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For many Jewish teens, COVID broke the synagogue habit
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) — Jordy Levy, 18, remembers sitting at the table with his family, enjoying a relaxed Shabbat dinner at his Atlanta home during the pandemic. There was no hassle of getting dressed up, no schlep to synagogue, just hanging out and spending time with his family. In the background, a Facebook livestream of his congregation’s Friday night services played.
This is a scene that has become largely familiar over the course of the pandemic. COVID-19 forced many synagogues to close their doors and move their services and programs to virtual platforms. Many synagogues saw overall engagement grow as a result of this shift.
And yet for many Jewish teens, Levy’s experience was the exception. The technology, which in some ways made connecting with synagogues more convenient, caused a loss of connection among teens that has lingered even now that most congregations are back in person.
“I know a lot of kids just stopped going to synagogue outright because with COVID-19 they were so used to not going,” said Jill Mankosky, 18, a member of the Conservative Agudas Achim Congregation in Alexandria, Virginia. “This year when the High Holiday services were in person again, I noticed a lot of my classmates who would have been there previously pre-COVID-19 were just not there anymore.”
Congregations are now at a crossroads, determining which direction they want to move in next as the world slowly transitions away from the pandemic.
“Return back to normal is a bad way to phrase it because there is really no normal,” said Maya Kamenske, 16, a member of Agudas Achim.
Especially for Conservative congregations like Kamenske’s, the switch to online prayer was a significant one. In 2001, the Conservative movement’s Jewish law committee prohibited counting someone participating in an online manner towards the prayer quorum, or minyan needed for communal prayer. Virtual services initially breached this decision, although the ruling was soon amended to allow virtual Shabbat services during the pandemic.
Teens Jaqui Drobnis, left, and Max Gordon, right, lead a Tu Bishvat seder with a group of first graders at Agudas Achim Congregation in Alexandria, Virginia. (Courtesy of Chaya Silver)
Virtual services increased accessibility by making it simpler for people who would otherwise struggle to be at the congregation to still participate. For example, Jonah Golbus, 17, said that there were times when he was unable to find a ride to his synagogue, Rodef Sholom in San Rafael, California. Now, he does not have to worry about that. Virtual services allow people more flexibility for participation, and can be squeezed more easily into schedules.
“Having [online] High Holiday services as an option for those who [either] can’t or don’t feel up to coming in person is a really good addition that I’m glad we’ve kept,” said Mankosky. “I’m hoping it continues because, for example, when I’m in college, I can’t come back for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services, but I’d still like to attend the services of [my] synagogue. Having an option to do them on Zoom from my dorm or something would be really helpful.”
Many synagogues saw a definite spike in participation and engagement of their members overall after implementing virtual services made participation simpler. This was not the case for teen programs, though. Many teens interviewed for this article reported that engagement dropped when it went digital.
Kira Rodriguez, a senior in high school and member of the Rodef Sholom congregation, tried to stay involved after Rodef Sholom went virtual, and attended a number of virtual activities for the first few months. Eventually, it just became too much.
“I was just so mentally exhausted from always being on Zoom,” said Rodriguez. “I couldn’t take another two hours of it [for the teen activities].”
Golbus, who struggled to find rides to Rodef Sholom, said that he was never really engaged on Zoom, so he did not attend any of the virtual programming during the pandemic. Now that he has friends who are in-person again, he has become more active in his congregation. Still, the events look different than they used to.
“It’s not as crowded as it used to be,” said Golbus. “There’s less people I know, so there’s less of an incentive on my end to go to these [activities].” He said that it is just less of a habit to go to temple now than it used to be before the pandemic, even if people are slowly reverting back to how it was.
The pandemic-related loss of in-person interactions damaged teens’ social connections within their congregations. While some teens returned to their congregations as they began to open back up, others never did.
Mankosky also blames the decline in participation to her and her peers starting high school and becoming increasingly busy. What is normally a period fraught with change for teens became, in many instances, even more challenging as COVID-19 took its toll. She is not alone in feeling more disconnected from her peers.
