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Converting to Judaism has defined my high school experience
This article was produced as part of JTA’s Teen Journalism Fellowship, a program that works with Jewish teens around the world to report on issues that affect their lives.
(JTA) — During the pandemic, my mom decided to start baking; my friend Reagan learned Osage, a Native American language; my brother taught himself how to skateboard.
I decided to channel my free time and energy into converting to Judaism.
Growing up in the Bible Belt, I was only ever exposed to Christian theology. Almost everyone around me was a Baptist. Although my parents intentionally raised my brother and me without a focus on religion, I grew up going to Christian preschool, Christian summer camps, and being surrounded by other Christians–just because there weren’t other options. While this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, I always knew that Christianity wasn’t right for me.
At first, the idea of eternal life and an all-knowing God provided comfort, but as I got older I started to feel disconnected from Christianity. Concepts like the Holy Trinity never made sense to me, and by age 12 I thought I had given up on religion entirely.
I first started looking into Judaism towards the end of 2020. I’m not really sure what led me to this; I just stumbled upon it and found that its emphasis on making the ordinary holy, repairing the world, and the pursuit of knowledge was a perfect fit for my already existing beliefs. My parents were a little bit shocked but ultimately supportive when I told them that I wanted to convert. My mom’s main concern was that I would become the target of antisemitism. “I’m happy for you and try not to think about the what-ifs,” she said while driving me to the Jewish community center so that I could board the bus headed to the BBYO Jewish youth group’s International Convention.
In the spring of 2021, I emailed the rabbi at a local synagogue about my potential conversion. During our first conversation, he asked me if I’d heard about the custom of rabbis turning away potential candidates three times. I told him I had, but that if he turned me away I would just keep coming back. After the meeting, I signed up for conversion classes and started attending services regularly — and I wasn’t alone.
According to a 2021 Tablet survey, 43% of American rabbis are seeing more conversion candidates than before. The reasons for conversion are diverse. Some candidates fell down an internet rabbit hole that led to a passion for Judaism. Others took an ancestry test and wanted to reconnect with their Jewish heritage. Many were raised as Reform Jews but weren’t Jewish according to stricter halachic, or Jewish legal, standards and decided to convert under Conservative or Orthodox auspices. Despite the common stereotype that Jews by choice must be converting for the sake of marriage, many rabbis said that converts are less likely than ever to be converting for a Jewish partner.
After meeting with a rabbi about the potential conversion, candidates are expected to learn everything they can about Judaism. In my case, that meant 21 weeks of hour-long, weekly conversion classes in addition to independent study on Jewish mysticism, traditions, and ideas. Candidates are also expected to become active members of their local Jewish community and attend services regularly.
Once the candidate and the rabbi feel they are ready to convert, a beit din, or a court usually made up of three rabbis, is assembled. They will conduct an interview, asking the candidate about what brought them to Judaism and basic questions about what was taught during conversion classes. When the beit din has guaranteed that the candidate genuinely wants to convert, the candidate immerses in the mikveh, a pool used for ritual purification. After submerging in the mikveh, the convert is considered to be officially Jewish and is typically called up for an aliyah, ascending the platform where the Torah is read.
According to Rabbi Darah Lerner, who served in Bangor, Maine before her retirement last year, the main difference between teens converting alone and teens converting with their family is the parental approval that’s needed, but otherwise the process is very similar. “I treated them pretty much as I did with adults,” she said. For me, the only parental approval needed was my mom telling my rabbi that she and my dad were fine with me starting the conversion process. She also noted that it was easier for teens to integrate into the Jewish community because people were excited to see young people interested in Judaism.
A mikveh, like this one at Mayyim Hayyim outside of Boston, is a ritual pool where Jews by choice immerse as part of the conversion process. (Courtesy Mayyim Hayyim)
She said that the Jewish community gave the teens a place where they could ask questions and not be shut down. “If they have a pushback, or a curiosity, or a problem we allow them to ask it and we give them real answers or resources,” she said.
