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She was a dancer who leapt to the top of her field — then the Trump administration fired her
When she walked up to the Kennedy Center on the first day of her internship in 2013, she was Jane Rabinovitz, a recent grad from William & Mary, fresh off a stint as stage manager for an Argentine aerial tango company performing in Miami, and newly determined to forge a career in the arts.
By the time security escorted her out with her personal belongings 12 years later, she was Jane (Rabinovitz) Raleigh, a veteran employee who’d risen in the ranks to become director of dance programming. In August, she and her small team were fired amidst the upheaval fomented by President Donald Trump, who in his second term has installed himself as Kennedy Center chairman and attempted to reshape the institution.

The team was dismissed on a Thursday. By Monday, the center announced its new dance director: former Washington Ballet dancer Stephen Nakagawa. Raleigh was hardly shocked. She’d known since early March about the letter Nakagawa had sent to Richard Grenell, the center’s new president, praising Trump and lamenting “radical leftist ideologies” and the “rise of ‘woke’ culture” in the ballet world.
For six months, Raleigh saw firsthand that “what was happening inside of the Kennedy Center very much mirrored the general chaos that was happening in the government, the DOGE experience that people were having,” she told me over Zoom from her home in D.C. “You’re watching the chess pieces be moved around the board, but it’s people’s lives.”
“There was definitely an overarching feeling of waiting for the shoe to drop,” Raleigh said. “I was committed to staying until I was removed,” she added. But “I did believe from the beginning that everyone would be fired at some point.”
When her time came, the choreography felt familiar. “The cadence of it mirrored what had been happening at the center for many months,” she said. In some cases, entire teams were erased and their programs sunset. In other cases, like hers, “the leader would be fired, and then one, two, or three days later, a new person would just show up.” Often, she said, that person had some connection to Trump or Grenell. (Grenell and the Kennedy Center press office have not responded to multiple requests for comment.)
In the five or seven minutes Raleigh said it took for her and her two assistant managers to be fired, she was informed that this move was the result of “a loss of confidence in my leadership and a loss of confidence in the team’s ability to align with leadership’s vision.”
According to Raleigh, Grenell had communicated that vision in a meeting only the previous week, suggesting they present more “broadly appealing” programming in the vein of So You Think You Can Dance or Paula Abdul. She left the conversation with “a directive to start exploring more commercial offerings,” and immediately began reaching out to agents to pursue it. But before she had a chance to share a proposal, the team was out.
“I didn’t really have a chance to even try,” she said.
From Purim spiels and horas to a career in the arts
Raleigh was born in Washington, D.C., and raised just across the river in Virginia by her Jewish father — that’s the Rabinovitz — and her Catholic mother. Theirs was a mixed household, like the one Raleigh now shares with her husband, who grew up Catholic. But her parents decided to raise their kids Jewish and joined Temple Rodef Shalom, a reform synagogue in Falls Church, Virginia.

A language lover and future Spanish major, Raleigh “ate up” Hebrew school lessons, even “practicing writing secret notes in Hebrew to myself,” she said. She connected to her Jewish community primarily through the arts. She sang in the youth choir and later became a founding member of the teen choir, Kol Machar. And for many years she performed in the Purim spiels her dad wrote and directed as a hobby. One year when she was in college, the woman playing Esther dropped out of the Tarzan-themed Purim spiel at the last minute. “My dad called me,” she recalled, “and he was like, either you can be Esther or I’m gonna have to be Esther.”
Raleigh danced a formative hora at her bat mitzvah and another at her wedding a few years ago. “The hora and Jewish artistic experiences have always been a moment to blend my Jewish life and my secular life,” said Raleigh.
In her secular life, she trained seriously in ballet. She minored in dance at William & Mary, led the student dance company, and interned one summer at the American Dance Festival. Soon after graduation, she decided to pursue a career in the arts instead. She grew up going to the Kennedy Center frequently, so that’s where she went.
Her path there led from intern all the way up to dance director. Raleigh curated ballet seasons and contracted, budgeted, and presented both ballet and contemporary dance with an eye toward exposing audiences to a broader variety of work. She brought in Alonzo King LINES Ballet from San Francisco for their Kennedy Center debut in 2024, for example, introducing audiences familiar with classical, narrative productions to a more contemporary vision of ballet by an important living artist.
