I’ve been quiet on here for a minute, so I’ll get right to it: This is my last week at the Forward.
After a whirlwind decade in journalism, I am heading to Jewish Women International to work on the urgent issues of gender-based violence, economic justice and women’s leadership. Don’t worry — I’ll still be writing, speaking, and publishing widely about Israel and Jewish diaspora issues, including more regularly here on Substack. I’ll just be working more actively on them, too.
I’m excited for this change — and also kind of terrified.
Acknowledging that is new for me, as my habit is to intellectualize emotions away. “I Am A Journalist,” I said again and again to myself over the years, justifying the long hours and low pay. I became one at 19, so desperate to ditch my soul-sucking startup gig in Ra’anana that I begged an editor at the still-new Times of Israel for a job, any job. And before I knew it, this work became my life.
It was 2014, and there was a war going on. The scrappy team, then working out of the upper floor of a Jerusalem home still occupied by residents below, consisted of Israel’s best and brightest. They taught me everything I know about empathy, courage, and how to channel your grief into a story. “I Am A Journalist” — those words became their own kind of prayer.
For a decade, I never looked back. I loved every minute of it, even the hardest parts. I reported from three continents, covered several wars, met incredible people, and won prizes for my writing. All the while, I felt like I was doing my small part to save the future of democracy, truth, and even reason and morality, as highfalutin as that may sound.
There are also undeniably sexy parts of this profession — the parties, the fellowships, the meeting important people, the ever-illusive “access” and the feeling very pleased with yourself when you tell people how you spend your days.
But eventually, I also grew exhausted.
The things that kept me in the field for so long — the urgency of combatting and analyzing the most urgent threats to our civilization, my insatiable curiosity, a need to connect deeply with others and understand what drives them, a sense of duty to help shape the future of the places where I live and love — are also what are whispering in my ear, gently coaxing me to leave.
I have learned to trust that voice, the one so many of you have shared has helped you make sense of the war in Israel and the response in the States, even when I don’t fully understand it.
I do know this: It is the greatest privilege of my life to get to be curious with you, learning from you each along the way. I do not take it for granted, and look forward to continuing to do so.
What I’ve written
Since my last newsletter, I’ve written widely in the Forward about a variety of sobering topics: how young Israelis and Palestinians are giving up on peace and Tiktok is turning young Americans against Israel, about the denialism of sexual violence committed on October 7, how Nikki Haley has no shot at the White House, and why I think my alma mater was wrong to fire a professor for his truly awful speech.
If you like what you read
Please share LEA in Brief with a friend or two. I hope you’ll subscribe and stay in conversation as we live through these momentous times together. You can find me far too often on X (formerly Twitter), and my more emotional, real-time processing on Instagram.