“I feel extremely privileged when youth come to me with these questions and these desires,” Rabbi Rachael Jackson, from Hendersonville, North Carolina. Jackson has worked with three teens in the conversion process over the past two years. Like Lerner, she doesn’t require teens to wait until they turn 18 to begin the conversion process. However, it’s not unusual for rabbis to recommend that teens wait until they turn 18 to begin their conversion.
My conversion process has defined my high school experience. I’ve been able to connect with other Jews at my school through BBYO, which has helped me find a community at school and meet people who I might not have met otherwise. Although it’s made me feel farther from the Christian community I was once a part of, Judaism has given me spiritual fulfillment, a love for Israel, and a sense of community — both in my synagogue and my BBYO chapter.
Others who have gone through the process feel much the same way. “I wouldn’t even recognize myself,” said Haven Lail, 17, from Hickory, North Carolina. “My whole personality is based on being Jewish. That’s what I love.” Adopted into a Jewish family at age 12, Lail felt drawn to Judaism because of the loving and accepting community she found.
Raised as a nondenominational Christian, Lail attended church regularly with her biological parents, but not for the religious aspect. “It was all hellfire and brimstone,” she said. Neglected by her birth parents, she only went to church because she knew there would be food there.
Lail started the conversion process at age 12 through a Hebrew high school, and four years later, she submerged in the mikveh and signed a certificate finalizing her conversion. The process was simple, but she was shocked that so few Jews knew about the conversion process. “It was a little weird,” she said.
The Talmud says that because “the Jewish people were themselves strangers, they are not in a position to demean a convert because he is a stranger in their midst.” However, it isn’t uncommon for converts to feel alienated from the rest of the Jewish community. “There’s this fear of going to college and still being othered because you still won’t quite fit in with the people who have been raised Jewish,” said one high school senior from North Carolina.
He was shocked by how alienated he felt after making his conversion public, and wanted to stay anonymous because he worries that once people find out that he converted, they’ll see him differently. “I didn’t ever really explain it to anybody except for the people really close to me,” he said. But after his rabbi called him up for an aliyah — a blessing recited during the reading of the Torah — one woman from the congregation began to bring it up to him every time she saw him. “People don’t realize that it can be a touchy thing and very, very othering,” he said.
I usually don’t mind personal questions about my conversion, but asking someone why they converted or pointing out that someone is a convert is frowned upon by Jewish law. I used to feel like everyone could tell that I wasn’t raised Jewish, but after one of my BBYO advisors thought that my conversion was just a rumor and couldn’t believe that it was true, I realized that wasn’t the case.
All of my friends and peers who were raised Jewish have memories of Jewish summer camps, Shabbat dinners with family, and a lifetime of other experiences. I often struggle with not feeling “Jewish enough” or like I missed out, especially because so many Jewish customs revolve around the home and family. My parents will often come with me to Shabbat services, but don’t participate in Jewish customs or celebrate Jewish holidays with me. “Anything that is a ritual in the home, they don’t really have the ability to have that autonomy,” said Rabbi Rachael Jackson of Agudas Israel Congregation in Hendersonville, North Carolina.
Grace Hamilton, a student at Muskingum University in New Concord, Ohio, has struggled with imposter syndrome during her conversion. Ever since she started college, she’s been questioning her place in the Jewish community and hasn’t been practicing Judaism as much as she used to. “I haven’t prayed in a really long time,” she said. She used to tell herself that once she finalized her conversion she would finally feel Jewish enough, but after a conversation with her rabbi, she realized that wasn’t the case.
According to Rabbi Rochelle Tulik at Temple B’rith Kodesh in Rochester, New York, many converts feel like they will never be Jewish enough. “That, no matter how hard they try, how many books they read or put on their shelves, no matter how often they come to services, or how many menorahs they light, somehow they’ll be caught,” she said in a Rosh Hashanah sermon she named “You Are Not an Imposter.”
