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Jewish weavers craft their own heritage at this New Jersey synagogue’s ‘Loom Room’
(JTA) — Some farms allow visitors to pick their own fruit. Some franchises let you make your own pizza.
At a synagogue in New Jersey, you can make your prayer shawl and other woven Judaica items, drawing on an ethos that the most meaningful religious pieces are created by family members and friends.
Neve Shalom, a Conservative synagogue in Metuchen, opened its Sisterhood Loom Room in 2015, offering equipment and instruction for congregants and an increasing number of visitors who want to weave a custom tallit — the familiar prayer shawls with knotted fringes, or tzitzit, attached to their four corners. The shawls, plus tallit bags, challah and matzah covers, frequently become gifts for bar and bat mitzvahs, weddings and other joyous life cycle events.
“If somebody weaves a tallit for you, or they participated in its design – something that’s hand-made – it’s like being hugged by them every time you put it on,” said Cory Schneider, co-creator of the Loom Room with Neve Shalom Sisterhood president Jennifer Bullock.
More than 300 Judaica items have been woven at the Loom Room. Weavers range in age from 4 to 92, and experience levels go from beginner to expert.
Weavers are not only Neve Shalom congregants, but also visitors, largely from eastern Pennsylvania, New York, and Connecticut. Intrepid weavers have ventured from as far as Florida, Las Vegas and Canada, Schneider said.
The effort has grown in popularity since Schneider and her husband moved from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, to Somerset, New Jersey in 2014. Their granddaughter requested a custom tallit for her upcoming bat mitzvah, and Schneider introduced weaving to the congregation. Schneider came across an unused loom in the garage of a neighbor, a charitable-minded non-Jewish woman who soon donated it to the synagogue.
Bullock, Neve Shalom’s longtime Sisterhood president, was intrigued, and jumped in to learn how to weave.
“I went from being a complete novice to, in short order, being an expert on the loom,” Bullock said.
The woven Judaica items that have since proliferated at Neve Shalom reflect a combination of religious ritual, art and design. Each tallit’s tzitzit — which the Loom Room imports from Israel — must have four strings, intricately knotted according to prescribed instructions. Weavers must also be mindful of the biblical prohibition about mixing wool and linen, or shatnez.
After that weavers have wide latitude on tallit design. One Neve Shalom visitor, Jared Laff, for his 2018 bar mitzvah at Congregation Beth El in Yardley, Pennsylvania, wore a tallit that included the Boston Red Sox insignia. The color scheme and pattern were designed by Laff, and the garment woven by Schneider.
“None of them are alike. No two are identical,” Bullock said. “Each person puts their own identity into it.”
Jared Laff in his bar mitzvah tallit that included the Boston Red Sox insignia. (Congregation Neve Shalom)
The do-it-yourself spirit of the Loom Room echoes the hands-on Judaism movement of the 1970s, when Jews adjacent to the counterculture began making their own Judaica according to the principle of “hiddur mitzvah,” or beautifying the commandments. “We cheat ourselves if we don’t invest something of ourselves in making beautiful objects for everyday use,” according to one contributor to “The Jewish Catalog,” published in 1973, which included instructions for making a tallit, homemade candles and mezuzahs.
That impulse inspired Deborah Lamensdorf Jacobs to seek out the Loom Room. Lamensdorf Jacobs’ family owns a farm in the Mississippi Delta, purchased by her great-grandfather Morris Grundfest in 1919. Since 2005 she has had prayer shawls made by fellow Atlantan Lynn Hirsch, from cotton grown and baled on the farm.
“We have this first piece of cotton land that he purchased in 1919,” Lamensdorf Jacobs recalled. “But we don’t have the Judaica that we would hope to have had.”
Hirsch had woven the shawls for the bar and bat mitzvahs of her own three children, along with a niece. She started a home business, specializing in prayer shawls and challah covers.
