Uncategorized
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.”
—
The post Jewish weavers craft their own heritage at this New Jersey synagogue’s ‘Loom Room’ appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
Despite Rule Changes, Israel Proved the Haters Wrong at Eurovision
Noam Bettan, representing Israel, performs “Michelle” during the Grand Final of the 2026 Eurovision Song Contest in Vienna, Austria, May 16, 2026. REUTERS/Lisa Leutner
The crowd in Austria booed when it was announced that Israel was in the lead, with only several countries remaining to receive audience votes, in this year’s Eurovision competition.
Noam Bettan’s song “Michelle” — in Hebrew, French, and English — was without a doubt the best song in the competition. But The New York Times had written a disgusting hit piece about how Israel spends a lot of money on its Eurovision entry, while not mentioning anything about the efforts and spending of other countries in the competition. Spain, Slovenia, Iceland, Ireland, and the Netherlands boycotted the competition.
It also made Jew-haters nervous that traditionally, the country that wins hosts Eurovision the next year — meaning that if Israel won, the competition could have come to Jerusalem or Tel Aviv.
Ultimately, Bulgaria was the surprise winner with the nonsense song “Bangaranga!” performed in English by Dara. It’s fun in a campy way, but seems more like a sketch song from a comedy show than a song that should win Eurovision.
Bettan’s “Michelle” showed off his powerful voice, and the song got bigger and better as it went on.
I thought that Finland had the second best song after Israel, with “Liekinheitin” performed by Pete Parkkonen with Linda Lampenius on violin. The country finished sixth. Australia’s Delta Goodrem impressed with “Eclipse,” in what was the third best song of the competition, though the country was awarded fourth place.
Countries in the grand finale were awarded a jury vote (by a panel of professionals) and the televote-countries got 12 votes if they were the top vote getter from another country, with other points if they were in a country’s top 10.
Those voting on their phone or online could not vote for someone from their own country. The rules changed from last year so that each person could vote 10 times, as opposed to last year’s 20. Some critics of Israel online hoped this rule change might limit Israel’s ability to have a strong finish. There was also a “Rest of The World Vote” factored in.
Israel was in the lead with a total of 343 points, 220 from the public and 123 from the jury. With Bulgaria getting 204 jury points, the announcer noted that Bulgaria would need 140 points from the public to be the winner. It received an inexplicable 312 public votes. The jury gave France 144 points, Poland 133 points, Denmark 165 points, and Italy 134 points — which some saw as possible bias against Israel, though Australia’s 165 points and Finland’s 141 points, may have been due to the actual merit of the songs.
With rumors flying that Bulgaria can’t afford to have the Eurovision show in their country, there was speculation online asking if Israel would host it next year — but that sadly will never happen.
Even though Bettan finished second, it was a clear victory, as the song was great, and Israel thrived despite the new rule changes that were put in place because the public complained about last year’s pro-Israel results.
Will Bettan’s strong finish change anyone’s mind about Israel? One never knows exactly, but it doesn’t hurt to have a handsome amazing singer shine on the global stage.
This marks the third consecutive year that Israel has had a great song and performer, and finished in the top 5. Last year, Israel came in second with Yuval Raphael’s “New Day Will Rise.” She received 297 public votes, the most of any competitor, but only 60 jury points, the fewest of any in the top seven. In 2024, Israel finished fifth with Eden Golan’s “Hurricane.” She received 323 points from public votes, the second most in the competition, but only 50 from the jury, the lowest number of any in the top 10.
Israel finishing second for the second consecutive year once again shows a country that beats the odds and shows greatness.
The author is a writer based in New York.
Uncategorized
Even After a Terrorist Attack and Royal Commission, Australia Doesn’t Take Antisemitism Seriously
Demonstrators gather outside Flinders Street Station during a protest against Israeli President Isaac Herzog’s state visit to Australia, following a deadly mass shooting at a Hanukkah celebration at Bondi Beach on Dec. 14, 2025, in Melbourne, Australia, Feb.12, 2026. Photo: REUTERS/Tracey Nearmy
This is not only an Australian story. Jewish communities across the diaspora are living through the same reality. People have been murdered. Jews have been attacked in the streets. Jewish institutions have been threatened and forced to operate under continuously heightened security. Students have been targeted on campus. Families have been made to think twice before being visibly Jewish in public.
The details differ, but the pattern is painfully familiar. Australia is part of a broader failure across the world to confront antisemitism with the seriousness it demands.
For more than two years, Jewish Australians have been told that antisemitism has no place here. We have heard statements of concern and promises that hatred will not be tolerated. But it is being tolerated.
