Across the community, families are confronting an escalating challenge: the cost of tuition. For many, these expenses have grown into one of the heaviest financial burdens they carry, forcing difficult decisions and putting strain on households. The issue is no longer isolated – it is widespread, affecting parents from all walks of life.
Enter UCEF (United Children Education Foundation), a grassroots effort that has quickly gained momentum by approaching the tuition crisis in a new way. Rather than leaving parents to shoulder the burden alone, UCEF taps into the collective power of the community. The idea is simple yet powerful: when everyone contributes where they can, the impact multiplies.
UCEF has already begun to prove this model works. Its vendor partnerships generate ongoing royalties for tuition. Its insurance collaborations save families money while directing funds back toward education. And with additional creative programs in the works, UCEF is constantly finding fresh ways to reduce costs and increase support.
Of course, everyone complains about tuition – but the question is, are we ready to do something about it? UCEF offers countless ways to make a difference: through your business, your insurance, your shopping, and through new ideas that are just getting started. No one is asked to go out of their comfort zone. What’s needed is for everyone to get involved in ways within their reach. UCEF doesn’t claim it can erase tuition overnight – but the more people who step up, the faster real change will come.
As Executive Director Sammy Esses puts it: “Our community is amazing, we always step up when someone is in need. Right now, most of the community needs help. Everyone in this community can play a roll, all we ask is that you take a couple of minutes to learn more about what UCEF does and reach out to me – call or text 917-647-9276, or email Sammy@ucef.com. Let’s have a conversation to see how you can be part of the solution.”
Magen David Yeshivah Students Honor the Legacy of Their Heritage
Last month, the students of Magen David Yeshivah paid a meaningful and moving tribute to its foundational roots by gathering for the annual Selichot Gedolah program. This year’s event was held within the historic Magen David Synagogue on 67th Street, the very location where the community’s inspiring story first began.
The program commenced with Rabbi Eli Mansour offering impactful words that underscored the profound spiritual significance of the day, emphasizing the importance of repentance and reflection as the Yamim Noraim (High Holy Days) approach. Following the Rabbi’s address, the congregation was led in the powerful liturgical songs of Selichot by Hazzan Mordechai Salem. The atmosphere allowed both students and long-time members to deeply connect with the traditions of their forefathers. It was a beautiful expression of kavod (respect) for the past, inspiring the present generation to maintain the chain of mesorah (tradition) with strength and devotion.
Flatbush Shomrim and NYPD Nab Car Theft Suspect
In a powerful testament to community vigilance and seamless cooperation with law enforcement, volunteers from Flatbush Shomrim (FSSP) recently played a critical role in the recovery of a stolen vehicle, in an operation that ultimately led to the discovery of a larger criminal network operating across the boroughs.
The incident began when Shomrim volunteers were alerted to the theft of an Acura. Utilizing advanced tracking systems available to the organization, volunteers successfully located the stolen vehicle in a specific location within the Bronx. Following established protocol, the Shomrim team immediately notified the New York City Police Department (NYPD) of the confirmed location.
NYPD officers quickly responded to the area, where they successfully took a suspect into custody. The subsequent investigation and search prompted by this initial recovery uncovered a much more extensive operation. Law enforcement confirmed that the search led not only to the apprehension of the individual but also to the recovery of multiple stolen vehicles, an inventory of various stolen license plates, and an assortment of sophisticated electronic devices used to facilitate vehicle thefts.
This operation highlights the invaluable commitment of Flatbush Shomrim’s dedicated volunteers, who work tirelessly, often behind the scenes, to ensure the security and stability of the community.
When good people experience pain in life, they may feel like Hashem is betraying them, chas v’shalom. They have been trying to be the best they can be; they have gotten closer to Hashem, yet it doesn’t seem that He is getting closer to them. But that is incorrect. They only feel that way because they don’t understand Hashem properly.
Rabbi Yosef Mugrabi gave a mashal of an elderly farmer who had been retired for years. In his yard there was a large, deep pit in his yard that had previously been used as a well. One day, his donkey, who was also getting on in years, slipped and fell into the pit. The animal cried and screamed for help, but the old man was not able to pull the donkey out. He then took a shovel and began throwing earth into the pit.
