Why I Went to Washington, and What I'm Bringing Home

When I was given the opportunity to attend the Religious Action Center (RAC)’s Consultation on Conscience in Washington, D.C. through the support of Women of Reform Judaism (WRJ), I didn’t experience it as receiving a scholarship. One of the keynote speakers, Rey Ramsey, called it what it truly felt like — a partnership. That framing mattered. It shaped how I showed up, how I listened, and how seriously I took the responsibility of being there.

I went to Washington not because I felt especially qualified, but because I felt compelled. I wanted to better understand how Jewish values live outside of synagogue walls, especially in moments that are complicated, uncomfortable, and emotionally charged. I wanted to see what it looks like when faith is translated into action, not as a slogan, but as a discipline.

Almost immediately, the conference challenged me to let go of false binaries.

The opening Shabbat service set the tone. An Israeli woman stood on the bimah and offered a prayer for Israel. Within that same prayer, she included a prayer for the humanity and dignity of the Palestinian people. That moment stopped me. It was profound not because it was political, but because it was deeply Jewish. It reminded me that our tradition does not require us to narrow our compassion in order to protect our people, but rather to expand it.
Throughout the conference, this theme came up again and again. Judaism demands that we hold more than one truth at the same time. We can care deeply about Jewish safety and continuity while also caring deeply about the dignity of all human beings.

Rey Ramsey’s keynote brought this idea down to the level of personal responsibility. One line that stayed with me long after the conference ended was, “If you extend a hand and you reach another hand, then you will reach the entire world.” He spoke about light, about how sending light attracts light, and about the work of transformation. What struck me most was his insistence that we stop abstracting our values and that transformation starts with ourselves. Too often, we talk about justice without allowing it to touch us personally.

Another session that fundamentally shifted my thinking focused on power and organizing. I learned that activity creates awareness, and action builds power. Action has a target, a demand, and a strategy. Organizing is not about how loud we are, but about how structured we are. Organized people, combined with organized resources, create organizing power. Knowing when to mobilize and when to organize is not just a technical skill, it is a moral one.

That distinction became very real on Lobby Day, the final day of the conference.

When it was my turn to speak in our lobbying meeting, I advocated around immigration protections, specifically the rescinding of the Department of Homeland Security’s sensitive locations policy. This policy had previously protected places like schools, hospitals, and houses of worship from immigration enforcement. Grounding my advocacy in Jewish values felt instinctive.I spoke about Passover and how, during the seder, we open the door for Elijah. About how we welcome strangers, especially those who have nowhere else to go. That ritual is not symbolic, but instructive of who we are meant to be.

I also shared a story that has stayed with me long after we returned home. One morning, my seven-year-old daughter and I were walking to school with her best friend and her friend’s mother, who is Persian. As we walked, the mother was scanning parked cars with an intensity that felt out of place. When I asked her why, she explained that she looks for signs that a car might already be running - dew disturbed, frost missing. To her, that could mean ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) agents waiting. Even though she is an American citizen, she carries her passport everywhere. She told me that fear lives with her in ordinary moments, like on a quiet walk to school. That is what policy looks like on the ground.

My ask to the congressional staff was not just for support. It was for urgency. For these protections to be treated as a highest priority. Fear has no place in schools, hospitals, or houses of worship.

Throughout the conference, I was struck by the leadership modeled by members of Congress who spoke with us. Congressman Don Bacon spoke about decency, kindness, and the importance of different factions working together. Congressman Jamie Raskin reminded us that democracy is not meant to be stagnant, The best defense of democracy is participation, and courage is not the absence of fear but the refusal to be indifferent.

What made this experience so meaningful was not just what I learned, but how fully it integrated Jewish values with practical action. It affirmed that advocacy is not something we do in addition to being Jewish; it is something we do because we are Jewish.

This is why the partnership with WRJ mattered so deeply to me. Access matters. Opportunity matters. When women are trusted with responsibility and invested in as leaders, the impact ripples outward. I brought home a deeper commitment to action over activity, stories over abstractions, and  building structures that allow people’s individual power to shine. We all leave behind a footprint and a body of work. This experience challenged me to be more intentional about what kind of footprint I want to leave, and how I want my Jewish values to show up in the world.

For that partnership, and for the trust placed in me, I am deeply grateful.