The Jewish Agency’s Strategic Plan: Now For the Hard Part…

“At a time when the Jewish Agency should be looking ahead to improving its role at the nexus of the emerging world Jewish polity… the Agency must complete putting its own house in order in whatever way it chooses to do so before it can truly play the leading role that it must on the world Jewish scene.” Daniel J. Elazar  z”l The Jewish Agency: Historic Role and Current Crisis (1992)

Last week in Jerusalem the Board of Governors of the Jewish Agency approved its new strategic plan, one that The Jerusalem Post called “the most significant redefinition of the Jewish Agency’s purpose since the declaration of the state.”  Without question, the Agency has set off on a path that, while uncharted, is also grounded in the belief that the fundamental challenges of the Jewish future require fundamental changes in the strategic direction of the Jewish Agency.  If the past 81 years of the Jewish Agency has been about helping the development of a state, the new direction of the Agency squarely focuses on helping the development of a people that, in turn, can continue to help build a nation. In sum, just as the history of Israel and the Jewish Agency are testaments to the power of nation-building by aliyah, the new strategic plan is an experiment of nation-building 2.0 by identity.

This experiment has a substantial amount of risk, especially since it proposes to not only transform the Agency, but also to transform the nature of Israel-Diaspora relations. By staking its future on the engines of Israel experience that impact Jewish identity and deepen the relationship between the Jewries of the Diaspora and Israel, the Jewish Agency has chosen not just to refocus its efforts, but to redesign its very purpose. It is a bold move by an organization with a history of bold moves.

But in truth, the Agency is also an entity that has struggled with organizational shortcomings, ranging from bureaucracy, inefficiency, misdirection and missed opportunities. Notwithstanding its historic success, it suffers from an organizational design that needs substantial reimagination and a governance structure that requires a significant updating. Equally, the Agency needs to quickly begin implementation while facing the challenges of managing internal politics, external relations and, of course, a need for increased resource development.  Alone each of those challenges requires outstanding execution, together they demand the highest level of administrative excellence. With that in mind, a few suggestions:

1. Reorganization. Without question, the new strategic plan requires a redesign of the administrative and programmatic structure of the Agency. The reorganization is not just needed to align functional responsibilities, but also to create a structure that is adaptable to change. If the past of the Agency has been one of silos, the future must be one of transparency and integrated execution. The leadership must not only have core capabilities, but also must have clear confidence in the future of the plan; this is not a time for half-measures or half-heartedness.
2. Governance. There is no question that the Agency’s leadership is deeply and passionately earnest about the present and the future of the agency. Equally, there is no question that the very same leadership is keenly aware of the need or substantial changes to its governance structure.  The Jewish Agency can and should maintain its unique forum for Jewish leadership to interact, but it must take substantial measures to redefine who that leadership is and how they interact. A board structure that is representative of the partnerships that comprise the historic relationships of the Jewish Agency can exist while also bringing new leadership that also reflects the future foci of the Agency; the key is to develop new pathways to leadership and reduce barriers to participation. There is room for WiseGen and NextGen at the future governance table of the Agency, but first that table needs to be set by existing leadership.
3. Partnerships. The strategic plan calls for new tactics to achieve new goals, including deepening a sense of social activism by under-35 Israelis and Jews in the Diaspora. But these goals cannot be achieved solely be looking inside the organization, they can only be realized by engaging new partners with relevant experience in new ways. There are far to many organizations that have either a skeptical or critical (or both) view of partnering with the Agency; one of the key tasks of the Agency is to create new confidence that partnering with the Jewish Agency will be an experience of excellence.
4. Resource Development. Last, but by no means least, funding the new strategic plan will require a fundamental reorientation of the way the Jewish Agency partners with Keren Hayesod and the Federation system in North America. Equally, it will require a level of engagement with foundations and individual donors that has eluded the Agency in the past. This is a complicated strategy – the future of the Jewish Agency depends on energizing new resources to support new endeavors, while also realigning existing financial resources to meet changing goals. Redeploying existing funds will not be enough to achieve critical success, but waiting for new sources to fund new initiatives will be equally unsuccessful.

The Jewish Agency’s new plan is a reminder of an old fact: nothing worth achieving is easy. The coming weeks and months will be a clear reminder that making a shift of historic proportions requires an effort that is equally historic. During its great history, the Jewish Agency has helped bring more faces to Israel and now it is endeavoring to change the collective face of the nation and people of Israel. But first it must change itself –

and with that, the hard part begins.

Dispatches From Jerusalem: The Jewish Agency and the Future Face of Olim

“After a certain number of years our faces become our biographies. We get to be responsible for our faces.”  – Cynthia Ozick, American author

In the midst of running back and forth among business meetings in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem earlier this week, I was happy to have the rare treat to spend time connecting with a young post-collegiate daughter of a friend from back home.  Mara, a recent olah from Atlanta, has decided to make her life in Israel, finding love with a new fiancée and satisfaction with a new job with an Israeli NGO. A daughter of Young Judean alumni and a product of Jewish day schools in Atlanta, Mara is deeply rooted in her family’s and people’s history and values, and their shared love of Israel. Stepping out of the heat of the day, we met for coffee in a small café within a used bookstore, a perfect setting for sharing a little bit of old biography, a some of discussion of the ongoing drama in the world and even a few words of childhood stories. We sat together, sharing the texts of our lives, each looking from our different vantage points, but nonetheless facing one another.

And that is when, looking at Mara, I realized something important, not only to me, but also to the way we all should look at Aliyah in 2010  – while the need to attract olim has remained the same, the face and biography of the typical olah has changed.

Yes, we still live in a world where aliyah of necessity remains a constant possibility (consider the newest olim from Kyrgyzstan that arrived this week), but the truth of the matter is that necessity is less of likelihood than it has been for generations. As Jewish Agency Chairman Natan Sharansky shared with the Agency Assembly earlier this week, 94% of Jews live in countries with relative freedom and prosperity, with little need to leave these countries under duress or for lack of tolerance. Instead, the majority of the new olim are making ‘aliyah of choice’ – a personal desire to be living in Israel and Israeli society at this unique and extraordinary time in Israel history. These olim come with a different face than the waves of recent olim, they are not fleeing a totalitarian state or an economically devastated area, they are coming because of a sense of pride, an aspiration of change and inspired sense of their Jewish selves. In short, they are coming to Israel because of who they are, not where they are.

So this, in a nutshell, is the changing face of olim – where once it the face was of Jews uprooted from their homes, now it is the face of Jews deeply rooted in their identity. They can make it anywhere, but they want to make it here – here in the homeland of their people and an axis of their identity.  With this change comes an important question: will we meet these changing faces with a new face of the Jewish Agency grounded in helping reinforcing identity and inspire aliyah, or will we look for the faces no longer coming with a face of an Agency that is grounded by unchanging ways? The truth is, it would be responsible to do the former, and wasteful to do the latter.

With that in mind, it is time for the Jewish Agency, as part of its new strategic plan, to look closely at its aliyah operations and make not only strategic decisions regarding the operation of the department, but also the overall strategy of inspiring aliyah. There must always remain a basic ability to assist olim, especially for Jews in need, but the Agency must not only react to the needs of the current olim, it must inspire the future olim – by helping give root to individual identities and then strengthening those roots so they grow all the way back home to Israel.  This will not be easy, and it will take a reimagining of the very way the Agency operates, the way the government of Israel views the role of the Agency and the way the Diaspora Jewry embraces the strategies of the Agency.

Possible? Yes. Achievable? Hopefully. But it will take more than lip service to identity to change the face of aliyah, it will take political courage and new approaches to the Israeli-Diaspora partnerships; and it will take many more biographies and faces…

just like Mara’s.

Dispatches from Jerusalem: The Jewish Agency and the Myth of Collective Bargaining

In recent days, as I have shared with my communally-engaged friends that I would be in Jerusalem for this week’s Jewish Agency meetings, the response has been consistent and all too predictable. First the person expresses jealousy that I get to spend some time in Israel (even in the heat of the summer) and second, they express complete confusion and condolences regarding my involvement in, as they call it, the quicksand that is the modern Jewish Agency. Others also wonder why I (or they) should care about an organization that is purportedly a relic, an instrument of a Jewish time long past. They ask, tongue firmly planted in cheek – isn’t the Jewish Agency something that the leadership of big organizations like Jewish Federations of North America (JFNA) should be addressing on behalf of all of us?

The truth of the matter is this: my friends are right to be jealous of my time in Jerusalem, underestimating the possibilities embodied by a reinvigorated Jewish Agency, and dangerously wrong regarding the abdication of their own personal involvement in the Agency’s future.  In fact, I firmly believe many of my friends and many others make two false assumptions: (1) that we, as communities, individuals, local organizations, donors and foundations, don’t have a stake in the future, and (2) that organizations such as  JFNA have the true ability to represent the overall Federation system (much less North American Jewry as a whole) in shaping the future of the Agency.

Having spent time in the leadership of the Jewish Federation of Greater Atlanta, including as chair of its Allocations Committee, I know this first hand. Several years ago Atlanta and St. Louis started engaging the Jewish Agency directly with respect to outcome based funding for respect to programs in Israel and Minsk, Belarus. In the intervening years, more and more communities like Atlanta are structuring independent relationships with the Jewish Agency, and based on the success of initiatives like Partnership 2000, local leaders have been able to interact with Jewish Agency professionals and programs on a more individualized basis. The more they disintermediate JFNA with respect to their overseas funding, the more these communities become direct (as opposed to indirect) funders, and accordingly their voices must be heard in direct, not just indirect, ways.  In this spirit, the Jewish Agency’s future is not some theoretical issue to be debated in the halls of Jerusalem hotels by JFNA leadership, but is an issue of vital interest to individual Federations and throughout North America.

And that leads us to the myth of collective bargaining vis a vis the Jewish Federations of North America and the Jewish Agency.

One of the first lessons taught to attorneys in contract law is the limits of agency and due authorization – the rule that a person representing an interest must have actual, or at least implied, authority to represent the interests of others. Many years ago, JFNA (then known as UJC) had the apparent authority to represent the interests of the Federation movement in the Jewish Agency, and in most cases had actual authority. Now, the nature of local Federations funding strategies has diminished the ability of JFNA to collectively bargain with the Jewish Agency on behalf of those local Federations – becoming more of a myth than a matter of fact.  Make no mistake, JFNA is still a vital voice at the table, but the table isn’t the same shape it once was, and the guest list has changed.  Yes, JFNA expresses the voice of the Federation movement in North America, but only so much as that voice is in harmony, which it is increasingly is not. So we must recognize this diminished ability of JFNA has left us not only with significant issues (whose voice to listen to) but also an opportunity: inspiring increasing numbers and types of people to invest their time and efforts in the Agency. Of course this can’t be done unless the Agency develops new ways of engaging those individuals in the future work of the Jewish people – this is, and must be, its imperative.

As we will see and undoubtedly read this week, the Jewish Agency is on the cusp of its most significant and necessary redefinition in decades. But the future of the Agency will not be changed if we all rely on the myth of collective bargaining, it will only be truly reimagined if we increase and inspire a mix of people who feel they have a vital interest in its possibilities – a mix that can transform the quicksand of the present into the concrete of the future.

