There’s a heaviness we’re all carrying right now.

Last night, a young couple, Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Milgrim, z"l were shot and killed in Washington, D.C., just steps from an AJC event where they had gathered in community, to speak about humanitarian aid for both Israel and Gaza. It was a gathering of peace and cooperation. This young couple, about to become engaged, were targeted because they were believed to be Jewish.

This tragedy took place on the very same day the ADL released a disturbing new report documenting a sharp rise in anti-Semitic incidents at independent schools across the country, schools that are supposed to be safe spaces for learning and belonging.

This has been brewing for a long time now and has seemed to reach a boiling point in our country. When phrases like “Free Palestine,” “From the River to the Sea,” and “Globalize the Intifada” are shouted without thought or context, they are not just political slogans. They are dangerous, intentional phrases that dehumanize Jews and create a climate in which acts of violence and exclusion feel increasingly justified. And eventually actually lead to the violence we witnessed last night.

We cannot stay silent. So what do we do? We stand tall, we teach, and we build an even stronger Jewish community and future.

As Jews, as educators, and as parents, we cannot turn away and simply accept this new reality we are all living in. Our role, especially now, is to raise children who know who they are and where they come from. Who not only learn and protect our story, they carry our people’s story with pride. We make sure our children, by our sides, learn to walk through this world with strength, clarity, and purpose. They would like us to go away, and instead we galvanize.

I realize I am preaching to the choir when I say that Jewish day school is not just a great education - It is an answer to anti-Semitism. It is the vehicle through which we teach our children and parents to “shout”: We are here. We are proud. We will not hide. And we will live, in public, as Jews!

My wish is that you not just read these letters and blogs, but, if you believe in this, to take the next, very necessary, steps and share these stories and beliefs with Jewish neighbors and family members who have not fully understood this yet. This is actually the kind of action we all can take, right now; today.

Speak up and share that choosing Jewish education is an act of resistance. It’s also an act of hope. It’s how we invest in a Jewish future that’s rooted in identity, resilience, and joy, even now, in a time of uncertainty.

Today we grieve over the senseless death of two, young, beautiful people. But we also commit to telling our story and living it out. We remind others that this is what Jewish strength looks like not in anger, but in building, in purpose, and in living.

We teach. We remember. We stand up. That’s how we respond.

May the memory of Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Milgrim, z"l be a blessing.  And may our response be one of unity, dignity, and purpose.

Am Yisrael Chai.