I have spent so many years serving my owner in good faith, the donkey thought, and now he’s just going to bug me alive because he can’t get me out of here? Every shovelful of earth that hit the donkey’s back felt like fire. The pain was intolerable. But the dirt kept coming and the donkey understood that if it didn’t do something about it, it would be buried alive.
It looked to the right and it looked to the left and saw earth piling up. Suddenly, the donkey realized there was a way to use the earth to its benefit. The donkey climbed onto a pile. As each shovelful of earth hit its back, the donkey shook it off to the side, thereby elevating the pile, and climbed higher. It shook off the next batch of earth, again, and climbed higher.
Eventually, the donkey raised itself up to the top of the pit and was reunited once again with its owner, who had been hoping that the donkey would use the earth that way.
In life there are challenges, and sometimes they are very painful. There is no lack of situations that cause people to feel betrayed:
– A father raised four sons and gave them everything. Eventually, they married and moved away. In his old age, the father needed help going to the doctor one day for surgery, but none of his children helped. None of them were willing to give up time from their workday to bring their father to the doctor. The father needed just one child to help him. He had sacrificed the best years of his life for his sons, and now, when he needs assistance, they give him no sympathy. How much pain would that cause a father?
– A man hires an employee and teaches him about his business. He tells him company secrets; he elevates him to a prominent position. One day, the employee tells the boss he’s leaving. He proceeds to open up the exact same business on the same block, three doors away, and takes all the clients with him. How much pain would that cause an employer?
– A couple has a child go off the derech, abandoning Torah and mitzvot, talking disrespectfully. How much pain do the parents have?
– A father and mother have four older daughters, still single, still home. One is 32, one is 35, one is 37, and one is 39. All the parents are asking for is to see at least one wedding. Just let one daughter break the ice and get married! How much pain does that family have?
These are big challenges, and the natural reaction in these circumstances is to feel betrayed. We don’t understand the benefits these challenges are providing us. But we have a choice to make. We can sit and wallow in our misery, or we can use the challenges to elevate ourselves. We can shake them off and grow from them. We can trust that Hashem is giving them to us for our own benefit, as hard as that is to imagine. And if we do that, we’ll look back and say, “My most difficult struggles are what made me into the person I am today.”
There are paintings that are not merely art, but soul. Works in which every brushstroke echoes a verse, and every layer of color carries a prayer. Such is the painting of the artist Yossi Bitton, depicting the Tomb of Rachel Imein, a work that reaches that sacred point where art ceases to be creation and becomes a language of the Jewish heart.
In just a few days, we will mark the 11th of Cheshvan, the day of Rachel Imeinu’s passin, a day when the entire Jewish people pause for a moment to look again toward the first mother of compassion, the one the navi called “Rachel weeping for her children.” Her image is woven into every prayer and every hope; she is not only a story from the past but a living presence in the soul of the nation.
“A voice is heard on high,” says the navi, “lamentation and bitter weeping; Rachel weeping for her children, she refuses to be comforted for her children, for they are no more.” And the Divine response follows with words that have carried our people through millennia: “Refrain your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears, for there is reward for your labor, says the Lord, and your children shall return to their border.”
Few verses in Scripture capture so poignantly the meeting of human pain and eternal comfort. That dialogue, between tears and promise, is the beating heart of Bitton’s painting.
In his portrayal, there is no figure and no face. Rachel herself is unseen, yet powerfully present. The tomb stands at the center of the canvas, wrapped in a soft, golden-white glow, not the light of the sun, but the light of a soul. Around it, the sky shifts between gray clouds and a pale line of blue, mirroring the tension between sorrow and consolation, between exile and redemption. A long gaze at the painting reveals not only layers of pigment, but layers of feeling. It is not a depiction of a place, it is a visual rendering of an eternal covenant.
The artist describes his process in simple words: “I stood before an old photograph of Rachel’s Tomb,” he says, “and I thought, every stone here has absorbed prayer. There is no other place on earth where every tear becomes part of the landscape. When I painted, I didn’t feel I was adding color; I felt I was uncovering what was already there.”