A Chanukiyah of Predictions for 2010

December is the time of the secular year where we look backward and forward – making best-of lists and summarizing our prognostications for the future.  While many faiths join together for revelries related to the secular new year, for Jews it is also the season to recall the value of perseverance and faith in collective Jewish endeavors, as well as the unexpected miracles that we encounter along the way.  So in the spirit of the new year but nevertheless inspired by how one ancient prediction regarding a small vessel of oil gave rise to the miraculous tale of eight nights of luminescence, here are eight predictions for the coming twelve months of 2010:

1.   The new “I” word is… Imagination.  If 2009 was the year when the newness of Jewish innovation became more widely discussed (or perhaps, debated) as a substantial aspect of Jewish communal development, it was also the year where innovation as a term became, well, old news. Yes, there are important discussions to be had about the role of entrepreneurs and ‘in-treprenuers’ in the world of Jewish organizations, but innovation alone cannot change communities.  Imagination, however, can create new ways for communities to collectively view their futures without getting bogged down in semantics.  I predict that in 2010 we will find more and more local communities leveraging the imagination of their members out of both necessity and desire, and that as we give our communities permission to imagine, we will create futures burning even brighter than we can anticipate.

2.   The Overseas Case Goes into Overdrive. For people who expect to only hear about the budget challenges facing primary overseas partners of US philanthropy – the Jewish Agency for Israel and the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, my prediction is that while people might hear some of what they expect, they will also hear the unexpected.  Both organizations are in the midst of engaging new generations of leadership and deploying new tactics to engage supporters. JAFI’s Global Leaders Forum,   impactful foray into tweeting, and re-energizing initiatives like the new Jewish Peoplehood Hub created in partnership with the Nadav Fund and UJA-Federation of New York give reason for great optimism for the future of JAFI.  Similarly anticipate great ideas being implemented by JDC’s nextgen professional leadership in 2010, continuing that organization’s vital role in helping Jews worldwide in new and impactful ways.

3.   The Educational Affordability Crisis. The past eighteen months have given those who care about Jewish education a great amount of concern, and for good reason.  Enrollment has declined as parents who were already struggling to meet high tuition costs decided to opt-out all together in the wake of the Great Recession; and unfortunately statistics tell us that families drop out, the generally don’t come back.  Even though organizations like PEJE have already been proactively convening discussions on the issue of the changing economy,  I predict in 2010  we will be forced to squarely face one of the greatest and most urgent challenges of contemporary Jewish life – making a high quality Jewish day school education affordable to every Jewish family who wants to provide that education to their children. It is time for bolder local and national solutions, and I believe 2010 is when our realization of the crisis will inspire great solutions.

4.   Jewish media continues to transform… for the better.  In addition to the ancient content of our heritage, there is great new Jewish content emerging, from sites about arts, culture and education (Tablet Magazine and MyJewishlearing.com), to thought-provoking online journals and magazines (such as Sh’ma and Lilith) and of course philanthropic resources such as eJewish Philanthropy. While different in content, all of these resources and countless others have the potential to continue to transform national and local Jewish dialogue. I predict that in 2010 as we see more and more local Jewish newspaper come under financial pressure we will see a substantial migration of eyeballs to online media and resources. Moreover, we will find that those resources rise to meet the challenge of delivering high-quality content. 2010 will a defining year for online Jewish media, and you will read all about those transformative changes… online.

5.   J Street, AIPAC and AJC: Separate, but Civil. Some predictions are more aspirational than others, and perhaps this is one of those predictions. But I believe that in 2010 the Iranian crisis will force J Street, AIPAC, AJC, and others to recognize that even with their differences, their coordination on some issues will be important to strengthening an securing the US-Israel relationship for the challenging days ahead.  I predict (hope?) we will see high level leadership and dialogue that builds bridges in relationships and influence to achieve results.  To do so however, J Street needs to continue to mature as an organization and AIPAC and AJC will need to recognize that their big tents may need to get a bit bigger. 2010 is not the year for deepening division among advocates for Israel; it must be a year for closing those divides as much as possible.

6.   Microfundraising goes… big. The patterns of how people contribute online will change more in 2010 than the past several years combined.  As more and more local organizations provide opportunity for online giving, donor designation and project funding, more and more donors will choose to make their charitable contributions in more specific ways.  In addition, organizations like JGooders will enable local initiatives to have more direct pathways to global donors. I predict what once was a concierge service for wealthy donors with philanthropic funds will become the conventional wisdom in 2010, leveraging technology to make that wisdom reality.

7.   Emphasis on Outcomes. Given the new focus on microfundraisng, organizations will need to be more focused on measuring and communicating results. While many larger organizations have already invested heavily in outcome measurement strategies, there will be a real push in 2010 for all non-profit organizations to become outcome-focused by understanding the taxonomy of their outcomes.  As resources stay scarce, results will be the key differentiators.  Those organizations that can demonstrate their effectiveness quantitatively will have the edge.  Expect to see more and more organizations retooling themselves both with board resources and technology to enable them to get that edge… and ultimately get those elusive dollars.

8.   There will be magic in the Magic Kingdom. Even though the 2009 General Assembly just recently concluded, I predict that the 2010 General Assembly of Jewish Federations of North America (to be held in Orlando) will truly be one of the most significant gatherings of American Jewry in the past 20 years. With new leadership now in place and new energy percolating across the system, I predict that GA10 will bring together more people in more collaborative discussions than ever before, and that before, during and after the GA people will recognize the impact that that conference will have on the next 20 years of Jewish life.  A successful GA will also cap a year where a reenergized Federation system emerges as a renewed force in modernizing Jewish philanthropy… and that is no Mickey Mouse prediction.

So there you have it – eight predictions for the next twelve months. While some of those predictions may very well require miracles, I think that we will find 2010 is a year that exceeds our expectations. And just like the shamash is the service candle for each of the other candles in the chanukiyah, in 2010 each of us will have the responsibility to be the shamash in lighting our own predictions and aspirations for the days ahead. Let us be those shamashes together, and may 2010 be even brighter than we imagine. Chanukah Sameach!

Good for the Jews?: A Few Thoughts on the Debate About Aliyah (Israel 2009 – Day 3)

Today, in the last quarter of the twentieth century, the survival of the Jews and the survival of Israel are the same; and whether Israel can survive depends, among other things, on the numbers and talents of Diaspora Jews who will come to it – which means it depends on you… –  Hillel Halkin, Letters to an American Jewish Friend: A Zionist’s Polemic (1977)

When visiting Israel one generally encounters an inquisitiveness of where you came from and what reason brought you to Israel.  While those questions are standard for almost any person visiting any place in the world, it is the question that generally follows that is unique in the Israeli context – and that is the question of whether one plans to move to Israel and make Aliyah.  Indeed, how the question is formulated and in whatever tone it is spoken it can be more than a simple inquiry; it is often a suggestion, a complaint, a possibility or a prayer.  In a nation filled with all types of olim, Aliyah is still a notion that fills the heart, the mind, and the discourse like few other ideas do.  In 2009, the debate about Aliyah has in many ways overshadowed the encouragement of Aliyah, and unlike when Halkin wrote his strongly worded essay on the its urgency thirty-two years ago, we now more often speak of Aliyah as an ideological aspect of the Jewish State as opposed to an answer to the existential question of the Jewish State.

During the second day of the Facing Tomorrow: The Israeli Presidential Conference in Jerusalem, the complexity and the passion of the Aliyah debate was fully evident in a packed and provocatively titled panel discussion that asked  – is Aliyah good for the Jews?  Moderated by Alisa Rubin Kurshan, the Vice-President for Strategic Planning and Organizational resources for UJA-Fed NY, the panel included Matthew Bronfman, Rabbi Ricardo Shmuel Diesegni – the Chief Rabbi of Rome, Meir Kraus, an expert in the field of Israeli/Diaspora relations, Rabbi Michael Melchior, former Minister of Diaspora and Social Affairs, and Jay Sarver – co-chair of the Aliyah and Klitah Committee of the Jewish Agency’s Board of Governors.  Each member of the group expressed insightful and often strongly worded positions, and certainly those in the audience looking to understand the contours of the Aliyah debate were not disappointed. From Rabbi Melchior’s frank and forceful assertion that there is a total abscess of support for encouraging and sustaining Aliyah in the Israeli political establishment to Matt Bronfman’s personalized and optimistic assertion how Aliyah is being refined in this area of interconnection and the “living bridge”, each panelist brought to the table a voice that authentically expressed the challenges and opportunities of Aliyah at this point in history. And they were not alone, members of the audience too expressed their opinions (under the guise of questions) regarding the challenges not only relating to Aliyah, but of the challenges of absorption and integration into Israeli society. Were there agendas and opinions in the room?  Of course. But there also was genuine interest and concern, and that was what made the discussion so powerful.

For my own part, I walked away from the discussion with a few key observations.  First (and as usual), I found the debate among an academics and professionals to be of distant relevance to the debates I hear back in my own community in Atlanta.  For a vast majority of North American Jews, Aliyah is a concept to be understood, but not an opportunity to be examined.  Certainly there remains the possibility to encourage North American olim, but just because there is a possibility does not mean there is a substantially realistic outcome to be expected.  And while the concept of redefining Aliyah and reframing Israeli-Diaspora relations within the context of the “living bridge” certainly sound like imaginative approaches in an era that depends on increased Jewish creativity, we cannot lose sight of the fact that certain concepts lose their integrity when we casually begin to change their meaning.  Lastly, I was reminded by the discussion that although Americans often think of Diaspora relations as North American relations, there are other communities that have vital stakes in the debate regarding the future of global Jewry and their relationship to the State of Israel and we are myopic if we don’t recognize the entirety of the participants in this truly global discussion.

Aliyah perhaps is no longer just a strategy to respond to an existential need of an Israeli future, it is now more so a factor in the evolutionary nature of Jewish existence. While there can be little debate that historical the essence of Aliyah has been of a physical nature, the continuing assertions of spiritual Aliyah challenge us to think harder about what it truly means to encourage personal and communal commitments to Israel.  We also can’t lose sight of the impact on Israeli society  (and the correlative impact of global Jewish communities) when considering what role Aliyah can and should play in the future of the Jewish People.  So, in the spirit of Mr. Halkin’s thirty-two year old polemic and in response to the question of whether is Aliyah good for the Jews, I respond with a different question – if Israel still truly depends on Jews (whoever and wherever they are), are thoroughly modern Jews good for Aliyah?

Now that is a panel discussion I would like to see.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow: Key Questions on Jewish Innovation, Interruption, and Sustainability

In preparing for a recent flight to New York for some meetings that included discussions regarding the state of Jewish social innovation, I compiled a stack of recent ‘want to read, but haven’t yet read’ materials on the topic. But much like the rest of life, my best-laid plans were interrupted when I stopped at a newsstand in the airport to pick up the day’s newspaper. There on the shelf was a BusinessWeek headline too hard to ignore: “Innovation, Interrupted: How America’s failure to capitalize on innovation hurt the economy – and what happens next.”

How’s that for serendipity?

So rather than methodically review the stack I compiled, I boarded the plane and dove right into the BusinessWeek article with fascination.  It raises some key observations and questions regarding the last decade of commercial innovation and how the slowdown (or an evening out) of the nation’s innovation curve may have contributed to the current economic environment.  Focusing on the technology and biotech sectors, the article raises the question of whether innovative development really slowed down at all, or whether the barriers to the commercialization of those developments were the true culprits of stymieing innovation.  Certainly these are questions that are equally applicable to social entrepreneurs as well as those in the for-profit sectors.

The second article was the recent white paper titled The Innovation Ecosystem: Emergence of a New Jewish Landscape. The paper, based on the 2008 Survey of New Jewish Organizations, undertaken by Jumpstart, The Natan Fund and The Samuel Bronfman Foundation, raises several key findings and recommendations, several of which are precise observations that require much deeper consideration.  In reviewing a landscape of over 300 Jewish start-ups then in operation, the paper provides some compelling statistical information supporting a belief that the Jewish innovation is on a growth curve that reflects the underlying changes in 21st century Jewish life and that leverages developing social media and communications technologies.

Finishing the Jumpstart paper, I couldn’t help but think back to the BusinessWeek article I just read and wondered – Jewish innovation is important and seemingly fast-growing, but how do we ensure that this very important Jewish innovation isn’t interrupted?

