Bnei Akiva is tucked into the very folds of my DNA. It is a mosaic of late-night conversations, lifelong friendships, and a value system that helped bridge the gap between who I was and the person I am proud to be today.

So, I want to start this letter with a “thank you.”

Thank you for the all-nighters where the air felt thick with possibility. Thank you for providing a space where I felt I belonged—where wanting to learn Torah in chevruta didn’t make me a “nerd,” but rather someone who found an eager circle of peers. Thank you for the “bribes” of hot chocolate that made waking up for a dvar Torah feel like the height of cool.

You taught me that spirituality isn’t just a ledger of halacha; it is a full-bodied experience. It’s the roar of Shabbat songs, the sting of tears during a Tisha B’Av candlelit walk, and the adrenaline of a color war slogan. The sheer volume of ideology, shlichut, and love poured into a Bnei Akiva summer camp is phenomenal, and I will always hold an utmost appreciation for the leaders and madrichim who made it happen.

You gave me the room to lead, to fail, and to navigate the messy emotions of leadership in a setting that allowed for trial and error.  And lets be honest, there was so much error! Thankfully, you also taught me to ask questions, and to be curious. But it is because of that very curiosity that I have to file a complaint.

Tell me: are you still leaving out the basics?

Growing up in the movement, the importance of aliyah was paramount. I felt celebrated for my Hebrew, for my heart being “in the East.” We were taught about the return to our ancestral homeland, and we opened our arms to anyone making that journey. I thought I “got” it.

Yet, we never spoke about the others who happen to live in that same space. We never learned about Arabs or Palestinians, or their........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)