It’s not 2018 anymore. And that matters.

In the eight years since SRE began during the #MeToo movement, memories have faded. Urgency has shifted. And many of us are carrying a level of fear, grief, and exhaustion that is hard to name, let alone resolve.

This has been an extraordinarily difficult period for Jews, and for Americans more broadly. The emotional whiplash of the news cycle is relentless. Antisemitism is raging at levels not seen in decades. Faith in democracy and institutions feels increasingly fragile. Political divisiveness and extremism are fracturing our communities. Hard-won rights are sliding backward. Many things feel broken all at once, and the sense of vulnerability we’re feeling cannot be overstated. 

As the Jewish people know all too well, progress is rarely linear. We move forward, we pause, we recalibrate. But when fear takes hold and attention shifts elsewhere, there is a quiet danger: if we stop practicing the foundational values that have long sustained us, we don’t simply pause in place – we slide backwards. And when we slide on our core values, the ground beneath us begins to crack.

The work of safety, respect, and equity in Jewish communal life is structural. These commitments shape who feels seen, who feels safe, who stays, who leads, and who leaves. And while moments of public reckoning, like the wave of sexual misconduct scandals several years ago, can force clarity, the absence of headlines does not mean the work is done. That is simply when the work must become steadier, more consistent, and more deeply embedded.

Values are revealed in the quiet moments, in what we choose to maintain when the spotlight moves elsewhere. Right now, the spotlight is fixed, understandably, on the urgent and terrifying threats to our community. Threats demand focus and adaptation. But adaptation cannot come at the expense of our core commitments. 

Moments like these are precisely when these commitments matter most. 

Because no matter what is going on around us… 

• How we show respect for people in our communities still matters.
• Who we quote, platform, teach, invite, publish, and elevate still matters.
• Whose voices are present, and whose are absent, still matters.

Representation of diverse gender identities and expressions in Jewish media, learning spaces, leadership, and public discourse cannot come and go with the news cycle. All of this sends a message about whose experiences count and whose do not.

There’s a saying that we show our true character when no one is looking. In communal life, the lesson is simpler: we are always looking at and learning from one another. We learn what is acceptable by what is modeled, repeated, and normalized.

We cannot afford for the values of safety, respect, and equity to be performative, reactive, or contingent on headlines. They must be foundational, no matter what.

So how do we stop ourselves from sliding backwards during moments of national urgency or global crisis? We recommit to the core practices we already know work, and refuse to treat them as optional when attention shifts elsewhere.

1. Apply the “Kranjec Test” to learning materials

Source sheets, curricula, and educational resources should include at least one, and ideally more, voices from communities historically underrepresented in Jewish learning spaces. That includes women, trans and nonbinary voices, racially diverse perspectives, and others too often left out. This isn’t about tokenism; it’s about intellectual and moral integrity. Learning is richer when it reflects the full breadth of lived experience.

2. Retire the manel, for good

Given that roughly 68% of the Jewish nonprofit workforce identifies as female, there is no credible reason for all-male panels, speaker lineups, or expert discussions. None. We have moved beyond this. Our public forums should reflect the reality of who holds expertise in our field.

3. Diversify communal media intake

When sharing reading lists, podcasts, newsletters, or professional development resources, be intentional. Include women, LGBTQ+ voices, and people of color as a norm. What we circulate signals whose ideas we value and whose insights shape our collective thinking.

4. Build accountability into planning, not apologies after the fact

Equity shouldn’t rely on someone pointing out what was missed. Before events, publications, or initiatives go live, pause and ask: Who is represented here? Who isn’t? That moment of reflection prevents harm later and demonstrates care without defensiveness.

5. Treat safety and respect as daily practices rather than crisis responses

Clear standards for professional conduct, boundaries, and power dynamics should be visible and consistently reinforced at your organization, even when nothing has gone wrong. Especially then. Workplace culture is built in ordinary moments, not just in response to harm.

None of this is new. And that’s the point.

The challenge before us is remembering these practices when it feels easier not to. When we forget the basics, we move backward. The foundation cracks. And rebuilding a broken structure is always harder than maintaining a strong one.

Across our community, people are asking what values we hold onto when the world feels unstable. As Naomi Lipstein recently wrote about the danger of “retiring” commitments like tikkun olam when times get hard, the message here is the same, “Now is the time to root it more deeply in our tradition, live it out with courage and ensure that its practice captures what being Jewish truly means in today’s complex world.” 

Let’s model the values we want reflected back to us. And let’s ensure that safety, respect, and equity remain the ground we stand on, not a phase we once passed through.