Certainly we need to make sure that the question of sustainability is considered and anticipated thoughtfully, and not just by those who are active participants in the innovation ecosystem (or what I have previously referred to as the Zera’im movement).  But even more importantly, we need to make sure that the discussion is substantially outweighed by action. Action in developing Jewish innovators, developing models of financial sustainability, encouraging innovation in underrepresented areas of need (i.e. the Jumpstart survey finds that only 2.9% of Jewish start-ups self-identified as primarily social service organizations; a very small percentage given the size of the need), and reducing barriers for success.

Action should trump discussion, for sure. However, for the action to be meaningful, there needs to be some consideration of key questions raised (in my mind at least) by both by the BusinessWeek article and the Jumpstart paper. I don’t have answers to these questions (and I certainly welcome input from those that do), but I list them below as helpful suggestions for you to talk amongst yourselves. They fall into the categories of What, Who, Where, Why and How?

1.     What? First, we need to ask the tricky question of whether we are investing in true innovation that can have a sustainable impact on Jewish life, or are we investing in very niche areas of Jewish interest that are fashionable but not forward-thinking? Is there a difference?  How we answer these questions may very well determine how well we can develop even greater amounts of investment in Jewish innovation in the coming years.

2.     Who? The Jumpstart paper focuses on the ratio that many innovative efforts are independent entities (80%) as opposed to independently operating subsidiaries of larger organizations (20%).  But the question remains, by motivating innovation outside of established organizations, are we dooming those established organizations to an innovation deficit?  Rather than creating an accretive aspect of Jewish communal life, are we inadvertently creating an abscess that may actually damage it?  How can we balance the locus of innovation so that we get maximum benefit with minimum harm?

3.    Where? Are our existing community-based funding organizations  (as opposed to national foundations) sufficiently focused on funding regional and micro-regional Jewish innovation? The Jumpstart survey reinforces the belief that Jewish innovation  (on a percentage basis of surveyed organizations) is greatest in New York and California (57% of surveyed organizations are located in those two states).  Certainly those states have some of the largest population centers, but how do we create a broader national environment of Jewish innovation in places like St. Louis? Charlotte? Houston?

4.     Why? If so few organizations in the innovation ecosystem are focused on human services, how will we balance the legacy needs of existing infrastructure that primarily focus on servicing those needs; especially when those needs will be rapidly escalating as the baby boom generation shifts into an age where they may more frequently need those services?

5.    How? Assuming we believe that greater investment in Jewish innovation is essential to continuing the maintenance of a strong Jewish community, how do we inspire entrepreneurs to innovate in areas of greatest need?  Is that a fair question?  And if we succeed in motivating a shift of substantial regional and micro-regional investment in innovation (i.e. Federations invest more in innovative initiatives and start-ups as opposed to legacy areas of funding) what are the metrics by which we measure the impact of innovation against the cost? Is it the number of entities? Web-clicks? Participants? Or are there more general longitudinal metrics we need to identify and begin to measure?

As the BusinessWeek article suggests, experiencing a few years of innovation does not necessarily forestall great crisis.  We may all be quick to praise the current state of Jewish innovation (and rightfully so), but not without critically assessing what comes next. Also, pointing to characteristics of previous eras of commercial innovation, the BusinessWeek article notes that “no industrial revolution in the past has been based on a single technology” and points to the combination of railroads, electricity, telephone and telegraph as the fuel of the Industrial Revolution, and the confluence of several technologies in the era of innovation that seemed so dramatic in the 1990s.  Accordingly, innovation in one particular area of Jewish life may not be enough, we may need innovation in lots of areas, including inside existing centers of Jewish life. Otherwise, we may find that our innovation is interrupted and – for a people concerned with its survival –  we need innovation that is sustainable.

History, Facts, Faces, and Faith: The Case for Maintaining Overseas Allocations

It is that time of year again, the time of counting. I don’t mean just the counting of the Omer, which we do, daily in our synagogues and temples; I mean the counting of dollars and cents raised by our communities as part of our various Jewish community fundraising campaigns. It is the time when we make our final estimates and declare our final projections; the time when we begin to make decisions about where the dollars we raise will go, and how they will be spent.

And this year, more so than any in recent memory, there are fewer dollars and there are harder decisions.

Our communities at home in the United States are all suffering from the unprecedented economic hardships – the ledger of financial resources is short and the list of people in need is long. Our day schools are suffering attrition at rates that are alarming and emergency assistance requests are increasing at a pace that is dismaying.  With all this in mind, there is an increasing sense across American Jewish communities that we need to make sure that before we send too many Jewish dollars overseas to Israel, to the JDC, to the Jewish Agency for Israel, that we must take care of our needs here at home first, at the expense of our overseas allocations.  Not without hand wringing and hearts breaking, we argue and posture that ‘just this year’ we can reduce our overseas allocations to keep more money in our communities.

But after seven years of serving as a volunteer in local Federation planning and allocations decisions, and notwithstanding my involvement in many local Jewish organizations, I am convinced more than ever of the following:  in this time of economic crisis, we should not and cannot disproportionately sacrifice our overseas allocations for our local needs.

There are four reasons why we must honor our commitment to Jews across the world, most substantially in Israel and the Former Soviet Union: History, Facts, Faces, and Faith.

History is significant threefold  – the history of combined philanthropy, the recent history of our local communities, and the history our children and grandchildren will learn. As we sit around our board rooms in our Federations and Jewish Welfare Boards, we cannot and should not forget that much of the history of combined philanthropy was to efficiently and powerfully address the needs of Jews around the would.  That is our history, and that remains our mission. Certainly recent economic history challenges perception of our past, we more viscerally remember our much more recent local history of retraction and need.  In the midst of this recent history, we cannot help but momentarily forget how we got here when we are overwhelmed of the question of where to go in the future.

But we should not forget we are making history too – how we respond to this crisis will be recorded for our children and grandchildren to know. And they should know this – even when we suffered at home, we never forgot our obligations abroad.  Our history should show, it must show, that in time of our greatest need, we still honored our past – we remembered the places of our history and the needs of Jews that still remain in those places.

The facts and faces of overseas needs are critical factors to remember in our allocations decisions and oftentimes are the most easily forgotten. Our local needs confront us every day, we feel their impact, and we know the people who suffer the loss. We are also inundated with data and information that build the case for keeping dollars at home in our own communities.  We are overwhelmingly persuaded by the facts and faces that surround us when we are making our decisions – we know what we will feel when we walk out of our boardrooms, and even more so, we know what we will hear.

That is exactly why we must not sacrifice our commitment to helping Jews overseas. The facts are no less compelling – in these economic times the need is even greater in Israel and FSU.  The pain is even higher. The danger of losing Jews is even greater, and the other networks of support are even weaker. We know, factually, that the need exists. Butt we don’t see there faces everyday – we don’t know their names.  When we walk out of our boardrooms, we won’t hear from them; they won’t call to complain.

They will be the silent cuts – and the faces we do not see. And while our local community needs will be more apparent to us over the coming year, and motivate us to dig into our pockets even deep in the coming year, the needs of our brothers and sisters in Israel, FSU and elsewhere will still be far removed from us.  We can’t forget them now, because we may not remember them later.

Lastly, our overseas allocation is a matter of our faith. Not just our faith in one another, but our faith in G-d as well. As a Jewish people we are in a great partnership – not just in communities and not just with our “overseas partners,” but we are partners with G-d in acts of creation, of sustenance, and of compassion for G-d’s people.  That partnership not only includes those partners we see day-to-day and live in our towns and neighborhoods. We have partners all over the world that have joined with us in G-d’s acts of creation throughout history. We cannot choose to recognize that partnership in part; we must recognize it in whole. And this partnership, this holy partnership requires us to make holy decisions – decisions that require sacrifice of ourselves.

So there it  – history, facts, faces, and faith. The four legs of the table on which we must do our counting; the four factors we must consider when doing our deciding how we will protect and preserve our support of our fellow Jews overseas. It is my case for preserving our overseas allocations this year, and it is my plea.  But my questions remain:

In this time of counting – how will we count? And who?

Jewish Leadership at the Water’s Edge: A Call for Action

With all of the change swirling around us, it has been challenging to organize, synthesize and verbalize my thoughts on the state of the Jewish community in 2009. The organizations in which I am involved, like all of the organizations in which we are all involved, are struggling to reconcile the challenges with the needs and the resources with the requirements.  And while normally I am one to encourage systematic and methodical planning, now I feel like we must boldly  lead by action.  And in order to encourage  action by others, we must do more than just evaluate and understand the nature of our adversity; we must fearlessly lead our communities through our challenges to reach the other side of greatness.  Until now, I have not been able to articulate this strong desire to see my fellow community members, volunteers, and professionals, rise up and lead.  I have listened to planners and prognosticators, seers and scholars, each one of them expressing their voices… their view of what we need to do.  But now I have finally found my voice that I have been searching for and below is my encouragement, my cajoling – my plea – that we not let this moment pass without a great uprising of Jewish leadership… strong and visionary leadership that will lead us through these stormy waters.  This is not a plan… it is a call to action for Jewish leaders at the water’s edge.

From time to time in the history of the Jewish people, moments arise that challenge us to reinforce our Jewish faith and reassert our Jewish purpose. There are, at these moments, great leaders that help us understand and define the decisions we must make and the paths we are offered to follow.  In some cases they are leaders that are shaped by the moments, and in other case they are moments shaped by the leaders. In each case, they help achieve clarity of vision in foggy milieus of difficulty. They are leaders that take bold steps while providing gentle reassurance. They are leaders that do not just stand with us at the water’s edge, but who lead us into the sea and across the river.  Such leaders are called forward in each generation of adversity and drink from the well of Jewish strength that runs deep through our generations and refreshes each succeeding generation of leaders that come to drink from it. These leaders appear in the chronicles of Jewish history at the moments of their calling and leave legacies of faith and fearlessness, courage and community.

My friends, this is our moment, and we must be those Jewish leaders for our time.

We cannot underestimate the challenges we are facing nor the opportunities available for us to embrace. We live in a time where the establishment of the State of Israel still stirs our hearts, but the existential challenges it faces still turns our stomachs and in a time where seemingly limitless financial prosperity has suddenly turned into seemingly limitless financial distress. We live in an era where the quality of Jewish education gives us great encouragement, but the magnitude of Jewish assimilation gives us even greater pause for concern.  We face an increasing amount of anti-Semitism, yet some of the greatest damage to our Jewish infrastructure is the result of thievery of one of our own.  Even in the face of the hate of strangers, we still struggle to build bonds of brotherhood and understanding with one another.

Our challenges are great and they are many.

Yes, these are challenging moments – the moments that call out for great Jewish leaders. For leaders with vision and boldness, with an understanding of the bastions of our heritage and the towers of our future.  Leaders who know that the brightness of the Jewish experience, the collective Jewish journey on which we are all traveling, cannot dim and cannot end. It is an experience bound by a covenant that we must uphold and cannot revoke. In these times, the call for these leaders is strong, it is overwhelming, and it is deafening.

We must answer that call. We must be those leaders.

But being those leaders will mean more than just answering a call – it means more than just showing up. That is not leadership – that is attendance. We must search not only our hearts, but also our history. We must not bemoan the tests that face us, but we must engage the texts that teach us. We cannot muddle or meet our way through our challenges; we must face them squarely and respond to them strongly. We cannot simple respond hineini – we must do more than that.  We must not just say we are here; we must show how we will go from here to there.