Despite the struggles that many converts face, others like Rabbi Natasha Mann, who now serves as a rabbi at New London Synagogue in England, immediately felt at home within the Jewish community. “I felt like people were excited to have me there and wanted to hear what I had to say,” she said. After a family member mentioned that she might have Jewish ancestry, Mann began exploring out of curiosity. “I started looking into it, just because I felt that it was another piece of the puzzle,” she said.
Coming from an interreligious and intercultural family, she wanted to explore another aspect of her heritage, but ended up connecting with Judaism in a way that she hadn’t connected with any other religion. After two years of study, she decided to officially start her conversion process.
The Jewish community gave Mann a place where her ideas were taken seriously and she could have religious discussions, even as a teen. “I don’t know what my life would have looked like if I hadn’t found somewhere to really express and delve into that,” she said. “And luckily, I never have to.”
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Massie Ousted From Congress, Makes Antisemitic Jab in Concession Speech
US Rep. Thomas Massie (R-KY) leaves a meeting of the House Republican Conference in the US Capitol on Wednesday, June 4, 2025. Photo: Tom Williams/CQ Roll Call/Sipa USA via Reuters Connect
US Rep. Thomas Massie was defeated in Tuesday’s Republican primary by Trump-backed challenger Ed Gallrein in a closely watched race in Kentucky widely viewed as a referendum on party loyalty and US support for Israel.
In his concession remarks, Massie drew immediate attention when he said he had to “find Ed Gallrein in Tel Aviv” to concede, a remark widely interpreted as a reference to what he and his supporters have described as substantial pro-Israel backing for Gallrein’s campaign.
“I would’ve come out sooner, but I had to call my opponent and concede. And it took a while to find Ed Gallrein in Tel Aviv,” Massie said.
Gallrein, a retired Navy SEAL and political newcomer, garnered approximately 54.9 percent of the vote compared to Massie’s 45.1 percent, emerging victorious by nearly a 10-point margin. With the defeat, Massie will depart Congress at the conclusion of his 7th term.
Gallrein was endorsed by US President Donald Trump and benefited from significant support from pro-Israel donors and aligned advocacy networks. The race attracted national attention, with Trump-aligned groups and conservative super PACs spending roughly $19 million in support of Gallrein’s campaign. For many observers, Gallrein’s victory underscores both Trump’s continued influence in Republican primaries and the party’s generally unified stance on Israel policy.
Massie, long one of the most independent voices in the House Republican Conference, had frequently broken with GOP leadership on foreign policy issues, including US military aid to Israel, funding for the Iron Dome missile defense system, and the Iran war. Massie also drew criticism from pro-Israel groups for opposing aid packages, skipping Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s address to Congress, and accusing Israel of targeting civilian infrastructure during military operations in Gaza and Lebanon while omitting that terrorist organizations such as Hamas and Hezbollah embed military infrastructure within civilian areas.
Beyond issues of foreign policy, Massie also drew sharp criticism from Trump after he co-sponsored and pushed for legislation to release the Justice Department’s files related to the late financier and sex offender Jeffrey Epstein alongside prominent House Democrats, leading the president to frame Massie as a party disruptor and disloyal Republican.
The race unfolded amid growing tensions within the Republican Party over antisemitism, foreign policy, and support for Israel. Though older Republican voters continue to support Israel in substantial numbers, a growing number of polls indicate that younger Republican voters are far more skeptical of the US-Israel alliance, with many wanting to end aid to Israel and cease foreign military campaigns. Critics accused Massie of amplifying antisemitic rhetoric within segments of the Republican coalition by engaging in certain behaviors, such as making repeated appearances on the podcast of Tucker Carlson, a political pundit frequently accused by critics of promoting antisemitism.
In the days leading up to the election, Massie faced mounting criticism over a series of remarks and associations that Jewish organizations and pro-Israel activists condemned as antisemitic.
