“Mishenikhnas Adar, marbin besimha. From when [the month of] Adar enters, we increase in joy.” — Talmud Bavli, Taanit 29a

We are now in the Hebrew calendar month of Adar. (Actually ending the first of two because it’s a leap year, but that’s another story.) Rabbinic tradition teaches us that in this month, which includes the festive holiday of Purim, we are called to increase our joy. 

This idea is not quite a commandment, but rather a charge, an intention, and a goal. In many ways, this call to action makes sense given its alignment with the themes of the major holiday that coincides with the month. And yet, some years, like this one, this charge feels more challenging to heed.

Last January, my family was faced with an unthinkable and life changing challenge after my father experienced a massive brain bleed out of the blue. We spent nearly all of 2023 caring for him, and while he made some progress, he never fully recovered, and we lost him on October 5, 2023–right in the midst of another meant-to-be joyous season in our calendar: the holiday of Sukkot. And then, on October 7th, that personal grief journey was compounded by a collective communal grief journey — one that I often feel eclipsed by as I try to find comfort and camaraderie for this sad path I find myself walking along. 

There is no doubt that this chapter in Jewish history and in the narrative of our sector is a challenging and dark one. It also sadly isn’t the first, and I don’t imagine it will be the last. As I ask myself how I could possibly heed a call to joy in my first year as a mourner, being reminded of this fact helps me shift the question towards one I hope might provide me — and perhaps others — some insights and a way forward. How might we allow for greater perspective into joy specifically when it’s hard to notice?

Jewish time is full of moments that call upon us to act in accordance with the notion of elu v’elu, these and those, or both-and. Nearly all joyous occasions require us to note in some way the brokenness of our world, the challenges of the journeys that led to those moments, or simply a recognition of those who aren’t with us physically to mark the moment. And similarly, somber moments aren’t void of themes of gratitude, hope, and even some degree of celebration for the gifts that life has to offer us. So too, in this dark moment, can more than one thing be true. And the charge is therefore an invitation to notice and put it into greater focus. We have the opportunity not to change the picture, but shift or at least widen our perspective on it, even if only for a period of time. 

But what might acting in alignment with this intention actually look like? I love an old adage I learned that says “to Jew is to do,” reminding me that thoughts, feelings, mindsets, and even beliefs alone aren’t what constitute a Jewish life. To live Jewishly is to act Jewishly, and to seek an almost chiropractic way of living — searching for and working towards greater alignment between the essence of the heart and mind, and the substance of our actions and behaviors. How can we act in a way that demonstrates increased joy, even and especially in a less than joyous chapter?

In college at UC Berkeley, I took a class on the science of happiness to fulfill a requirement for an upper division psychology course I needed. In a world where, certainly at the time, the field of psychology was focused on what was wrong or dysfunctional, it was countercultural and rare to have any significant research or focus on positive psychology and the ways that people create and maintain strong mental health proactively. (Now there is a full department, The Greater Good Science Center, dedicated to positive psychology with plenty of resources.) In this course I learned about the power of gratitude to generate and sustain feelings of happiness and joy. Research showed that acts of gratitude, not necessarily just thoughts, were much more impactful in shifting people’s perspectives towards greater happiness and enhancing their experience of joy. This impact could also be felt through acts of kindness and giving.

Themes of gratitude are abundant in Jewish wisdom and tradition, and for some people, a practice of gratitude is built into their routines through prayer and rituals of giving. For others of us, there is room to create or increase the number of ways and the frequency with which we act with gratitude, and doing so might give us a way to live into the call for greater joy in a way that can coexist with the complex feelings of this moment.

Actions of gratitude are not only powerful personally and interpersonally, but also at work — the place a majority of us spend the most and best of our waking hours. The working world has been navigating many challenges over the last few years in particular, and our sector has had to navigate those challenges in addition to our own. 

Our teams are working so hard to ensure the vitality of Jewish life across a robust and diverse set of communal needs and experiences. And while not everything at work (or in life) will always be enjoyable, our research shows that enjoying your job not only matters to workers themselves, but is also a key driver of employee engagement and retention, making it all the more important to focus on in this moment. Many of the top engagement and retention drivers from our research suggest key places to focus on, especially if and as we try to live into the charge that the month of Adar presents us.

This month, let’s commit to actions of gratitude and giving that help us sustain healthy workplace cultures, and increase and put into focus some of the joy and fulfillment that is both so necessary to sustain us and so hard to access in this moment. 

Below are a few brief ideas for enacting gratitude in your organization to bring some joy into Adar, even at a painful time.

Doing Gratitude and Joy, Feeling Grief: Purim During Personal and Communal Mourning

In Tractate Megillah, Reish Lakish teaches that God doesn’t afflict the Jewish people without first creating a remedy. That idea doesn’t justify bad things happening. But when we face complex challenges, we might already have helpful insights within and around us.

Like the entire Jewish nonprofit field, Jewish day schools have a gender equity problem. But they also have a vital piece of the solution.

This problem manifests most measurably in salary data, where men are generally paid more than women for similar roles. When it comes to school leaders’ genders, we don’t have precise data, but we know that women and people who are transgender, nonbinary, and gender nonconforming are significantly underrepresented.

This isn’t unique to day schools. As Leading Edge reported, out of 376 Jewish nonprofits surveyed between 2016 and 2021, 55% were led by men, 45% by women, and none by anyone openly trans or nonbinary. Among organizations with the highest budgets, 92% were led by men.