But how can we do this? Our institutions are shaken and our strategy is unclear. We cannot plan on relying on only that which we know, but also that which we must create. We must reimagine not only our institutions, but also the way we, as individuals, encounter those institutions.  We must face our challenges, not turn away from them in the hope they will be delayed or distracted. We cannot believe that help is on the way and that time will bring reinforcements – we must be that help and we must signal that time.  Indeed, our strength lies not in safety by avoidance, but by the certitude of Jewish survival.

This is our time, we cannot hide and we cannot falter.

The Jewish leaders before us have faced slavemasters and emperors. They have faced those from outside who would harm us and those from within who have betrayed us.  Those leaders have faced the type of evil and uncertainty that suffocates the sprit and weakens the knees.  But in each generation those leaders have embraced the breath of survival and stiffened their backs in the face of earth-shattering blows. They have fought our enemies from the caves of the deserts and through the walls of ghettos. They sacrificed themselves in their unwavering faith in their God and their people and left legacies of pride and resoluteness.  They did not falter, and nor can we. We must respond to this moment, we must breathe deep breathes of courage and together firmly face our challenges.

We must not just stand at the water’s edge, we must cross.

Like Moses and like Joshua, we cannot simply stand on this side of the water.  We must have faith that in crossing among the high waves we will be fulfilling the next phase of our own journey forward.  We cannot turn back and we cannot hesitate. What stands on the opposite side is not death and despair, but beauty and redemption – nothing less then the next holy steps of a holy people.  We cannot refrain from taking those steps; we must take them with fervor and firmness. As leaders, we must cross that which threatens to engulf us, but cannot extinguish us. We must go to the water’s edge, and we must be the leaders that those waters demand of us.

This is our moment. We must be the leaders standing at the water’s edge.

And for the sake of our and future Jewish generations –

We must cross together.

The Rally and the Realization

Like other Jewish communities across the United States and the world, on Wednesday night (January 7) the Atlanta Jewish community hosted a rally in support of Israel in its fight against Hamas terror. There were hundreds of individuals in attendance  – Jews from across the community, Christian supporters of Israel, elected officials and other members of the Atlanta community.  Sponsored by the Jewish Federation of Greater Atlanta and organized by members of the local Israel Professional Council, the rally included passionate presentations by numerous community members, including Steve Rakitt, the President of the Jewish Federation of Greater Atlanta, Ambassador Reda Mansour – the Consul General of Israel to the Southeast United States, Rabbi Ilan Feldman, Scott Allen  – a regional leader of Christians United for Israel, Mayor Jere Wood – the mayor of Roswell, Georgia, and numerous others.  It was a powerful evening of community and solidarity – from the opening notes of the Star Spangled Banner to the final notes of Hatikva, the night was filled with passion for Israel and support for its fight against the enemy it faces.

But the most powerful moment I encountered did not occur during the rally, but occurred just before the it began. As I was walking from my car toward the synagogue at which the rally was held, a young man yelled toward me, asking me to wait for him. He was new to town and was not certain exactly where the synagogue was. He had heard about the rally and cared enough to come, even though he would not know anybody there.

His name is Puneet. He is not Jewish, he is of Indian descent.

As we walked toward the synagogue we exchanged introductions and pleasantries. But I could help ask – why was he there? Why come out to a rally where he did not know a single person? Why spend that night away from his wife in a room full of strangers?

And then that most powerful moment occurred.  As we walked together in the cool night, Puneet shared with me that he was there because he felt, while not a Jew or an Israeli, that India’s fight against terror and hate, was the same fight that Israel was fighting. He recognized that the hate and venom that fuels terrorist murders in India, most recently in Mumbai, is the same hate and venom being rained down on Israel in the form of Qassam and Grad missiles. Puneet felt that even though he was not a Zionist, he too felt “enough was enough.” He came to stand with Israel because he believed Israel’s fight is just.

Puneet reminded me, in the moments of our conversation, that while supporters of Israel often feel alone, we are not. There are good people, Christians, Indians, people of all creeds and colors that believe in the justness of Israel’s fight against terror and the terrorist organizations like Hamas that traffic in hate and violence.  That while we often feel (and many times rightfully so) that the world opinion is resoundingly anti-Israel, there nonetheless are voices that join our chorus of support for Israel. They are not necessarily our coreligionists, but they are kindred souls. They believe in hope, in freedom, and in peace. They believe that people have a right to feel safe from the shattering explosions of terror, and freedom from the specter of death that is designed by merchants of division.

They stand with us as we stand with Israel.

As we entered the synagogue, Puneet and I were separated, and I did not see him the rest of the evening. But I received an email from him the next morning, and he shared with me how much he learned during the rally, and how much he was glad to meet with other like-minded people. He and I agreed to meet again – to continue a conversation we started as we walked to that synagogue in order to attend a rally for a country that represented our shared ideal.

Israel is important. It is important to Jews, to Christians, to Indians, and to people who appreciate its values and who support it in its struggles. It is important to Puneet.

And for that we should be grateful and inspired.

I know I am.  Thanks Puneet.

(Jewish) Community Organizing: Lessons from the Obama Campaign

Regardless of one’s political affiliation, the recent election of Barack Obama as the forty-fourth president of the United States is a momentous event to consider. In a time of dramatic concern by so many, the Obama campaign has given an equal number of people in the world a moment of radical amazement.  There are certainly many lessons to be learned with respect to the Obama campaign in the political context, but the strategies and tactics deployed by the Obama campaign also hold numerous lessons of how we can better organize our Jewish communities.

1.    Positive messages create positive results.  Certainly in 2008 there were numerous negative topics to be discussed, including a war in the Middle East, and a troubled economy at home.  But Obama, while voicing concern about those several topics, nevertheless focused on a message of hope and change. So too must our Jewish community focus on positive messages.  While so much of our Jewish message is framed in the context of “never again,” too little of it is framed in the context of “Yes we can.”  True, there are great challenges facing our community – slowing affiliation, a nuclear Iran and Jewish apathy.  But much is going right as well – and we need a positive message if we expect people to join a positive Jewish campaign for change.

2.    Small contributions count as much as big ones.  Much has been made of the Obama campaign’s record-shattering fundraising.  But what has been remarkable about that effort is how many of the contributors were first-time political contributors and how many made small, but repeated, contributions. Also remarkable was the way Obama’s campaign tapped into the financial power of the netroots community.  Our Jewish community would be wise to quickly learn these fundraising lessons and apply them to our own efforts.  We are missing a tremendous opportunity to engage community members philanthropically in new and different ways – ways successfully deployed by the Obama campaign.

3.    Investment in field operations and social networks matter.   The Obama campaign redefined the power of the ground game in the recent election. Whereas Hillary Clinton focused on the big states with large primaries, Obama also focused on the states that had caucuses, understanding the power of small collections of passionate individuals. By engaging in places big and small, Obama created a network that engaged voters where they were in ways they wanted to be engaged, where in person or online. Sounds like something we would be wise to do with American Jews – meeting Jews where they are, and leveraging emerging social technologies to make those meetings happen.  We need to improve our Jewish ground game, before that game becomes too difficult to win.

4.    Agents of change still need voices of experience. Obama knew that one of his greatest weaknesses was the perception of his inexperience. So what did he do to counter that criticism? He found one of the most experienced senators to serve as his running mate. Rather than fear the influence of a more experienced leader, Obama embraced it. We should apply the same lessons in our Jewish communities.  While we need to embrace the fresh ideas that come from inexperienced Jewish innovators, we need to make sure those innovators embrace the experience and wisdom of our more seasoned leaders.

5.    Words matter. Perhaps the one critical mistake of the Obama campaign was when he commented that voters in Pennsylvania were bitter and cling to their guns and religion.  The Obama campaign credits that moment as a defining one in the campaign – after that episode Obama took a greater role in the campaign and worked to more carefully craft his message.  The care we need to use in choosing words in the Jewish community is no less important. When we refer to the “problem” of intermarriage we would be wiser to describe it as a “challenge.” Just like voters don’t like to be considered bitter, spouses don’t like to consider their marriages problems. If we want to be successful in our campaign for the engagement of more Jews, we should mind our words carefully.

6.    Create multiple paths to success.  Early in the campaign the Obama campaign said they were going to create multiple paths victory, including campaigning in states long ceded to the Republicans. And that is exactly what they did, so that on election night there were multiple ways for the electoral votes to add up in Obama’s favor. If we are wise, the Jewish community will learn from this experience and also focus on strengthening multiple paths to engagement.  If we want the numbers to add up, we need to create new and novel ways of Jewish engagement.

7.   Embrace the complexities of identity.  Obama has a complex racial background, one he embraced and transcended during the campaign. The Jewish people also have a complex background, filled with nuanced and conflicting identities.  Rather than getting mired in identity conflicts, like Obama we need to find common threads that help us transcend our individual insecurities about our identity.  Jewish identity has become a word we struggle to define and often endeavor to avoid. We should embrace the complexities of Jewish identity and perhaps we may find that there will be many more of us to embrace.

8.    Believe.  Obama believed he could win the presidency, and defying all expectations, he did.  People believed in his potential to effect change because it encouraged a belief that change could occur. Perhaps no greater lesson to be learned the Jewish community is the power of belief – belief in one another and belief in our collective ability to make our Jewish community stronger.

So there you have it, eight lessons from the ’08 Obama campaign. Even with these lessons in hand, it is fair to wonder if can we change the way our Jewish community engage individuals with the same level of success the Obama campaign achieved.  The parallels are remarkable – just like the current state of our nation, the current state of American Jewry gives us much for concern, but much more for pride. And while even the greatest challenges may still lie ahead of us, the strength of our Jewish past and the resilience of our Jewish spirit give us much to aspire for our collective Jewish future.

As a Jewish people, can we too achieve our goals?  The answer must be no different that the one boldly spoken by our new president on a clear, and clearly victorious night  – yes we can.

And we must.

One Year Later…

In a rare occurrence, I have back to back personal posts, and for those who regularly read this blog for my other essays, I apologize.  For those who have read this blog form its beginning, you know that it was inspired  by my friend Jon Barkan z’l who passed on from this world one year ago today.  There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about my friend, and what we all miss in his absence.  Nevertheless, while we honor those who have died with our memories, we also honor them with our lives and the way we live them. Even as we find ourselves sometimes lingering in the shadow of death, we must draw ourselves into the light of the living – to fill voids, to create anew and to celebrate all that life has to offer. I am certain that is what Jon would say  –  and that is what I now say as well.

This morning I was given the privilege of addressing a group of pro-Israel activists at a local AIPAC function. It was fitting that this gathering occurred on the first secular anniversary of Jon’s passing – it reminds us that important work must go on, life must go on, and that it it incumbent upon all of us to recognize both.

Below is the text of my comments delivered this morning.

Comments Delivered to Atlanta-Area AIPAC Breakfast Briefing on 12/7/08

My friends, I am glad to be here with you today, in a room full of pro-Israel activists who have taken time out of your busy lives to spend some time learning about and advancing the interests of pro-Israel politics in our nation. And even as we gather together, it is not lost on any of us that there is one dear friend that is not in the room with us today – our friend Jon Barkan.

One year ago today, we woke up to a world without Jon walking among us.  It was hard for us – it is hard for us – to fully reconcile the loss we all suffered, the loss his family suffered, the loss our community and Jon’s many communities suffered.  There is rarely a day when we don’t speak of our memories of Jon, and the ways he impacted all of us.  And never a day has passed where we haven’t felt diminished by the loss of his ability to do so much, to be so much, and to help so much.

Nevertheless, we have soldiered on with the memory and the legend of Jon in our hearts and minds.  And we have soldiered on in a world that, in many ways, has changed around us.  We have a new US administration and new elections in Israel. We face new economic challenges and new and increasing challenges in the international arenas.

