Uncategorized
How the CEO of New York’s largest food bank is inspired by Jewish values
(New York Jewish Week) — At the Food Bank for New York City, one of the largest food banks in the country, the holiday season is crucial to ensuring New Yorkers have enough food to be able to live with dignity.
Since its founding in 1983, the organization has provided over one billion meals to New Yorkers in need — as well as offering free SNAP assistance, tax preparation services and financial literacy programs to low-income residents.
“Our central mission is that we feed people for today, but we have made significant investments in programming that truly helps to lift people out of poverty,” president and chief executive officer Leslie Gordon told the New York Jewish Week. “Because the reason why people are food insecure to begin with is a resource problem. It’s an inability to get connected to networks or resources, because of racist systems or policy issues.”
Gordon, who is Jewish, has helmed the organization since 2020, and in some ways, rose to the role in a way that seemed inevitable. As a child, she loved to watch her grandfather sell meat, produce and other goods from the grocery store he owned in Tarrytown, New York, and deliver food donations to the needy. Her mother, who also grew up at the store, was the executive director at the Hunts Point Produce Market, the country’s largest wholesale produce market.
Prior to joining Food Bank for New York, Gordon held leadership roles at Feeding Westchester, a food bank network in Westchester County and City Harvest, which helps make fresh, nutritious food accessible around New York. Starting her job at the beginning of the pandemic, Gordon has overseen a doubling of the Food Bank for New York’s annual food distribution across the city from 70 million pounds to 150 million pounds.
A fourth-generation Tarrytown resident, Gordon has been a member of the Conservative congregation Temple Beth Abraham her entire life. She lives in the same house that she, her grandfather and her mother grew up in, with her wife, two dogs and two cats.
The New York Jewish Week chatted with Gordon about her background, her favorite parts of the job and the Jewish family values that got her here.
This interview has been lightly condensed and edited for length and clarity.
After leadership roles at two other food banks, Gordon took over the top position at Food Bank for New York City in March 2020. She credits her Jewish family values for helping guide her. (Courtesy)
New York Jewish Week: How have your Jewish values guided you as the CEO of Food Bank for New York?
Leslie Gordon: The thing about my connection to Judaism at the Food Bank is really a personal responsibility around doing tikkun olam. It’s an ever-present, everyday commitment to making the world more just and equal through social action, which is what we do every day at Food Bank — helping New Yorkers across the five boroughs to have the resources they need to be able to have a stable, healthy life where they can thrive and look forward to working on achieving their dreams.
Food is culture. Food is love. Food is history. Food has always been a big part of my personal Jewish experience — whether through holidays or through historical explorations. My grandfather was a butcher. He grew up in a small Jewish enclave in Rockland County called Pot Cheese Hollow [now Spring Valley], which is a sort of a European framing for all things cottage cheese.
You started this job right at the beginning of the pandemic. What was that like, and what was the path that led you to working at Food Bank?
I’ll never forget this: My first day was March 30, 2020. It was a little crazy to be the humble leader of one of the nation’s largest food banks at a time when the need was historically outsized and quickly escalated. It was a little bit of a challenge and, frankly, has been for most of my tenure.
Again, it goes back to my Jewish familial roots. I am carrying on a family legacy of feeding people: My grandfather, Norman Goldberg, was the son of European immigrants. When they came over [to America], and in his growing up years in that enclave in Rockland County, they were really, really poor. One of their biggest assets, believe it or not, was a dairy cow — no running water, no indoor plumbing. He would tell stories as kids that sometimes the only thing he ate in the course of a day was an apple that he picked off a neighboring farmer’s tree.
Fast forward many years into the future, he was a successful businessman, between a grocery store, a butcher store and a wine and liquor store, amongst other pursuits. He never forgot where he came from and he would talk to us about the importance of connecting people with food, and again doing tikkun olam. They would get phone calls from the rabbi at Temple Beth Abraham in Tarrytown, where they lived, because food banks and food pantries didn’t exist back then — the World War II era all the way through the 1950s, ’60s, and even ’70s. They would get a list of people in the community who needed help and [my grandfather] would take my mother by the arm and they would go to the local grocery store and shop. Frequently, as my mom tells it now, they’d end up in a local fourth-floor walk-up apartment building, ring the bell, drop the groceries and go, because you wanted to preserve the dignity of those whom you are helping.
