive Jewish projects. Robbins, who has a background in fundraising for Jewish nonprofits, hopes to raise $625,000 for the launch. She said she has met about 20 local families who expressed interest, and will start formal recruitment efforts, including focus groups and open houses, next year.
Achvat Olam will teach about Jewish history, cultures and languages outside of Israel, while engaging with Hebrew and Israel’s history from a non-Zionist perspective. The school’s website includes a page on “Israel/Palestine,” saying its community will share a belief that “the pursuit of justice, dignity, and thriving for all people is a Jewish moral imperative.”
“This includes an age-appropriate, honest confrontation with Zionism and the ongoing Nakba against the Palestinian people,” the website says, using the Arabic word for the displacement of over 700,000 Palestinians at the time of the State of Israel’s founding. The school also says that students will consider “the complicity and support of the US government and Diaspora Jews.”
Micah-Shalom Kesselman is the parent of a 4-year-old in Medford, Massachusetts, and participates in local left-wing Jewish groups such as the Boston Workers Circle. He’s disappointed that his son Oren will age out of Achvat Olam by the time it is scheduled to open as a kindergarten. “I would super want Oren to attend something like what Achvat Olam is shaping up to be,” he said.
Kesselman, who studies Yiddish with his son, explained that he would like Oren to be steeped in Jewish traditions and culture. But as a parent who is “not a supporter of Zionism,” he said he has found few Jewish educational opportunities that match his beliefs.
Diverse day school histories
Jewish day schools have historically encompassed a range of orientations toward Israel, according to Jonathan Krasner, a historian of American Jewish education at Brandeis University. The modern day school movement was born in the 1920s and initially dominated by orthodox schools, some of which did not emphasize Zionism. In the 1950s, secular Yiddishist schools taught varied attitudes toward Israel. Some yeshivas in the orthodox Haredi movement still today oppose Zionism on religious grounds, believing that Jewish sovereignty should only be established through the coming of the Messiah.
But Krasner could not name another day school that has Achvat Olam’s goal: education for Jewish families who disavow the current-day political realities of Israel and Zionism. In the aftermath of the Hamas attacks on Israel on Oct. 7, 2023, many day schools went the opposite direction, adding curricula to strengthen solidarity between Diaspora Jews and Israel.
“The initial response of the organized Jewish community was, understandably, to circle the wagons and to reinforce their connections to Israel and to the Israeli people,” Krasner said.
Jack Wertheimer, a professor of American Jewish history at the Conservative movement’s Jewish Theological Seminary, isn’t convinced that Achvat Olam will change that trend. He said he was “highly skeptical” that Robbins could attract enough families to sustain a school. According to historical data, he said, Jews who lean more politically left tend to be less engaged in Jewish life.
“From what I know, the overwhelming majority of parents who are interested in sending their children to Jewish day schools are pro-Israel,” said Wertheimer.
Nonetheless, Robbins believes that the market for her school is growing. Survey after survey has captured a drop in Americans’ support for Israel since the Gaza war, and Jews are not an exception to the trend. After decades of being treated as fringe in many of their communities, left-wing Jews who are anti-Zionist — or simply do not see Israel as part of their identity — say that instead of adapting to their congregations and Jewish schools, the institutions should adapt to them.
There are signs that this group makes up a substantial portion of Jews in the United States. About 30% of Jewish adults believe that Israel has committed genocide in Gaza, according to a June poll of 1,022 Jews from the Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research, which had a 5% error margin. Less than 40% said that “supporting Israel” was crucial to their Jewish identity.
Younger Jews emphasize traditions
At the same time, among adults who identified as religiously Jewish, younger people said they emphasized Jewish traditions more than their older counterparts. Younger Jews were more likely than older ones to say that “celebrating Jewish holidays” and “celebrating or marking Shabbat” were important to them, while Jews over 45 placed more emphasis on “remembering the Holocaust” and “supporting Israel” than younger ones.
