Unapologetically Jewish: What Herzl Camp Was Built For

(A precursor to this article: I went a little heavier than normal, but if you’re a follower of Herzl’s Ted Talk…you know that there is plenty of fun on the short horizon!)

A couple of weeks ago, we marked Theodor Herzl’s birthday – a meaningful celebration of our namesake. You may have seen it noted, or maybe not – after all, Herzl’s legacy doesn’t exactly light up Instagram feeds. But I remembered. And I found myself scrolling through my podcast queue looking for something to mark the moment. I landed on an episode of Ask Haviv Anything – the one where Haviv Rettig Gur digs deep into Herzl’s early life and the inner turmoil that shaped his Zionist vision.

The part that hit me hardest – again – was the internalized shame that so many Jews carried in Herzl’s time. They weren’t just hiding their Judaism from others. They were hiding it from themselves. The weight of antisemitism didn’t just come from the outside. It seeped in. That resonated with me more than I’d like to admit.

I’ve felt it. I’ve seen it. And lately, it’s been everywhere.

This past year, I’ve watched kids – our kids – tuck their Magen David necklaces into their shirts. Say they’re going to “camp,” not “Jewish camp.” Tell their classmates they’ve got a “student event,” not “Hillel.” I’ve felt the hesitation in my own voice when I say I run a Jewish summer camp. Not because I’m ashamed – but because the world feels scarier lately, and I know I’m not the only one who feels it.

So I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to build Jewish pride. And what it means to do it on purpose.

Dan Senor, in his recent speech at the 92nd Street Y (which you can hear in full on his Call Me Back podcast), called this moment what it is: a time for unapologetic Jewish identity. He said we need to stand tall, stand proud, and wrap our Jewishness in Teflon – not because we’re blind to the risks, but because the risks are exactly why we can’t retreat.

He talked about summer camp – yes, summer camp – as one of the few places left where Jewish pride is planted, nurtured, and allowed to grow strong. He’s right. At Herzl Camp, we don’t just tolerate Jewish identity. We celebrate it. We dance with it. We eat it for breakfast and sing it before bed. And we do it all in the name of a guy whose whole life was about turning Jewish doubt into Jewish destiny.

This summer, we’ll welcome campers from across the country – and from across the ocean. We’ll wrap them in ruach and Hebrew and a whole lot of bug spray. And what we’ll really be doing, every single day, is building Jews who won’t whisper when someone asks who they are. Who won’t hide their necklaces. Who won’t apologize for being Jewish.

Because Jewish pride isn’t just a slogan. It’s armor. And joy. And responsibility. We owe that to Herzl. We owe it to Dan Senor and the heavy-lifters in our world doing the advocacy and defense work day in and day out. And we owe it to our kids.

Herzl Camp is more than a place to swim and laugh and roast marshmallows (though we do those things better than most). It’s a place where young Jews become proud Jews. Where Israel isn’t just a word on the news – it’s something to love, wrestle with, and fight for. Where identity isn’t just tolerated – it’s turbocharged.

“We’re not just running a summer program. We’re building pride. We’re building community. We’re building the next generation of Jews who don’t whisper who they are – they sing it.”

We’re ready for summer. And we’re ready to do the work – the joyful, sacred, essential work – of raising proud Jews.

But here’s the truth: even as Jewish camp proves itself again and again as one of the most powerful builders of Jewish identity – more immersive than day school, more transformative than any weekend retreat – it remains dramatically underfunded.

Dan Senor said it best: Jewish camps are doing the heavy lifting. Last summer alone, 189,000 kids, teens, and young adults attended Jewish camps – a 5% increase over the year before. Families are doubling down on Jewish experiences because they know what’s at stake. And yet, despite all that momentum, philanthropic support still lags far behind the need.

At Herzl, it takes $1.3 million in community support every year to make this mission possible – to fuel scholarships, bring Israeli campers to our woods, and create the kind of immersive, joyful, unplugged experience that helps our kids not just feel Jewish, but love being Jewish.

We’re not just running a summer program. We’re building pride. We’re building community. We’re building the next generation of Jews who don’t whisper who they are – they sing it.

Here’s to Dear Old Herzl and, as always, Am Yisrael Chai!