By Rachelle Unreich
I was sitting in my living room in Melbourne, getting ready to light my menorah for Chanukah, when an alert came through on my phone at 7.15pm, from our Jewish security community group. It said there was “an incident in Sydney this evening, which may have occurred at a community event.” I wasn’t too alarmed; I was used to these kinds of alerts. But only minutes later, my phone started pinging with texts of more details. People had been shot, killed at a Chanukah gathering in Bondi Beach. Fatalities kept rising. In the end, they would amount to the largest terrorist event ever to occur on Australian soil. Fifteen dead. Forty in hospital. It was – and still is – impossible to comprehend it.
Bondi Beach is a sunny suburb in Sydney that’s best known for its iconic beach, but I knew it well because I had lived there for two years, choosing it precisely because of its Jewishness. I lived in an apartment belonging to a Holocaust survivor – she had been in Auschwitz with my mother who was also a survivor – that was situated right above a kosher butcher, with a Jewish social club a few doors away. Years later, after I’d written my book A Brilliant Life about my late mother Mira, I appeared at a Sydney Jewish writers festival in a building that opens up to the beach itself, and only steps away from the park where the Chanukah event was held. (more…)
I spoke with a leading business coach for working moms who guides her clients take the strength out of stories like “I should be farther along in my career” when comparing to other women, or “I am ruining my kids” when you pick up your child at 3:30 PM at the day care instead of 3 PM. She admitted most of her clients forgot what it takes to make them happy. It often becomes a glass of wine after the kids are in bed and Netflix.
You made it through the Terrible Twos—the tantrums, the power struggles, the overwhelming sense of “What now?”; only to find yourself, years later, staring down the next developmental storm: Middle School. And what a storm it is, hopefully this will help you navigagte this voyage.
Over time, after October 7, I heard the voices of Jewish community leaders in the diaspora (thank you for your advocacy and leadership) urging me to be a loud and proud Jew. But I did not feel loud. I felt helpless, weak, and wordless. Proud Jew? Yes. But, what did my Jewishness actually mean to me? I wanted to be a loud and proud Jew, but I didn’t know how – or even fully why.
After a long, hot summer of lazy days that bleed into night, getting back into a routine at the start of the new school year can feel overwhelming for students and parents alike. Fortunately, we have some tips and strategies to help ease this inevitable, yet exciting, transition.
As a lifelong New Yorker and a mom, I never imagined a place where I could slow down without giving up the rhythm and energy I love. But that’s exactly what I found in The Hamptons. What started as summer weekends eventually turned into a full-time move, and raising my children here has brought balance, beauty, and an unexpected sense of ease to our lives.
This Mother’s Day, I want to remind all of us: we are not machines.
“Mom, there’s a big fire coming towards our house!” Camille, my 13-year-old, screamed from her room.
“The greatest things we can give our children are roots and wings.” – W. Hodding Carter II.
As parents, we share a universal goal: to protect our children and provide them with a safe environment to grow and thrive. In today’s rapidly changing world, however, that mission feels more urgent and complex than ever. The challenges we face—from emerging threats in schools to the uncertainty of global events—demand a fresh approach to safety and resilience. We need a new safety playbook, one that reflects the realities of our times and starts where all meaningful change begins: at home, with moms leading the way.