Indeed, Bitton’s work is not about innovation, it is about revelation. Born and raised in Tzfat, the mystical city of light and spirit, he absorbed from his youth the deep connection between creativity and faith. In the narrow alleys of the artists’ quarter he learned that color can be a vessel for the Divine. “In Tzfat,” he recalls, “I learned that art is not an imitation of reality, it is a way to touch the truth beyond it. Every painting is a form of prayer.”
That influence permeates all his works, but especially this one. Bitton’s style combines delicate realism with a sense of haze, an intentional blurring that hints that what is visible is never the whole story. Here, too, the lines of the stones are clear, yet they dissolve in light; the tomb appears solid, yet one feels it might vanish into mist. It is a dialogue between the seen and the unseen, between what the eye perceives and what the heart knows.
In this painting, Bitton captures the essence of Rachel Imeinu herself, a rare fusion of unending sorrow and quiet hope. Rachel is not buried with the Patriarchs and Matriarchs in the Cave of Machpelah but “on the road to Efrat.” She is not at home, and yet by remaining on the road she became the spiritual home of all Israel. She stands there, in the open, waiting for her children. Between Bethlehem and Jerusalem, between exile and redemption, the mother still waits and still prays.
“I wanted to convey that feeling of being on the road,” Bitton explains. “Rachel’s Tomb is not an endpoint, it’s a crossroads. It’s the place where every Jew meets himself on the way back home.” And when one looks at the painting, there is indeed a sense of motion, as if time itself is breathing. The clouds seem to move, the light shifts, the shadows fade. Every moment something changes, as within the praying soul. The viewer feels himself standing there, on that very road where countless generations poured out their hearts, and he hears within his own chest the echo of that ancient cry, the cry of mercy.
The Midrash teaches that when the Jewish people were exiled from Jerusalem, they passed by Rachel’s tomb. She rose from her grave, wept, and pleaded before God to have mercy on them. And God answered: “For your sake, Rachel, I will bring them back.” Since that moment, her image has stood forever as the symbol of prayer without despair.
Bitton, with extraordinary sensitivity, gives that image a new voice, a voice of light. In his painting, even the tears shine. The glow emerging from the stone embodies the hope of redemption, the promise that “your children shall return to their border” is not only a comfort for the past, but a reality drawing near.
Today, Yossi Bitton is recognized as one of the leading names in contemporary Jewish art. His paintings adorn homes, shuls, and galleries around the world, yet they all share one signature: faith. Each work carries an inner radiance, a quiet sanctity that can be felt more than described. He does not paint for novelty’s sake, but to preserve eternity in the heart of man. In “Rachel’s Tomb,” Bitton reaches a point of spiritual and artistic maturity. The background, unlike a classic landscape, is almost abstract. The sky breathes; the boundaries blur. There is no line dividing earth and heaven, light and shadow, weeping and consolation. The entire work is unity.
Perhaps that is why so many are drawn to it. The painting speaks a universal emotional language, yet it remains deeply rooted. It is not simply a beautiful depiction of a holy site; it is a reminder. A reminder to a people still on its journey, a reminder of tears that have not vanished, a reminder of a mother who still waits.
Every year on the 11th of Cheshvan, thousands of Jews travel to Rachel’s Tomb. Many stand there for the first time, overcome by a sense that defies explanation, as if the place itself listens. No many words are needed. A person stands, says one or two, and weeps. That weeping, not of despair but of yearning, may be the purest prayer there is. One feels the same within Bitton’s painting, the solitude, the pain, and the quiet certainty that we are not alone. Bitton defines his work with characteristic humility: “I don’t paint to show what people see,” he says. “I paint to remind them of what they’ve forgotten. We sometimes forget how close Rachel still is to us, how alive her prayer remains within us.” And he is right. Rachel Imeinu is not a figure of the past; she lives with us, weeps with us, embraces us in every prayer. Throughout the generations, from great sages to simple souls, Jews have known that Rachel is the final gate of mercy. When words fail, they go to her. When strength fades, they stand before her. And she, says the Midrash, “is answered immediately.” She understands every broken heart, every pain, every longing.