That really made an impression on me. My grandfather was also an avid backyard gardener and was famous for leaving those little brown lunch bags full of excess produce from his backyard garden on people’s stoops.
My mother became the head of the world’s largest wholesale produce terminal, which is based in the Hunts Point section of South Bronx. I caught the bug on logistics and operations in food and really the romanticism of the food system. I’m still of that generation where I feel very connected to my local food system and farmers. I had a very unique growing up experience, where I got to see train cars full of broccoli or potatoes or other amazing produce that traveled through small towns and cities across the United States to land up in the South Bronx. So, I’ve been in the arena of food banking for about 15 years. I couldn’t have predicted it, I call it a happy accident. Of the 10 food banks in New York State, I’ve had the pleasure and honor of leading three of them.
What type of outreach do you do to New York’s Jewish community?
We’re a city of about 8.4 million people, and 1.6 million of them, give or take, are people who just don’t know where their next meal is coming from or what it will be. Ask yourself: Have you ever been hungry for a long period of time during the day? How do you deal with that? Imagine if that was your every day. That is compounded, potentially, by other struggles that you have. People don’t live single-issue lives. So, typically, when you’re food insecure, there are a lot of other issues that you’re grappling with — could be housing issues, could be mental health issues, could be employment or underemployment issues. There’s just a lot going on in the mix. New York City is a particularly expensive place to live. It’s a tough environment.
We’re the heart of a network of about 800 on-the-ground partners across the five boroughs. On nearly every street in nearly every neighborhood, our partners are food pantries, community kitchens, senior centers, shelters, community-based organizations like New York City Housing Authority or a Boys and Girls Club. In the case of the Jewish community, we have relationships with more than 40 on-the-ground agencies that specifically serve observant Jews. Organizations like Masbia, Alexander Rapoport’s restaurant-style soup kitchen that he’s now famous for.
We’re serving one of the nation’s largest kosher observant populations in the U.S. right here in New York City. We’re committed to making sure that kosher-observing communities in Williamsburg, Midwood, Crown Heights, Coney Island, Lower East Side, etc., have access to good kosher food that they can feel good about. The number of Jews in New York City who struggle is just astounding. We have a very large Jewish population, obviously. And so, you know, it’s something that’s on my mind a lot. I’ve had the opportunity to work with the Jewish community in New York now for over 15 years. Studies tell us that more than 10% of Jewish adults, and Jewish adults with kids in New York are food insecure. It’s serious. You’d be astounded, probably, to learn that more than 20% of adults in Jewish households in New York are at the poverty line.
What is your favorite part of the job?
A job as a food bank leader is very, very unique. In the course of a day, I can work on operations, I can work on marketing and communications, I can meet with donors, I can be on the phone with one of our agencies or food pantries on the ground, or I can be working on policy or advocacy. So it’s a really varied position. The most fun part about my job is the people and the stories. It’s the people who we serve who just have really big hearts and deep and interesting personal stories, and they’re just like you and me — moms and dads and families and kids who are trying to live their best life. We take the opportunity to be able to help them along the way pretty seriously.
For me, it starts internally with our Food Bank family. I take that really seriously. The culture in the organization is really important to me. I want people to feel supported and have all the resources they need to do their job, to be excited and energized about the ability and opportunity they have to impact people’s lives. At the end of the day, it’s always the people.
I’m a bit of a builder, and a fixer. It’s just who I am. Why I’m that way, I have no idea. My mother tells me that I’m my grandfather’s granddaughter. I just have a particular affinity for how things work and systems and processes and making things better and more efficient. It’s just part of my DNA, I guess. That is a skill set that really fits well with what’s required to run a food bank.