Raleigh says she felt lucky to put the center’s ample resources to use to support local and emerging artists and present some of the world’s best companies in a worthy setting. “I frequently would have striking moments of realization sitting in the Opera House, when the curtains would go up on shows that I’d be working on,” she said.
“That sense of wonder,” she added, “does not go away.”
A Trump tailspin
Trump took little interest in the Kennedy Center during his first term. He never attended performances back then, Raleigh said, though his daughter Ivanka Trump frequently came to the ballet. Like other presidents before him, he did appoint new members to the historically bipartisan board; Raleigh said she worked closely over the years with a few who were “real ballet supporters.” Unlike his predecessors, Trump repeatedly skipped the annual Kennedy Center Honors.

“We had lived through a previous term, so there was certainly no expectation that anything would be different,” Raleigh said. Until Trump posted on social media in February, shortly after his second inauguration, announcing his intentions to take over as chairman, oust board members, and shake up programming in order to “make the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C. GREAT AGAIN” and usher in “a Golden Age in Arts and Culture.”
Raleigh found out about Trump’s plan when the public did. At first, she didn’t give it much credence — Trump had said a lot of things during his first administration that he hadn’t acted upon, she said. However, it quickly became clear he would follow through this time, and it “put everybody into a tailspin.”
The purge began immediately. Several board members and longtime chair David Rubenstein were dismissed and replaced by Trump and his appointees. Center president Deborah Rutter was removed after an 11-year tenure, to be succeeded by Grenell.
“Every single day you would come in and be like, what will have happened today?” Raleigh said. A pattern emerged where “basically every payday Friday was mass firings day.” Sometimes it was three people, she remembered, and sometimes 20. Those waves of dismissals were “the most chaotic, traumatic, repeatedly painful thing.”
In response to the uncertainty and upheaval, staff at the Kennedy Center began working to form a union. “The Kennedy Center’s new management has communicated its intention to radically alter the Center’s programming priorities, eliminate staff, and dismantle our mission-essential programs,” the union website states. “We no longer believe our institution trusts us and we no longer trust our institution.” Raleigh said her team participated in the organizing effort — which members hoped would help them fight to protect jobs, working conditions, creative autonomy, and more — and she was vocal in backing it.
When she and her team were notified around 11:40 a.m. on Aug. 21 of a meeting that was to take place in the HR suite five minutes later, they knew what was coming. It took just a few minutes for HR and legal to fire them and hand over their termination paperwork, Raleigh recalled.
On the way back to their desks, Raleigh and her team sent a few texts to share the news and “staff from every corner of the building” showed up, as they had done for others so many times by then. They had an hour to say goodbye, get their things, and get out.
Suddenly jobless, they set up at her apartment, divvied up the list of artists they were presenting in the upcoming season, and called them all to share the unfortunate update. It felt particularly difficult to digest the fact that they couldn’t be behind the scenes to support the performances scheduled to take place that weekend as part of the center’s local dance commissioning project. “The piece was about how Black women can support other Black women and femmes to have rest and resilience in the world,” Raleigh said. Without a team, they worried, “Who’s going to take care of this piece of art?”
Next steps
Raleigh’s fears extend beyond the Kennedy Center. She told me she’s concerned about the fate of dance and the arts in the face of the “dismantling, essentially, of the NEA” by the Trump administration and recent shifts by key arts funders, with reports that longtime supporters like the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, Doris Duke Foundation, and Ford Foundation are now focusing on other priorities. And all this while arts organizations are still recovering from the pandemic’s crushing blow.
“The dance field has not been in a moment of incredible glory and surplus in my entire lifetime,” Raleigh said. So while the current state of affairs is “horrible,” perhaps “this is a moment for us to be thinking about what are new ways and new paths that we can chart going forward.”

Since her departure from the Kennedy Center, she’s been focused not only on the search for a new full-time job, but also on launching the DC Dance Network. It’s an effort to connect artists to resources and one another. “If we want to build a better fabric, a more supportive fabric, of the dance community nationally, why not start at the tiniest, most local version?” said Raleigh, whose fledgling organization announced its first commission in early November.
Living through the turmoil at the Kennedy Center and witnessing the tumult in the government “has totally transformed my approach to community, my approach to what it means to be a good neighbor,” Raleigh said. “This idea is very Jewish, that we’re commanded to do mitzvot so that we have the opportunity to do more in the future, that we’re compelled to repair the world through tikkun olam. All of that has really been informed from my Jewish childhood.”