Teens from Congregation Rodef Sholom in San Rafael, California enjoyed a kayaking trip as a way to spend time together outdoors. (Courtesy of Rudy Brandt)
“I remember there was a really communal aspect to the congregation before. My religious school class [and I] were really really close. We often invited each other to our birthday parties outside of religious school, even though most of us didn’t even go to class together,“ said Jacob Bensen, 15, about Agudas Achim. ”It was almost like having a second family.” Now, he says, this has fallen to the wayside as the class has mostly lost touch since COVID-19. Most people haven’t put in the effort to reconnect since returning in-person.
Mila Einspruch, 16, had a different experience with Zoom during the pandemic. Prior to COVID-19, she said that she was on the track towards dropping all involvement with her congregation, Temple Sinai, in Oakland, California. With virtual school, Einspruch was unable to hang out with people as she had before. Her Reform congregation had a monthly Zoom club for eighth graders aimed at engaging and conversing. It was such an enjoyable experience that she became more involved in her congregation after it opened back up.
Yet even for those like Einspruch who returned, the community still feels different than it used to.
“Now, everything’s a little bit more fragmented,” said Einspruch. “The biggest thing that’s blocking people from coming [to temple] is just [that] those [social] connections are gone.”
Despite all of this, Rodriguez saw a spike in attendance following COVID-19 at her Reform congregation, Rodef Shalom, as there was a lot of initial excitement to be back in the building together. She said that faded within a couple of months as the initial novelty wore off. Now, there are odd gaps in ages between the teens. There are few freshmen and sophomores that show up, whereas the upperclassmen, like herself, are more likely to participate in activities. A few teens weighed in on why this is happening.
“It feels like there’s this gap of time where I would have started to get more involved after eighth grade into freshman year where there’s this transition of becoming older and going to those activities [beyond religious school], but then that’s when COVID-19 hit for me,” said Adina Golbus, 17, belongs to Rodef Sholom with her brother Jonah. “COVID-19 I think had a part in [me not going to as many activities] because it kind of prevented that transition period.”
All of the trips and activities planned to ease this transition were canceled, exacerbating the rate at which teens stopped being active members in their congregations. Einspruch had a similar experience with the lack of structure.
“Straight out of our bar and bat mitzvahs, there would have been some scaffolding and structure [to motivate teens] to join the teen program,” Einspruch said. COVID-19 dismantled that.
However, Rodriguez said that the number of middle schoolers, particularly seventh graders, has shot up. Einspruch saw the same at Temple Sinai. Neither could point to a reason for the engagement.
Rudy Brandt, the director of youth engagement at Congregation Rodef Sholom, said that the pandemic was particularly tough for teens, so her goal was to design a no-pressure model of youth engagement where teens were able to engage when and how they wanted. To do this, she offered activities across the spectrum, from Get Out the Vote efforts on Zoom to movie conversations to cooking. Much of this is still the case even in-person.
Rodriguez, who also belongs to the Rodef Sholom congregation, said that these programs were particularly successful with the younger teens, and could be a part of why there were so many of them. Despite this, the revamped programming has not seen the same effects with the older kids. In an attempt to communicate and connect more with teens, Brandt and her colleagues have grown their social media footprints.
“[It’s] just kind of meeting teens where they are, trying to put, you know, what’s happening in our spaces in their faces via social media,” Brandt said.
This greater presence has been somewhat successful at encouraging teens to participate in their various youth programs.
“There have been some events that I didn’t go to when I saw [the posts on social media] it was like, I kind of wish I went to that. Maybe I’ll go to the next one,” said Golbus.
Rodef Sholom is not the only congregation that has changed their youth programs to see more engagement. Chaya Silver, the youth director at Agudas Achim Congregation in Alexandria, Va., is currently working on developing a hybrid program for the religious school at her congregation, with the goal of making it more inclusive and flexible for students and their families.
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The post For many Jewish teens, COVID broke the synagogue habit appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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Why Mamdani remains focused on Israel as NYC mayor
When Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu spoke at the UN this week, New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani was there — not in body, but in spirit, having condemned the Israeli prime minister and previously encouraged protests against him.