However, there is much about our world that has remained the same. There is still a need to recognize that Israel has numerous enemies that pose serious threats to its safety and its very existence. There is still a need for a strong US/Israel alliance, with substantial economic, diplomatic and military ties.

There is still a need for a room full of pro-Israel activists to gather to learn about ways to support pro-Israel policies and the elected officials that establish those policies.

So in the days following Jon Barkan’s death, many of us recognized that perhaps one of the best ways to honor our friend – a friend who was an enormous pro-Israel advocate, was to inspire and recognize other pro-Israel advocates to do what Jon did – work tirelessly to strengthen the bonds between our two nations.

Through the generosity of several individuals and families, including many in this room, the Jon Barkan Israel Advocacy Award was established.  The award shall be given annually to an individual living in the Atlanta, Georgia metropolitan area who is under the age of 40 and has demonstrated an extraordinary commitment to Israel by means of leadership, activism or involvement in organizations or activities that strengthen the bonds between Israel and Atlanta-area Jews.

Criteria for selection includes demonstration of significant leadership ability, level of passion and involvement in pro-Israel causes, and the potential for greater pro–Israel leadership responsibility in the future. Nominations will be solicited from across the Atlanta metropolitan area and the selection process will be administered by local professional and volunteer AIPAC leadership.

The annual recipient of the award shall be formally recognized at the annual Atlanta-area AIPAC Community Event and, along with a plaque commemorating the award, the recipient shall receive a $1,000 stipend to be used for attendance to the AIPAC Policy Conference (held annually in Washington D.C.) in the year in which the award is given.

To date, over $23,000 has been pledged to endow the fund. Contributions are tax-deductible, and to the extent any of you are doing year-end tax planning with respect charitable contributions, contributions can be made to the fund at any time for any reason. My wife Marci and I have done exactly that, and I invite you to join us in that honor of our friend.

The process for selecting the first award recipient is already underway and if you have any nominations, the professionals at AIPAC will soon be communicating with you the opportunity to share such nominations.  The recipient will be announced at the community event this spring.

When speaking of a righteous Jew who has passed from this world to the next we say – zichrono livracha – let his memory be a blessing.   May that be the case with our friend Jon Barkan, together let us remember on this day and each day that his memory is a blessing.  And let us ensure, with the Jon Barkan Israel Advocacy Award, that his legacy continues to be an inspiration to future generations of pro-Israel advocates.

Advocates just like you.

Thank you.

Memo to the Federation File: The New (Human) Capital Campaign

During the past few months, one can rarely avoid a discussion of the impact of the ongoing economic challenges facing many Americans.  Avoiding such conversations is even more rare in the hallways of nonprofit organizations that depend on the generosity of their donors to provide critical financial resources to address a variety of compelling needs.  These organizations that often struggle for funds even when times are good now find themselves in a time of dramatically increased need even while many of their supporters are more hesitant about their individual ability to give generously. Notwithstanding data that indicates that generosity does not diminish (and often increases) in times of great need, it is nevertheless clear that in these belt-tightening days that many people, when reconciling the numbers of diminishing 401(k) returns and increasing 501(c)(3) appeals, just can’t make the math work.

So these are long days and nights for fundraising campaigns – calls to donors are as much about friend-raising as they are fundraising, for just as there are many individuals who may offer a bit more financial help, there are those who reveal that they are in a bit more financial need.  And along with the greater demands to find financial resources to help those in that seek it, there will soon be challenges to be faced in ways that we haven faced domestically in perhaps generations. How our communities meet those challenges, and how we allocate the resources necessary to help overcome them will be defining questions for community leaders in the months and perhaps years ahead.

So it might seem odd that I would suggest that at this time of immense challenge that we focus on an immense opportunity to commence a new type of national Jewish communal campaign – a capital campaign of sorts, a human capital campaign.

Yes, we must continue and expand important financial appeals in our Jewish communities to serve local, national and overseas needs (we should not forget that the crippling effects of the global slowdown that impacts us at home has tremendous impact on the needs of vulnerable and at-need Jews in places like the former Soviet Union).  But we need to expect that for many individuals who are struggling to cope with their own personal financial challenges, engaging in acts of Jewish philanthropy may be an option that, for the time-being, must be left untaken.  Whether helping shore up their parents’ financial needs, struggling with their own limited ability to maintain synagogue memberships, day school fees or JCC dues, many Jews who would nonetheless like to remain engaged in the community may feel financially shut out.  In the face of these economic limitations, they may feel like what they have to offer the community is diminished, and therefore their engagement in the community should diminish as well.

Nothing could be farther from the truth. And the leaders of the organized Jewish community need to make sure that not only does the false perception of these individuals manifest themselves in our communities, but that we proactively take measures to seize the opportunity offered by those who want to find alternative ways to give back to their community.

Now is the time for us to engage in discussions with those who want to give time rather than money and capture their energies in ways that help us collectively face the challenges that confront us. Sure, many of our most vaunted professional leaders and long-time volunteers may be able to put the current challenges into perspective, but the emerging viewpoints and ideas of new volunteers and leadership will help us define pathways to future achievement.  Individuals who long invested in the community by writing checks may now find that being engaged in a volunteer leadership role is equally fulfilling. And then as economic times improve and they can more generously give once again, our communities will benefit from both time and money.

Therefore, I think right now is the time, an important time, to engage in a discussion of how we embark on the great Jewish human capital campaign.  A campaign with realizable goals locally and nationally for engaging new volunteers, and new volunteer leadership.  A campaign that does not diminish the value of giving financially to philanthropic endeavors, but one that reinforces the value of investing personal time in the organizations that pursue those endeavors.

Now this campaign would not be without its challenges.  Like any great effort that brings in new individuals to organizations and movements there are always questions of ability to integrate the new volunteers leaders into existing roles, to create new roles and opportunities for personal investment and to provide volunteers/leaders high quality experiences that reinforce their desire to give their time to the community.  These volunteers and leaders must be powerfully engaged, educated and empowered to effect change in our communities and help create new avenues of Jewish experience.  And they should have some fun.

Equal to the systemic challenges with respect to the new volunteers/leaders we need to anticipate challenges for our professionals. Many of our senior professional leadership have grown up in systems (most notably the federation system) that have not achieved much-needed and dramatic reengineering of core strategies related to volunteer engagement. Figuring out new ways to engage leaders and new ways to synthesize their strengths into existing organizations is no small task. And as many have realized, Jewish communal organizations are not necessarily bastions of adaptability – recruiting substantial numbers of new volunteers/leaders will require many organizations (and their professionals) to be responsive to the new ideas, approaches, and technologies – each which may be at odds with decades of organizational experience/tradition.

This human capital campaign needs to start at the bottom and at the top. We need new faces at our most basic committee levels in our local communities, and as I have suggested previously, we need new ideas at the top of our local and national organizations.  The human capital campaign is not narrowly focused or easily satisfied.  It requires fundamental changes in the way we recruit engaged Jews and the way we govern organizations that are led by them. We need to challenge old assumptions and embrace new visions. Even those visions that require resources we might not be able to collect in the coming days, months and perhaps even years. Because by encouraging and allowing those visions to take root, we will be harnessing the passions of visionaries who create them.  And when the financial resources are there to transform those visions into realities, the human capital campaign will infuse new life into these financial campaigns as well.

Yes, we face challenging times. And yes, in these challenging times we tend to monitor our campaigns closely – aspiring, stretching and achieving those goals we must achieve to address the needs we face. But lets not be too cautious lest we lose this opportunity to engage in a great new capital campaign  – a human capital campaign that seeks to benefit from the greatest resource of all – the hearts and minds of the Jewish people.

Heal the Bay, Heal the World: In Memory of Dorothy Green

This essay is the first in an occasional series that will address Jewish life, the natural world, and those individuals and organizations that care about both. Special appreciation to my friend Carolyn Oppenheimer who was the first to remind me that we should not just about care about sustaining the Jewish people, but we should also give equal care to sustaining the world in which we all live.

While many of us are activists for various Jewish and non-Jewish causes, unless you live in Southern California or are familiar with the environmental efforts related to water quality issues, you might not know about the recent death of the Dorothy Green (1929-2008), a legendary environmental activist in the Los Angeles area.  Regardless of your personal passions and interests, however, a remembrance of Ms. Green’s life should give us all a reason to pause and reflect about the nature of Jewish leadership.

For those who are not familiar with Dorothy Green, no short summary can do her justice.  But nevertheless, her life can be partially described as follows:  by caring enough to help heal the Santa Monica Bay in southern California, she helped redefine an entire state’s approach to water policy and sustaining clean coastal waters. Prompted by her brother’s experience with sewage-polluted water in Marina del Rey, Green convened a group of like minded activists to create Heal the Bay, a tremendously impactful water quality initiative that is widely credited for redefining local and state policy related to the clean-up and preservation of the Santa Monica Bay.  In addition to Heal the Bay, Green started or assisted with the development of various other organizations related to water polices, as well as supported numerous other cause that were meaningful to her and her family. Even as she faced physical illness, she persevered, and in turn in, her longevity and devotion to her community and her causes have garnered her the reverence of multiple generations of local and national activists and policymakers.

Dorothy Green was Jewish, a daughter of Polish immigrants and a mother of Jewish children, and she credited the Jewish tradition in shaping her active community involvement. But in an era where we often try to categorize Jewish experiences in terms of involvement in Jewish organizations and contributions to Jewish charities, it is easy to lose sight that perhaps the most core Jewish value is the recognition of the power of partnerships to change the world. Whether it is a spiritual partnership, a social partnership or a partnership spawned out of the mutual desire to manifest acts of loving kindness, the recognition of the need for such partnerships and the drive to create them is fundamentally Jewish in nature.

First with her efforts related to Heal the Bay, and then in her other endeavors, Dorothy Green did exactly that – she created powerful partnerships that helped heal part of the world that mattered most to her.  By doing so she actualized a partnership that exists on a more profound level – mankind’s role in a partnership with respect to the sustenance and preservation of  all that is natural in creation. And even though Heal the Bay doesn’t have the word “Jewish” in it doesn’t in any way diminish the Jewishness of her efforts or the mission of the organization she created.  Jewish leadership manifests itself in many ways outside the crisp categories that oftentimes seem to define our conventional understanding of Jewish leaders.  And Dorothy Green is an example of that kind of uncategorizable leadership, raised in the Jewish tradition, and manifesting those lessons to make a Jewish impact.

So, as with every death, we should stop and take pause to reflect on the lessons of the life that has been lived, Jewishly or otherwise. And in those lessons we might find inspiration for us to pursue those causes that we recognize as just, regardless of whether the fit neatly into categories of existing Jewish opportunity. There are numerous organizations that are inherently and explicitly Jewish, and many times we can influence those organizations to meet the challenges we identify individually or collectively. But other times we need to start from scratch – creating new partnerships to achieve common goals. And helping bind those partnerships together may be the common Jewish values we share and the universal values all of mankind should share. The kind of values Dorothy Green demonstrated in her lifetime.

With apologies to the television show “Heroes,” the life of Dorothy Green reminds us that rather than a mission to “save the cheerleader, save the world,” a more fitting mantra for aspiring heroes might be “Heal the Bay, heal the world.”   That is what Dorothy Green did – and fittingly she should be remembered as a true Jewish hero.

Star (of David) bursts: On the “Bursty” Nature of Jewish Engagement

Bursty. It’s a term I have started to use over the past several months when attempting to describe the nature of Jewish engagement.  Borrowed from the technical understanding of network theory, “burstyness” occurs in structured networks when the network experience a “burst” of activity, either as the result of intentional stimuli or because of the natural behavior of the network. The exploration of burst activity in connection with computer networks is an area that has received increased focus as our world has become more and more network-oriented.  Additionally, it has even taken on more innovative usage when characterizing the nature of workforce productivity.

