I just came home from my fourth trip to Israel—my third with a Federation connection. As a member of the Peoplehood 7 cohort, I am deeply grateful for this unforgettable opportunity and even more so for sharing it with my 11 fellow “Peeps.”
Before the trip, we had only met five times in person, plus one Zoom with our Israeli cohort, which left me feeling a bit apprehensive. But from the moment we came together, the magic was undeniable. I know this is just the beginning, and I can’t wait for what’s ahead.
There’s no feeling like landing in Israel and knowing—you’re home.
Even with the backdrop of war and the nerves leading up to our departure, the moment I stepped off the plane, my body exhaled a sigh of relief. A calm washed over me, impossible to put into words, as I made my way to Passport Control.
This trip was built around our partner communities—Rishon LeZion, Ofakim/Merchavim, Arad, and Kibbutz Erez. Each community reflects the people who live there, each one unique and special. Our shared Jewish values connect them to one another and to us.
Meeting our Israeli hosts that first evening felt like being a kid in a candy store—pure excitement. The ruach in the room was electric, laughter and energy bouncing off the walls.
Throughout the week, there were moments that took my breath away. Moments that made me pause. That made me cry, made me laugh, filled me with hope, and reminded me how much we all have in common.
Jews in Israel and Jews in the Diaspora? We each “Jew” in our own way, but we are all connected.
One of the most meaningful days for me was our second together. That morning, we visited the Nova site, followed by Kibbutz Erez, and in the evening, we welcomed Shabbat with our host families. It was a day of overwhelming emotions.
Nothing prepares you for standing at Nova, looking into the faces staring back at you.
I felt like an intruder in this most sacred space. The presence of these beautiful souls—people who just wanted to dance, to live in peace—was palpable. As I walked through, reading each memorial, I had to remind myself to breathe.
And yet, I was struck by the beauty created there. I know “beauty” feels like an odd word given the absolute horror of the massacre, but the love of life expressed at Nova is a powerful tribute to those lost—and to the unbreakable spirit of the Israeli people.
We had the privilege of hearing from two survivors: Dor, who was in charge of security at Nova, and Saguy, an officer who had just arrived for his shift when the attack began. They shared their stories of survival—testaments not just to their bravery but to who we are as Jews.
Next, we traveled to Kibbutz Erez.
As we drove in, I immediately understood its appeal—the fruit trees, the close-knit community, the warmth. It’s a beautiful place.
After a quick snack stop, we toured the kibbutz and learned what had happened there on October 7. Again, it could have been even worse. We picked oranges and enjoyed a delicious picnic lunch before heading off for Shabbat (I think I ate more oranges than actual lunch!). I was heartened to learn that many residents have returned, and plans for expansion are already underway. Always looking forward.
Spending Shabbat with my host and her extended family was incredibly special. The warmth, the exuberance, the love—it was everything.
And let’s not even talk about the food!
It didn’t matter that not everyone spoke English or that I didn’t speak Hebrew. They made me feel like part of the family. The house buzzed with passionate conversation, laughter, and joy. I loved that everyone came to dinner in whatever they felt comfortable in—nothing formal. In my jeans, I was overdressed.
But none of that mattered.
The emotions of the day ran the full spectrum—from the weight of Nova in the morning to the resilience of Erez in the afternoon and, finally, the warmth of Shabbat at night. And this was just our second day together.
That feeling of connection—of being part of something bigger than myself—stayed with me throughout the trip. It deepened my love for Israel and her incredible people.
Because at the end of the day, Peoplehood means mishpacha (family).