In that sense, Bitton’s painting is more than an artistic tribute; it is a visual expression of pure faith, the belief that prayers are heard, that compassion endures, and that there is one mother who will not rest until she sees the redemption of her children.
His deliberate use of a warm, almost monochromatic palette is no coincidence. There are no sharp contrasts, no shouting colors. Everything is soft, balanced, quiet, whispering that even within sorrow there is beauty, even within tears there is light. Gaze long enough, and the light seems to change: at times gold, at times mist, at times twilight. Perhaps that is the painting’s way of telling us that sorrow itself transforms, that tears too have a journey.
Many see in this painting not merely a work of art, but a mirror for reflection. It invites stillness, not only to look, but to listen. Perhaps this is why Bitton regards his art not as a profession but as a mission.
“I feel,” he says, “that I was sent to remind people, through color, of what words sometimes cannot say.”
And this year, his painting seems to speak even more directly. The stone that for generations symbolized comfort now also feels like a call, a call from a mother to her nation: Do not forget to pray. Do not forget to weep. Do not forget to believe.
Rachel Imeinu, who once wept for her children as they went into exile, weeps today for her children who have not yet come home, for those still held captive, for those who have not yet been brought to burial, for a nation still praying for complete redemption.
Between the light and the shadow, between tears and hope, the prophet’s words return once more, not only as a promise, but as a mission: “Your children shall return to their border.”
Not only the exiles of Babylon, not only the wanderers of past generations, but all the children, the living and the fallen, the near and the far, those who have returned and those still missing. All of them will come home.
Yossi Bitton’s painting, born of silence and prayer, feels this year almost prophetic. It reminds us that Rachel did not give up then, and she will not give up now. She still stands, on the ancient road, watching over her scattered children, whispering her eternal prayer:
that they return.
That we all may soon behold the day when God’s promise is fulfilled in its fullness
“Refrain your voice from weeping… for there is reward for your labor, says the Lord, and your children shall return to their border.”
There is an 8-letter word that can have consecutive letters taken out and remain a complete word until only one letter is left?
Last Month’s Riddle: On the Right Track
A train 1-mile long is traveling at a speed of one mile per minute through a tunnel 1-mile long. How long will it take for the train to completely pass through the tunnel?
Solution: It will take 2 minutes. The front of the train takes 1 minute to exit the tunnel, but the back still needs another minute to completely pass through.
Solved by: Eli Nuseiri, Ralphie F., Joey Esses, Family Blum, Sharon K., Big Mike, Carol Dweck, Maurice Tawil, and The Shmulster.
JUNIOR RIDDLE: WHAT AM I?
Submitted by: Audrey H.
Almost everyone needs it, most certainly asks for it, but almost nobody takes it. What am I?
Last Month’s Junior Riddle: Twin Teaser
Two people born on the same day, from the same mother and father, but they are not twins. How is this possible?
Solution: They are part of a set of triplets (or more). They have other siblings born on the same day, which means they are not twins!
Solved by: The Blum Family, Mimi Chehebar, Gabriel Tawil, Rose Elbaz, Sharon K., The Shmulster, Ralphie F., Dave Cohen, and The Big Cheese.
A guy goes into a company for a job interview. The interviewer asks him, “What would you consider to be your biggest weakness?” The guy thinks for a minute and says, “I’m honest with everyone. I don’t know how to be anything other than completely honest, no matter what someone asks me.” The interviewer says, “I don’t really see how honesty could be considered a weakness. In fact, I think it’s a great strength!” The guy looks the interviewer right in the eye and says, “I don’t really care what you think.”
Jake D.
Looking for Work
A lion walks into a police station and asks the policeman at the front desk, “Do you have any job openings?” The policeman shakes his head sadly and says, “No, sorry. Why don’t you try the circus?” The lion gives him a funny look and says, “Why would the circus need a detective?”
Joey S.