This is no longer theoretical. Jewish children are continuing to hide who they are. Students continue to be intimidated. Synagogues, schools, and community institutions are operating under continuously heightened security. Families are asking whether Australia is still a place where Jews can live openly and safely.
Antisemitism has moved into ordinary life. It appears on campuses, in workplaces, online, in public spaces, and in the constant expectation that Jews explain themselves, apologize for themselves or remain silent.
Australia’s Royal Commission into Antisemitism and Social Cohesion was established to examine the rise of antisemitism and its impact on Jewish Australians. A Royal Commission is one of Australia’s most serious public inquiries, with the power to hear evidence and make recommendations that should shape national policy.
That is why this moment matters. Jewish Australians are asking to be heard through the very process Australia has created. They are asking to be protected, and to see existing laws, standards and institutional policies enforced. They are asking for proof that the country understands what is being exposed, including when antisemitism makes Jewish life smaller, more guarded, and less secure.
But the Royal Commission is revealing something deeply uncomfortable. Even as Jewish Australians give evidence, much of the broader community is not paying attention. Worse, the process itself has drawn more antisemitism online and in person. When Jews speak about hatred and the response is more hatred, the problem is being demonstrated in real time.
This should alarm every Australian. When Jews describe antisemitism, they are accused of inventing it. When they report intimidation, they are told they are exaggerating. When they ask for protection, they are accused of seeking special treatment. When they call out hatred disguised as politics, they are told they are trying to silence debate.
Australia now faces a clear choice. It can keep speaking about antisemitism as a regrettable social issue, or treat it as the serious threat to public safety, social cohesion, and democratic values that it has become.
Universities remain one of the clearest examples of institutional failure. Too many Jewish students have had to walk past slogans that glorify violence, sit in classes where Israel is demonized beyond any reasonable academic standard, and navigate complaint systems designed to exhaust them rather than protect them.
The same applies beyond campus. Councils, schools, workplaces, sporting bodies, cultural institutions, and public venues all have a responsibility to ensure antisemitism is not normalized under the banner of politics.
Anti-Zionism, when it denies Jewish people the same right to self-determination afforded to others, or holds Jews collectively responsible for Israel, is not legitimate criticism. Israel can be criticized. But when that criticism becomes a demand that the Jewish state alone should not exist, uses Nazi comparisons, justifies terrorism, or treats every Jew as a proxy for Israel, it crosses a line too often ignored.
The test is whether Australia can stop enabling antisemitism. That means policing hate speech and intimidation, online accountability, proper security support for vulnerable Jewish institutions, and consequences for institutions that fail to protect Jewish Australians.
For too long, Jewish communities across the diaspora have been asked to explain the problem while others debate whether it is real. It is real. It is not only a Jewish problem. It is a warning sign for every democratic society.
Because in Australia, as across the diaspora, the question is no longer whether antisemitism exists. Jewish communities know it does. A Royal Commission now exists because the problem has become impossible to ignore. The question is whether our leaders, institutions and society have the courage to act before even more damage is done.
Michael Gencher is Executive Director of StandWithUs Australia, an international nonpartisan education organization that supports Israel and fights antisemitism.
Uncategorized
Amid Conspiracy Theories, Eurovision Proves Ordinary People Are Still Willing to Treat Israel Fairly
Noam Bettan, representing Israel, performs “Michelle” during the dress rehearsal 2 of the Grand Final of the 2026 Eurovision Song Contest, in Vienna, Austria, May 15, 2026. Photo: REUTERS/Lisa Leutner
For many Americans, Eurovision requires a brief explanation. It is a massive annual international music competition involving dozens of countries across Europe and nearby regions, watched by hundreds of millions of people. And because much of the Arab world boycotted Israel culturally and politically after 1948 — excluding it from most regional sporting and cultural frameworks — Israel was integrated into European competitions instead.
Much like the situation where Israeli soccer teams must qualify for the World Cup through Europe rather than through the Middle East, Israel competes in Eurovision through the European broadcasting system.
For years now, Eurovision has followed the same ritualized choreography when it comes to Israel.
There are protests outside the arena. Activists demand Israel’s exclusion. Broadcasters openly question whether Israel should even participate. Some performers posture about morality and “complicity.” Social media floods with denunciations. Major media outlets, like The New York Times, publish innuendo-filled pieces implying Israel is somehow manipulating the contest through “soft power,” aggressive promotion, or shadowy mobilization campaigns.
And then the public votes for Israel at — or near — the top anyway.
The pressure campaign against Israel exploded after October 7, 2023, but the politicization predates October 7 by years.
Israel historically performed extremely well at Eurovision, winning in 1978, 1979, 1998, and again in 2018 with Netta Barzilai’s “Toy.” For decades, Israel was treated largely as a normal — if occasionally controversial — participant.
