Barry Finestone recently reminded us that while antisemitism may be the world’s oldest hatred, our response shouldn’t be rooted in fear but in pride (“You can’t solve antisemitism. But you can raise a generation of vibrant, proud young Jews,” April 7). He’s correct when he writes that we cannot bucket our way out of a tsunami; that we must build an ark.

The flood came on Oct. 7, and for many in our community that ark didn’t yet exist. But for those who had already begun the work of building — with intention, a sense of identity, and a focus on investment in the next generation — the question now is: Will we keep building, together?

We need a new model of Jewish resilience. Not solely reactive, but proactive. Not just defensive, but visionary. We must raise young Jews who walk through the world with their heads high, proud of who they are, connected to Israel and grounded in a sense of collective responsibility. This isn’t just a cultural aspiration. It’s a communal necessity. We’ve seen what this looks like in action. In the first days after Oct. 7, Israeli-Americans — many of them young professionals and students — mobilized faster than anyone. They used their business networks and signature Israeli chutzpah to ship critical supplies to Israel. They showed up on campus and in the streets, not waiting for permission to act, but leading with confidence and clarity. They understood that Jewish pride isn’t just a feeling — it’s a tool of resilience and strength.

This kind of leadership doesn’t happen by accident. It’s the result of long-term investment — by families, synagogues, schools and organizations that treat identity-building not as enrichment, but as strategy. One model is that of the Israeli-American Council (IAC), which has spent the past 18 years cultivating a generation of young leaders through programs like Eitanim, Act and Impact and college fellowships. When the moment came, these alumni weren’t asking what to do — they were already doing it. And there are others too. We saw similar courage from high schoolers supported in day schools, from campus activists trained by a range of organizations, and from parents who organized rallies in collaboration with multiple Jewish institutions. Where community infrastructure existed, young Jews stepped into leadership. Where it didn’t, they faltered — or felt alone. 

This is our moment of reckoning. Are we content with temporary responses, or are we ready to strengthen what’s already working and build on it? Do we want to merely protect our youth, or to truly empower them?

If we want to see proud Jews in the streets, on social media and in boardrooms, we need to nurture that pride long before crisis hits. We need to fund the programs that work, support leaders who lead with love and design spaces that center belonging. We need to stop asking whether young Jews care — and start asking whether we’ve given them enough reason to.

The ark is not just one organization. It’s a mindset. A movement. A commitment to raising Jews who don’t just survive hatred, but transcend it with courage, joy and purpose.

Let’s stop reacting. Let’s keep building — stronger, deeper, and together.

Aya Shechter is the chief programming officer of the Israeli-American Council (IAC).