—
The post How the CEO of New York’s largest food bank is inspired by Jewish values appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
Hamas Is Still in Power — What Does That Mean for the Gaza ‘Peace’ Deal?
Palestinian militants stand guard on the day that hostages held in Gaza since the deadly Oct. 7, 2023, attack, are handed over to the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), as part of a ceasefire and hostages-prisoners swap deal between Hamas and Israel, in Khan Younis, southern Gaza Strip, Oct. 13, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Ramadan Abed
For weeks, the world praised the so-called “historic ceasefire deal” in Gaza brokered by President Donald Trump. It was hailed as a diplomatic masterstroke, a moment of supposed statesmanship that would stop the war, bring stability, and resolve the hostage crisis.
But peel away the glitter, and the truth is painfully simple: only one promise of that deal was fully kept — the release of the living Israeli hostages. Everything else collapsed into illusion or danger. And once again, Israel was left to deal with the consequences alone.
The ceasefire did not dismantle Hamas, disarm it, or replace it with any mechanism of governance that could prevent another October 7. Hamas remained in power, kept its rockets, rifles, explosives, and tunnels, and continues to kill Palestinians who dared to dissent.
Hundreds of Gazans were murdered by Hamas, while the world looked away. Even after enjoying international legitimacy through a US-sponsored deal, Hamas refused to return the remains of three murdered Israelis to their families. And far from reforming, restraining, or civilizing Hamas, the ceasefire simply gave the group more time, money, and power.
So while the world celebrated a “diplomatic breakthrough,” Israel understood the truth: a deal that leaves a genocidal terror group in power is not peace. It is temporary anesthesia.
The consequences of this deal did not end in Gaza. They reached Washington, and they reached the Oval Office. President Trump has continued building ties with Qatar, ignoring the fact that its government was harboring Hamas leaders, funding extremist propaganda, and fueling anti-Israel operations across the Middle East. Israel was asked to play nice with its enemies because powerful men in fancy palaces were writing very expensive checks.
Even more dangerous was Trump’s plan to sell F-35 stealth fighters to Saudi Arabia, a regime ruled by an authoritarian monarchy with a long record of human rights abuses, zero tolerance for dissent, and a history of anti-Israel rhetoric. There are also serious questions about whether the US and Israel can trust guarantees from Turkey and Syria, which the former being especially unlikely.
The lesson is clear. International guarantees come and go. American presidents change. Arab regimes shift alliances. Tyrants receive gifts, favors, and weapons. But Israel’s enemies remain the same. And the lesson is as old as the State of Israel itself: never trust foreign promises, and never depend on foreign protection. Israel can rely only on herself.
A ceasefire deal that empowers Hamas is not peace. Weapons shipments to dictators are not stability.
Israel’s own courage, strength, and moral clarity is what will keep her safe long after the glitter of these “historic deals” fades into dust.
Sabine Sterk is the CEO of Time To Stand Up For Israel.
Uncategorized
The Sacred Power of Challah Bakes and Why I Keep Doing Them
A loaf of challah being prepared. Photo: Aish.
There I was last week, standing on the rooftop of the AISH Institute for Women’s Education, flour dusting my blue apron, watching dozens of young women with their hands kneading dough. The Jerusalem skyline stretched out behind us like God’s own backdrop for our first-ever challah bake at the new seminary in the heart of the city — an event I’ve dreamed of hosting for so many years.
I’ve often held these events in other locations — what I call my “ABCs of Challah Bakes” tour, from Amsterdam, to Brooklyn, to Cape Town, and everywhere in between.
I’ve literally been flown around the world to knead dough with Jewish women. Sounds crazy, right? But there’s something magical about hosting this on the rooftop of our newly inaugurated seminary with young women who have come from all over the world to study Jewish wisdom together.
Through this Challah bake, we joined tens of thousands of women who were participating in similar events in stadiums, synagogues, and community centers worldwide, each of us elbow-deep in flour. We shared something monumental that brought us together in a way that was both moving and invigorating. The Shabbos Project figured this magic out 12 years ago, and honestly, they struck gold.