That changed during the 2010s, alongside the rise of intersectional activist politics, the normalization of BDS rhetoric in cultural spaces, and the growing effort to frame Israel as not merely controversial, but as uniquely illegitimate.
Netta’s 2018 victory was an early warning sign. The backlash quickly escalated from criticism of the song itself to claims that Israel should not host Eurovision (as all winners do) because the contest was supposedly “laundering apartheid.”
After October 7, the situation became impossible to ignore.
Israel increasingly received weak jury scores while performing dramatically better with the public vote. Ordinary viewers and elite opinion were diverging sharply.
That pattern repeated this year with Israel’s multilingual ballad “Michelle,” performed by Noam Bettan.
Last year, Israel’s “New Day Will Rise,” performed by Yuval Raphael — herself a survivor of the Nova massacre — triggered a frenzy of insinuations about “manipulated” voting after she finished second despite ranking only 15th with the professional juries.
This year, “Michelle” briefly surged into the overall lead during the public vote reveal but ultimately finished second as Bulgaria secured the win with far stronger professional jury support.
And once again, the reaction was not: “perhaps the public genuinely liked the song.”
Instead, Israel’s success is cast as both suspect and suspicious.
Apparently, Israel promoting its Eurovision entry is now evidence of sinister “soft power” — despite Eurovision itself being essentially one giant soft-power competition.
Countries spend heavily promoting themselves through Eurovision. The contest has always been part music competition, part tourism campaign, part national branding exercise, and part geopolitical theater in sequins.
Host countries market tourism and national identity through the contest. Governments support contestants. National broadcasters campaign aggressively. Diaspora and regional voting blocs have existed for decades and are openly joked about every year.
None of this becomes scandalous unless Israel succeeds.
Because increasingly, Israel is not treated as a normal country participating in international cultural life, but as a uniquely illegitimate presence whose success must always be explained away as manipulation, coercion, propaganda, or hidden influence — an impulse that mirrors classic antisemitic patterns.
In fact, many journalists now deploy this double standard so reflexively they no longer even recognize it.
But the deeper issue here is not really the Eurovision itself. It is the widening divide between institutional opinion and public sentiment.
The Eurovision voting system makes this unusually visible. Countries award separate “professional jury” votes and public televotes. Under Eurovision rules, countries cannot televote for themselves. Meanwhile, countries like Britain, France, Ukraine, Poland, and Romania possess diaspora populations vastly larger than the global Jewish population.
Yet when Israel performs strongly with the public vote, conspiracy theories immediately emerge.
The global Jewish population is roughly 15 million people — about half living in Israel, with much of the diaspora concentrated in the United States, where Eurovision remains relatively niche in mainstream culture. The notion that diaspora Jews are secretly overpowering Europe’s vastly larger voting populations through coordinated televoting campaigns collapses under minimal scrutiny.
The problem for many activists is not Israel’s Eurovision strategy. It is that the public itself keeps refusing to behave correctly.
The public keeps voting for the Israelis anyway — likely because Israeli entries are often among the competition’s strongest. And because many ordinary viewers probably recoil from the increasingly hysterical effort to turn Israeli artists into untouchables.
That effort has increasingly backfired.
Several left-wing European broadcasters and political actors spent years trying to pressure Eurovision organizers to ban Israel entirely. When that failed, some shifted toward symbolic boycotts and public distancing campaigns.
Yet despite the protests, the media pressure, the activist intimidation, and despite professional juries that increasingly appear politically or socially pressured not to reward Israel too generously, Israel still finished second again this year — propelled overwhelmingly by ordinary viewers.
That is the real story.
This does not mean European publics are uniformly pro-Israel. They are not. But many appear to recognize that the obsession with Israel is wildly disproportionate and often reflects something deeper than policy disagreement: hostility toward Jewish national legitimacy itself.
That distinction mattered even more after October 7.
Because while large segments of the Western media rapidly attempted to reframe Israelis from massacre victims into primary villains almost immediately after the largest single-day slaughter of Jews since the Holocaust, millions of ordinary people watched what actually happened.
They saw civilians butchered in homes. Families burned alive. Young people massacred at a music festival. Women dragged into Gaza. Babies kidnapped. Holocaust survivors taken hostage.
And despite relentless efforts afterward to flatten chronology, causation, and moral categories, many people never fully accepted the demand that Israelis immediately cede to an assigned role as uniquely illegitimate global pariahs. That, for parts of Europe’s activist and media class, is the real scandal.
Micha Danzig is an attorney, former IDF soldier, and former NYPD officer. He writes widely on Israel, Zionism, antisemitism, and Jewish history. He serves on the board of Herut North America.