Cool Recognition
The three Goldberg brothers, Norman, Hyman, and Maximillian invented and developed the first automobile air-conditioner.
On July 17th, 1946, the temperature in Detroit was 97 degrees Fahrenheit.
The three brothers walked into old man Henry Ford’s office and sweet-talked his secretary into telling him that three gentlemen were there with the most exciting innovation in the auto industry since the electric starter.
Henry was curious and invited them into his office. They refused and instead asked that he come out to the parking lot to their car.
They persuaded him to get into the car, which was about 130 degrees inside, turned on the air-conditioner and cooled the car off immediately.
The old man got very excited and invited them back to the office, where he offered them 3 million dollars for the patent.
The brothers refused saying they would settle for 2 million but they wanted the recognition by having a label, “The Goldberg Air-Conditioner” on the dashboard of each car that it was installed in.
They haggled back and forth for about two hours and finally agreed on 4 million dollars and that just their first names would be shown.
And so, even today, all Ford air-conditioners show on the controls the names: “Norm,” “Hi,” and “Max.”
Isaac S.
Stranded in the Desert
Three men are in the middle of a desert when their car breaks down. For their hike to town, they each decide to take one thing with them. One man takes a jug of water. The second man takes a sandwich. The last man takes one of the car doors. The first man says to the last man, “I’m bringing the water because if I get thirsty, I can take a drink. And it makes sense to bring a sandwich in case we get hungry, but why bring a car door?” The last man replies, “If I get hot, I can just roll down the window.”
Marty A.
No Politics, Please
Four Israelis are sitting in a restaurant in Tel Aviv. For a long time, nobody says a word. Finally, one man groans, “Oy.”
“Oy vey,” says the second man.
“Nu,” says the third.
At this the fourth man gets up from his chair and says, “Listen, if you guys don’t stop talking politics, I’m leaving.”
Esther K.
Play Ball
Many of the schools in the local neighborhood fielded a baseball team, forming the School Baseball League. Beth Israel challenged Beth Tikvah to a game in a week’s time and Principal Goldberg felt that he needed to do something to support his kids. So he gave a special contribution of one hundred dollars to the captain, with the direction that the money should be used to buy bats, balls, gloves, or anything else that might help to win the game.
On the day of the game, the principal was somewhat surprised to observe nothing new in the team’s paraphernalia. He called the captain to him.
“I don’t see any new bats, or balls, or gloves,” he said.
“We don’t have anything like that,” the captain admitted.
“But I gave you one hundred dollars to buy them,” the rabbi exclaimed.
“Well, you see Principal Goldberg,” came the explanation, “you told us to spend it for bats, or balls, or gloves, or anything that we thought might help to win the game, so we gave it to the umpire.”
Ikey F.
Bad Word
A young boy was sitting in the waiting room for a little bit after getting his tooth pulled. The receptionist asked him if he was okay. “Yes, but I didn’t like the bad word the dentist used while he was pulling my tooth.” “What did he say?” asked the receptionist, worried. The boy replied, “Oops.”
Raymond K.
Late for School
A child was late to school for the first time. The teacher asked him if anything was wrong. “No,” the child said, “I wanted to go fishing, but my dad told me I needed to go to school.” The teacher was impressed. “And did your father explain why it was important to go to school instead of going fishing?” The child nodded solemnly and said, “He said it was because there’s not enough bait for both of us.”
Sharon B.
That Special Something
A little old lady gets onto a crowded bus and stands in front of a seated young girl. Holding her hand to her chest, she says to the girl, “If you knew what I have, you would give me your seat.” The girl gets up and gives up her seat to the old lady. It is hot.
The girl then takes out a fan and starts fanning herself. The woman looks up and says, “If you knew what I have, you would give me that fan.” The girl gives her the fan, too.
Fifteen minutes later the woman gets up and says to the bus driver, “Stop, I want to get off here.” The bus driver tells her he has to drop her at the next corner, not in the middle of the block. With
her hand across her chest, she tells the driver, “If you knew what I have, you would let me off the bus right here.”
