It's A Family Thing

Children of Israel Are Never Alone

Hey, beloved tribe.

It’s Friday and our tsuris is through the roof.

The Jewish conspiracy theories around Epstein are dialed up to 11, with the most common being that Mossad was running the whole ring.

We appear to be on the brink of striking Iran, and while it bothers me not at all to imagine an attack on their nuclear abilities and their weapons cache, I fear a retaliatory strike against Israel.

PEN America’s sickening capitulation to antizionism is complete, upholding their anti-cancellation policy in favor of free speech for everyone but Jews. (If you have the stomach for it, you can read more about that HERE.)

But we’re going into Shabbat so I’m going to tell what I hope and believe is an uplifting story.

Telling it means I have to confess a most inane mistake on my part.

There’s a conference for Jewish professionals beginning on Sunday in Louisville, Kentucky that I was invited to participate in. When I went to their website and read the description, my eyes lit up like a menorah on the 8th night:

Since October 7, people like you – parents, young adults, students, professionals, and activists across North America – have been gathering in living rooms, community centers, WhatsApp groups, and campus lounges. A new generation of activists have been awakened by Jewish pride, a desire for Jewish community, and the fight against antisemitism. You’ve been hosting holiday celebrations, launching networks, leading actions, and having hard conversations.

This network exists for people who didn’t wait for permission, who filled gaps, who turned shock and urgency into action. People like you who built trust, gathered allies, and developed new responses. We’re here to support you. To back that courage, make the work easier, and connect you to others building a new movement of proud Jews across the continent. Join us!

Not only did the prospect of this conference fill me with tremendous excitement, but the organizers were offering such generous subsidies: free hotel, free meals, ground transportation covered, even part of my flight covered.

I couldn’t say yes fast enough. And then I hopped on Expedia in a white-hot fever of excitement and booked my ticket.

To Lexington, Kentucky.

Not Louisville, Kentucky.

Womp womp.

Now, it’s the luckiest thing in the world that I realized the error before landing in Lexington, climbing into a Lyft, and being told there was no such hotel in the city.

But what an awful moment that was. I’d pinged a friend via Messenger to tell her I was on my way to her old stomping grounds. That’s when I remembered she was from Louisville.

Oh my God, oh my God, I thought. How did I mix the two cities up in our conversation? I didn’t mix them up when I was buying the plane tickets… did I?

Heart pounding, I went to Expedia to look at my itinerary. But I didn’t even have to open it. Already the site was cheerily informing me: It’s almost time for your flight to Lexington!

Imagine the adrenaline of this realization spurting all over my insides like black squid ink.

Immediately I started looking at train or bus services. There were no trains. There was one bus a day and it took nearly 8 hours for an 80-mile drive.

I realized I’d have to rent a car and just drive to Louisville, and while I could not have been more relieved that the towns were less than 2 hours apart, the rental was so expensive and I knew I’d have to deal with parking and gas on top of that, not to mention driving a strange car between strange towns not one hour off a brutal 9-hour cross-country red-eye flight.

I couldn’t believe I’d done this to myself.

But here’s the good news. Within an hour of sharing my misery online, and to my utter amazement, I was offered two rides by two different fellow Jews — the loveliest of human beings — which would cover both my arrival and return.

And, as I always say in these situations, this is what it means to be a family. It’s worth more than gold.

I absolutely try to play a similar role myself, whenever given the chance. Not long ago, a Jewish Facebook friend was stranded in Portland for a whole day with all his luggage, and it was an easy decision to go get him, bring him back to my house, let him leave his stuff in our guest room, let him shower, allow him to enjoy the city all day unencumbered, give him dinner and then drive him to the airport.

I walk around on fire with love for our people. The more they hate us, the hotter my love burns. I love being a Jewish den mother. I love taking care of our own in any way I can. I love being a worldwide family. And the more you put in, the more you get back. Everywhere I went in Israel, I had somewhere to stay and when a friend couldn’t take me in, they’d arrange for a neighbor to give me a bed. I stayed with real-life friends and Facebook friends and total strangers, and every single place felt familiar and haimish.

There’s one more aspect of this story I want to share here.

I was so upset with myself for this mistake. I felt like a prize jackass. When I posted about it online, most people were absolutely lovely and told stories about their own similar mistakes, but one person commented: “How could you screw up something so simple?!”

Which was, of course, exactly what I’d been saying to myself. I already felt mortified, frustrated and filled with dread.

But I actually made a decision inspired by my Chabad rebbetzin, who is always urging what she calls a “positivity bias” in response to everything that happens to us. Look for the good in every situation, she always says.

So I made a decision even before my two rescuers stepped in, to find the reason I’d diverted myself to Lexington. What good things did this experience have to offer that I could not have gotten had I gone straight to Louisville?

And I don’t mean that everything happens for a reason — I don’t believe that and I hate that saying. But I do believe that we have the ability to make our own meaning. So I resolved to make this mistake yield something good.

And it already has. I’m so humbled by the generosity of my two valiant drivers. I’m genuinely excited that I get to spend undivided time talking with each of them that I never could have spent otherwise. The familial feeling I cherish so much has been profoundly reinforced, fueling me to provide more mitzvot of my own in the future.

Okay, fam. Because this conference doesn’t end until Tuesday and I’ll spend the rest of the day getting home, I don’t expect to be back with you until Wednesday at the earliest. But I also hope and believe I’ll have a treasure trove of new resources to share after this event, which is the whole point.

In the meantime, I’m wishing you a restorative and meaningful Sabbath!

Shabbat shalom.

Am Yisrael Chai.