As a leader in the Jewish community, I know that many American Jews oppose Netanyahu’s government. But many also believe strongly that Israel’s survival as a Jewish homeland is critically important. They, therefore, feel boxed in by the mayor: compelled by conscience to oppose Israel’s leader and to condemn Mamdani’s repeated attacks on Israel’s existence, many of which they find offensive and dangerous.
Because of my previous work for Mayor Bloomberg, I am often asked by Jewish community members why this mayor so frequently puts them in this painful bind. The answer, I believe, lies in motivations worth understanding more clearly.
Of course, Mamdani’s focus on Israel seems partially motivated by principle. He clearly thinks Israel is illegitimate and opposes how it defends itself. I take him at his word that these convictions are sincere. But sincerity still does not explain his single-mindedness. A mayor willing to absorb this much political friction must see some benefit. But what?
To understand, let’s reexamine the 2025 election, often described as a “political tsunami.” The facts, however, are more complicated. Mamdani did defeat his closest opponent by nearly 10%, but in so doing he secured under 51% of the total vote – against a flawed and divided opposition. Viewed this way, his impressive margin seems less sweeping and much narrower.
More important than his electoral margin, though, is the coalition that produced it. His victory rested heavily on three blocs: self-identified very liberal voters; and Muslim and South Asian voters, who turned out in historic numbers. South Asian and Indo-Caribbean turnout, for example, rose 350% between 2021 and 2025, with 87% of South Asian votes going to Mamdani. Analyzing available data, I believe that, taken together, these three blocs accounted for well over 50% of all Mamdani votes.
What makes this coalition intriguing is that it consists of such strange bedfellows. The blocs differ sharply on many key local issues. On same-sex marriage, PRRI’s American Values Atlas found 33% support among Muslim-Americans in 2024, with support among very liberal Americans substantially higher. The divergence is similarly stark on policing, education, and many other policies.
In fact, it is hard to identify many things uniting these blocs besides this candidate: a skilled politician speaking the language of the left, while activating Muslim and South Asian voters just as Mayors Bloomberg and Koch activated Jewish voters and Mayors Adams and Dinkins activated Black voters.
Which brings us back to Israel.
When one barely ekes out a majority against flawed opponents, and one’s coalition is fundamentally misaligned, one must find ways to hold it together. To this end, Mamdani seems to be taking a page from Donald Trump. When Trump’s coalition buckles, he reaches for a “shiny distraction” — attacks on the press; trade wars; threatened invasions of Greenland. For Trump, the specifics are almost irrelevant; what matters is the theater of conflict and the distraction it produces.
For Mamdani, his Greenland is Israel.
Yes, it is a subject on which he holds sincere convictions. But, more importantly, it is one of few issues on which his coalition agrees. His relentless focus on Israel — to the exclusion of other worthy targets, including grave human rights offenders across South Asia and the Muslim world — is no accident. It is a political calculation allowing him to don the mantle of moral crusader while keeping his coalition on-side and united.
For those who believe Mamdani’s politics pose a danger to the Jewish community and want to slow his political momentum, this analysis yields two insights.
First, trying to persuade the mayor to soften his Israel attacks is unlikely to succeed. Doing so is not his inclination or in his political interests.
Second, and maybe more interestingly, Mamdani has a vulnerability that he seems to recognize – a fragile coalition. Allowing Mamdani to
make Israel his “shiny distraction” and engaging him on it plays his game. A different approach would be to defend Israel as-needed, but focusing efforts on pressing Mamdani to do his job – for example, elevating important issues, such as specialized high school admissions practices, on which his coalition happens to be divided.
The upshot? When smart politicians do things that seem politically risky, they usually see something others do not. Mamdani’s Israel focus offers a case-in-point. Those looking to respond should consider resisting the temptation to take the bait when possible. The wiser strategy is to engage under different rules: defending Israel when necessary, then pivoting to the difficult local issues from which Israel is meant to distract.
The post Why Mamdani remains focused on Israel as NYC mayor appeared first on The Forward.
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New voices in Yiddish: A prose and poetry contest
לכּבֿוד דעם 85סטן יאָר זינט מע האָט פֿאַרלייגט דעם ייִדישן זשורנאַל „אױפֿן שװעל“, וועט די אָרגאַניזאַציע וואָס שטיצט דעם זשורנאַל, די „ייִדיש־ליגע“, דורכפֿירן אַ קאָנקורס פֿון נײַע ייִדיש־שפּראַכיקע לידער און פּראָזע.