The bus driver pulls over and opens the door to let her out. As she’s walking out of the bus, he asks, “Madam, what is it you have?” The old woman looks at him and nonchalantly replies, “Chutzpah!”
When it comes to retaining memories, your brain is practically a bottomless storehouse. So why do you sometimes forget things, like what you had for lunch yesterday, or where you placed your keys or homework assignment? This is because your brain was created with two types of memory – short-term memory and long-term memory – and each one is stored in a different place!
For example, if someone gives you a seven-digit telephone number to remember, you store that information in your short-term memory. Most people would forget that kind of thing less than a minute later. Short-term memory is limited in terms of how much information it could store and for how long.
Long-term memory, though, stores information that you remember for a year, ten years, or a lifetime – things like your first day at school, or a special birthday celebration. However, if you practice often enough to remember something that’s in your short-term memory, it could turn into long-term-memory information. That’s why most people remember their nine-digit Social Security number by heart; they’ve written it down or practiced remembering it often enough.
Transferring Memories from Short-Term to Long-Term
The region of the brain that is associated primarily with memory is the hippocampus. The hippocampus is essential for taking information from short-term memory and placing it into long-term memory. Below is a brief summary of how this occurs
1. Short-term memory is located in the front portion of the cerebral cortex of the brain. Information usually remains in this area for only twenty to thirty seconds, if not repeated and rehearsed.
2. If the brain decides to remember something, the information passes from the front portion of the cerebral cortex to the hippocampus, which is located deep inside the brain.
3. From the hippocampus, the memory’s nerve patterns travel to different areas throughout the brain, where they become cemented as long-term memory.
The Gift of Selective Memory
Why do we need memory? Well, without memory, we could not survive. We would not know how to walk or talk or read, or remember where we live. We could not perform any function, for we would not know what we were doing a second before.
But the ability to forget is just as important as the ability to remember! Think about it. Have you ever made a fool of yourself, or been hurt, or upset? Have you ever been insulted, or lost a loved one? Imagine if you would never forget the initial embarrassment, pain, or loss. How would you go on with life? The misery would be there before you, forever.
For this reason, Hashem gives us a gift: far-from-perfect memories. This ensures that the awful things that sometimes happen to us gradually fade, on some level, from our mind.
Brain Power
Exercise stimulates chemical changes in the brain that enhance learning, thinking, and memory skills.
On June 16, 1884, the first roller coaster in America opened at Coney Island, in Brooklyn, New York. It consisted of three wooden hills connected by curved tracks, with a top speed of six miles per hour – nothing like the thrill machines we see today!
Russian Coasters
The earliest roller coasters were large ice-covered slides made of wood.
LaMarcus Thompson
Born in Ohio, Mr. Thompson is widely known as the father of the roller coaster.
Loop-the-Loop
The Loop-the-Loop coaster opened in 1901 at Coney Island. It eventually closed because more people were willing to watch than ride.
Brooklyn Cyclone
The Cyclone, a wooden coaster that made its debut on Coney Island in 1927, is one of the country’s oldest coasters in operation today.
Inventions are the ingenious gadgets and machines that have made our lives a little more fun, interesting, and useful. Real inventions are the things that we did not think were possible yesterday, and yet, it would be difficult to live without today. From the tiny paperclip to the massive jet engine, every month we will explore the history behind our world’s most famous inventions and learn about the innovators who designed them.
This month we explore the history behind one of the most popular amusement park rides…
The ROLLER COASTER
Roller coasters are one of the most popular amusement park rides. The fascinating history of roller coasters began in Russia in the early 1800s, when a wheeled cart was designed to go down an icy track. This prototype proved quite popular, as people lined up for hours to ride on the rails – something no one had ever seen before! From there, roller coasters took off around the globe.
First American Roller Coaster
In 1884, Ohio native LaMarcus Adna Thompson patented the “Switchback Railway,” the first American roller coaster. It made its debut at Coney Island in Brooklyn, New York. The coaster was made of wood and featured a single track with sharp turns and three steep hills. It was designed to run down a hill and then use gravity to propel riders back up the other side.
