Reflections on Jewish summer camp in Massachusetts after October 7

By Daria Becher

Like so many others in Israel and around the Jewish world, October 7 changed everything about the months which have followed that tragic day. In particular, the attack motivated me to return to Jewish summer camp in North America as a Shlicha (Israeli emissary).

On that day, I spent 12 hours alone in a shelter. The only thing I was doing was talking to my family, my friends, and my coworkers from Camp Pembroke in Massachusetts, where I’d spent the previous summer as a Summer Camp Shlicha for The Jewish Agency for Israel.

My colleagues at Camp Pembroke were the ones who, after hearing the news from Israel on October 7, were genuinely looking out for my wellbeing and caring about me. They gave me the distraction that I needed while I was alone, and it kept me sane. Ever since then, I constantly thought about my desire to return to camp this summer to personally thank my friends — and to come back to my happy place. This is especially the case while I am evacuated along with the rest of my family from Kibbutz Sufa in the South of Israel, currently settling in Ramat Gan and unable to return to our home.

This summer, my happy place was Camp Pembroke, where I was the head of the waterfront. I get excited every summer to perform this job because I get to make campers smile, and to help them experience and enjoy the water. I watch them explore their identity, while making connections with them and in that process, learning more about myself.

In this role, I was one of the nearly 1,600 young Israelis, ages 19-25, who worked in North American Jewish this summer on behalf of The Jewish Agency to impart their experience and skills, creating lasting bonds with campers and forging connections to Israel. As Summer Camp Shlichim, we hail from all over Israel and come from a variety of backgrounds, in a true display of the country’s diversity. We participate fully in camp life, share Jewish traditions, teach Israeli and Jewish culture, and serve as role models for campers and staff.

I arrived in camp after experiencing various transitions and feelings of disconnection after October 7. From the day of the attack through the beginning of January, my family and I moved around between many places in Israel. We were initially evacuated to a hotel in Eilat, and from there we moved between several houses of relatives and other generous families who offered their available space.

Being evacuated to a hotel is far from a luxurious experience. It was an emotional time for everyone there. All of us who were evacuated lost someone we knew and cared deeply about on October 7. During our time at the hotel, my community would speak together and process our many different traumas. In January, we moved to an apartment building in Ramat Gan, where we now live temporarily with other members of Kibbutz Sufa.

After we moved, finding a new, meaningful life was (and continues to be) difficult, but my family and I realize that no one is going to take care of us except for us, so we banded together to get through this. Upon reflecting on the last 11 months with friends from my community, we believe that we are still standing today largely because of the sense of mutual responsibility that our nation and people feel for each other. I am so grateful for the people I have in my life, as they have helped and supported me and my family during this unfathomable time.

During my first year as a Shlicha at Camp Pembroke, I performed the job mainly for my own personal experience, getting to know the cultural and linguistic differences between Jews in Israel and North America, making new friends, and engaging in new activities. This year was much different. I returned to camp to connect with the people I met the previous summer, who today serve as a pillar of strength for me at a time of deep stress and uncertainty. I know that there are people at camp in Massachusetts who care for me and want the best for me — they keep me strong when I’m at my weakest point. In turn, I provide emotional support for them as they endure the rising antisemitism in the U.S.

I also came back to camp for solace and stability. After being displaced in Israel, there’s nothing that made me happier than returning to a place that’s familiar to me. Camp Pembroke is my home for the summer — and it’s still a home even though it’s located across the Atlantic Ocean.

Further, wherever we go as Israelis, we bring with us a story and a personality. When we travel to any place, the people who are there are exposed to our identity. Despite the difficulties that arose for me following October 7, I came with a very clear message that I’m here to live, to prove that the Jewish people are special strong, that we can be a force for unity, and that we can demonstrate our desire to influence positive change in society — not through propaganda and media, but through our identity and our stories.

That’s precisely why The Jewish Agency’s Summer Camp Shlichim were more important than ever this year. When misinformation about the Jewish people and Israel is spreading on social media, Shlichim come to camp, meet campers and staff from around the world, and share their authentic story and experiences as Israelis. It makes a difference. It’s a point of view that those outside of Israel don’t usually discover.

Living in this “happy place” while my family members are going through a war in Israel sometimes felt difficult. But ultimately, by infusing a taste of Israel into the summer camp culture environment and conveying the Israeli experience to America in a highly challenging time, I knew that my work as a Shlicha was the most important role that I could fill this summer.

With a sense of uncertainty dominating life for Israelis and Jews worldwide right now, I’m certain that at camp, the impact of the connections we forged as Shlichim this summer will be felt long after the war is over.

Daria Becher, a native of Kibbutz Sufa in southern Israel, was a Jewish Agency for Israel Summer Camp Shlicha (emissary) at Camp Pembroke in Massachusetts.