This issue matters for schools - for students now, and for our future later. It matters if the people making key decisions don’t adequately represent the entire Jewish community. It matters if students who aren’t male, and/or aren’t white, and/or aren’t cisgender, don’t see themselves reflected in the identities of their principal, head of school, or rosh yeshiva. That impacts how hard students try and, more importantly, who they feel they can become.

But day schools also uniquely have the opportunity to widen the leadership pipeline.

As an alum, I credit Jewish day school for deepening my Jewish literacy and helping me cultivate a clear and confident leadership voice. I was chosen to sing and lead holiday celebrations, pushed academically in Jewish and secular subjects, and recognized for my leadership in classrooms and in sports. I know what it feels like to be seen and noticed for my talents, challenged to reach my fullest potential, and encouraged to speak up about my and others’ needs. I benefited tremendously from role models of all genders who nurtured my growth and magnified my view of my power, while modeling the centrality of humility and constant learning in effective leadership.  

And yet, not all of me was seen or noticed. As a Jewish Woman of Color, I only saw part of myself represented in leadership (though rarely at the highest ranks), and I missed an opportunity to develop an integrated and holistic sense of self that values all parts of my identity rather than solely prioritizing one. I know day schools, like many Jewish institutions, have more work to do.

Today, day schools might be missing an opportunity to help students develop character in ways that advance gender equity and equity more broadly - but that’s within our capacity to change. Day schools already know how to weave values and middot (character traits) into everything from curriculum to lunch menus, from classrooms to tetherball courts. We have an opportunity to make gender equity, along with other kinds of equity and inclusion, part of, and central to, visions of character development. 

Leading Edge identified “keystones” for gender equity progress, including developing DEI talent strategies, shifting perceptions around leadership and caregiving, and the importance of men speaking up around gender inequity. These factors can absolutely inform how we educate tomorrow’s heads of school while they’re children today.

Whose stories are we telling? What images depict our ancestors? Surely the Israelites in the desert looked more like me than we typically see illustrated. In my day school, there were many Persian Jews in the student body. Yet we rarely learned anything about Persian Jewish culture or history. What might it look like for all students to see themselves represented in what they are learning about who we are as a people? What might it look like for all students to see what our community really looks like regardless of whether or not that diversity is present in their immediate class?

Who do we hold up as heroes - present or past? Is it always men? There are many women, People of Color, and people of various gender identities—both historical and contemporary—whose stories belong in our canon of exemplary Jews.

When we do showcase men, what behavior do we elevate? Are we exemplifying male allyship, showing men leading in ways that name injustice and courageously and humbly make space for others to shine? Is being an advocate for equity part of our vision for what it means to be a “mensch”? A strong leader? A proud Jew?

IS OUR MENTORSHIP AND LEADERSHOP DEVELOPMENT INCLUSIVE? 

School is often students’ first exploration of leadership, whether in student council, a club or a project. Are teachers and administrators aware of who is—and isn’t—being encouraged, mentored and developed for leadership? I am incredibly grateful that my potential was seen and cultivated, that my voice was amplified, and that my leadership was prioritized. All students deserve to feel empowered and invested in - to know that their skills and talents are a gift, and that the community is incomplete without their perspective. This point also extends to teachers: Is the teacher pool diverse? Are there inclusive development pathways and mentorship opportunities for teachers of every identity to advance toward becoming school leaders?

DO WE MODEL LEADERSHIP COINCIDING WITH CAREGIVING?

Countless educators balance caregiving with their careers, but are they talking about it? Do heads of school in particular, who are major examples of leadership for students, showing the time and energy they put into family and caregiving roles alongside their careers? Do we talk to students of all genders about caregiving being part of their future, or only some of them?

These questions are just starting points for longer processes of reflection and change. Progress isn’t solely possible on the timescale of generations. There are things day schools can do today to advance gender equity. And as a proud day school alum myself, I hope this movement will take the opportunity to see generational change as something they are uniquely positioned to lead. If they succeed, the whole Jewish community will reap the benefits.

Writing for Prizmah: Center for Jewish Day Schools, Leading Edge's Director of Special Projects, Danielle Natelson, discusses why when it comes to gender equity in leadership, Jewish day schools have a problem—but also a vital piece of the solution.

Problems, Solutions, and Generations | Danielle Natelson, Leading Edge

Danielle Natelson (she/her) is Director, Programs at Leading Edge. Most recently she served as the Director of the Springboard Fellowship at Hillel International, the largest early career development program in the Jewish community. 

Danielle has spent over a decade working at the intersection of leadership and learning across the Jewish communal landscape, ranging from college students, to entrepreneurs and Jewish communal professionals. As a proud Jew of Color she has advanced diversity, equity, and inclusion across the Jewish community. While at UpStart, she designed and piloted the Jews of Color Career Development Program in partnership with the Jews of Color Initiative to catalyze a more diverse and representative leadership pipeline.

Danielle’s passion for music and Israeli dance has helped her enrich numerous Jewish communities through the arts. A lifelong learner and a cohort program enthusiast, Danielle is a proud UC Berkeley alum where she now sits on the Hillel board, and is a member of the fifth class of the Wexner Field Fellowship. 

Director, Programs

Danielle Natelson

Danielle Natelson is Director of Programs at Leading Edge.