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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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Can Jewish tradition help you stay sane when all your bosses are ‘idiots’?
Dear Bintel,
My work colleagues and I need your help. Does Jewish tradition have anything to say about how not to lose your mind when all your bosses are idiots?
Signed,
Losing It
Dear Losing It,
Proverbs 29:2 sums up the impact of bad leadership on morale better than I can: “When a wicked man rules, the people groan.” Believe me, I can hear you and your colleagues groaning in response to every ridiculous email and edict from your inept employers.
The Bible is also full of stories about individuals saddled with work they neither want nor enjoy. Jeremiah is a reluctant prophet ordered to deliver messages nobody wants to hear. Jonah also pointed out the futility of his assignment, saying, essentially, “Why should I tell everyone they’re evil when they won’t listen?” Meanwhile, Moses tries to talk God out of giving him the task of leading the Jews out of Egypt.
And what does the Talmud have to say about all this? The sages portray pushback not as insubordination, but as part of the fundamental relationship between Jews and God: We have a responsibility to demand justice and challenge authority.
But how do you do it without getting fired? Speaking truth to power is an art. Nathan the prophet did it with panache: He got King David to see the error of his ways by relating a parable. When David noticed that the man in Nathan’s tale had transgressed, Nathan said to David, “You are the man!”
Now, I’m not saying your work life will improve if you tell your terrible bosses a story in which the villains are thinly veiled versions of themselves. Nor am I suggesting that you must endure 20 years of servitude, like Jacob did, in order to get some sheep and the woman of your dreams, or that you should argue about every single thing you’re asked to do, as did Moses.
But here’s an oft-quoted Talmudic saying that expresses one of Judaism’s guiding principles, and I think it’s relevant to your work-life quandary: “It is not up to you to complete the task, but neither are you free to avoid it.”
In other words, you aren’t responsible for fixing everything that’s wrong with your job. But you are required to make an effort.
What might that look like? How about cheerfully encouraging adherence to best practices by offering evidence-based recommendations? Or matter-of-factly questioning a pointless policy — without pointing fingers — by simply showing that it’s hurting the bottom line or creating delays?
Now I wouldn’t want you to get on the bosses’ bad side or put yourself in the firing line in the course of offering criticism veiled as new ideas. To help your cause, enlist trusted colleagues to backread that email before you send it, or ask others to jointly request a meeting to propose a new approach to something you’re aching to improve.
What if your suggestions and complaints go unheeded? The Talmud tells of a rabbi who predicts that those on the receiving end of his protests “will not accept the rebuke from me.”
Do it anyway, is the response: “Even though they will not accept it, the Master should rebuke them.”
Consider, too, this beautiful precept from the great philosopher Maimonides: “Each of us should see ourselves as if our next act could change the fate of the world.” Meaning that every small choice you make as you carry out your duties — rendering a compliment to an overwhelmed work friend, making a correction without judgment, sharing a shortcut with the team or listening to a colleague’s frustration — matters.
I truly believe that part of how we maintain our sanity in the face of incompetence or evil is by standing up for our own values, even when it seems pointless. If you subscribe to the notion that every righteous act we perform, no matter how small, contributes to repairing our broken world, and if you can truly believe in the power of individual good deeds, it will go a long way toward restoring your peace of mind.
Peace of mind can also come from the time-honored Jewish tradition of kibbitzing. If you don’t already have an online group on WhatsApp or Discord where you and your coworkers can kvetch as well as support each other away from the bosses’ gaze, start one. If your work is in-person, in the office, rather than remote, invite a couple of colleagues out for a beer or coffee or a meetup in the park.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t also serve up this oft-quoted Talmudic nugget: “A person should love work and not hate it.” The ancient rabbis believed work not only supports one’s material needs, but also provides dignity and self-worth — or so it should. If it’s impossible for you to love your work given your current situation; if you can’t bear the thought of sticking it out the way Jacob did; and if you don’t feel motivated enough to push back one small act at a time, as Maimonides advised, well then, you could always go all out and confront those idiotic bosses head on.
Of course, if you do that, they might hand you your walking papers. Then again, maybe being forced to look for a new job isn’t the worst thing that could happen given your disdain for your situation. Maybe you’re thinking of quitting anyway — and maybe that’s not a bad idea. As a more contemporary Jewish sage, Bob Dylan, once said, “All you can do is do what you must.”
Signed,
Bintel
What do you think? Send your comments to bintel@forward.com or send in a question of your own.
This is Beth Harpaz’s final column for Bintel Brief. She managed and wrote for the column from 2022 to 2025.
The post Can Jewish tradition help you stay sane when all your bosses are ‘idiots’? appeared first on The Forward.
