When I was in college I had a rude awakening about Jewish philanthropy. One of the most popular Jewish fraternities on campus was famous for the most successful fraternity fundraising at Northwestern University, raising thousands of dollars each year for Multiple Sclerosis (MS). This annoyed me, not because I don’t care about MS, but because each year, when I solicited my Jewish classmates for UJA, these guys gave almost nothing. They identified as Jews, they joined a Jewish house, and they were philanthropic – but not to Jewish causes.
Now don’t misunderstand. I have non Jewish passions. But on a very deep level, I know that Jewish causes are what need me most. There are 300 million people in the U.S. Six million of them are Jewish. That’s a lot of people available to care about MS, but precious few to care about the existence of our people.
In my house there was much inspiration for giving Jewishly. We went to Israel often, celebrated Shabbat and the holidays, and watched my mom go to UJA meetings. I knew, without a doubt, that my parents wanted me to grow to be a committed Jew. Their expectations and hopes were crystal clear. But I have friends who have blown off all of their Jewish background, and they grew up in homes similar to mine. I really think that passing on care for Judaism and Jewish philanthropy is one of those things where you try everything, repeatedly, and see what sticks.
I remember one “give to your own” message that really moved me. A Hebrew school teacher said that it would be my generation that would finish up what Hitler didn’t – that we would be the ones to assimilate the Jewish People out of existence. I believed him and it scared me. I’m not saying that fear and guilt are the best motivators, but at that particular moment they were the ones that resonated with me.
I don’t think it’s ever too early to scare or inspire the next generation. Two of my daughters are 11 and 12 and this summer the three of us read Exodus, by Leon Uris, aloud together. I loved it, not only because it is a great novel, but because it gave me the opportunity to scare and inspire. I’d be reading and stop mid-sentence and say, “See you guys? See how hard it was for Israel to even exist? See how the world hated us?” And then the inspiration: “See how the tiny Israel army beat those huge Arab armies?” Of course my kids rolled their eyes, but I think they half listened too.
It is really hard to tackle the topic of family Jewish philanthropy honestly and openly. Involved parents sometimes speak about how it hurts to see their grown children disconnected or disinterested. Yet even though it is difficult, it can’t be ignored. And we can’t afford to fail. Maybe it doesn’t matter so much whether you are teaching your children about Jewish giving with love, or scaring them, or inspiring them, or figuring out where you stand personally on the subject. The important thing is that it is on the table, something to talk about and learn about. We can strengthen our family’s connection to Jewish philanthropy – and learn how to take or improve the journey together. By doing so, it will not only help the community we care so much about but will help strengthen our connection to our families.
Archie Gottesman was a co-chair of JCF’s Family Philanthropy Evening on Oct. 7, 2007. This article was adapted from her opening remarks.