For several months, my Monday mornings have begun with a Zoom call to Israel. On the other side of the screen is Adi Oz, the CEO of the Hope Center. We begin with the “logistics of life,” the check-in that has become a staple of Israeli-Diaspora relations. But as a career executive, I have learned to look past the surface of a status report. In the cadence of Adi’s voice, I don’t just see a CEO; I see the embodiment of the Israeli nonprofits under an unimaginable load.

Adi leads an organization on the front lines of human dignity, supporting survivors of sex trafficking as they rebuild their lives. Her work requires a rare alchemy of courage and steadiness. Over time, the nature of our meetings began to change. I was no longer there simply to hear updates; I was there as a mentor.

These sessions have reinforced a conviction I have carried throughout my career: In times of prolonged crisis, the most vulnerable part of any organization is not its funding or its programming. It is the person at the helm. 

The myth of the solitary leader

There is a persistent myth in the nonprofit world that leadership is a solitary act of will. We often imagine executives as lone figures making choices in a vacuum. Too often, leaders internalize this, leading to unnecessary isolation. 

Jewish tradition teaches us differently. Moses did not lead the Exodus alone; he was flanked by the diplomacy of Aaron and the spirit of Miriam. When Jethro observed Moses’ exhaustion, his advice was not to work harder but to build a structure of shared responsibility. Our intellectual heritage is built on the chavruta, the pair; we believe wisdom is found in the friction between two minds wrestling with the same truth.

As a volunteer mentor in the Amitim Leadership Initiative, a Global Jewry program connecting senior Israeli CEOs with executive mentors from the Diaspora, I am witnessing the ancient Jewish idea of pairs applied to modern management. The principle of partnership reminds us that leadership should not happen in isolation. When leaders are given a dedicated space for reflection and honest strategic thinking, we are not merely supporting the individual at the top, we are fortifying the mission itself.

As I sit with Adi, I am acutely aware of my responsibility as a mentor. This role requires more than empathy; it calls for the application of hard-earned experience in governance, strategy and organizational growth. Our meetings are not casual conversations. They are working sessions where we refine strategy and ask the difficult questions that lead to clarity. Together, we create a trusted space where Adi can test ideas and acknowledge uncertainties before returning to her team with renewed focus.

In North America, we often relate to Israel through the lens of philanthropy and programming, writing checks to close funding gaps or organizing missions to deepen connection. This support is vital: it is the “hardware” of partnership. 

But I increasingly believe that executive mentorship is the “software” of Israeli resilience.

Across Israel’s civil society, leaders are supporting vulnerable populations while helping their own teams navigate prolonged trauma. If those leaders reach the point of exhaustion, even the best-funded programs will falter. Strengthening a leader’s strategic capacity is therefore not an auxiliary investment; it is an investment in the endurance of the entire social fabric.

The leadership multiplier

In my professional life, I think constantly about operational courage and infrastructure. We often imagine infrastructure as buildings or endowments, but the executive leader is the ultimate “multiplier.” When a leader grows stronger, the organization’s culture stabilizes. When the organization stabilizes, the community it serves becomes more resilient. Supporting leadership development is not “overhead”; it is core mission work for the entire Jewish world.

The past few years have demanded extraordinary resilience from Israel’s social sector. Leadership fatigue is not a personal failure; it is a systemic risk. By showing up as a mentor, I am helping to mitigate that risk. This exchange is mutual. I gain a granular understanding of the Israeli landscape, and in return, I offer the perspective of a peer who has stewarded organizations at scale. It is this reciprocity, this meeting of experience and insight, that is the true strength of Jewish Peoplehood.

By investing in mentorship, we move away from the donor-recipient model toward a model of executive partnership. Our most valuable contribution is not just our capital, but our collective experience in governance and scale.

Supporting Israel is about more than responding to threats; it is about investing in the people who allow society to flourish long-term. For those of us in the North American Jewish professional space, this moment invites us to expand our definition of solidarity. We must continue to mobilize in urgency, but we must also step into the role of the steady, present partner.

Jewish history teaches us that institutions endure when leadership is cultivated intentionally across generations. My conversations with Adi remind me that leadership is not about control; it is about the sacred, shared responsibility we have toward one another. Leadership at all levels is stronger when it’s not isolated.  

Orit Mizner has more than two decades of experience helping mission-driven organizations translate vision into sustainable growth and measurable impact, combining big-picture thinking with disciplined execution. Mizner currently serves as COO of Momentum and previously held senior roles at itrek, the Israeli American Council and the Israel Innovation Institute; she also served three times as a Jewish Agency shlicha (emissary), bringing deep experience across global Jewish organizations and innovation ecosystems.