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Anti-Hamas Militias Vow to Continue Fight in Gaza as Israel Stands Firm on Disarmament, Turkey’s Post-War Role
The head of an anti-Hamas faction, Hussam Alastal, fires a weapon in the air as he is surrounded by masked gunmen, in an Israeli-held area in Khan Younis, in the southern Gaza Strip, in this screenshot taken from a video released Nov. 21, 2025. Photo: Hussam Alastal/via REUTERS
Anti-Hamas groups in Gaza have vowed to continue fighting the ruling Palestinian terrorist group despite the recent killing of their most prominent commander, reporting new recruits as Hamas continues to resist mounting international pressure to disarm.
Ghassan al-Dahini, successor to Yasser Abu Shabaab in Gaza’s Popular Forces, pledged to continue Abu Shabaab’s project and resist Hamas by establishing an alternative to the group’s rule, after his predecessor and confidant died last week while mediating an internal dispute within the group.
Dahini described Abu Shabab’s death as a “grave loss,” saying his followers would “continue on this path and move with the same strength and even more strength.”
“I assure all who support the goals of the Popular Forces that our position is strong and that, God willing, we will become the most powerful force,” he told Israel’s Channel 14.
Abu Shabab, a Bedouin tribal leader based in Israeli-held Rafah in southern Gaza, had led one of the most prominent of several small anti-Hamas groups that emerged in the enclave during the war that began more than two years ago.
Following his death, Hamas said in a statement that the fate of anyone who “betrayed their people and homeland and agreed to be an instrument in the hands of the occupation [Israel]” was inevitable, accusing Abu Shabab of “criminal acts” that amounted to a “flagrant deviation from national and social consensus.”
In an attempt to exploit the situation, the terrorist group gave militants a 10-day ultimatum to surrender in exchange for promises of amnesty, according to Israel’s Channel 12 and reports on social media.
Abu Shabab’s death would appear to be a boost for Hamas, which had branded him a collaborator and ordered its fighters to kill or capture him.
Shortly after the US-backed ceasefire to halt fighting in Gaza took effect in October, Hamas moved to reassert control over the war-torn enclave and consolidate its weakened position by targeting Palestinians who it labeled as “lawbreakers and collaborators with Israel.”
Since then, Hamas’s brutal crackdown has escalated dramatically, sparking widespread clashes and violence as the group moves to seize weapons and eliminate any opposition.
Social media videos widely circulated online show Hamas members brutally beating Palestinians and carrying out public executions of alleged collaborators and rival militia members.
Following Abu Shabab’s death, Hossam al-Astal, commander of the Counter Terrorism Strike Force, another anti-Hamas faction in Khan Younis, said his group would join forces with the Popular Forces, adding that both leaders had “agreed the war on terror will continue.”
“Our project, new Gaza … will move ahead,” al-Astal told Reuters.
The militia commander had previously told The Algemeiner in late October that his group and three allied militias, including Abu Shaba’s group, had coordinated in recent weeks to secure areas vacated by Hamas. He explained that the four Israel-backed militias fighting Hamas were moving to fill the power vacuum, pledging to cooperate with most international forces involved in rebuilding the enclave but vowing to resist any presence from Qatar, Turkey, or Iran, all of which have supported Hamas for years.
For its part, Hamas vowed to keep pursuing collaborators “until this phenomenon is eradicated.”
They “are protected by the occupation army in the areas where these forces are present, which makes it difficult for the security apparatuses,” Hamas spokesperson Hazem Qassem told Reuters.
Meanwhile, as Hamas tries to avoid disarmament and rejects international calls to surrender its weapons, Israel continues to maintain a firm stance, vowing that the Islamist group “will be disarmed” under US President Donald Trump’s peace plan.
Senior Hamas leader Khaled Mashal said the group is open to a temporary weapons “freeze” but rejects the demand for full disarmament outlined in the US-backed ceasefire deal.
“The idea of total disarmament is unacceptable to the resistance,” the terrorist leader said in an interview with Qatari media outlet Al Jazeera on Wednesday.
“What is being proposed is a freeze, or storage [of weapons] … to provide guarantees against any military escalation from Gaza with the Israeli occupation,” he continued.
Instead of immediately surrendering its weapons, as stipulated in the ceasefire deal, Hamas is proposing a long-term ceasefire of up to ten years and a freeze on its arsenal, provided that Israel fully withdraws from Gaza “and ends its campaign of extermination.”
According to a Hamas official cited by Palestinian media, the group will prevent any attacks on Israel during the proposed extended truce, which also calls for significant reconstruction efforts and expanded humanitarian aid in the war-torn enclave.
However, Israel has upheld its hardline position, rejecting Hamas’s proposals and declaring that “there will be no future for Hamas” under Trump’s 20-point peace plan.
“The terror group will be disarmed, and Gaza will be demilitarized,” an Israeli government official told AFP on Thursday.
Under phase one of Trump’s peace plan, Hamas was required to release all remaining hostages, both living and deceased, who were kidnapped by Hamas-led Palestinian terrorists during the group’s invasion of and massacre across southern Israel on Oct. 7, 2023.