She’s stayed in touch with her former colleagues and the union and participated in advocacy efforts. She was part of a group that showed up at the Kennedy Center to personally deliver a petition with more than 1,600 signatures collected by Hands Off the Arts demanding the organization reinstate wrongfullly terminated employees, recognize the union, and more. “They’re not getting off the hook,” she said.
Raleigh is waiting to see what kind of dance season, if any, the Kennedy Center announces for 2026-27. It remains to be seen which companies will agree to perform there and whether audiences will attend. In the meantime, Raleigh’s been heartened to see that none of her programming — which runs through June 2026 — seems to have been changed or canceled.
And she’s returned as a spectator, back in the seats where she fell in love with the arts as a kid. In October, she went to see the Stuttgart Ballet perform at the Kennedy Center for the first time in more than 30 years. At the first intermission, the older woman sitting next to her — who said she’d seen the company during their last visit — turned to Raleigh and said, “Isn’t this amazing?!”
“In that moment, we were just audience members having the same transformative experience at the ballet,” Raleigh said. “She clearly didn’t know who I was,” Raleigh added, and “I just got to revel in the ballet with her.”
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Gene Shalit, a mensch with a personality as big as his mustache, turns 100
The television entertainment personality Gene Shalit, who celebrated his centenary on March 25, semaphored a Jewish appearance for decades to viewers of NBC’s early morning gabfest The Today Show.
With his Jew-fro hairstyle that fascinated celebrity interviewees and his abundant mustache that outdid Groucho Marx’s mere greasepaint simulacrum, Shalit was one of a kind. Born in New York City in 1926, he clearly aimed to be recognizable even through half-opened bleary eyes of half-asleep viewers. And audible too. Shalit’s precise pronunciation, always at a vigorous decibel level, sought to be comprehensible even during voiceovers. The Canadian comedian Eugene Levy, transfixed by this persona, imitated him on SCTV roaring at high decibel levels.
In one skit, Levy embodied Shalit with haimish affection, hawking a remedy for a migraine presumably caused by his own bellowing. In another, Levy spoofed Hollywood celebrities who were notorious fressers at local restaurants, including the American Jewish actress Shelley Winters (born Shirley Schrift). In still another lampoon, Levy-as-Shalit danced and also kibitzed with the late Catherine O’Hara as the Jewish gossip columnist Rona Barrett (born Burstein).
Shalit apparently kvelled at the notion that he was prominent enough in media culture to be affectionately kidded like other Jewish noteworthies Levy imitated, including Howard Cosell, Henry Kissinger, Menachem Begin, Milton Berle, Judd Hirsch, Jack Carter, James Caan, Lorne Greene, Norman Mailer and Neil Sedaka.
Years later, Levy recalled that when the SCTV comedy troupe was invited to appear on The Today Show, before the segment was filmed, chairs were arranged so that Catherine O’Hara was seated next to Shalit. Suddenly Shalit exclaimed: “Wait a minute, shouldn’t the person who [imitates] me be sitting beside me?” Another Jewish comedian, Jon Lovitz, would likewise attempt to imitate Shalit on Saturday Night Live, but without the zest of Levy’s indelible incarnation.

Shalit once told showbiz reporter Eileen Prose that at first, his looks limited him to radio jobs in more conventional times for TV talent. By the more liberated late 1960s, when long hair and a hirsute upper lip were more common, he was hired as quasi-permanent house Jew on The Today Show. Although his mustache fit the counterculture in the mode of Jewish activist Jerry Rubin’s, Shalit as an aspiring journalist may have grown his facial hair more in tribute to earlier literati like the playwright William Saroyan or the eminent humorist Mark Twain.
At times, Shalit’s appearance could be clown-like or cartoonish, so it was natural that characters inspired by him would appear on animated series such as SpongeBob SquarePants and Family Guy as well as The Muppet Show.
Famous interviewees like Peter Sellers were plainly at ease with Shalit’s persona. A conversation filmed shortly before Sellers’ untimely death was cordial, with the sometimes tetchy actor on his best behavior, acknowledging Shalit as a fellow entertainer. And with Mel Brooks in 1987, Shalit looked to be in paradise.
A warm-hearted empathizer and enthusiast, Shalit was more suited to promoting films than criticizing them. In 1989, a tzimmes occurred when a memo drafted by Bryant Gumbel, a Today Show colleague, deemed Shalit a “specialist in gushing over actors and directors” and added that Shalit’s interviews “aren’t very good.” To his credit, Shalit minimized the controversy, telling The Los Angeles Times that Gumbel’s disses were “not big whacks.”