On Friday, he declared the election “a referendum on whether Israel gets to buy seats in Congress.”
Over the weekend, he invited antisemitic social media personality Ryan Matta to his home for a meet-and-greet event. He posed for a photo with Matta wearing a shirt emblazoned with the phrase “American Reich,” a direct reference to the Nazi regime. Massie has not commented on the incident or distanced himself from Matta.
Massie also came under fire over an advertisement released by a pro-Massie super PAC targeting billionaire Republican donor Paul Singer, a prominent Jewish supporter of pro-Israel causes who has backed efforts to defeat the incumbent. The ad characterized Singer as a “pro-trans billionaire” and displayed a rainbow-colored Star of David behind his image — imagery critics condemned as antisemitic.
Further, on Sunday, Massie lambasted the Republican Jewish Coalition (RJC), an organization that aims to increase the number of Jews within the Republican Party, accusing the group of using Gallrein as a “puppet” and claiming they are “running his race.”
Gallrein campaigned on a platform aligned closely with Trump’s foreign policy approach, emphasizing continued US security assistance to Israel and a more traditional Republican posture on Middle East policy. His campaign was boosted by outside groups and donors supportive of a strongly pro-Israel agenda.
The outcome reinforced the increasingly narrow political space within the GOP for lawmakers who break with Trump and the party’s dominant pro-Israel posture.
Once known for his libertarian-leaning independence, Massie increasingly found himself isolated as GOP voters and donors coalesced around candidates aligned with both Trump and pro-Israel priorities. The race also reflects a broader trend in Republican primaries, where alignment with Trump and with pro-Israel policy positions has become a key predictor for viability in many competitive districts.
In a statement, the RJC congratulated Gallrein and accused Massie of “trafficking in antisemitism and bottom-of-the-barrel nativism at a time when Jew-hatred is on the rise,” calling Massie’s conduct “wildly unacceptable and outrageous from an elected member of Congress.”
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Jewish Groups Call on US Congress to Combat Union Antisemitism in Health Care
Anti-Israel demonstration at Johns Hopkins University, which has one of the best medical schools in the world, in Baltimore, Maryland, US, April 30, 2024. Photo: Robyn Stevens Brody/SIPA USA via Reuters Connect
Jewish community advocates on Wednesday called on the US Congress to use its lawmaking power to stop health care unions from spreading antisemitism in the workplace through anti-Zionist advocacy, arguing unions have wasted resources and countenanced flagrant discrimination of Jews throughout the field of medicine.
Addressing the House Education and Workforce Subcommittee on Health, Employment, Labor, and Pensions, lawyers, health workers, and civil rights activists shared a stream of claims alleging that union bosses have effectively converted labor unions into political action committees for the anti-Zionist movement. The consequence, they argued, has been to embolden those who mistreat Jews as a “proxy” for Israel, leading to incidents of bigotry which would be decried were they perpetrated against other minority groups.
“The issue is not whether health care workers may hold political views,” Deena Margolies, litigation staff attorney for the Louis D. Brandeis Center for Human Rights Under Law, told the committee. “The problem arises when health care unions use their authority and resources to promote antisemitic campaigns outside their labor mission. Jewish and Israeli health care professionals are then placed in an impossible position: The union that is supposed to represent them is also helping to create the hostile work environment they must endure.”
Anti-Zionist union activity even affects patient care, Margolies added, noting that some mental health practitioners now offer services which they say can “decolonize” patients of pro-Zionist viewpoints. The enterprise is predicated on the idea that Zionism, which an overwhelming majority of Jews say is central to Jewish identity, is a pathology.
“Congress can and should act,” she said.
Dr. Jacob Agronin, a cardiology fellow at Temple University Hospital, told Congress that Jewish workers should have the right to permanently suspend payment of union dues.
“What I would hope for is the option for those that disagree with this union on a fundamental level not be compelled to pay dues to this union,” Agronin said. “I think it’s absurd that the union can call for blatant discrimination against Israeli colleagues and then compel those same colleagues to pay them.”
