Letter From Rachel
Dear Friends,
In this month of December — a month marked by festivals of light in the heart of winter — it seems that light represents exactly what the human spirit longs for during times of despair: moments of hope. In Israel, within nonviolent protest organizations we often say that despair is not a work plan, and that action itself is hope. When it comes to Galilee Dreamers, this could not be more true. Our work — the ongoing, patient act of meeting, listening, and engaging — is where hope takes shape.
Two weeks ago, I watched from afar a nonviolent demonstration in Haifa calling for the right to express opinions and the right to protest, both as individuals and as a collective. Among the participants was a large group of young adults from the Rabin pre-military leadership academy, named after the late Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin. At the end of the demonstration, they stood in a circle and sang The Song of Peace — a song that has been absent from some official memorial ceremonies in recent years.
Deeply moved, I remembered that one of our Galilee Dreamers alumni, Hof, is currently a participant in the Rabin Academy. I reached out to him immediately, and he confirmed that he had indeed been there. From his words you could get the sense of the urgency of taking upon his generation to raise its voice in support of Israel’s fragile democracy, and perhaps that of the wider world as well.
I felt profound pride watching these young leaders and especially Hof . Throughout his years in Galilee Dreamers, he consistently embodied care, compassion, and genuine concern for others. He approached reality with curiosity, asked questions rather than accepting things as self-evident, and stood firmly by his values while honoring the principles of respectful and protected dialogue.
Out of humility, it is important to say that Hof’s character is shaped by many circles: devoted parenting, a supportive community, meaningful friendships, and values-driven education. And alongside all of these were his journeys in Galilee Dreamers, and the encounters he shared with communities along the East Coast of North America, who hosted us during the complex days following October 7th and the early months of the difficult war in the north in September 2024.
In the months ahead, in this column, I will highlight more of our wonderful alumni. These young people embody our hope for social change — change grounded in dignity, respect for the other, and social cohesion as the foundation of a shared society.
In her poem “How Sweet the Light in the Eyes,” poet Rachel Shapira does not name despair directly. It is present between the lines, quietly. In response, she offers no grand promise and no immediate solution — only an invitation to rise and walk. The walking itself becomes hope. Shapira writes of light that can be tasted — of sun and wind moving through the body, of small moments of beauty along the way. How sweet the light in the eyes is not only about seeing, but about nourishment: brief moments of goodness that sustain us and allow us to keep moving, even when the road ahead is long.
This is also the essence of our educational work. We do not promise a perfected reality. Instead, we create moments of light with a taste — encounters, dialogue, shared action — moments that nourish the capacity to continue, to act, and to believe, even within deep complexity. This kind of light does not erase pain; it softens it just enough to remain present, to keep walking, and to continue dreaming.
Perhaps this is why, even in darkness, we are called to turn toward the candlelight. The journey may still be long, but the moments when light appears — even briefly — are deeply meaningful, and perhaps the most important ones we have right now.
Thank you all for your ongoing support of this complex journey. Change does not happen overnight, but with persistence, commitment, and shared action, we can continue to widen the circles of light.
Wishing you joyful festivals of light, and above all — better days ahead.
Warmly,
Rachel