Seth Goren is the Chief Executive Officer of Hillel Ontario.
The Jewish professional world has lurched from crisis to crisis over the past several years, but the last few months have been the most challenging of my nearly two decades of Jewish campus and young adult work. In the 2022-2023 academic year, Hillel Ontario had fewer than 100 reports of antisemitic incidents; in the year that just ended, we had about 500. Moreover, the nature of these incidents is worse: mezuzot torn off dorm room door frames and smashed, rocks thrown through the window of a student who had hosted an Israel-related event, and Jewish guests at a Halloween party harassed by attendees dressed as Hamas terrorists. I find myself longing for the days of swastikas drawn on dry erase boards and the stray teaching assistant who offhandedly called Israel an apartheid state.
Even as ongoing tumult makes forecasting the future difficult at best, I am buckling up for an extended and bumpy ride when we get back to campus this fall. I am thinking in particular about how campus professionals can better partner with the Jewish community beyond campus, the organizations and individuals who want to help and support Jewish students. I want to lay the groundwork for partnerships with off-campus Jewish lay leaders, professionals, and others who can support meaningful contributions to campus life. Unfortunately, over the last year, I have seen that certain kinds of attention from off campus can undermine our collective capacity to address, prevent, and reduce antisemitism on campus.
Below, I begin with three basic observations about campus Jewish life over the last academic year. I then describe four problematic patterns in the help offered by off-campus community members and organizations disturbed by reports of antisemitism on campus. The list draws on my experience at the largest Hillel in the world, one that serves nine universities and twenty-four campuses with a total of about fourteen thousand Jewish undergraduates, as well as conversations with wise and trusted colleagues at other North American Hillels. Finally, I offer suggestions for moving forward in a better way together.
Basic Observations
• The primary cause of antisemitism on campus is antisemites on campus.
It might be obvious, but the people who are responsible for the upsurge in campus antisemitism and the increasing intensity of those acts are those who contribute to, perpetrate, and enable antisemitic acts. Yes, there are administrators who could do more or who pay lip service instead of acting—and the difficulties I raise below complicate matters further—but we would do well to remember the immediate source of our shared communal threat.
• Most community partners—Jewish and otherwise—have been outstanding.
Stellar partnerships with professionals, lay leaders, grassroots volunteers, and non-Jewish allies have been the norm. These partnerships are the result of the energy we put into building relationships with other leaders and groups, both on campus and off, long before October 7. Volunteers have brought lunch to students, sat with them and listened to their stories and reminded them they are not alone; they have offered free therapy sessions, written letters of encouragement and love, sent emails to administration, stood alongside students at vigils and other public gatherings, and made financial contributions to our work.
Community partners have advocated not just for our students, but for our professional staff as well, understanding that some of the most effective work we do is not public and that the trusted and familiar relationships we’ve built with administration, faculty, and student groups allow us to keep Jewish students safer in profoundly meaningful ways. Just as importantly, they’ve asked tough questions about our methods and strategies as well as brought their own ideas to the table, which in turn makes us more effective.
• The Jewish community worldwide is experiencing varying degrees of trauma.
The trauma of different communities is not the same. People may jump to war metaphors when talking about campus, but I would never compare my experiences to what most Israelis are going through. Suffice it to say that almost all of us are understandably afraid, angry, and sad, among other feelings, and many of us are acting from those emotions. As a result, our patience can run thin.
I offer these observations as a preamble for the list of frictions that follows, which some in Jewish organizational or communal life beyond the campus may find hard to read. But the truth is that there are Jewish organizations and members of the Jewish community, both professional and lay, who, in seeking to do good, are unfortunately doing harm to our efforts to combat campus antisemitism. While the four patterns of behavior I describe below have been seen at campuses across North America, I supplement my descriptions with specific examples from my own work.
Problematic Patterns
• Harboring the Best of Intentions
Some lay members of the community engage on campus with positive intentions, but their justifiable fear, anger, and sadness draw them away from addressing campus antisemitism with strategies, well-defined desired outcomes, and a set of actions that will get us there. Expectations and timelines are often at odds with legal and other constraints, which can result in unreasonable requests, such as an ultimatum that a tenured professor be fired by the week’s end.
Multiple times a week, an individual reaches out to us to forcefully demand that we launch a new initiative that they believe will effectively combat or even end campus antisemitism. Many of these ideas deserve further exploration, and we are eager to dive in; others are (a) actions we are already taking, (b) problematic, like the suggestion we partner with the militant Jewish Defense League because “they’re really good with leadership and taking a stand,” or (c) creative, but peripheral for a campus community, like the strong insistence that we prioritize and assemble a public campaign condemning the Pope’s Christmas Day message.
These interventions, which are rooted in good intentions but are largely impossible and/or irrelevant for the campus environment, distract us from achievable goals and consume valuable professional time—time that is already in short supply—by pulling staff away from working with and for students. Simply put, good intentions do not always translate into effective support for students or substantive positive change on campus, but instead can create complications Hillel professionals must then manage.
• Overstretching Thin Relationships
Some Jewish professionals serve colleges and universities as a component of a much wider, general set of duties. Their understanding of any given campus is limited, as is their lived experience with students. Thus, all too often, they arrive on a campus, run a program or initiate a conversation, and then leave. Their campus connections are understandably more tenuous than those of a fulltime campus Jewish professional and yet, the community expects their efforts will produce extraordinary results.
At times of crisis, external pressures can compel such professionals to prioritize their campus work, though they remain limited in their familiarity with particular campuses or even in their ability to engage effectively with students or administration. This can make Hillel’s work, students’ lives, and bettering the campus environment that much harder.