Want to know the real secret to challah bakes? They’re the Jewish equivalent of a universal welcome mat. I’ve seen women show up who haven’t set foot in a synagogue in decades or ever. Women who don’t fast on Yom Kippur or attend a Passover seder. Women who would typically run from anything remotely religious. Yet somehow, they come out of the woodwork for challah bakes. It’s mind-blowing! Maybe it’s the smell of fresh bread, maybe it’s the laughter and camaraderie, maybe it’s just the promise of those sweet and sumptuous carbs for the special day of Shabbos, but they come, and that’s what matters.
Since October 7, these events have gained even more momentum. For two years, our hearts broke daily thinking about what’s been happening in Israel and what was transpiring for the hostages in Gaza. I believe it is because of the search for connection that many Jews felt after October 7th, that these challah bake gatherings have morphed into something even more powerful.
Women who felt disconnected were suddenly craving community. The simple act of kneading dough has become this beautiful act of resilience. We’re literally taking flour and water, and a few more basic ingredients, and creating something nourishing when so much around us feels impossibly out of control.
I’ve always been a believer in the spiritual side of challah baking — just ask my family. I’ve been preaching about it for years. But then came Ori Megidish’s story. Her mother baked challah and made a special blessing for her daughter’s safe return on October 27, 2023, while Ori was held hostage by Hamas, praying with every fold of her dough for her daughter’s safe return. Three days later, Ori became the first hostage rescued by the IDF. Social media went wild connecting the dots. It made challah bakes look pretty powerful, and women noticed.
This isn’t superstition, mysticism, or folklore; Jewish tradition actually teaches that the moment when we separate a small piece from our dough is an incredibly auspicious time for prayer. Standing there with dough on your hands, preparing food that will nourish people you love and separating a small piece in compliance with Jewish law, our sages teach, is precisely the moment when heaven’s paying extra close attention to our prayers.
At our rooftop event, we aimed those prayers toward healing, physical, mental, and spiritual, for everyone touched by this horrific conflict in addition to very personal, heartfelt prayers and blessings for two new brides in the group. There were belly laughs and quiet tears, sometimes from the same person within minutes.
These gatherings work because you walk away with something real, actual bread that fills your home with that Friday afternoon (aka “erev shabbos”) smell that takes you right back to your bubby’s kitchen. But you also leave with something you can’t Instagram: new friends, renewed purpose, and this crazy warm feeling that you’re part of something bigger than yourself.
That’s why I’ll keep doing these as long as I possibly can. Like I’ve witnessed at the Suzana and Ivan Kaufman AISH Institute for Women’s Education, I’ve watched shy women who came once reluctantly then return year after year with friends in tow. I’ve seen friendships form across decades and continents.
I’ve witnessed the power of flour and water to heal wounds you can’t see, and in a world desperate for healing, there’s something revolutionary about women performing this ancient ritual together. The challah feeds our bodies; the community and spirituality of the moment feed our souls. As we shape our dough, we’re reshaping our world, one prayer, one loaf, and one gathering at a time.
And who knows? With enough flour, faith, and friendship, we might just heal all that divides us.
Jamie Geller is the Global Spokesperson and Chief Communications Officer for AISH. She is a bestselling cookbook author, Jewish education advocate, and formerly an award-winning producer and marketing executive with HBO, CNN, and Food Network.
Uncategorized
ITV’s ‘Breaking Ranks’: The IDF Soldier Documentary That Broke From the Truth
Then-IDF Chief of Staff Lt. Gen. Herzi Halevi, center, speaking to commanders and soldiers in the Golan Heights on Dec. 13, 2024. Photo: IDF.
A new documentary airing on ITV, Breaking Ranks: Inside Israel’s War, claims to be “the story of the war in Gaza told by the soldiers who fought it.”
An insider account of war sounds promising, especially amid the flood of misinformation online from people who were never on the ground as IDF soldiers and have no experience of the reality of fighting a terrorist organization.
