I walked from synagogue to Shabbat dinner tonight amid the fireflies, sparks of light I haven’t seen since I was a child celebrating Jewish holidays at my grandparents’ home. I felt that piece of my identity come alive before I even sat down to the Shabbos table — alongside sixteen people of their generation, grandparents and great grandparents, matriarchs and patriarchs of families. We sang the kiddush, broke challah, sipped wine, shared dishes and spoke of sweet moments from the past week, identity, family, politics, values, peoplehood. I felt at home, I felt seen, I felt loved, I felt proud to be a member of our tribe and I felt entrusted with a piece of the future of our collective identity. Just like the two flags I saw flying side by side outside this beautiful home where we gathered to honor age old tradition on a Friday night, I hold dear many elements of my identity simultaneously — a passionate, proactive American Jew. 🙏🏾
