Another firebomb. Another headline. Another wave of fear. Last week, in Boulder, Colo., a man threw a Molotov cocktail into a peaceful Jewish gathering, injuring a dozen people—among them, a Holocaust survivor. Just days earlier, in Washington, D.C., two young Israeli embassy staff members, Sarah Milgrim, 26, and Yaron Lischinsky, 30, were fatally shot outside the Capital Jewish Museum by an assailant reportedly shouting “Free, free Palestine.”
As a clinical psychologist and rabbi working with children, adults and communities, it is clear: We are not OK.
At Chai Lifeline, we serve Jewish families already burdened by medical crises, grief, trauma and a wide range of life-event crises. Increasingly, we’re responding to a newer, more public crisis—the trauma of being Jewish in a world where that identity feels under attack, even here, in America.
Each time there is an assault on a synagogue, a Jewish school, a Jewish gathering—each time a Molotov cocktail is thrown, or a slur is shouted—we don’t just endure another physical threat. We internalize another psychological one. Parents ask how to explain this to their children. Children ask if they’ll be safe at school. Survivors of previous attacks are re-traumatized. Entire communities become hypervigilant, weary and unsure of whom to trust.
And yet, in many public conversations and in the media, these attacks are often described as isolated events. But they are not isolated. They are part of a dangerous pattern. And there is another insidious pattern: When the facts are minimized, excused, it can send a message to every Jewish child and parent: Your pain doesn’t matter. Your fear isn’t real.
From a clinical perspective, we must acknowledge our fears, which can be very real at times like these. And if we fail to acknowledge them, we’re ignoring a growing psychological crisis within our Jewish communities. The fear and uneasiness from repeated attacks like those in Boulder and D.C. don’t fade when the media coverage does. They linger. They change how children view the world, how adults navigate daily life and how we relate to others.
Jewish tradition teaches us to meet adversity with resilience and faith.
Yes, we need better security, but we also need a strong emotional infrastructure. That means ensuring access to trauma-informed care, rooted in Jewish values. It means that schools, synagogues and communal leaders actively prioritize mental wellness along with physical safety. It means creating space for grief, fear and questions—and responding not just with reassurance but with teaching real tools for coping and healing.
We also need compassionate mental-health support rooted in Jewish values and cultural understanding. It is so helpful to us when our leaders speak out with clarity and consistency in providing the Torah perspective. While strengthening our faith, we also need to remind one another that trauma is not a weakness; it’s a human response to pain and fear. Learning to cope is possible when we can acknowledge the objective events and acknowledge how we are reacting internally and express our feelings to those who can listen supportively.
Chai Lifeline has been leading the way with these services for years, offering therapeutic support, community education and resources tailored for individuals, schools and families. We also provide guidance to rabbinic leaders and educators on how to address those who turn to them.
To those who are hurting, anxious, angry or afraid, we will listen. We hear you and we care. You are not alone and not overlooked.
And to those who still wonder why so many Jewish families feel unsettled, even unsafe, in 2025 America, let’s listen supportively to one another. Acknowledge the facts and stand with us not just in the aftermath of these tragedies, but stand by us as we continue to raise our families with wholesome values, contribute to community well-being and live proud Jewish lives.