My use of the term however relates to my concern for something far older than current network technologies – the Jewish people. The more time I spend in my local Jewish community and with my engaged and not-so-engaged Jewish friends, the more I recognize the ebbs and flows of their Jewish engagement.  While there are some friends who have consistent patterns of Jewish experience, many others seem to be engaged in bursts of Jewish activity. These bursts may participation in a single event, observation of a particular holiday, or association with a particular cause that they care about for Jewish reasons (even if the cause isn’t distinctly Jewish).  Sometimes they go through periods of time where they engage in several Jewish activities – only to then disappear from the community radar for an equal if not longer time. And while sometimes the burst of activity is driven by individual growth and opportunism, many times the engagement is more inspired by habit, fear, guilt or social pressure and acculturation.

Take the recent high holidays for example. There are many Jews whose familiarity with the rhythm of synagogue life is based on three days a year (for many it may even be only two). Shabbats, daily services and other holiday celebrations come and go, but the amount of time that many individuals spend in and around the synagogue barely registers on the dial. But on the high holidays, the activity is off the chart.  People who don’t make it to one Shabbat service a year get there hours early (early!) for Kol Nidre.  People who rarely peruse the synagogue bulletin, read every word of the service schedule and parking instructions (and of course the babysitting forms) twice (or three times!) to make sure nothing is missed.  The opportunities for spiritual experience can be found inside the synagogue (and outside as well) all year round – the network is always there, but on these few days, the burst of activity nearly overloads the system.

And the same occurrence happens in less Jewish religious experiences as well. Many people who have never thought of joining the JCC also never fail to miss the JCC community festival. And even those Jews who spend time in the Jewish community living and learning on a more consistent basis create their own times when their Jewish lives slow down or speed up – taking the summers “off” from the Jewish engagement and then bursting back into their Jewish lives as the first leaves fall in autumn.

Without surveying the vast landscape of literature on the state of modern Jewry, it is easy to recognize that the “Jew within” as described by Cohen and Eisen continues to redefine Jewish behavior across the spectrum of Jewish life. And while there are plenty of studies that review patterns of Jewish association and engagement, I have found that many of them fail to make the final reduction of theory into what is increasingly obvious – Jewish life in 2009 is not only made of the “sovereign Jew” choosing experiences and investing time and money in independent manners, but those experiences and investments are increasingly coming the form of discontinuous bursts. These bursts manifest themselves episodically over the course of Jewish lives, but also on a much short timeframes; bursts of Jewish engagement may cycle in the matter of weeks or months.  Taken together, these patterns of bursts of engagement give flavor to the burstyness of Jewish life as a whole.

And I don’t believe that as organizations, communities and as a broader people we have sufficiently adapted the opportunities for Jewish engagement to be responsive to this developing landscape of Jewish burstyness. As professionals and as volunteers we need to do so – much faster than we have to date. And our response can’t be bursty – it needs to be strong and consistent.

I will leave it to the much more thoughtful Jewish thinkers and academics to explain in more artful terms the nature of Jewish burstyness. But I think the imperative is simple enough – we need to develop Jewish experiences that create more and longer sustaining bursts of Jewish engagement. Birthright is one example of a large-scale systemic approach to developing one particular burst of Jewish experience and one correlative impact – a bursty experience of Israel is intended to create a lifetime of affinity for Israel. Without exploring the merits or results of that approach, one thing is clear – there is a burst of activity.  How we sustain that burst is another matter altogether, and as more and more communities focus on developing “post-Birthright programming” what they are beginning to find out is that when you start with a high quality, high-energy burst, the follow-up opportunities for subsequent burst need to be equally attractive and inspiring. If not, that initial burst may turn out to be… well … a bust.

So the question we should then ask, must ask, of our existing Jewish infrastructure is this: Are we designing and implementing opportunities for Jewish experience that are responsive to the bursty nature of modern Jews?  Similarly, are we coordinating the opportunities for bursts of Jewish activity in a way that help increase the number of bursts, sustain their lengthen and increase their magnitude?  These questions are questions that can be reduced to a more granular set of questions for each organization and initiative. For example, when planning a multi-part education/social/philanthropic initiative, is the programming responsive to the bursty nature of the target audience? Does its time commitment parameters exceed the typical length of burst that the target audience considers “available engagement time” for the offered experience? What is the follow-up plan for the burst, and when is the next burst opportunity?  If the answers to these questions aren’t known, or aren’t even considered, than it is likely that the potential of that specific opportunity to develop and magnify the number of Jewish bursts will be limited.

So back to network theory  – most network developers would tell you that a high functioning network is less bursty and more regular in its performance.  The network should be used in an optimal manner with a high level of activity so that bursts are irregular, not the norm. 

However, the Jewish network is a bit different… in an era where the level of engagement is inconsistent, and where we seek to encourage a high level of activity, bursts of activity and results in the “Jewish engagement network” are signs of what works, and perhaps what doesn’t. Understanding what makes Jews bursty will ultimately strengthen the future of one of the most important networks of all – the Jewish people.

The Fill-up and the Top-off (of Jewish Fuel Tanks)

Writing this post from the West Coast, my mind is still thinking of things back east – my family, my friends, and my gas shortage.

Wait – my gas shortage?

Yes, for those who have not heard, Atlanta is in the midst of a terrible gas shortage, the lingering consequences of the one-two punch of Hurricanes Gustav and Ike on the Gulf Coast refinery operations. For almost two weeks Atlanta has been suffering though a gas shortage, the like of which that hasn’t been seen since the Carter administration – empty tanks, long lines and rising frustrations.  The other evening on our way home from Rosh Hashana dinner my wife and I drove around for 45 minutes looking for a gas station that was (1) open and (2) had a line less then thirty cars deep. Suffice it to say after passing over twenty gas stations we finally gave up (and less an 1/8 of a tank of gas for our effort).

Now there are several reasons why the gas shortage has continued, and much of it has to do with the hurricane-induced shortage of gasoline deliveries to service stations.  Of course there is also the overarching addiction that our country (and commuter-filled Atlanta) has to automobiles and the gasoline that powers them. But what I find equally if not more frustrating is the fact that the magnitude of the shortage has been increased by the behavior of so many motorists who ceaselessly stop to “top-off” their tanks to make sure that their tank is never less than full. Even if they don’t have the necessity to fill-up, many drivers – motivated by fear – are nonetheless exacerbating the shortage by constantly diminishing the supplies as soon as they arrive by “topping-off” their tank. Now for many drivers who use their vehicles all day to perform their jobs, a full tank is a legitimate concern. But for many others it is not. And this irrational demand takes a substantial toll on the limited supply and exacerbates the shortage.

So, while I was waiting in line the other day to fill up my tank, and now again as I write this post, I can’t help but compare and contrast the way drivers in Atlanta are dealing with filling up their gas tanks with the way so many Jews fill up (or don’t fill up) their personal “Jewish” tanks.

Think of each Jew as a vehicle on a Jewish journey and his/her neshema, or soul, is the tank where they store their Jewish fuel. No less than the gasoline we put in our cars, the Jewish moments of learning, caring, creating and praying fuel those Jewish journeyers onward on their chosen paths. There are plenty of ‘service stations’ along those journeys, and there are different types of experiences that serve as that Jewish fuel. Some are high-octane and some are regular. Some stations are cheaper than others, and some have better customer service. We pass them everyday (or at least have the opportunity to pass them) and sometimes we stop in to top-off our tanks, and sometimes we don’t.  Just like a few of us do with our cars, some of us drive around with our Jewish neshemot on almost empty, and some of us make sure our tanks are always filled.

But in thinking about the gasoline shortage back in Atlanta, what I am wondering is what will it take to create an environment where, just like the gas stations in Atlanta, Jews are willing to wait in line to fill-up and top-off their Jewish experiences. What would it take to motivate those individuals to seek out those Jewish moments with a craving and exasperation they express when seeking ever-so-scarce gasoline?   What kind of Jewish experiences will it take, what kind of Jewish community must we build, to inspire a sense of urgency to fill our Jewish tanks every chance we get?

As I noted above, certainly one thing the Jewish community as a whole should be mindful of is to create a Jewish infrastructure that supports ‘alternative’ approaches of Jewish experience. Much like the mantra of alternative fuels for our automobiles, we should not be too dependent on any one kind of Jewish experience, because when the quality is diminished or there is difficulty in accessing a particular experience, sometimes people just… well… run out.  Instead we need to encourage alternative approaches to providing people the Jewish fuel to fill up their neshema.  Then, in embracing these new approaches, they might find it easier to fill-up and top off, and have a greater desire to do so.

We also must continue to innovate new ideas and new ways to deliver the existing approaches to Jewish experience. Not all that is old is bad (just like not all that is new is good), and we should be mindful that as much as we need to reimagine new experiences, we also need to refine aspects of traditional experiences. Refine them in ways that create demand, not just panic, joy not frustration.

So back to thinking homeward… hopefully in a few days the gas shortage will end and we will be back to our normal ways of consuming fuel. But hopefully this momentary experience with our irrational demand for fossil fuel for our car engines will remind us of the need for our Jewish fuel used in very important engines… engines that take us into our individual and collective Jewish futures.

On Jewish Innovation: Social Entrepreneurs and the Framing of the Zera’im Movement

On my flight this morning from New York to Atlanta an interesting article in the New York Times caught my attention.  The article, authored by Carl Zimmer, examines the recent scientific debate regarding the impact of the introduction of exotic natural species into existing ecosystems.  Whereas much of the dominant scientific thinking on this topic has been that exotic introductions cause mass extinctions of species that might not have otherwise faced extinction, recent research published by Dov Sax, an ecologist at Brown University, and Steven Gaines, a marine biologist at University of California – Santa Barbara, assert a different conclusion. Summarizing this debate, Zimmer writes:

“Exotic species receive lots of attention and create lots of worry. Some scientists consider biological invasions among the top two or three forces driving species into extinction.  But Dr. Sax, Dr. Gaines and several other researchers argues that attitudes about exotic species are too simplistic. While some invasions are indeed devastating, the often do not set off extinctions. They can even spur the evolution of new diversity.”

Interesting – but what does this have to do with Jewish innovation?

Well, back to why I was on a plane in the first place.  The reason I was up in New York was to attend a daylong consultation on Jewish social entrepreneurship co-hosted by the Lippman Kanfer Institute at JESNA in partnership with United Jewish Communities.  The consult brought together a substantial number of social entrepreneurs, funders (in both the federation and foundation communities) and other individuals who work with, support or encourage social entrepreneurship in the Jewish community.  Filling the large auditorium on the first floor of the Kraft Center at Columbia University and spreading out throughout the building for break-out sessions and side-conversations, the attendees generated the type of energy that is typical when a group of like-minded, passionate Jewish professionals and volunteers come together to frame common questions and seek common solutions. While not everyone involved in the world of Jewish innovation was in the room, a critical mass was there, and it symbolized an important step in the continued development of the Jewish innovation movement.

I choose the word “movement” carefully, and not without thoughtful consideration.  In concurrence with some of the remarks made by the hosts of the consult, I too think it is time we frame not only critical questions about Jewish social entrepreneurship (some of those questions were ably identified by the attendees of the consult’s wrap-up session), but we also need to frame its language as well.  And most importantly we need to thoughtfully consider the movement’s place in the continued evolution of the global Jewish community.  But we should not be limited in the framing what lies ahead, we also need to recognize what is already in front of us – a movement in Jewish life that crosses generations, denominations, languages and nationalities. It is a movement that, like other movements in Jewish history is responding not only to a world of Jewish needs, but is also emblematic of a world of Jewish desires. In its nascent stage, it is a movement that benefits from energy and sometimes suffers from excessive self-importance.  But even with its subtle growing pains, this movement is nonetheless growing rapidly, substantially and importantly.