My son is a devoted father and truly wants the best for his kids. He’s passionate about sports and volunteers as a coach for his 12-year-old son – my grandson – in various leagues. While his intentions are good, I worry that his approach can be too intense. At times, he critiques his son’s performance during or after games, sometimes loudly and in public, which seems to leave my grandson feeling discouraged or embarrassed.
I’ve gently tried to talk to my son about how his words might be affecting his child’s confidence, but he insists he’s just being honest and helping him toughen up. My daughter-in-law shares my concerns but isn’t sure how to intervene effectively either. It’s hard to watch because I know my son loves his family deeply and wants his son to succeed, but I fear this coaching style may be doing more harm than good.
How can we help him see that support and encouragement can go hand in hand with teaching and discipline?
Signed,
Worried Grandma
Dear Grandma,
Someone once asked Rabbi Avigdor Miller, zt”l, if a parent sees his son doing something wrong, is he allowed to yell at him in public. His answer was typical Rabbi Miller. He answered – the father should go over to the son, take his hand in one of his hands, rub his cheek with the other hand and tell him how much he loves him. What about the fact that the child was doing something wrong? No mention. The child just needs to know that his father loves him.
Does that mean that Rabbi Miller is condoning bad behavior? Certainly not – he is suggesting that whatever the father says to the son afterwards is going to be obeyed because the boy knows that it’s coming from a place of love.
Your grandson certainly hasn’t done anything wrong. He just may not excel to the point that his father wants him to. Tell your son, “Shouts short circuits, but HUGS HIT HOMERS.”
If you can say that three times fast, it’s bound to make an impression.
“Imagine encampments spilling into residential neighborhoods, protests outside synagogues, mobs outside schools, and police ordered to do nothing. Under a Mamdani administration, it will not be a question of if these things happen. It will be a question of when.”
Linda Sadacka
From Baghdad to Aleppo, from Cairo to Beirut, from Damascus to Tripoli, Jewish communities once flourished. They created schools and synagogues, vibrant markets, and family homes. They poured everything into neighborhoods they believed would last forever. Yet time and again, when hostile leaders rose to power and law enforcement looked the other way, those communities vanished. Families were uprooted, businesses destroyed, lives shattered.
In New York, many believed it could never happen here. They said America was different, safe, permanent. Yet history warns us that it can happen anywhere. Today, with Zohran Mamdani, a self-proclaimed radical and candidate of the Democratic Socialists of America, leading in the mayoral race, those echoes are becoming frighteningly familiar.
Who Is Zohran Mamdani?
Zohran Mamdani is not a mainstream politician. He is a radical whose public record should alarm every New Yorker.
He defended the slogan “Globalize the Intifada,” a phrase embraced by extremists as a call to spread violence against Jews beyond the Middle East. Despite criticism, he attempted to sanitize the phrase, even as respected institutions condemned it as dangerous. He declined to denounce DSA’s anti-Zionist resolutions and instead doubled down, claiming he is accountable only to “the people.” He has also stated, “If you win an election, you go ahead and implement the platform, even if you do not have a majority mandate.” That is a promise to impose an ideology regardless of public consent.
He has said, “Billionaires should not exist,” adopting rhetoric that directly targets Jewish values of enterprise, ownership, and family legacy. He stood alongside Bernie Sanders at rallies against “oligarchy,” calling for rent freezes, free buses, and punitive taxes on the businesses and families that fuel New York’s economy.
Mamdani’s platform includes dismantling capitalism and abolishing landlords, which many see as a direct attack on the Jewish community that has long relied on property ownership to provide stability and continuity for families. He advocates slashing police budgets, empowering radical protest movements, and normalizing reckless policies that weaken law and order. He has spoken about creating a borderless America, a vision that would overwhelm already fragile city resources.
These are not quiet opinions. They are public declarations, proudly and unapologetically defended.
The Danger of a Mayor Mamdani
History already showed us what happens when a mayor refuses to protect his city. Under David Dinkins, New York witnessed the Crown Heights riots. For three painful days, mobs targeted Jews while police were ordered to stand down. The result was violence, destruction, and death.
