For more than two years after the Oct. 7 attacks, our communal focus has rightly centered on the sustained surge of Jewish students seeking connection, safety and belonging. Across campuses, young Jews are searching for community, meaning and support as they navigate rising antisemitism and a rapidly shifting Jewish identity landscape.

But alongside this visible student awakening, another, quieter surge is taking place — one among Jewish professionals.

Across law, finance, tech, medicine, business and education, Jewish professionals are reexamining long-held definitions of success and purpose. Many are leaving established careers to bring their skills, leadership and experience into the Jewish nonprofit and communal world. I am one of them.

For nearly two decades, I built a successful career as a litigation attorney. Like many in my generation, I followed a familiar path: excel academically, attend a top graduate program, secure a prestigious position and work tirelessly toward professional achievement. Success and fulfillment were assumed to be intertwined. If I worked hard enough and achieved enough, happiness would follow.

Yet over time, I began to feel a growing disconnect. Despite professional milestones and intellectual challenge, something was missing. The work was stimulating, but it lacked meaning. I realized that success without purpose, no matter how polished it appears from the outside, leaves a quiet but persistent emptiness.

That realization deepened as I watched a troubling pattern unfold among my peers. Many of us had once been deeply engaged in Jewish life, whether during our bar and bat mitzvah years, through Hillel in college or on transformative experiences like Birthright. But as law school, careers and family life accelerated, those connections slowly faded. Jewish identity became something remembered, not lived. What once felt central became peripheral.

Graduate school is a formative stage of identity development. It is a period when values, professional identity and community affiliation crystallize. Without intentional opportunities for Jewish engagement, many students drift away not out of rejection but out of exhaustion, isolation and lack of access. Over time, that distance calcifies, and what begins as temporary disconnection can become permanent disengagement.

For years, this awareness lingered in the background for me, but after Oct. 7, 2023, and the surge in antisemitism that followed, it transformed into urgency. The moment demanded more than reflection; it demanded action.

That call led me to the Jewish Graduate Organization, a national nonprofit dedicated exclusively to supporting Jewish graduate students. JGO fills a critical gap in the Jewish ecosystem by meeting students precisely when they are forming their adult identities, careers and communal commitments. Through campus support,  leadership development, advocacy and community-building, JGO helps students navigate increasingly hostile environments while strengthening Jewish connection and resilience.

This mission resonated deeply with me because I had lived its absence. In law school, our Jewish Law Students Association gathered once a month for pizza and swapped exam outlines. That was the extent of our Jewish engagement. There was no leadership development, no mentorship, no exploration of Jewish values in professional life, no sense of belonging. JGO offers what so many of us never had and desperately needed.

Leaving the legal world was not an easy decision. I stepped away from financial security, professional prestige and a familiar identity. Friends, colleagues and mentors questioned my choice. Why leave a successful career for the uncertainty of nonprofit leadership?

The answer was simple: purpose.

And I quickly realized I was not alone.

In recent months, I have spoken with Jewish professionals across industries who are making similar choices. Some are entering nonprofit leadership. Others are serving on boards, launching initiatives, mentoring students or shifting their philanthropic priorities. Many describe the same internal reckoning: a realization that this moment in Jewish history requires more than professional success. It requires contribution.

We often speak about a surge of Jewish students seeking community, but we must also recognize the parallel surge of Jewish professionals redirecting their talents toward Jewish life. This is not a coincidence. It is a response to crisis, renewed Jewish identity and moral clarity.

The Oct. 7 attacks and their aftermath shattered assumptions of safety and belonging for Jews worldwide and forced many to confront fundamental questions: Who am I? What do I stand for? Where do I belong? For professionals who had long compartmentalized Jewish identity from career, those walls collapsed. Many discovered that the work they once considered meaningful no longer felt sufficient.

This professional surge represents an extraordinary opportunity for the Jewish nonprofit sector. We’re at a moment that calls not only for reflection but for intentional action as well. 

Jewish nonprofits, boards and funders must actively create clear, welcoming pathways for professionals to enter, lead and thrive in communal work. That means investing in leadership pipelines, mentorship, onboarding and competitive compensation and reimagining what Jewish leadership can look like. If we fail to build these on-ramps, we risk losing one of the greatest reservoirs of talent our community has seen in a generation. 

At a time when Jewish nonprofits face rising demand, shrinking resources and growing complexity, this infusion of professional talent is not merely helpful. It is essential.

Jewish organizations need sophisticated leadership, operational excellence, strategic thinking and financial stewardship. Lawyers bring governance and advocacy expertise. Business leaders contribute operational rigor and growth strategy. Entrepreneurs bring innovation and scale. Yet we cannot assume this talent will automatically integrate into communal work. 

Nonprofits must build intentional pathways for professional entry, leadership development and retention. Funders must invest not only in programs, but in people. Boards must embrace new leadership models that value professional .ish leadership pipelines. If we fail to cultivate and sustain this professional awakening, we risk losing one of the most powerful engines of communal renewal in a generation.

My own transition has been deeply affirming. For the first time, my professional skills and my Jewish values are fully aligned. The advocacy I once practiced in courtrooms now supports Jewish students facing harassment and discrimination. The strategic thinking I honed while advising corporations now strengthens programs that nurture Jewish identity and leadership.

Perhaps most importantly, this shift has reshaped the legacy I am building for my children. They are watching me choose purpose over prestige, service over status, community over comfort. In doing so, I hope to teach them that success is measured not by titles or income, but by contribution and impact.

Judaism teaches that each person has a tafkid, a unique role to fulfill in the world. For many Jewish professionals, that calling is emerging with new clarity at this moment. We are needed as builders, protectors, educators, advocates and visionaries. Our community cannot thrive without the full engagement of its professional class.

Just as we urge Jewish students to bring their full identities into communal spaces, we must challenge Jewish professionals to do the same. The future of Jewish life depends not only on inspiring the next generation, but on mobilizing the current one.

This is a moment of reckoning, but also of possibility. If we harness this dual surge of students and professionals, we can build a Jewish ecosystem that is more resilient, inclusive and vibrant than ever before.

The question before us is simple: Will we answer the call?

Jamie Kleinman is the director of executive leadership at the Jewish Graduate Organization. After nearly two decades as a litigation attorney in Los Angeles, she transitioned into Jewish nonprofit leadership to help strengthen Jewish identity, belonging and leadership.