This finding could reflect the growing share of younger Jews who are Orthodox. It also comes amid a boom in Jewish leftist organizations that explicitly ground their activism in religious tradition. IfNotNow, an anti-occupation group that has grown from 1,000 dues-paying members in 2023 to 7,000 this year, says it is “growing a community rooted in Jewish values and ritual.” The anti-Zionist Jewish Voice for Peace, which has amassed 32,000 dues-paying members, often frames its protests through Jewish holidays, texts and prayer.
Robbins is betting that a significant pool of younger Jews, many of them now parents to young children, are seeking avenues to both protect their Jewish traditions and reset their community’s relationship with Israel for the next generation. Instead of supporting Israel, Achvat Olam says that its students will learn a curriculum of “collective liberation at home, globally, and in Israel/Palestine.”
“This is a very experimental moment in Jewish history. The Jewish left is growing by leaps and bounds,” said Robbins, referencing estimates of dozens of anti-Zionist congregations and prayer groups sprouting across the country. “There is hunger for this.”
Boston is a hub for such new organizations. Since 2024, the city has hosted the Conference on the Jewish Left at Boston University, a gathering of left-wing Jewish scholars, students, activists and faith leaders. The first annual meeting drew 300 people, the second 700, and the third in February saw more than 900 participants. A poll of Greater Boston by Combined Jewish Philanthropies, the central fundraising arm of Boston’s Jewish community, found earlier this year that 38% of Jews aged 18 to 29 identified as “anti-Zionist,” and another 30% said they were “uncommitted” to Zionism or anti-Zionism.
Rabbi Greg Hersh left his congregation at Temple Emmanuel in Wakefield, north of Boston, in 2024. He said he became increasingly alienated from his congregants after Oct. 7. Hersh felt that the congregation, focused on supporting Israel and fighting antisemitism locally, did not share his anguish about the deaths of Palestinians.

Last year, Hersh founded V’ahavtah, a mostly Cambridge-based congregation devoted to “practicing Judaism beyond Zionism.” V’ahavtah joined Jews, like him, who felt uncomfortable with the norm of Israeli flags flying inside synagogues. Their Shabbat services regularly draw 30 to 40 people, numbers he said he never saw in Wakefield. He believes that is proof of growing demand for non-Zionist Jewish institutions.
“You take Israel out of the equation and the Jews will show up, and that’s what happened with V’ahavtah,” said Hersh. “My expectation is Achvat Olam is going to be very well poised to fill that void.”
On the ground, Robbins faces formidable obstacles to funding Achvat Olam. Jewish day schools struggle across the country to attract enrollment in the face of tuition that many families can’t afford, along with budgets strained by economic uncertainty and heightened spending to ward off security threats. Earlier this year, MetroWest Jewish Day School in Framingham, a suburb of Boston, shuttered and said that its “model of highly individualized Jewish day school education is no longer sustainable.”
Heavy investments from local philanthropies have helped day schools offset high costs. Prizmah, a national network of 305 day schools, recently reported that it saw enrollment rise across denominations for the first time last year, thanks in large part to philanthropy.
But many groups that fund Jewish education hold values that are antithetical to Robbins’ — including CJP, which calls itself a “pro-Israel, Zionist organization.” Prizmah and CJP declined requests for comment from JTA.
The individual donors who fund Jewish schools also tend to be older, more conservative than Robbins and more motivated by support for Israel, according to Krasner.
“The people who are most likely to be in a financial position to support day schools with generous philanthropic gifts are demographically very different from the population that Leah is trying to attract,” he said.
Robbins admitted that funding challenges meant the success of Achvat Olam was not “any sort of inevitability.” But she believes there is inevitability to the political momentum that could drive families toward such a school. “Something I want to convey to people is that the train has already left the station,” she said. “There is no stemming the tide of the growth of the Jewish left.”
Robbins has turned to funding from left-wing organizations, which already siphon much of their resources to grassroots activism, legal defense and awareness campaigns.
“It can be hard to get in the face of people to make the case for something that requires long-game thinking,” she said. “I’m trying to make the case, when the last fire has been put out, what’s going to be left if we’re not building it right now?”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
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