What do we call this movement of social entrepreneurial diversity?  I admit that I find the term “social entrepreneur” to be one that belies the Jewish essence we need to ascribe to it. And I think that, like other Jewish movements in the past, we must find a name that begins to communicate what its fundamental Jewish conception is about.  Because in naming, we begin to create a common understanding of the Jewish act of creation of which we are collectively partaking.

In the search for a name, we seek the essence of that which we will name – that which it is “really about.”  When I think about the essence of Jewish social entrepreneurship, I think it in terms of a manifestation of the planting of seeds of Jewish innovation in our communities.  Seeds that can be planted inside the framework of existing organizations or in new formal and informal organizations.  Seeds that help grow into the Jewish fruits that nourish our communities, help provide shade for those who need a form of Jewish sheltering and provide the important resources and materials of which our communities are built.  These seed sometimes are planted deliberately in one place, or are planted in another place that is more hospitable than all others. Sometimes those seeds are blown across landscapes, finally rooting in the most unexpected or out-of-the-way places.  Some seeds are nurtured and succeed in their natural form of growth, where as others, because of the adversity of the conditions are not destined to grow much at all, instead yielding to the consequences of natural (or contrived) selection.

So for my own purposes, I have started to refer to the movement of Jewish social innovation as the Zera’im movement.  In my own, admittedly more simplistic understanding, it is representative of the way the seeds of Jewish innovation are spreading and developing and the manner in which they are cultivated and understood.

And like the debate referenced in the New York Times article about the impact of human influence on bio-diversity, I think as the Zera’im movement further develops we will need to struggle with its implications, both positive and negative. Will the diversity of innovation and cross-pollinating strengthen us (presumably) or bring about the death knell for certain longstanding institutions (preferably not)?  We need to recognize that early in this movement’s history, data maybe inconclusive and anecdotal evidence will suffer from a certain degree of personal bias.

Rather than posit my own reasoning on these implications (in order to defer to those with more experienced minds on this topic), I pose five key questions that the members, framers, and students of the Zera’im movement will need to encounter as it expands in size, influence and impact in the Jewish world.

1.    As social entrepreneurs and instigators of Jewish social innovation are more frequently recognized and encouraged in the ‘organized’ Jewish world (and correspondingly receiving a larger share of community resources), how do we make sure the migration of attention, energy and resources don’t result in the diminishment or extinction of existing (and critical) Jewish infrastructure?

2.    While we continue to look outside the Jewish community for comparable community and business models for supporting social innovation, how do we continue to frame and focus the concept of social innovation “in a Jewish context” that grounds the movement in Jewish history, knowledge and ethics?

3.    In recognizing the way social innovators view themselves within their communities, how do we create positive patterns and approaches to community engagement that foster the development of new cadres of innovators who choose to innovate in the Jewish world (whether outside or inside existing institutions)?

4.    Recognizing that we need to recruit a greater number of social innovators to hold volunteer/lay leadership roles within larger institutionalized Jewish organizations, how can we simultaneously educate and train our existing lay leadership (who admittedly do not perceive themselves as social innovators) to engage and embrace these agents of innovation and change?

5.    Without erring on the side of over-institutionalizing the systems of Jewish innovation, how will we nonetheless develop a common set of language, practices and understandings that not only support the expansion of the movement, but also inculcate younger generations of Jews to sustain the Zeraim movement in the future?

Those are some heavy questions, and require some heavy consideration. Bt like any movement, we need to continue to focus on the “move” while keeping an eye on what is “me(a)nt” by it. And events like the JESNA/UJC consult in New York help do both – creating networks in which movement is initiated, while also creating dialogue that helps frame greater understanding of the movement itself.

Similar to the understanding of the challenges of biodiversity (higlighted in the NYT article referenced above), as the seeds of Jewish innovation and the Zera’im movement continue to flourish, we need to continue to marvel at their diversity, while guarding against their unintended negative implications in the Jewish world. Because these seeds are not just the seeds of social entrepreneurs, but also the seeds of our collective belief in a Jewish future… a Jewish future that transcends any one innovator, entrepreneur or movement, but is enriched by them all.

Memo to the (Federation) File: The Morning After – Way After

Recently I attended a Saturday evening social event hosted by the Young Leadership Council (YLC) of the Atlanta Federation. The theme was a Bar/Bat Mitzvah throwback party with all the accompaniments – mini hotdogs included (although it is hard to imagine many of the party-goes actually had Duran Duran played at the B’nai Mitzvah party, well… many people other than me).  Regardless of what role you believe Federation should have in community engagement, it is hard not to get excited about events like this… seeing hundreds of young Jewish professionals gathering in a social setting – talking, smiling and moving to the music. From the youngest to the oldest, there were diverse individuals with two overarching bonds – being Jewish and being together.

But more than the feeling – the fundamentals of the evening were solid. There was some subtle but good branding, although I suspect that the education messaging might have been lost on many of the attendees (at least after they had a few drinks).  And unlike the tendency at so many Jewish events, there was no “ask” other than to bring one or two items of canned or dried food for the local Kosher food pantry.  By the time my wife and I left the party (at the same time it seemed the more hip attendees were arriving) there was a 50-60 person line deep to get in.  Now you just don’t see that at many events where Federations convene young adults.  Rather than trying to have young Jews meet Federation on its terms, the Atlanta Federation was meeting them on their terms. In their part of town and in a way in which they wanted to be met, these Jews were being engaged in a personally relevant way. They might not have been educated about community, and they might not have been empowered to make change – but they were certainly engaged. And that is really exciting.

But unfortunately, that was the easy part.

The hard part is the planning, managing and evaluation of all that needs to happen after an event like the one I just described.  And the challenge is best captured in a comment that was made by a friend as we walked out of the party that evening.  Looking at the long line of waiting attendees, and with the ringing of the evening revelry in his ears, he turned to me and said “really great evening, but I wonder what will happen the morning after.”

Interesting question – but one that needs to be coupled with a section question:

Which morning after?

Certainly on the morning immediately following the engagement event certain things should happen. But I am not certain any of those things should be expected of the attendees. The community professionals need to use dynamic technologies to rapidly and responsibly follow-up with the attendees, with a thank- you email, a link to some of the evening’s photos (which become almost instantly ubiquitous on Facebook anyway), and even some upcoming events/opportunities (each of these activities were undertaken by the Atlanta Federation, which has continued to develop and refine its process on follow-up in a very effective manner).

However, the ‘morning after’ follow-up does not consist of just voicing thanks for the memories, but also communicating possibilities for future memories.  And just as critically, the ‘morning after’ is the time to continue planning and preparing for the future engagement moments that manifest on a personal and community level.  Because while the ‘night before’ might be a ‘Jewish moment’ –  we need to continue to recognize that the Jewish moments we create are not singular in nature, but moments that connect to other moments, and then others, and so on.  When we look at the engagement opportunities as Jewish moments (rather than ‘programming’) we begin to create both timely and timeless Jewish connections. And that is what Jewish engagement is about isn’t it?   Connecting Jews to the continuum of Jewish life, learning and experiences rarely occurs in just in one moment, but more often it takes many moments.  And many ‘morning afters.’

So that goes back to the earlier question: which ‘morning after’ should we wonder about?

We need to think hard about that question, because its answer will dictate the planning we make for future Jewish moments, and the way we will measure success.  If we think the very next morning after will result in more contributions, more bequests and more phone-a-than volunteers, then we will likely be disappointed.  Because the next morning after for many of those young Jews will be… well…sleeping in.   Brunch with friends. The things that young Jews do when they are not being engaged Jewishly – living their lives in the places and ways they want to live them. The next morning will not likely be a transformative moment in which the attendees suddenly have an epiphany about the value of Jewish philanthropy. They will not suddenly concern themselves with  the plights of Jews in the Former Soviet Union or in southern Israel.  They will not immediately become donors. And that is why the very ‘next morning’ after is the wrong morning on which we should focus.

The morning after we need to watch is that ‘morning after’ in the future, not too soon but not too far. In that future ‘morning after’ we may find that the Jewish moment at the dance club led to another Jewish moment in which a Jewish romance was kindled. Or perhaps it led to a moment where an opportunity for a Jewish service experience was communicated and realized, all because of a follow-up emails.  Maybe that night at the club put in motion a series of moments where individuals ultimately begin to explore Jewish community with Jewish friends, start Jewish families with plans for Jewish children, and begin to give back with Jewish hearts and generosity.   Maybe there were many Jewish moments and many ‘morning afters’ – all leading to the one morning after in which the efforts are realized in a sense of engagement and connection that, in turn, helps create new moments for others.

So back to the party I attended – it is a fair to ask the question about what we will find the morning after, but it is equally as important to ask which ‘morning after’  about we are speaking.  Short-term measurements alone will result in short-sighted goals and short-term strategies.  And if we are focused on Jewish engagement for the long-term, we can’t short ourselves.  Just as we want Bar/Bat Mitzvahs to propel Jewish youth into their Jewish adulthood, it is fair (and fun) to hope that Bar Mitzvah themed parties might help propel those same Jews (now adults) into a series of moments that further define their Jewish futures and the futures of their families.  And fueled by other Jewish moments created by the community,  these Jews will be propelled to that that future morning after –  a morning after filled with Jews smiling, talking and moving to the music of community…

Not just the music of Duran Duran.

Success vs. Wonder (Finding the Balance of Volunteer Engagement)

I spend a fair amount of time volunteering in the Atlanta community for  Jewish and non-Jewish causes.  And much of my volunteer work involves attending many meetings (in both boardrooms and in parking lots) and reviewing many strategic plans, initiatives, approaches, and objectives.  And while I continue to find meaning in my personal volunteer experience, I have becomes increasingly concerned that we have developed a balance of volunteer life in the Jewish community that incorrectly manifests the essence of the volunteer experience.

In essence, we are focusing increasingly on the language and recognition of success, when I think we should be focusing more on the language and appreciation of wonder.
I worry that by focusing on communal ‘success’, we make our volunteer experiences too objective and results oriented, whereas if we spend more time focusing on the wondrous nature of volunteer experiences, we might actually enhance our volunteers ability to make a difference – individually, Jewishly and communally.

By now those who are familiar with Heschel’s writings know that I am referencing his often-repeated statement that was in the preface to his book of Yiddish poetry:

“I did not ask for success; I asked for wonder. And You gave it to me.”

I admit that I am partial to Heschel in many areas of thinking, but none more than this statement. In its simplicity it is a profound commentary on so much of our lives. However, I have found it particularly insightful in understanding the way we increasingly view our volunteers and volunteer leadership – as instruments of institutional success, rather that embodiments of Jewish wonder.

We need to change this viewpoint.

How many times have you been to a meeting of a Jewish institution where leaders are defining what success might look like in organizational terms rather than Jewish terms? How often does the conversation around the tables of Jewish leaders focus on why certain efforts are (or are not) successful rather than focusing why it is Jewishly important that they are successful?  How many times have individual leaders defined their prospective terms in office by enunciating their ‘goals’ in the beginning of their experience, only to then struggle with the meaning found in achieving those goals once the experience has ended?

In sum, how often do all of the “success-focused” moments in Jewish volunteer life outweigh the “Jewish experiencing and learning” moments that are encountered by volunteers in Jewish organizations?

Admittedly, there needs to be a focus on achieving organizational efforts in a thoughtful, strategic and measurable manner. And key to that focus is the performance of professionals and volunteer leadership working together – seizing opportunities, engaging in tactical approaches and measuring performance.  But that is what happens in for-profit organizations as well. Aren’t Jewish community organizations intended to be different? And doesn’t that raise a few other questions?

In using the secular language of business and organizational management we gain many things.  But what do we lose?