Hirsch eventually sold the loom when she and her husband downsized, leaving Lamensdorf Jacobs without a weaver for several years. Last year, in an internet search, she discovered the thriving Neve Shalom Sisterhood Loom Room, which had just obtained a second loom donated by congregant Deborah Berman.
Jennifer Bullock and Cory Schneider weave on the newly-renovated loom that was donated by Deborah Lamensdorf Berman. (Congregation Neve Shalom)
Lamensdorf Jacobs eagerly shipped cotton-based yarn to New Jersey, to create another family tallit and a challah cover, with Schneider doing the weaving. That’s when Hirsch reentered the picture, helping Lamensdorf Jacobs with pattern designs. Jewish geography being what it is, the Neve Shalom weaving opportunities reconnected Hirsch, formerly of Lebanon, Pennsylvania, and Schneider, a longtime Harrisburg resident, about 34 miles away. They had been active together years before in the Women’s League for Conservative Judaism.
Now at Neve Shalom’s Sisterhood Loom Room, requests to learn weaving are growing at a steady clip.
“They make it accessible. They show you how to do it. They watch you for a little bit and are very patient if you make mistakes,” said Lamensdorf Jacobs, who last year visited Neve Shalom.
It’s been particularly gratifying to watch the weaving program grow in popularity not just among congregants but members of the Jewish community in and around New Jersey, and further away, said Bullock, the Neve Shalom Sisterhood president.
“The program has very much been a labor of love,” Bullock said. “We’re helping people to create Jewish heirlooms for their family, their loved ones, which hopefully will get passed on.”
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The post Jewish weavers craft their own heritage at this New Jersey synagogue’s ‘Loom Room’ appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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As Trump officials cozy up to Germany’s far right, everything alt is neu again
In the 1930s, American Nazis looked to Berlin for inspiration. The German-American Bund held torchlit rallies in New York, slandered Jews, preached white supremacy, and sent their children to Hitler Youth-style summer camps for indoctrination — all in service of importing the Führer’s vision to U.S. soil.
Nine decades later, the current is flowing in reverse, as Germany’s far-right Alternative für Deutschland (Alternative for Germany) party makes pilgrimages to Washington, D.C. — at the invitation of Trump administration officials who see the German party as unfairly ostracized.

This September, two top AfD figures met with staff from Vice President JD Vance’s office and with State Department employees. Later that month, more AfD parliamentarians arrived in D.C., where they conferred with Darren Beattie, a former Trump speechwriter now embedded in the State Department.
Over the past several months, the Trump administration has, in effect, taken the AfD under its wing. Trump’s MAGA movement and the AfD both cast themselves as defenders of a civilization threatened by nonwhite outsiders, and both have tolerated displays of antisemitism from operatives within their ranks.
At Trump’s Jan. 20 inauguration rally, Elon Musk made a gesture resembling a Nazi salute and declared, “My heart goes out to you. It is thanks to you that the future of civilization is assured.” Musk later denied any Nazi intent. But he raised eyebrows again when he appeared remotely at an AfD campaign rally in Halle, Germany, in February, where he praised the party as “the best hope for Germany” and urged citizens to “move beyond” their country’s Nazi past.
At the annual Munich Security Conference in mid-February, Vance rattled America’s European partners by saying democracy in Europe was threatened not by populist parties like the AfD, but by governments’ refusal to treat them like legitimate political actors. Vance added insult to injury by having a private meeting with Alice Weidel, co-leader of the AfD, before returning to the states.
This chummy relationship between the Trump administration and a German political party that has been designated an extremist organization by German intelligence presents a sort of reverse mirror image of the state of affairs between the two countries back in the 1930s.
Let’s set the time machine back to July 18, 1937, and the location to a summer camp in New Jersey — Camp Nordland. Operated by the German-American Bund, it wasn’t just a retreat; it was a staging ground for fascist pageantry. Swastika flags flanked the entrance. Uniformed men marched in formation. Children sang songs of Aryan pride. Politicians and Bund leaders gave speeches praising Hitler’s vision and denouncing Roosevelt’s “Jewish government.” It was America’s own slice of the Reich, nestled in the woods of Sussex County.