“Listen, I’ve been interviewing people on the show for 17 years,” Shalit said. “I must be doing something right.”

Part of his inspiration was a sincere appreciation for humor, Jewish and otherwise. His 1987 anthology, Laughing Matters featured contributions by Jewish wits such as Dorothy Parker, S. J. Perelman, Woody Allen, Fran Lebowitz, Samuel Hoffenstein, Philip Roth, Mel Brooks, George S. Kaufman, Milt Gross, Arthur Kober, Leo Rosten, Allan Sherman, Max Shulman, Calvin Trillin, Rube Goldberg, Sam Gross, Roz Chast, B. Kliban, Robert Mankoff, J. B. Handelsman, Jules Feiffer and George Burns. The volume was dedicated to, among others, the Jewish screenwriter Samson Raphaelson, who was Shalit’s instructor at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign.
His visceral reaction to Jewish parody was such that during one commuter train ride, Shalit admitted in a preface, Perelman’s story “No Starch in the Dhoti, S’il Vous Plait” caused a conductor to lean down with concern, stating: “A passenger says you’re crying.” To which Shalit retorted, choking and rubbing away tears: “I’m laughing.”
The subliminal message of Shalit’s book was that without Jews, America would have distinctly fewer tears of laughter. And he regretted not being able to include funny Jews like Jack Benny and Ed Wynn whose performances could not be transferred to the printed page.
Shalit also reviewed books for years. Sticking firmly to the content of cultural products with a few brief hints of value judgment, Shalit seemed to have neither the time nor presumably the inclination to subject new items to analysis of Freudian intensity. He clearly preferred boosting things to panning them, and when a film displeased Shalit, he could be uncomfortable saying so.
One occasion when Shalit raised hackles was his response on The Today Show to the 2005 film Brokeback Mountain. Shalit described one of the gay characters as a “sexual predator.” The LGBTQ media group GLAAD objected to Shalit’s characterization as a homophobic stereotype. Shalit’s son Peter wrote an open letter to GLAAD, identifying himself as a gay physician with a Seattle practice helping the gay community. Peter Shalit admitted that his father “did not get” the film in question, but was “not a homophobe.” He might have added that his father had even included an excerpt from Harvey Fierstein’s Torch Song Trilogy in the aforementioned humor collection.
Shalit followed up with his own apology, stating in a mensch-like way that he did not intend to cast “aspersions on anyone in the gay community or on the community itself.” When Shalit finally retired from broadcasting at age 84, with the Yiddish-inflected declaration: “It’s enough, already,” he left behind admiring viewers and decades of bonhomie as one of morning television’s most genial protagonists.
Mazel tov, Gene Shalit. Biz hundert un tsvantsik (May you live until 120)!
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How a song about the food chain became a Seder mainstay
I’m almost positive I heard about the old lady who swallowed a fly before the father who bought a goat for two zuzim.
This occurred to me a few years ago while riding in my sister’s minivan. My niece was in her car seat fidgeting with a toy that plays a catalogue of public domain children’s songs. But unlike the version I’d grown up hearing, where the old lady’s ravenous habit of devouring ever-larger animals is met with the prognostic shrug of “perhaps she’ll die,” the refrain was changed to the more kid-friendly “oh me oh my.”
The Seder tune “Chad Gadya,” which involves a quite similar conceit, has no such timidity when it comes to the ravages of death.
Jack Black once described it as the “original heavy metal song” for the way it progresses along the chain of life from a little goat bought for two zuzim, to the cat who ate the goat, to the dog who bit the cat, all the way up to the angel of death. (“Very Black Sabbath.”)
It is pretty metal — in a kosher Kidz Bop, tot Shabbat kinda way. But why we sing it should, in Jewish circles, be as popular a seasonal question as what a bunny with a clutch of eggs has to do with Jesus’ resurrection. (Some Haggadot explain the greater significance of “Chad Gadya;” my Maxwell House does not.)
Dating the song or rooting out its precise origins is not easy.
As historian Henry Abramson wrote, scholars have noted the song’s similarities to a late Medieval German folk rhyme. While the fact that it is mostly in Aramaic, not the vernacular in Europe in the Middle Ages, suggests an earlier provenance, it is missing from extant Sephardic and Yemenite Haggadot, where one would expect to find texts originating in the language, and the Aramaic itself has many errors.