In using business rules, are we losing the wonder of Jewish involvement?

Are we ‘organizing’ so much that we are losing the Jewish ‘experiencing’?

Are we ‘evaluating’ so much that we are losing the Jewish  ‘learning’ and ‘appreciating’?

At their origins, our community institutions where built with an essence of Jewish souls – a collective neshema that reflected the efforts of the many.  Are we in danger of our strategic plans replacing our collective soul as the center of our organizational efforts?

These are some heavy questions that merit significant consideration by minds greater than mine.  But they need to be raised, and they need to be answered, because these questions impact tremendously on the way we engage, educate and empower (what I refer to as the three “E’s”) our community volunteers and leadership.  If we orient our volunteer experiences in ways that only manifest themselves in a semi-professional endeavor for success, what happens when we don’t succeed in a particular endeavor?  What happens when success is elusive and long-term?  Will our volunteers still come back to our community organizations for more experiences, or will they seek out those in which they feel more successful, regardless of whether they are Jewish organizations or not?

My guess is that when we overemphasize ‘success’ to the detriment of encouraging ‘wonder’ we might find that in those areas where success is not instantly measurable we miss the opportunity to engage volunteers in wondrous ways.  Those wondrous ways include helping the volunteers experience spiritual moments, community moments, creative moments and learning moments in their capacity as volunteers.  These moments, taken together, may not instantly yield the measurable success that donors individuals, foundations and federations seek, but they may very well yield the wonder that will fuel future success.

Leveraging highly skilled volunteers to achieve critical plans for the future of the Jewish people is important, and we must not lose sight that we need to measure our performance in achieving those goals. But when volunteers (and even professionals) are oriented to evaluating their experiences in terms of wonder rather than success, they might come back for more – in more ways than they did before.  They will continue to ask for (and experience) wonder, and in turn, be willing to continue to assist with success.

Because we need volunteers that encounter both success and wonder in our communities…

… whether we ask for it or not.

Opinion in the Forward on Enabling Jewish Professionals

In this week’s Jewish Daily Forward there is an opinion piece I wrote about the state of Jewish professionals and what we need to do to encourage them to dream big and believe in their ability to effect change.

The opinion piece can be found here.

In reading week’s Torah parsha Re’eh, we recall how Moses directs the Israelites that if there are needy among them, the Israelites should not harden their hearts and close their hands from helping their needy brothers. And coupled with that directive, Moses also reminds the people that there will always be needy among them.

Jewish professionals embody the fulfillment of Moses’ instructions – they maintain an open hand and a tender heart, and are worthy of not only our encouragement, but also our praise and thanks. While we may always have needy among us – whatever those needs maybe – we should pray that we always have inspired and caring professionals to help the needy, and make our community stronger.

Shabbat Shalom.

Spirit in the Night: Springsteen on Jewish Community

This past Thursday I attended an old-fashioned spiritual revival. It wasn’t at a synagogue or a church and barely a mention of God was heard. But from the moment it started until the last word was spoken, the crowd that assembled was held in an uplifting emotional rapture that stirred the heart, strengthened the soul and made everyone move to the rhythm of the night.

The man who led the revival wasn’t a man of cloth (unless you include denim) and wasn’t passing around a collection plate or tzedakah box at the end of his sermon (unless you include references to the local food bank). But for a large portion of the people in the room, the man up front was guiding everyone thorough an experience that most would characterize as religious.

So who was the leader of this spiritual revival?

Bruce Springsteen.

That’s right, Bruce Springsteen. If you have never seen Springsteen in concert you might not appreciate my description, but if you have seen Bruce in concert, even once, you understand what I mean.

As a Northeast kid growing up, it’s hard not to have the Boss in your blood, so I admit I am partial to the man and his legendary band. The Nashville concert I attended with my friend Adam Rubin on Thursday night was the umpteenth time I had seen him in live and, like the Atlanta show a few months earlier, Bruce didn’t disappoint. Listening to a 3-hour set of classics, mixed with rarities and new classics, the audience was delivered a rare treat of spirit, nostalgia, passion and promise. We laughed at stories, sang our (secular) psalms, clapped our hands and praised the past while screaming for the future. We danced in the aisles…even in the dark.

There was definitely a spirit in the night.

Exhilarated and exhausted, on Friday morning I drove the 3 ½ hour trip back to Atlanta and my family, but on the way home I couldn’t help but think about the show the night before and the lessons it held. Not just how to put on a good rock concert, but also how to connect people to their communities, and particularly the Jewish community. What are the lessons that Bruce could teach professionals and volunteers in the Jewish community about how to touch people in a way that revives their Jewish spirit? Using some of the lyrics from the song the Boss sang that night in Nashville, I offer a few thoughts…

“When I’m out in the streets, I walk the way I wanna walk. When I’m out in the street, I talk the way I wanna talk” (from Out in the Streets).

Lesson #1: People use their own actions and language to define who they are. If we want to walk with them and talk with them, we need to understand them first.

Our Jewish community is filled with a diverse group of Jews with individual experiences and aspirations. They are complex and constantly shifting. If we want to understand what will get them to come in off the street, we need to understand how they act and talk when they are out on the street (and in their homes, and in their social groups).

“Jack the Rabbit and Weak Knees Willie, you know they’re gonna be there; Ah, sloppy Sue and Big Bones Billie, they’ll be comin’ up for air” (from Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)).

Lesson #2: All types of people (and I mean all types) will come out for experiences in the community, so if we want them to come back, we need to have diverse options for their diverse needs and desires.

Members of the Jewish community, especially younger generations, don’t always conform to what the community expects, they expect the community to conform its offerings to their expectations. They have different names than they once had (because of intermarriage) and they have different ways of communicating (because of technological innovation). When they finally come up for air to breathe some breaths of Jewish life, we need to have what they are seeking – or they will seek it elsewhere.

“Show a little faith, there’s magic in the night” (from Thunder Road).

Lesson #3: Have faith in what lies ahead – when we create a constant culture of apprehension and fear about the state of our community, we leave little room for the faith in the magical future that lies ahead.

There is much to be concerned about with our collective Jewish future. How do we engage assimilation in different ways that may be more impactful? How do we prepare for the increasing number of Jewish elderly that we must care for? How do we help support a safe and strong State of Israel? But for all of those concerns, we must make sure that we don’t only focus on the challenges, but also the wondrous experiences of modern Jewish life. There are many magical experiences to have and share and we need to make sure that we encourage and embrace that culture as well.

“Someday girl I don’t know when, we’re gonna get to that place where we really want to go and we’ll walk in the sun” (from Born to Run).

Lesson #4: Community leadership needs to believe in the ability to reach the destination charted for the community, even if we can’t quite measure the timing of that arrival.

In our focus on measuring success in quantifiable terms we sometimes belie the faith we must have to assure the very same success we seek. Especially in the areas of Jewish engagement and enrichment, we need to look longer term with a degree of patience. And our funders (federations, foundations and otherwise) need to find some of that patience too while balancing it with the appropriate level of fiduciary oversight. We might not know when we will get ‘there,’ but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep trying, or that it will be any less wonderful when we do arrive at that place we seek.

“You can’t start a fire; you can’t start a fire without a spark” (from Dancing in the Dark).

Lesson #5: The rapturous flames of community do not start without instigation – they need a catalyst (or several).

Building community has a slow burning element to it, but it also sometimes requires a fanning of the flames. And those flames don’t always start without there being an encouragement of new ideas, new sparks, that help the burning to create community grow. We need to orient our community institutions to nurture these catalysts and to support them. Support isn’t just financial, it includes encouragement and mentoring too – but when the time for financial support does come we should not be overcautious. If we snuff out too many sparks we won’t have a fire that is growing.

“Mister I ain’t a boy, no I’m a man; and I believe in a promised land” (from Promised Land).

Lesson #6: We need to create personal and enduring relationships between individuals Jews and Israel that transcend childhood and teen experiences.

My friend Ken Stein often reminds me that while we must create connections with Israel at the teen level, we must not lose sight that it is when we create meaningful experiences that endure throughout adulthood we will truly be able deepen our relationships with Israel. So while we invest in programs like Birthright, we must also start younger and maintain those experiences far after the Birthright experience has ended. In our era of Jewish life we have witnessed the return of the Jewish People to the Promised Land- we need to continue to believe in its importance, and create avenues that strengthen that belief in youth and adults.

“I believe in the love that you gave me; I believe in the faith that could save me. I believe in the hope and I pray that some day it may raise me above these Badlands” (from Badlands).

Lesson #7: When building community, we must not lose sight of the religious and spiritual elements that give meaning to the Jewish faith.

There is more to the Jewish community than organizations, activities and experiences. There is also a faith, a belief system and a spiritual fabric, and we would be remiss not to emphasis those elements as we try to raise our community higher. Formal and informal spiritual networks are vitally important for the strengthening of our community because it is our collective faith that has helped us endure all these generations. Belief and prayer are important parts of Jewish life and we need to continue to embrace them as a way to encounter God as individuals and as a community.

“Sky of love, sky of tears (a dream of life); Sky of glory and sadness (a dream of life)” (from The Rising).

Lesson #8: The skyline of Jewish life is filled with love and glory even while it sometimes feels filled with tears and sadness. The key is continuing to dream of what Jewish life could be.

We often struggle with the tragedy of the Holocaust in Jewish history and life as well as seek understanding of the countless tragedies Jews have suffered in the past. We mustn’t lose sight of the experiences and lessons of being an afflicted people, but we shouldn’t let it cloud our ability of also being a dreaming people. A people of creators and inventors, and people that find joy in the everyday. We continue to dream of Jewish futures – near, far and ultimate. And we need to continue to keep painting the sky with those dreams even as we guard against the danger that often confronts us.

“Familiar faces around me; Laughter fills the air; Your loving grace surrounds me;
everybody’s here” (from Mary’s Place).”

Lesson #9: The goal of building community is not just to collect as many names and emails as possible, but to bring people together for experiences of joy and the feeling of community.

Ask a dozen people how they define community and you get a dozen different responses. Often time one can describe community as a “know it when I feel it” answer. That is the way we need to remember the goal of community building – not just a means to an end, but an end to itself. When we are all together in community we are closer to God and the wonder of all of creation. Lists of names are important, but not as important as when they are all familiar names.

“We made a promise we swore we’d always remember; no retreat no surrender” (from No Surrender).

Lesson #10: Don’t quit.

Being Jewish isn’t always easy. And building Jewish community is even less easy. But it is meaningfully important – it is our great task as a people. We may struggle, but we mustn’t quit – regardless of the challenges.

So there you have it, some of the wisdom with a little bit of ‘drash thrown in for good measure. Whether you agree with all of the interpretations or none of them, one thing that we all can agree on is that a look at Bruce’s lyrics (and exhortations) present a distinct voice that is able to capture prophetic musings while rooting them in everyday struggles. He is a leader with a voice.

But not to be lost in our appreciation of Bruce is the recognition of the E Street Band. Every night, as Bruce tries to deliver his flock of fans to the Promised Land, the E Street Band is carrying Bruce too. He couldn’t do it without them. And that too is a reminder to all of us that even though we admire our leaders who find the voice to lead, the singer is just one part of a band. To make the music that moves us, it takes many instruments and rhythms, mostly in sync, but not necessarily always. Some times the sound that comes from the band is mixed, but if it’s loud enough it still might push us through the darkness on the edge of town into the promised land. And even the followers of the band help push the whole crowd forward…dancing, swinging and urging the revival to continue.

Like the fans at a Springsteen concert urging the rock n’ roll revival to continue, we all must take a role in the continuation of the revival of our Jewish community. Leaders, band members, followers and fans – we all have a role in building community. Nobody can do it alone… not even Bruce Springsteen.

But it sure is fun watching him try.