Camp Nordland was not an isolated hive of American-style Nazism. There were about 200 other camps like it, stretched across the nation.
The Bund’s rallies were near-perfect replicas of Nazi spectacles in Germany, none more brazen than the one held at Madison Square Garden on Feb. 20, 1939. More than 20,000 people packed the arena as uniformed men and women marched down the aisles in Nazi-style regalia. Swastikas flanked a towering portrait of George Washington. The crowd raised stiff-arm salutes as Bund leader Fritz Kuhn took the stage and declared, to roaring applause, that “the Jew is one thousand times more dangerous to us than all the others” and that the government must be “returned to the American people who founded it.”
The Bund’s dream of an American Reich collapsed soon after. Kuhn was convicted of embezzlement. The FBI cracked down. World War II made their allegiance to Hitler politically toxic. Camp Nordland was raided and shut down in 1941. But the ideology didn’t die — it went dormant, and it is resurfacing on both sides of the Atlantic.
Following the AfD’s September visits to Washington, Trump adviser Alex Bruesewitz traveled to Berlin in November, calling the AfD members of the Bundestag and party supporters “bold visionaries.”
“We are in this together,” said Bruesewitz, according to Politico. “The forces arrayed against us aren’t just ideological opponents, they’re manifestations of evil, seeking to extinguish the light of faith, family and freedom.”
“This spiritual battle isn’t confined to the United States,” he continued. “Oh, no. Germany and America may be separated by thousands of miles of ocean, but we face the same exact enemies, the same threats, the same insidious forces trying to tear us down.”
A month before Bruesewitz’s trip to Berlin, two AfD lawmakers were treated to a private reception in Manhattan, where an opera tenor serenaded them with the first stanza of “Deutschland über Alles” — a verse officially excluded from Germany’s national anthem and widely considered taboo for its Nazi associations, according to a Reuters report. The event was hosted by the New York Young Republican Club, a chapter of the national Young Republican Federation. Notably, a fall exposé by Politico revealed leaked Telegram messages from Young Republican leaders in multiple states, in which members praised Hitler, joked about gas chambers, slandered Jews and Black Americans, and fantasized about violence against political opponents.
All of this raises the question: Is there any danger in this transatlantic camaraderie between Trump’s MAGA movement and the AfD? Probably more so for Germans than for Americans.
The AfD has become a powerful player in German politics since its emergence just twelve years ago, rising from a fringe Euroskeptic movement to a dominant force — especially in the former East, where economic dislocation and cultural resentment have fueled its ascent. While Germany’s mainstream parties have steadily shed voters, the AfD has gained them. Of the Bundestag’s 630 seats, the AfD now holds 152, making it the second-largest delegation in the federal parliament. And yet, despite its electoral strength, the AfD remains politically isolated: Germany’s mainstream parties have refused to cooperate with the AfD on legislation or coalition-building.
The AfD hopes its courtship of Trump and his MAGA movement will increase pressure on Germany’s governing Christian Democrat–Social Democrat coalition to dismantle the firewall that has kept it politically isolated. Doing so wouldn’t just amplify the AfD’s influence — it could clear a path for the party to join a future governing coalition. To many Germans, this scenario evokes chilling memories of how Hitler rose to power: not by winning outright, but by exploiting the weakness and fragmentation of mainstream parties.
The AfD insists it is not a threat to democracy, despite being officially designated a “confirmed right-wing extremist” organization by Germany’s domestic intelligence agency in May. Party leaders call the label a smear, an attempt to silence dissent. That view has found defenders across the Atlantic. Secretary of State Marco Rubio condemned the designation as “tyranny in disguise.”