אַ זשורי פֿון אָפּגעקליבענע מומחים וועט אָפּשאַצן די אַרבעטן, און די דרײַ בעסטע פֿון ביידע קאַטעגאָריעס וועלן באַלוינט ווערן מיט געלטפּרעמיעס.
די פּראָזע־שאַפֿונגען קענען זײַן ביז 2,500 װערטער, און אַלע אַרײַנגעשיקטע מאַטעריאַלן מוזן זײַן נאָך נישט קיין געדרוקטע. דער טערמין אַרײַנצושיקן די שריפֿטן איז דער 31סטער אָקטאָבער 2026.
די געווינער-ווערק, און בכלל אַן אָפּקלײַב פֿון די אַרײַנגעשיקטע שאַפֿונגען, וועט מען אויך דרוקן אין דעם יובֿל-נומער. „זאָלן אונדזערע לייענערס געניסן פֿון נײַע ליטעראַרישע שאַפֿונגען אויף מאַמע-לשון!“ האָט די שעף־רעדאַקטאָרין פֿון „אויפֿן שוועל“, מרים טרין, געזאָגט.
די שריפֿטן שיקן מען דורך בליצפּאָסט צו info@leagueforyiddish.org.
The post New voices in Yiddish: A prose and poetry contest appeared first on The Forward.
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Jewish languages meet in Birobidzhan
אויף אַן אינטערנאַציאָנאַלן ייִדישן קולטור־פֿעסטיוואַל לעצטנס אין ביראָבידזשאַן האָט מיך, ווי אַ ייִדישיסט, באַזונדערס פֿאַרחידושט די אינערלעכע ייִדישע פֿיל־שפּראַכיקייט.
דער „אינטערנאַציאָנאַלער פֿעסטיוואַל פֿון ייִדישער קולטור און קונסט“ איז פֿאָרגעקומען פֿונעם 6טן ביזן 9טן סעפּטעמבער.
מיט איינעם פֿון די געסט, הרבֿ עובֿדיה איסאַקאָוו, האָב איך לאַנג געשמועסט וועגן זײַן אייגענער ייִדישער שפּראַך — דזשוהורי, אַ שפּראַך ענלעך אויף פּערסיש. מיט אַנדערע געסט, דרײַ טוניסער ייִדן, וואָס וווינען אין ישׂראל, האָבן מיר גערעדט וועגן זייער מאַמע־לשון, אַ ייִדישן מין אַראַביש. דערצו האָט אַ זינגער און כּלל־טוער, אליעזר (איגאָר) דאַבאַקאַראָו, מיר געזאָגט אַז ער איז אויפֿגעוואַקסן אין סאַמאַרקאַנד, אוזבעקיסטאַן, רעדנדיק אויף בוכאָרי — פּערסיש מיט אַ ייִדישן טעם.
אויף עטלעכע אונטערנעמונגען האָט מען אויך געזונגען לידער אויף העברעיִש. בעת דער שבתדיקער סעודה (כ׳בין אָנגעקומען מיט עטלעכע אַנדערע געסט פֿון פֿריִער, ערבֿ־שבת) האָבן מיר אַרומגערעדט די קשיא, צי איז לשון־קודש אָדער דער מאָדערנער העברעיִש באמת אַ ייִדישע שפּראַך? דער ביראָבידזשאַנער הויפּט־רבֿ אפֿרים קאָלפּאַק, אַ ליובאַוויטשער חסיד, האַלט, אַז נישט. לשון־קודש איז, לויט אים, די געטלעכע שפּראַך, דורך וועלכן דער רבונו־של־עולם האָט באַשאַפֿן די וועלט איידער דער ערשטער ייִד, אַבֿרהם אָבֿינו, איז געבוירן געוואָרן. אַזוי איז די מעשׂה לויט דער ייִדישער מסורה.