In exchange, Israel freed thousands of Palestinian prisoners, including many serving life sentences, and partially withdrew its military forces in Gaza to a newly drawn “Yellow Line,” roughly dividing the enclave between east and west. The Israeli military controls 53 percent of Gazan territory, while Hamas is cracking down on the remaining 47 percent, where the vast majority of the population is located.
The second stage of the peace plan is supposed to establish an interim administrative authority, a so-called “technocratic government,” deploy an International Stabilization Force (ISF) to oversee security in Gaza, and begin the demilitarization of Hamas.
As the international community moves to implement phase two of the ceasefire deal, Turkey has continued to push to join the multinational task force and play a role in postwar Gaza, as Ankara seeks to expand its influence in the region — a move experts warn could potentially bolster Hamas’s terrorist infrastructure.
However, Israel has consistently opposed any role for Turkish security forces in postwar Gaza, reportedly creating a point of tension with Washington, which appears receptive to Ankara’s request.
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This Hanukkah, my synagogue is illuminating our walls with relics of our Jewish immigrant stories
(JTA) — Outside of the social hall on the second floor of my synagogue, the historic Society for the Advancement of Judaism on West 86th Street in Manhattan, a modest yet elegant new exhibition adorns the wall. Fitted within vintage frames are the figures and faces of people from long-ago and far-away places; each portrait a story, brimming with unique details.
But these are no generic photos in the public domain, this is no faux vintage display. Instead, the photos are family portraits belonging to members of my congregation, the result of our year-long project, “How We Got Here: Honoring Our Immigrant Forebears.” The gathering of these photos — only a small fraction of which were collected and will be published in a beautiful limited edition volume — was an ambitious undertaking, a project that took over a year and required the involvement of a professional staff and curator.
As I prepare for the grand opening of this exhibition on the fourth night of Hanukkah, the Jewish Festival of Lights, I have a message for New York’s clergy and houses of worship: If you want to truly illuminate your sanctuaries, making them vibrant, alive and meaningful, begin by honoring your congregation’s immigrant past with a tangible photo and story project. What better way is there to remind our congregations, the people of our city, to be there for today’s next generation of immigrants?
St. Patrick’s Cathedral did just this in a colorful and glorious manner, commissioning its largest-ever artwork that pays homage to New York City’s immigrant past. The vivid panels of the work by Adam Cvijanovic focus on the arrival of Irish immigrants in the 19th century and the contributions they have made to this city, juxtaposing their stories with those of more contemporary and diverse immigrant groups. Every day of the week, visitors to the cathedral come face to face with this very human aspect of its history, previously uncelebrated. Cvijanovic’s murals enhance the meaning of a house of worship.
For our synagogue’s project, we hired Rachael Cerrotti, an award-winning author, podcaster, educator, and curator who works with family history, inherited memory and personal archives. She was able to guide us in our quest for material objects and stories. She and her husband, T.J. Kirkpatrick, designed our exhibition and our commemorative book.
Rachael elevated our pursuit from the provincial to the global, inspiring us to see that our best path forward begins by stepping into our recent past. As we remember and celebrate how we got here we become more empathic to those making similar journeys today.
To celebrate, we will be hosting a party with traditional Hanukkah treats and live music and inviting guests to share their own family immigrant stories with us.
But why undertake such a project in a house of worship? Why not a school, a community center or simply in the privacy of one’s home?
Because houses of worship are places that have staff with community-building skills; it is in the DNA of churches, mosques, synagogues and temples to welcome worshippers, making them feel like they are part of a whole. This study of our backgrounds, of the stories we share as immigrants to New York, is part of our creating those bonds.
What better place to encourage people to learn and share their own immigrant history, digging out the details of who came when, from where and why? While being “in the moment” is a value we cherish, it is also important to remember that we all come from somewhere, that we did not spring forward from Amsterdam Avenue, Orchard Street or East 72nd Street; that our ancestors are part of our story and inform who we are today.
We know that the surest way to cultivate security in children is to make sure they have solid roots. So too with a house of worship. When everyone in a congregation undertakes their own “roots” research, then the community itself becomes firmly planted, with stories blossoming like ripe and delicious fruit.
There is more: knowing our own stories and the stories of our worship community reminds us of immigrant struggle and helps us understand that the people arriving today have similar stories and the same needs. Regardless of propaganda, they are not immigrants of lesser worthiness. Our ancestors likely faced similar prejudices, bias and suspicion.
Making the decision to help today’s immigrants is a blessing precisely because they are our grandmothers and grandfathers. They are our parents. They are us.
In a political social climate that is hostile to newly-arrived Americans, it is critical for us to do this work publicly, to share it on our walls and tell our stories to the next generations.
Finally, knowing where we came from, meeting our parents, grandparents and far-distant relatives who arrived on the shores of this country yearning to breathe free infuses us with pride and with true patriotism.
It restores us to the authentic meaning of what it means to love our country, a nation built on the promise of being a place of refuge for all peoples.
Shira Dicker contributed to this essay.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of JTA or its parent company, 70 Faces Media.
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