It could be argued that in some ways, what many Germans fear for their country has already happened here. In Germany, far-right ideologues are still waiting to enter government. In the U.S., they’re already inside — drafting policy, staffing agencies, shaping foreign alliances. What Germany still treats as a red line, America has already normalized.
The post As Trump officials cozy up to Germany’s far right, everything alt is neu again appeared first on The Forward.
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Some Black Jews feel more ostracized from Jewish communities post-Oct. 7, survey finds
Growing up as a Black woman in the South with a Jewish father, Autumn Leonard often felt like “an outsider looking in” on Jewish communities. She wasn’t raised particularly Jewish, and her Black and Jewish identities felt disconnected from each other — as if she had to choose one.
But after she married a Jewish man and wanted to raise Jewish children, she sought out ways to engage more deeply with her Jewishness. She found groups that affirmed both of her identities, chairing the “Race Working Group” at the progressive Brooklyn synagogue Kolot Chayeinu and becoming a lead organizer with the Black Jewish Liberation Collective.
“That made me feel like, Oh, Jewish is something I can be — as opposed to something over there that comes from my ancestors,” Leonard said.
After the attacks of Oct. 7, however, Leonard said she began to notice a shift. Jewish communities seemed more inward-looking, she said, with a heightened focus on combating antisemitism and a retreat from commitments to racial justice. She began hearing stories from Black Jews who felt increasingly sidelined or isolated.
So she set out to gather empirical evidence to test her hunch.
The result was a survey conducted through the Black Jewish Liberation Collective, a progressive group that connects Black Jews for political organizing and cultural events. The group circulated the survey beyond its own membership and received 104 responses from a geographically diverse group — most from New York state, but also with respondents in Canada, Portugal and the United Kingdom. Participants were between 21 and 75 years old and reported a range of religious observance levels, from just ethnically Jewish to Orthodox. Responses were collected between October 2024 and January 2025.
The survey — which represents a tiny subset of the estimated 1% of U.S. Jews who identify as Black — found that 62% of respondents reported “increased marginalization” in a Jewish community or space after Oct. 7, 2023.
Those feelings of ostracization largely had to do with disagreements around Israel and Gaza, according to the survey. While survey participants generally identified as more left-leaning on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, respondents on both sides of the political spectrum said they felt alienated.
In Jewish spaces, some respondents felt they were assumed to be more sympathetic to the Palestinian cause because of their race. Meanwhile, in progressive spaces, some Black Jews felt they were assumed to be Zionist because of their Jewishness.
“I do feel some kind of internalizing shame where I am more careful around the ways that I share my Jewishness in non-Jewish spaces,” one survey respondent wrote. “I resent the ways that Zionism is conflated with Jewishness, and the ways I have to extricate [or] preface that.”
According to Leo Ferguson, a member of the Black Jewish Liberation Collective’s steering committee, another troubling post–Oct. 7 trend is that people who voice criticism of Israel are increasingly labeled “fake Jews.” Black Jews often already face that accusation because of their race — and adding political litmus tests, he said, only intensifies the problem.
“What I have witnessed is more scrutiny of Black Jews. There is an ongoing question as to whether or not we will stand up and be ‘real Jews’ which means aligning with whoever’s politics is judging us,” one survey participant wrote.
Compounding these trends, some Jewish institutions have shifted away from the idea that advocating for a broad range of minority groups also benefits Jews, focusing instead on antisemitism linked to Israel. Just last month, the Anti-Defamation League entirely removed from the “What We Do” page of its website a section called “Protect Civil Rights” amid threats from the Trump administration. Although that change occurred after the survey was conducted, some respondents already saw the trend emerging.
“The way in which much of [the] Jewish community has turned from barely doing antiracism work wholly toward Israel and self-protection is so discouraging, especially as the racism within Jewish community is so severe,” one survey respondent wrote.
The survey offers recommendations based on the survey’s findings, including welcoming ideological diversity in Jewish spaces; having a time and place for Israel discourse, rather than letting it “bleed into all aspects of Jewish life”; and maintaining connections between Black and Jewish advocacy groups even if they disagree on issues surrounding conflict in Gaza.