די עכטע ייִדישע שפּראַך, אויף וועלכער ייִדן האָבן גערעדט טאָג און נאַכט במשך פֿון דור צו דור, די שפּראַך פֿון די גרעסטע צדיקים און קדושים, איז דווקא ייִדיש. איך בין מסכּים דערמיט, נאָר, פֿאַרשטייט זיך, אַ סך מענטשן האַלטן אַנדערש.
דער ערשטער פֿעסטיוואַל פֿון דעם מין איז אָרגאַניזירט געוואָרן נאָך אין דער סאָוועטישער תּקופֿה, אין 1989; דערנאָך, מיט איבעררײַסן — יעדע צוויי יאָר. דער 13טער אינטערנאַציאָנאַלער פֿעסטיוואַל פֿון ייִדישער קולטור און קונסט איז פֿאָרגעקומען אין 2017. זינט דעמאָלט און ביז איצט האָט מען אים, צוליב פֿאַרשיידענע שוועריקייטן, נישט געקאָנט אָרגאַניזירן.
להיפּוך, האָט די איצטיקע אונטערנעמונג געשטעלט דעם טראָפּ אויף ייִדן אַרום דער וועלט בכלל, אויף פֿאַרשיידענע ייִדישע עדות, לאַוו־דווקא ייִדיש־רעדנדיקע אַשכּנזים. די אויסלענדישע געסט זענען געקומען פֿון ווײַסרוסלאַנד, מדינת־ישׂראל און כינע. ווי געזאָגט, זענען דרײַ פֿון די ישׂראלדיקע באַטייליקטע געבוירן געוואָרן אין טוניס. דערפֿאַר קאָן מען זאָגן, אַז צפֿון־אַפֿריקע איז אויך געווען פֿאָרגעשטעלט.
בסך־הכּל האָט מען דורכגעפֿירט 160 אונטערנעמונגען, על־פּי רובֿ גאַנץ קליינע, און עטלעכע גרויס־מאַסשטאַביקע. צוליב דעם גוטן וואַרעמען וועטער, איז דער אומזיסטער שלוס־קאָנצערט, וווּ ס׳איז אַרויסגעטראָטן דער באַקאַנטער מאָסקווער כאָר בראָש מיט מיכאַיִל טורעצקי, פֿאָרגעקומען אין דרויסן, אויף אַ פּלאַץ לעבן דעם ברעג פֿונעם טײַך ביראַ.
אומגעוויינטלעך איז געווען דאָס פֿאַרזוכן די גרעסטע חלה אין דער וועלט — איבער 12 מעטער (40 פֿוס) די לענג — וואָס די אָרטיקע קולינאַרן האָבן קונציק אויסגעבאַקן אונטער דער השגחה פֿון הרבֿ קאָלפּאַק. צווישן קליינע און פּשוטע אונטערנעמונגען איז געווען אַ וואַרשטאַט ווי צו שרײַבן די ייִדישע אותיות. די הויפּט־רעדאַקטאָרין פֿון „ביראָבידזשאַנער שטערן‟, יעלענע סאַראַשעווסקאַיאַ, האָט מיך געבעטן איר מיטצוהעלפֿן. זי האָט צוגעטראַכט אַ ספּעציעלן פּלאַסטיק־טראַפֿאַרעט (שטענצל־אותיות) מיטן ייִדיש אַלף־בית, טאַקע לויט די ייִוואָ־תּקנות: מיט אַ קמף אונטערן אַלף, צוויי יודן מיט אַ פּתח אאַז״וו), וואָס דערמעגלעכט אָפּצוצייכענען יעדן אות אויף אַ גרינגן אופֿן. זענען מיר געזעסן אין דרויסן מיט אַ טישל און געוויזן יעדן נײַגעריקן פֿאַרבײַגייער, ווי אַזוי עס שרײַבן זיך אויף ייִדיש זייערע נעמען צי אַנדערע פֿראַזעס.
