The Meaning of Community: Belonging and Identity in Challenging Times

A year and so ago, I bought a Chanukah shirt for my daughter, Naomi, 8. Unlike many Chanukah shirts, this one didn’t really have any Chanukah elements on it — it was a blue shirt with a gigantic Star of David on the front. Naomi loved that shirt and wore it all year long. She wore it when she went to school, to a friend’s house, or to parties. She walked around with this big Star of David.  

Last November, only six weeks after Oct. 7, she wanted to put on this shirt to go out for breakfast with her auntie. This time, worrying about her safety, I decided to ask her not to wear it. I started that difficult conversation by asking her why she loved the shirt so much. Her answer was, “Because this is who I am.”  

I never thought I would find myself in a situation where I would ask my child to hide who she is.  

Heartbroken, I shared this experience with good non-Jewish friends of ours. To my surprise, their first reaction was: “Isn’t this beautiful, that she knows who she is? Where she belongs?” 

She belongs.  

When we think of the notion of community we think about it in a tangible form. We look at the number of people who go to service, go to programs, participate in activities, mark lifecycle events, and celebrate the holidays. However, the feeling of belonging goes much deeper than that.  

A community is where you feel belong, where you feel a connection. Something that you feel is also yours; you are part of it. It is what helps you know who you are. Community is not created by Jewish institutions. It is not a “product” that you buy by donating to the Jewish Federation or paying membership fees to your congregation. The community is you. It is the relationships you create, it is your involvement with other people, it is the connection you make by showing up, by caring, and by giving of your time and money. The Jewish institutions are here to be the project managers and the executors. The community is all about the people.  

However, the truth is, in today’s environment, creating a community is not as easy as it sounds. Many people seek to see the organized Jewish community as providing a sense of unity, a sense of responsibility for all Jews, and a centralized Jewish voice. We assume that others think like us, and act accordingly. What happens with those who don’t? Where do they go? What does this mean for the future of our community?  

It is hard to remember, especially these days, that our community is not about all of us feeling and thinking the same. It is also not about unifying ourselves. It is not about speaking in one voice, because the truth is, we do not share the same voice. The community is about us feeling that we belong.  

The way to make people feel a sense of belonging is by making people feel welcome, respected, and included, despite their differences. These differences can be cultural, social, and political. The latter has been the most challenging one. So many in our community have reached out to me in the past eight months, expressing how they are afraid to share what they think about the war in Israel. They just want to talk. Have a conversation. Raise questions and share their feelings and their confusion. It does not mean that they do not love Israel, or do not care about the Jewish community. On the contrary, they are craving their space within the community. A space to feel included. To belong.  

We too often forget that argument is at the core of our Jewish identity. Doubting and raising questions is what makes us so unique. This is who we are. We should embrace it, not feel threatened by it.  

Let’s make our community a place where people can share what they think, and respect what others think. Let’s make it a place that mends so many of the tensions that we are experiencing right now, and probably will only get worse. Let’s prevent it from becoming worse. Let’s remember that at the end of the day, we are all Jewish and we want to be part of the Jewish community. The community can be as diverse as our opinions.   

Let’s talk. Let’s disagree. And agree that it is okay.  

Once we do that, more people will feel safe to be who they are. To express what they think, and to develop their patience toward people who don’t think like them. It is not as hard as it sounds, if we don’t expect the community to be exactly as we are.  

Naomi, my daughter, is only 8 (almost 9!), but she knows that. She knows she has the right to be who she is, to hold her own opinions, even if they are different than others. She asks questions, she argues. She knows she is Jewish. She belongs.