Again, an example of a frequently recurring event: a professional holding thin relationships with high-level university administrators emails them with forceful demands, the fulfillment of which are outside the authority of the university’s own policies and the law. In their confusion and uncertainty, administrators then contact Hillel, their local go-to contact for Jewish matters, to inquire about the sender of that email and its content. We subsequently have to smooth things over and rectify the situation, often without any prior knowledge of the communication.
There are meaningful ways that other organizations can make a difference on campus, and making demands of administrations is necessary; the best way to do that work is in partnership and consultation so that we can use community resources efficiently and ensure that our actions have maximum practical impact.
• Insisting on a Single Tool
Some individuals approach campus wanting to fight back in very particular, aggressive, public, and social media-centered ways. At Hillel, we do our utmost to ensure accountability for antisemitism and consistency in enforcing rules, regulations, and laws. All the same, we know that advocacy takes different forms for different students; appropriate responses to anti-Israel or antisemitic events on campus include openly wearing a Magen David, attending a communal Shabbat dinner for the first time, putting up posters about the hostages in Gaza, or organizing and attending a public rally, among others. We are proud of the way we work with individual students to develop modes of advocacy that resonate with each of them and empower them to be more effective as advocates, rather than persuading or coercing them into all acting in the same mode.
Numerous community members disagree with this diversified approach, defining advocacy in extremely narrow ways and discounting the merit of any actions that fall short of it. I have been dismayed at hearing today’s students called “weak,” “broken,” and “coddled,” or being told that they lack the ability to stand up for themselves. One community member targeted our support gatherings for students to share and process their feelings, saying, “If these kids are so messed up, tell them to go get therapy so they can get back in the game. Don’t they understand what we’re up against?” When I wrote that “no campus advocacy goal is worth Jewish students’ blood” in a shared set of talking points, a community member said this statement was “controversial” and “could be interpreted as weakness.”
I, too, want students to be proud of who they are and to be a part of processes that hold perpetrators of antisemitism accountable. We regularly refer students to legal resources, but for most, suing the institution where they study and pursue a degree feels overwhelming. Nevertheless, the belief that anything short of a lawsuit is the equivalent of surrendering to antisemitism is a sentiment our staff and students hear regularly from well-intentioned members of our Jewish community. Shaming students as a group for choosing modes of advocacy, community participation, and public displays of pride that differ from those you would choose is unlikely to bolster their sense of safety, belonging, or Jewish pride. It is, in fact, counterproductive and makes them less likely to engage in advocacy or Jewish life more broadly.
• Spreading Hate
Finally, Hillels get hate mail from members of the off-campus Jewish community. Yes, hate mail. It is about as insulting and offensive as the hate mail we get from antisemites, but far more demoralizing. We hear that this is “all your fault” or that we are “pathetic” or “cowards” or “leading our kids to the gas chambers all over again.” Logic is often lacking: one emailer told us “your screaming about anti Semitism [sic] on campuses when you helped create it,” referencing events that took place at the University of Chicago Hillel nearly twenty years ago. Openings for discussion and mutual learning are rare; although I was temporarily charmed and willing to continue chatting briefly with the person who said I was a “court Jew,” being called a “kapo” is a conversation ender. This vitriol is not only aimed at our staff: we regularly have to ask members of the Jewish community to stop directing invective at student leaders. Like many of my colleagues, I no longer answer unrecognized numbers on my phone because there is a decent chance it is a member of the Jewish community calling to scream at and insult me. These are ugly times.
Hillel staff are fighting campus antisemitism and caring for the students affected by it while also bearing the larger community’s fury and fire. We don’t need the added burden created by those who engage with campus in unhelpful or counterproductive ways, whether the outcomes are intentional or not. Those of us who are doing campus work every day, who know the students and their stories, must deal with outcomes caused by outsiders’ decisions. I have lost track of how many times outsiders have used Jewish students as cannon fodder to advance their own agendas and then walked away, leaving our staff to sit with those students as they cried and bore the consequences of what others incited; I cannot count how often I have had to comfort staff members whose months-long efforts have been fatally undermined by interlopers, or to plead with other Jewish professionals to consult with us when operating on campus, as they had repeatedly agreed to do. It is not a good use of our time to be forced to prevent destructive behavior that makes Jewish students’ lives worse, or to have to fix the problems that others create, even as we respond—as politely and professionally as possible—to frequent and often public verbal beatdowns and humiliations from community members and colleagues. Every hour that Hillel professionals must spend engaging the wider Jewish community around such issues is an hour we cannot spend with students who are in dire need of our support.
I do believe this is an all-hands-on-deck moment, and we need and seek thoughtful partners at our side who are eager to be a part of this struggle. That requires us to be open with each other about how things are progressing and how we can marshal our resources most effectively at any particular moment, given how fluid current situations are and how rapid changes can make yesterday’s brilliant idea irrelevant or, worse, can cause today’s crisis.
Hillels across North America have been providing support for students in a year like no other. As we consider the impact of burnout and fatigue on Jewish professionals, especially since October 7, we must ask how durable, productive, respectful campus staff/community partnerships can bolster the odds of retaining talented and essential staff in their roles. To lose those with the most expertise in campus Jewish life at this critical juncture would be an indescribable setback, and easing unnecessary burdens on those with requisite knowledge and skill must be a key component of any credible plan to prevent, respond to, and fight against campus antisemitism.
I am passionate about my campus work. Though it is demanding in a way few could have imagined, our efforts continue to be meaningful and crucial, and we do have a unique and important vantage point when it comes to campus life. My love for Hillel, my enthusiasm for students, and my faith in the Jewish community beyond our gates takes me to these final points and suggestions for those who want to know what they can do to be constructively involved…