די אַטמאָספֿער איז געווען אַ לוסטיקע און אומפֿאָרמעלע. עטלעכע געסט האָט פֿאַרחידושט די אַלטע סאָוועטישע אַוואַנגאַרד־אַרכיטעקטור, וועלכער ס׳איז טאַקע געווידמעט אַ נײַ בוך, וואָס מע האָט אויך פּרעזענטירט אויפֿן פֿעסטיוואַל. אין דער זעלבער צײַט, איז אין דער שטאָט פֿאָרגעקומען אַ באַשיידענע פּאַראַלעלע אונטערנעמונג: דער פֿעסיטיוואַל פֿון ייִדישע באָבעס — מיט אויסשטעלונגען, פֿאַרמעסטן, קאָנצערטן, אַ יריד פֿון היימגעמאַכטע קליידער און אַנדערע חפֿצים.
וואָס שייך דער שפּראַך בוכאָרי, באַטראַכטן אַ סך בוכאַרישע ייִדן אין קווינס דאָס לשון ווי אַ באַזונדערע שפּראַך. במשך פֿון אַ סך יאָרן האָט מיטן פֿאָרווערטס מיטגעאַרבעט דער בוכאַרישער פֿאָטאָגראַף אַרקאַדי יאַגודאַיעוו, מיט וועלכן איך פֿלעג שמועסן וועגן זײַן מאַמע־לשון. בעצם איז זי סתּם פּערסיש, אָבער מיט אַ צאָל ספּעציפֿיש ייִדישע עלעמענטן.
אַן אַנדער מעשׂה איז דזשוהורי — די שפּראַך פֿון די קאַווקאַזישע באַרג־ייִדן, וואָס האָט אַן אָפֿיציעלן סטאַטוס אין דאַגעסטאַן, איינער פֿון די רוסלענדישע דרומדיקער ראַיאָנען. אָפֿיציעל הייסט ער טאַטיש, ווײַל לויט דער סאָוועטישער טערמינאָלאָגיע איז ער ענלעך אויפֿן מוסולמענישן לשון טאַטיש. דער חילוק צווישן דזשוהורי (וואָס מיינט „ייִדיש‟) און טאַטיש איז אָבער ממשותדיק, הגם נישט אַזוי גרויס, ווי צווישן ייִדיש און דײַטשיש. דאָס איז טאַקע אַ באַזונדער לשון מיט אַן אייגענער ליטעראַטור.
אין דער שטאָט דערבענט, פֿון וואַנען עס איז אָנגעקומען קיין ביראָבידזשאַן הרבֿ עובֿדיה איסאַקאָוו, גייט אַרויס די צוויי־שפּראַכיקע דזשהורי־רוסישע צײַטונג „וואַטאַן‟ („היימלאַנד‟). איסאַקאַוו איז אויך אַ שוחט, אַ מוהל און אַ באַגאַבטער מאָלער. אַן אויסשטעלונג פֿון זײַנע ווערק איז געווען א טייל פֿונעם פֿעסיטיוואַל. נאָך איין קאַווקאַזישער ייִד, אַלבערט ראַפֿיִעוו, האָט פֿאָרגעשטעלט זײַנע פּרעכטיקע מיזרחדיקע טעפּעכער מיט אַ ייִדישן טעם.
די אינערלעכע ייִדישע פֿאַרשיידנאַרטיקייט איז געווען, לויט מײַן מיינונג, דער וויכטיקסטער מאָמענט פֿון דער אונטערנעמונג. עטלעכע זאַכן וואָס ס׳איז כּדאַי צו דערמאָנען איז, אַז אין רוסלאַנד זענען פֿאַראַן צוויי אָפֿיציעל אָנערקענטע ייִדישע לשונות — ייִדיש און באַרג־ייִדיש (דזשוהורי); אַז אַ סך ספֿרדים רעדן נאָך אַלץ אויף לאַדינאָ אָדער ייִדיש־אַראַבישע דיאַלעקטן, און אַז בײַ די בוכאַרישע ייִדן איז פֿאַראַן אויך אַן אייגענער דיאַלעקט און אַ באַזונדערע קולטור.
בקיצור, ייִדן שטעלן מיט זיך פֿאָר נישט עפּעס אַ מאָנאָטאָנע מאַסע, נאָר אַ בונטן „מערבֿ־מיזרחדיקן‟ טעפּעך פֿון פֿאַרשיידענע עדות מיט זייערע אוניקאַלע לשונות און טראַדיציעס.
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