The Algemeiner has reported extensively on how a wave of antisemitism swept health care following Hamas’s Oct. 7, 2023, massacre across southern Israel. So widespread was the problem that it became the subject of a 2025 study which found that 62.8 percent of Jewish health care professionals employed by campus-based medical center reported experiencing antisemitism, a far higher rate than those working in private practice and community hospitals. Fueling the rise in hate, the study noted, were repeated failures of DEI (diversity, equity, and inclusion) initiatives to educate workers about antisemitism, increasing the likelihood of antisemitic discrimination.
Months earlier, the StandWithUs Data & Analytics Department found through its own survey that nearly 40 percent of Jewish American health care professionals have encountered antisemitism in the workplace, either as witnesses or victims. A substantial number of the 645 Jewish health workers who responded to its questions also said they were subject to “social and professional isolation,” and 26.4 percent felt “unsafe or threatened.”
Outside the US, the crisis of antisemitism in health care has manifested in medical settings around the world, including in South America, Australia, and across Europe.
As for union antisemitism, the subject continues to be a focus of Jewish civil rights activism.
Earlier this month, the Brandeis Center filed a civil rights complaint alleging that the National Education Association proliferated antisemitism across its interstate network of chapters, offices, and K-12 schools by systemically enacting policies which resulted in Jews being blocked from promotions, mentorship opportunities, and participation in social justice initiatives. The disturbing document went further, arguing that antisemitic discrimination at the NEA is more than an invisible, bureaucratic force which disappears Jews from governance roles. According to the complaint, it is a force applied by anti-Zionists who lead mobs against Jewish delegates attending union conferences; perpetrate acts of physical intimidation; and delete guidance on teaching students about the Holocaust from official documents.
“The NEA’s conduct is both completely illegal and morally unjustifiable,” Brandeis Center chairman and founder Kenneth Marcus said in a statement announcing the action. “This is exactly the type of discrimination against which Title VII was designed to protect.”
In New York City, the federal government is investigating reports that members of the United Federation of Teachers (UFT) are procuring students for membership in anti-Zionist study groups teaching that Israelis are “genocidal white supremacists” and that Hamas terrorists are “martyrs.” The initiative there is funded by a nonprofit titled “Rethinking Schools,” which itself has been a recipient of exorbitant financial gifts from the NEA.
Meanwhile, students at Columbia University recently escalated their fight against a graduate workers union dominated by anti-Israel advocates by filing a federal complaint with the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB).
The students allege that the bosses who run Student Workers of Columbia (SWC), an affiliate of United Auto Workers (UAW), devote more energy and resources to pursuing “radical policy proposals” than improving occupational conditions. In collective bargaining negotiations, it allegedly pressures the university to adopt the boycott, divestment, and sanctions (BDS) movement against Israel and to enact other measures, such as ending its partnership with the New York City Police Department (NYPD) and closing a dual-degree program with Tel Aviv University.
“All of this adds up to a union that is out of control, and I note that they don’t have an agenda against the mullahs in Iran, against the dictator who runs Turkey, against the Chinese communists who oppress their citizens or the North Koreans. But they have an agenda against Israel, the one democracy in the Middle East,” Glenn Taubman, staff attorney for the National Right to Work Foundation (NRTW), told The Algemeiner during an interview at the time.
Follow Dion J. Pierre @DionJPierre.
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Antisemitism in Germany Remains at Alarmingly High Levels, New Report Warns
Graffiti reading “Kill All Jews” was discovered on a residential building in Berlin-Pankow on April 26, 2026, part of a wave of antisemitic vandalism reported across the German capital over the past week, including swastikas and other hate-filled slogans scrawled on multiple sites. Photo: Screenshot
Germany is facing persistently high levels of antisemitism, with new data from Berlin and Hesse underscoring a hostile environment for Jews and Israelis marked by sustained harassment, violence, and intimidation.