“The discussion around Israel Palestine has taken up so much of the oxygen that it has made it impossible to then also talk about things like racial justice,” Ferguson said.
The post Some Black Jews feel more ostracized from Jewish communities post-Oct. 7, survey finds appeared first on The Forward.
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Hasan Piker Bashed Gal Gadot in Villainous ‘Variety’ Feature
In case you missed it, The New York Times recently did a fawning profile on popular Twitch streamer Hasan Piker, in which it mentioned, only in passing, that he once said America deserved 9/11. The article didn’t mention that Piker said he supported Hezbollah or that he took every chance to vilify Israel. It didn’t mention that he interviewed someone who he said was a member of the Houthis, only to later say he wasn’t.
Now comes an article in Variety by Tatiana Siegel, who uncritically lets Piker says his statement about 9/11 was about “blowback” and doesn’t push any further, accepting this nonsense that his own words were “weaponized” against him.
Siegel is more interested in writing that Piker is 6’4″, muscular, and plays basketball, instead of writing about how he interviewed a Houthi and vibed with him. Why get into any of that stuff? It’s much more important for Siegel to repeat a line from the Times article, as if it was her own, that Piker could be a possible answer to when the left-wing will find its own Joe Rogan. Maybe if they repeat it, suddenly Piker will be the next Joe Rogan!
Siegel tries to cast Piker as a moderate, because he disagrees with the insane conspiracy theory that Israel killed Charlie Kirk.
Siegel also interviews Taylor Lorenz. Yes Lorenz, the fool who said she felt joy when she heard news of the murder of United Health Care CEO Brian Thompson. Lorenz, who in televised interviews has said she thinks Piker is hot, and says the entire Internet has been weaponized against him. I doubt she’d be so quick to say this if Piker was unattractive.
Of course, Siegel is uncritical of Piker for saying that Amy Schumer should be cancelled, though she at least points out he falsely attributes a statement to Schumer that she never made.
But the kicker is Piker’s disdain for Gal Gadot, who has been a very vocal supporter of Israel. Piker likes his Jews quiet and embarrassed. He calls Gadot a “dogs**t actress” and complains of her normalizing Israel. I don’t remember Piker being a film critic — and of course no one talks about how Piker normalizes antisemitism. Good thing they got a writer with a Jewish-sounding last name to write a puff piece.
As Norman Finkelstein said when speaking about what Zohran Mamdani needed to do to fight off charges of antisemitism (which of course Finkelstein thought were fake) — people like this need to find Jews to do the “dirty work.”
Jewish actress Natalie Portman is okay, according to Piker, because she never served in the IDF. The Jewish actor who plays Superman is fine, because he’s not pro-Israel from what he’s seen. Who’s the Jewish influencer who says which Muslim actors are okay to watch in movies or not?
Oh, that’s right, there is none, as that would be seen as Islamophobic. But Piker gets another free pass to spew his hatred.
The article could not be complete without a little “Jews control the media” implication, as Piker criticizes Bari Weiss because she represents everything he “despises about access journalism.” Of course, Siegel doesn’t bother to mention that Piker got his career from his uncle, Cenk Uygur, founder of the Young Turks, one of the most noteworthy left-wing YouTube channels, for which Piker used to work. And there’s no mention of Weiss’ courage to quit the New York Times to start The Free Press. Because when Jews succeed, it can’t have anything to do with merit — it must be that they all help each other!
The writer could have asked about the Piker controversy surrounding his dog for which he’s received immense criticism, but I wasn’t shocked she didn’t mention it. That might get in the way of him being the next Joe Rogan!
The article ends with Piker saying he doesn’t have bodyguards, citing Fidel Castro who claimed to have a moral vest.
The article is good for only one thing — pointing out how much the media hates the Jews.
The author is a writer based in New York.