Yet, of all the thousands of soldiers, both in mandatory service and reserve duty, the documentary presents a carefully selected handful of soldiers to tell the story of what they believe really happened in Gaza.
But the story they tell distorts — if not entirely omits — key facts. The film overlooks the reality of what it means to fight a terrorist organization driven by an ideology of extermination, one that deliberately embeds itself among civilians to wage war from within their communities.
That didn’t stop other media outlets from jumping on allegations of war crimes, with outlets such as The Guardian and Independent publishing pieces based on the documentary’s conclusions. That the Tehran Times gleefully pounced on it as well tells a story in itself.
The War Against Hamas
While the film does spend a few minutes showcasing the horrific tragedies of the October 7, 2023, massacre led by Hamas, it quickly shifts its focus to alleged atrocities committed by the IDF in the aftermath.
From the very beginning, the IDF made it explicitly clear that the war was against terrorist organizations only – there was no deliberate targeting of innocent civilians in Gaza. The IDF has maintained this throughout the war, taking every measure possible to warn the civilian population of any potential danger, including sending leaflets before a targeted strike and creating civilian zones to ensure the safety of non-combatants.
The complexity of fighting a terrorist organization is largely overlooked throughout the film. At one point, the use of force in Gaza is called “unprecedented in combat in terms of the number of explosives dropped per square mile,” making it out to be worse than the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. What it fails to acknowledge is that Israel precisely targets terrorists and terrorist infrastructure.
That viral cartoon comparing Gaza to Hiroshima and London is seriously misleading. Designed to provoke outrage, the reality shows Israel’s precision in targeting terrorists, even in the toughest situations. Context matters. pic.twitter.com/rxvi2YBvl2
— HonestReporting (@HonestReporting) December 14, 2024
Of course, for the documentary to accurately acknowledge the terrorist infrastructure in Gaza, it would have to spend a considerable amount of time discussing the vast tunnel network Hamas has built beneath the entirety of the Gaza Strip. However, this undeniable fact gets quickly glossed over. The filmmakers suggest the tunnels are merely used for “smuggling, warfare, and to avoid Israeli airstrikes.”
This framing subtly shifts blame onto Israel, as if Hamas’s need to “avoid” the Israeli air force is a defensive response rather than a deliberate strategy to wage war from beneath civilian areas. Terrorism? The inhumane holding and torture of hostages in clear violation of every facet of humanitarian law? Entirely unmentioned.
Breaking the Silence
The omission of the true purpose of the tunnels instead becomes spun into a claim based on hearsay that the IDF uses human shields in Gaza. Despite the IDF’s unequivocal denial of such allegations, this assertion is amplified by the interviewees.
However, this should come as no surprise, as one of the interviewees, under the name “Yaakov,” has previously espoused this claim to the New York Times via Breaking the Silence. This highly politicized Israeli organization spends less of its time trying to convince the Israeli public of its case and more on providing the foreign media with fodder to attack Israel.
While the organization seeks to “expose the public to the reality of everyday life in the Occupied Territories,” in reality, it relies on unverified and exaggerated claims provided by IDF soldiers, some of whom receive a paycheck from the organization and therefore may very well have ulterior motives.
“Yaakov” shared photos he took during his time in reserve duty in Gaza, including one now infamous photo that was previously shared in his New York Times article. The photo is said to display civilians who are used as human shields by the IDF when exploring the tunnel network. But the blurry and contextless image offers no evidence whatsoever to support such a serious accusation.
The credits of the documentary give special “thanks” to “Yaakov” from Breaking the Silence, revealing a clear bias in its sources in order to frame a specific narrative about the IDF as a whole. Instead of drawing on a range of credible voices – including a wide array of active-duty soldiers, independent analysts, and military experts – they elevate a figure tied to a controversial advocacy group with a record of misrepresentation.
Amplifying Non-Neutral Voices
“Yaakov” from Breaking the Silence is not the only biased source. Dr. Itamar Mann, a professor of international law at Haifa University, for instance, gives highly critical commentary on the IDF’s actions.