On Wednesday, Germany’s Federal Association of Departments for Research and Information on Antisemitism (RIAS) published its latest annual report documenting 2,197 antisemitic incidents recorded in Berlin last year.
While this marked a drop of about 13 percent from the 2,521 incidents recorded in 2024, the figure was still more than double the level before the Hamas-led invasion of and massacre across southern Israel on Oct. 7, 2023, when roughly 1,200 cases were reported.
Amid an increasingly hostile climate, Jews and Israelis have been reporting growing reluctance to wear visible Jewish symbols, express their identity publicly, or even speak Hebrew in everyday settings.
“Everyday situations such as riding the subway or taking a taxi, or visiting concerts and cafés, often suddenly and unexpectedly became threatening,” RIAS wrote in its 88-page annual report.
Among the recorded cases were widespread harassment and antisemitic abuse, including repeated insults and intimidation, as well as vandalism targeting Jewish-owned businesses and institutions, and damage to memorials and residential areas.
The newly released report also documented 40 violent antisemitic incidents, warning of an increasingly aggressive and dangerous pattern of attacks.
One of the most serious cases involved an attempted murder at the Holocaust Memorial, where a young man was stabbed in the neck. Other incidents included victims being punched, shoved, spat on, having jewelry or clothing torn off, or being sprayed with pepper spray.
Berlin’s Jewish community also saw a surge in anti-Israel demonstrations last year, with 239 events marked by antisemitic slogans, inflammatory banners, rhetoric glorifying terrorism, denying Israel’s right to exist, and calls to “kill Jews.”
Sigmount Königsberg, antisemitism commissioner of Berlin’s Jewish community, warned that this growing trend of antisemitic violence has been increasingly downplayed or relativized, contributing to a climate in which victims feel less protected and less heard.
“Israel-related antisemitism is by far the most prevalent form of Jew-hatred we encounter,” Königsberg said, adding that “politics and society must ensure conditions in which all Jews feel safe.”
“Many in the community once believed Berlin was a safe place, but that has changed. I know of people who are now considering leaving the city, with life plans upended — especially young people who want to go,” he continued.
RIAS’s latest report also recorded a record-high total of 1,099 antisemitic incidents in the German state of Hesse, located in west-central Germany, in 2025.
With an average of three antisemitic incidents occurring each day, the report warned that the upward trend in Hesse continued to intensify.
This figure represented an increase of approximately 18 percent compared with the 926 incidents recorded in 2024 and was dramatically higher—nearly six times—than the 179 cases documented before the Oct. 7 atrocities.
Uwe Becker, the Hessian commissioner for antisemitism, warned of a deepening deterioration in the security situation for Jewish residents in the state.
“The threat to Jewish life is worse than at any time since the Holocaust,” Becker said in a statement.
According to RIAS’s latest report, those affected face a new level of intensity in antisemitic encounters, with 190 incidents recorded in educational settings such as schools and universities, alongside 84 cases on public transport and 52 in cultural and artistic venues.
“Antisemitic experiences carry far-reaching consequences, affecting not only individuals but also families and wider social circles. They shape everyday routines, future plans, and even decisions about whether it feels safe to take the S-Bahn in the evening,” the report stated.
Among the recorded cases were 27 physical assaults, 41 threats, 58 incidents of deliberate property damage, and 960 cases of offensive behavior.
RIAS project leader Susanne Urban warned that antisemitism has increasingly become normalized due to its consistently high frequency.
“Hesse has a problem. For Jews, full social participation is no longer possible,” she said in a statement.
Marc Grünbaum, chairman of the board of the Jewish community in Frankfurt, noted that antisemitism has increasingly gained ground as it is too often left unaddressed and met with insufficient public challenge.
“The fight against antisemitism must be a societal fight. The window of opportunity for Jewish life and for a liberal society in which minorities have their place is becoming increasingly narrow,” Grünbaum said in a statement.