Tamar Pross is the founder of Citizen Café Tel Aviv.
(Oct. 22, 2026 / JNS)
There is no question that it is hard to be a Jew today. There is antisemitism; there is toxic divisiveness over Israeli policies and politics; there is trauma nearly three years after Oct. 7. Interest in the tribe is shrinking: In the United States, about a quarter of adults who were raised Jewish no longer identify as Jewish. About 30% of Jews are unaffiliated with any institution.
Almost all of us are searching for how to engage with our Jewishness because it is too complicated, comes with too much baggage, feels irrelevant or for any other myriad of reasons.
Yet over the past decade and especially in recent years, there has been a dramatic surge in people seeking out modern Hebrew instruction. It’s a rapid growth that points to something much deeper than language learning. It is a trend I see daily at Citizen Café, where students learn Hebrew online from Israeli teachers. These students come from every corner of this messy Jew or Jew-ish world, including those who reject Judaism and Israel, as well as those seeking to learn Hebrew because they want to feel more Jewish or even move to Israel.
This phenomenon shows how, in this moment of crisis and struggle, there is an opportunity to rebuild Jewish identity by connecting to a new kind of Hebrew. Language can serve as a gateway to exploring who we are and also work as a vital glue, connecting Jews to each other and, perhaps, to something larger.
But I want to be clear: I am not speaking about biblical Hebrew, prayer Hebrew, Sunday-school Hebrew, bar or bat mitzvah Hebrew or even Modern Hebrew the way it has been taught in most Jewish institutions around the world or in the ulpan system for immigrants in Israel. For many, those just emphasize and accentuate the brokenness of our Jewish identities and the fractures in our worlds.
Rather, the Hebrew that can create an opportunity to connect is the Hebrew that embraces and reflects the culture and lifestyle of Tel Aviv. Our curriculum and approach are not about “Israel,” “Zionism,” “Judaism” or any other loaded term. It is more a reflection of the dynamic, eclectic culture that has grown out of the city, and invites and enables pretty much anyone to be part of that, no matter where they stand on Israel or Judaism.
Anyone who has visited Tel Aviv or spent time with Israelis, even if they have never been to Israel, knows what sort of culture I am describing. It is a culture that embraces creativity, rushes to help others, and is always looking for the next opportunity to do something new, something different or fix something. It can be loud and chaotic, but it is also a slow Friday morning spent at a cafe.
I call the culture “Israeliness.” It is very different from ”Israel,” a state and political concept, and much broader than “Judaism,” a religious tradition. It is a culture that draws people in, excites them and gives them reason to stay around. More than anything else, Hebrew instruction provides access to this world, this way of thinking and this lifestyle, no matter where one lives.
For many, it is addictive: Students keep returning, semester after semester, year after year, even if they are never going to immigrate to Israel.
I have seen how for many of them, exploring and embracing such a culture through learning Hebrew provides a sense of hope. Or, at the very least, it lets people breathe and connect to themselves and their people without having to think about war, politics, antisemitism, Zionism or anti-Zionism, religion and many other serious yet explosive issues that are shaking people up inside and tearing them apart from others.
Although instruction is online, students have been meeting up in person all over the world; in some cases, flying to other cities to connect with those they have met in Hebrew class.
There is no doubt that learning Tel Aviv-style Hebrew with others—and the way that can provide access to a new and different Jewish identity—is a subtle yet authentic process, unfolding in such a natural way that most people experiencing it don’t really define it. They just keep doing it and growing through the journey, finding a place where they can be themselves and connect with others.
Reviving Hebrew study will not fix antisemitism, toxic discourse over Israel or every internal division among Jews. But in this painful world, it opens a path for all Jews to get to know another part of themselves and of each other. It’s worth a try.