Dr. Mann is listed as an author and legal consultant on a report by Physicians for Human Rights (Israel), claiming there is genocide in Gaza. The organization has been known to spread false, distorted narratives as a way of delegitimizing Israel. In fact, in the immediate aftermath of October 7, the organization stated that it is our “human obligation to contextualize yesterday’s violence.”
The documentary also brings in Amjad al-Shara, the director of the Palestinian NGO Network (PNGO), who refers to the IDF as the “occupation forces,” and is himself described as a “pro-Hamas” figure. PNGO has in the past supported terrorism and hosted conferences or speakers connected to the PFLP.
False Casualty Statistics and Disproved Claims
With the poor sourcing and reliance on problematic organizations, it is no surprise that the documentary also fell into the trap of repeating already thoroughly debunked claims about casualty statistics, genocide, and famine in Gaza.
At one point, the film refers to a previously debunked statistic from a so-called study by The Guardian and +972 Magazine, which claims that 83% of all casualties in Gaza are women and children. This figure is based on data from the Hamas-run Ministry of Health, creating a misleading comparison to the IDF’s confirmed count of 8,900 identified terrorists. By subtracting that number from Hamas’ unverifiable total of 53,000 casualties at the time, these outlets and the documentary falsely present the remaining 83% of casualties as civilians, echoing Hamas propaganda.
Naturally, given the bias of the documentary, the claims of genocide and famine are also leveled against Israel. Even though the definitions of both terms have been distorted in order to accuse Israel of such atrocities, the film presents these allegations as fact, rather than propaganda.
Final Gaza fake “famine” analysis: IPC declared famine on Aug 22. Through ceasefire on Oct 10 there should have been 10,000 starvation deaths. But Hamas/UN counted 192 (most if not all with pre-existing conditions). That’s 98% below famine levels. It was always a hoax. 1/ pic.twitter.com/jWcZOnwdAe
— Aizenberg (@Aizenberg55) October 21, 2025
For a documentary to do its job and remain neutral on such serious allegations, the contrary evidence must be presented, but throughout the documentary, this was deliberately avoided.
War, especially against a terrorist organization that operates using guerrilla tactics, presents immensely challenging scenarios. In the fog of war, mistakes and errors of judgment can and do happen. But it is also true that the IDF has consistently held its soldiers to the highest of standards, investigating any wrongdoing as it occurs.
It would be naive to suggest that every soldier in the IDF or any other comparable army behaves in an exemplary fashion. In September 2024, The New Yorker published a database of what it said is the “largest known collection of investigations of possible war crimes committed [by the US military] in Iraq and Afghanistan since 9/11—nearly eight hundred incidents in all.”
Some of the alleged crimes include “the case of soldiers raping a fourteen-year-old girl and subsequently murdering her and her family; the alleged killing of a man by a Green Beret who cut off his victim’s ear and kept it; and cruelty toward detainees at Abu Ghraib prison and at the Bagram Air Base detention facility.”
All of this is not to claim that the IDF is necessarily more moral than the American military, although there is certainly a good case to be made. The point is that nobody would condemn the entirety of the U.S. Army as an immoral entity that brings shame to its country despite the behavior of a minority of its troops.
And ultimately, ITV’s documentary relies on a tiny number of Israeli soldiers as “eyewitnesses,” most of whom appear to have a political agenda backed by Breaking the Silence.
Rather than offering an honest insight into the complexities of modern warfare against a terrorist organization, the filmmakers chose a simplified, one-sided narrative of Israel’s supposed aggression. In doing so, ITV’s Breaking Ranks fails the very test it set for itself: to tell the story of the war “through the soldiers who fought it.” Instead, it tells a story already written — one shaped by bias, omission, and a refusal to confront the full truth.
The author is a contributor to HonestReporting, a Jerusalem-based media watchdog with a focus on antisemitism and anti-Israel bias — where a version of this article first appeared.