Strong always

Am Yisrael Chai. Always.

Four whirlwind days in Israel changed so much: my understanding of this moment, my vision for our students and my sense of what it means to lead a Jewish day school today. I returned home with something far more profound than jet lag or a suitcase full of notes. I came home with a strengthened conviction that Am Yisrael not only lives, but thrives, even in the shadow of unimaginable loss. Our people continue to choose courage, connection and life itself.

This journey was made possible by the Community Day School board, the Jewish Federation of Greater Pittsburgh, Partnership2Gether, the Jewish Agency for Israel, and the visionary leadership of Kim Saltzman and Noa Epstein Friedman. I am deeply grateful, not only for the opportunity to witness their work firsthand, but for the honor of carrying back the sacred responsibility of sharing what I learned.

From the moment we arrived, it was clear that this was not a typical visit. We were welcomed into rooms where decisions are made in real time for schools and communities living under the weight of anxiety and memory. We met regional education leaders whose commitment keeps schools in Karmiel and Misgav open, stable and connected to families despite ongoing trauma and the ever-present echoes of sirens. They spoke not in grand statements, but in the determined language of educators everywhere: How do we help our children feel safe? How do we give them a future they can believe in?

At every stop, we encountered the true spirit of a Karmieli, a person rooted in this breathtaking land, shaped by its challenges and defined by a deep sense of responsibility for others. It is not a slogan or a motto. It is a way of being. It is resilience translated into action.

At Pisgot High School, we walked the hallways like any visitors would, until the walls themselves transformed into a memorial. Portraits of graduates murdered at Nova or fallen in Gaza lined the corridors. One frame was heartbreakingly empty. The student killed in the war has a younger brother, and the family asked to wait. They want his picture to go on the wall only after his brother graduates, so the siblings will hang together. The absence, the silence of that empty space, said everything words could not.

At Lavon Elementary, we saw the insistence on preserving childhood. Children programmed robots with curiosity and confidence. They created intricate miniature artworks with tiny brushes and giant imaginations. They burst into song, singing Ad HaSof, until the end, a joyful declaration that they will keep living, keep laughing, keep building a future that terror cannot
touch.

At the Absorption Center, Selah students, newly arrived teens from around the world, spoke candidly about the antisemitism that pushed them to leave home. They shared their hopes for belonging, for safety, for a future where they can simply be who they are: Jewish kids growing into Jewish adults with dreams that reach far beyond fear.

And then there was the Children’s Village, where we met Mali. She is a devoted house mother caring for 12 children removed from their homes. The table was set with care: fresh cookies warm from the oven, next to a meticulously organized chart tracking each child’s appointments, chores and after-school activities. Her love was not loud. It was not showy. It was steady, and it filled the room. These children, who have endured too much, have someone who wakes up every morning and says: You matter. You belong. I am here.

At United Hatzalah, volunteer medics described rushing into danger to save lives — Israelis and Arabs, strangers and neighbors. Whoever needs help. Their stories revealed not only the trauma they witness, but the unshakeable belief that every human life is priceless.

These are not symbolic partnerships. These are real relationships with real people, the ones our students and the broader
Jewish Pittsburgh community deserve to know. For decades, Pittsburgh and Karmiel Misgav have been intertwined through acts of kindness, shared resilience and a commitment to Jewish continuity that spans oceans and time zones. But this moment demands even deeper connection.

That is why this spring, our CDS eighth graders will travel to Karmiel and Misgav for a mifgash that is not a field trip and not tourism. It is a hand to hand, heart to heart encounter with peers whose lives are shaped by the same Jewish story yet lived with a different urgency. Our students will sit in their classrooms, hear their hopes, see their courage and recognize themselves in the faces of teenagers who are their family across the sea. This journey will give them something no curriculum ever could: the understanding that being part of the Jewish people is not theoretical. It is real and it is theirs to inherit, protect and proudly lead into the future.

I left Israel with a heart that felt heavier and fuller at the same time. Heavier with the grief of what has been lost. Fuller with the pride of who we are and the hope of what we will build together.

And now I return to CDS determined to lead with deeper purpose. To ensure our students know not only the anguish of
our story, but the light that refuses to go out. To help them see that their Jewish future is not inherited by accident, but carried forward with strength, love, and responsibility.

We will rise to meet this moment. We will build. We will teach. We will love louder than those who seek to silence us.
Because the miracle of our people is not only that we survive. It is that we bring more life into the world.

Am Yisrael Chai. Always. PJC

Casey Weiss is head of school at Community Day School.