Abramson reasons that, given the surviving written versions, it was likely adapted sometime in the 14th century from a German children’s rhyme called “The Foreman that Sent Jockel Out,” about an idler named Jockel who a foreman tries to rouse to fieldwork with an escalating series of messengers, ending with a hangman. (Abramson notes the original is characterized by “some Teutonic weirdness,” like a witch sent to subdue a vulture.)
“Chad Gadya” belongs, like its Seder companion “Echad Mi Yodea,” to a genre called “cumulative song,” where verses build with new information a la “12 Days of Christmas.” But “Chad Gadya” stands out for its strangeness and its more oblique message.
Abramson and others see the goat, small and vulnerable, standing in for the Jewish people, and the ensuing parade of antagonists corresponding to historical enemies (Assyrians, Babylonians) and periods of time (Exodus, various conquests), ending with redemption in the Messianic age when the Holy One smites death.
As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks wrote in a commentary for his Haggadah, the song “teaches the great truth of Jewish hope: that though many nations (symbolized by the cat, the dog, and so on) attacked Israel (the goat), each in turn has vanished into oblivion.”
That this truth is conveyed in song, with much banging on the table or animal noises, speaks to the centrality of children in the Passover Seder. And, some think, its inclusion serves a practical purpose: keeping the kids awake through the last leg of a long ritual meal.
My own interpretation is admittedly less lofty. I don’t think of Israel’s tribulations. I do think of the abundance of stray cats in Jerusalem, said to have originated during the British mandate when the city had a rat problem.
And, in the years since my own days as designated Four Questions asker, I’ve been reading “Chad Gadya” into non-Jewish contexts. “The White Cat,” off of Mitski’s new album, Nothing’s About to Happen to Me, contains a lyric that recalls the song, only altered to be a metaphor for the predations of capitalism.
In it, the speaker says she must work to pay for the cat’s house and “for the bugs who drink my blood/and the birds who eat those bugs/so that white cat can kill the birds.”
These cycles speak across cultures and time because they represent a fundamental rule of nature: There’s always a bigger fish (or cat or dog or stick).
To erase death from the equation, like my niece’s toy does with that hapless, insect-ingesting pensioner, is a concession to today’s sensitivities. That’s not to say “The Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly” represents anything more homiletic than a choking hazard warning, but in the case of “Chad Gadya,” death is the story, and an end to death is the hope.
“The Haggadah ends with the death of death in eternal life,” Rabbi Sacks concluded his drash on the song, which ends when God strikes down the Angel of Death. “A fitting end for the story of a people dedicated to Moshe’s great command, ‘Choose life.’”
I know it’s a principle of faith all over the Haggadah, but I’m more agnostic as to that Messianic promise and maybe more in the camp of our old lady. My understanding of Jewishness, which accords with Moshe’s command, says life is best lived knowing that — perhaps — we’ll die.
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Katz: ‘Israel’s Goal in Lebanon is to Disarm Hezbollah’
Then-Israeli transportation minister Israel Katz attends the cabinet meeting at the Prime Minister’s office in Jerusalem, Feb. 17, 2019. Katz currently serves as the foreign minister. Photo: Sebastian Scheiner/Pool via REUTERS
i24 News – Israel’s Defense Minister Israel Katz held a situation assessment Friday with senior military and defense officials, reiterating that the country’s policy in Lebanon remains focused on disarming Hezbollah by military and political means. Katz emphasized that the goal applies “regardless of the Iran issue” and pledged continued protection for Israeli northern communities.
Katz said the Israel Defense Forces are completing ground maneuvers up to the anti-tank line to prevent direct threats to border towns. He outlined plans to demolish houses in villages near the border that serve as Hezbollah outposts, citing previous operations in Rafah and Khan Yunis in Gaza as models.
The Defense Minister added that the IDF will maintain security control over the Litani area and that the return of 600,000 residents of southern Lebanon who had evacuated north will not be permitted until northern communities’ safety is ensured. Katz also reaffirmed that the IDF will continue targeting Hezbollah leaders and operatives across Lebanon, noting that 1,000 terrorists have already been eliminated since the start of the current campaign.
“We promised security to the northern towns, and that is exactly what we will do,” Katz said. He further warned that the IDF will act decisively against rocket fire from Lebanon, stating that Hezbollah “will pay heavy prices.”