Now imagine a mayor who is not merely hesitant, but ideologically committed to siding with radicals. Imagine encampments spilling into residential neighborhoods, protests outside synagogues, mobs outside schools, and police ordered to do nothing. Under a Mamdani administration, it will not be a question of if these things happen. It will be a question of when.
When that day comes, the NYPD will have no choice but to obey the mayor’s orders. That is the power of the office. That is why this election matters more than any other in recent memory.
What We Stand to Lose
Our community has invested generations of work into this city. We have built schools, synagogues, and community centers that serve tens of thousands of families. We have supported businesses that drive New York’s economy. We have turned entire neighborhoods into sanctuaries for Jewish life.
All of that is now at risk.
Families are already whispering questions at Shabbat tables and community events. What will we do if he wins? Do we leave? Do we uproot everything? The fear is real, and it is growing. People understand what is at stake: safety, security, and the very survival of our way of life in New York.
It is not just activists raising the alarm. The rabbinic leadership of our community has spoken with one voice, issuing a letter that removes any doubt about the urgency of this moment. In their words:
“Every eligible member of our community must vote. This is not about politics. It is about our sacred duty to our families, to our schools, to our yeshivot, to our synagogues, and to our way of
life. Voting is not merely a right. It is a halachic and moral responsibility. We cannot afford silence. We cannot afford apathy. This is not optional. It is a mitzvah, a communal obligation, like tefillah, like tzedakah, like educating our children.”
When every rabbi of the Syrian-Sephardic community of New York and New Jersey signs a letter like this, it is not rhetoric. It is a clarion call. They are telling us plainly: our future, and the future of our children, will be decided by what we do in this election.
A Shadow of Privilege
For someone who rails against privilege, Mamdani’s background tells another story.
His mother, filmmaker Mira Nair, has enjoyed generous Qatari patronage. Qatar’s ruling family financed her 2012 film The Reluctant Fundamentalist, supported her Maisha Film Labs, and paid for a lavish adaptation of Monsoon Wedding during the World Cup. These were not token cultural gestures. They were major investments from a regime that uses money as political leverage.
Why does this matter? Because Qatar is not a benign patron of the arts. It is the single largest financier of Hamas. It bankrolls extremist clerics, shelters terror leaders, and pours billions into propaganda networks that delegitimize Israel. When Qatar invests, it is never charity. It is strategy.
So while Mamdani preaches about justice and rails against “privilege,” his family has benefited from the largesse of a regime that enables the very terror groups murdering Jews in Israel. That contradiction is not nuance. It is a red flag.
The Awakening
And yet, thank Gd, something extraordinary is happening.
For too long, good people avoided politics. That era is ending. Schools are now telling parents: you cannot register your child unless you are registered to vote. Synagogues and community centers are requiring voter registration for participation. Even singles events are saying: no registration, no entry.
This is nothing short of historic. For the first time, our community understands that survival depends on civic engagement.
But registration is only the beginning. It is not enough to sign a form. We must vote. We must show up on Election Day and make our voices heard. Otherwise, all this newfound effort will mean nothing.
Years of Warnings
As an activist, I have been saying this for years. I have written, spoken, pleaded, and urged action. I said it when people rolled their eyes. I said it when people insisted politics would never touch us.
Now, at last, the community is mobilizing. Volunteers are registering voters outside stores, in schools, and even at social gatherings. Their work is extraordinary and deserves recognition. But it should not have taken fear to push people into action.
The past is behind us. What matters is what we do now.
A Community on the Move
The energy is real. Families are recognizing the stakes. Institutions are demanding accountability. Volunteers are carrying clipboards and voter forms because they know our survival depends on it.
Beginnings matter only if they lead to results. Registration is the first step; turnout is the test. The ballot box is where this awakening must be proven.
Politics does not reward intentions; it rewards action. The radicals know this, which is why they always show up. If we match our convictions with ballots, we will decide the future of this city. If we stay home, others will decide for us, and the outcome will be one we cannot accept.
The choice is clear, the responsibility is ours, and this time no one will be able to say they were not warned.
