Seventeen years ago, when I co-founded Yeshivat Maharat with Rabbi Avi Weiss, I had very little communal support. Every step felt like a herculean effort, and I sought out similar organizations with which to join forces. I believed that these established organizations were in tune with the goals of the newly formed Orthodox rabbinic school, and I (naively) believed that because we were aligned in our values, Maharat could seamlessly become the educational arm of an existing organization. I was wrong. I had believed that a collaboration would be mutually beneficial for both of us, giving me access to essential resources needed by my start-up, mentorships, and organizational structure. They would get an infusion of innovative ideas as well as a plan to implement ideas that they had been advocating for. The organization (which is no longer in existence) declined. I approached another organization and another, and the answer remained no. They didn’t want the risk, and Maharat was new and lacked credibility. I ventured forward alone, establishing Maharat, growing the organizational budget 25 times over, and most importantly, ordaining 100 Orthodox women who are serving the Jewish community and offering a new vision of meaning and leadership.
But, this is not in fact a story about Maharat; this is a story about the Jewish organizational landscape. My experiences in those early years have inspired me to inhabit a posture of collaboration. If someone asks and I can help, I want to try. I share pain points, ideas, and even names of donors (when appropriate). I celebrate the success of peer organizations and sit in grief with colleagues when they struggle. Here is what I know to be true: there is room for us all.
In late 2025, the Pava Family of Micah Philanthropies announced a $10 million gift to Yeshiva University, a groundbreaking investment in the advancement of women’s Torah study and Jewish leadership. This kind of funding is more than generous, it is visionary. It sends a message to the Jewish world that Jewish women’s learning is not supplemental, it is central. That Jewish women’s leadership is not experimental, it is essential.
Public responses to the donation from other Jewish women’s institutions have been overwhelmingly celebratory, filled with a genuine sense that this is good for the Jewish people. It was powerful to see organizations coming together with the shared understanding that when one woman’s organization, one Orthodox organization, one Jewish community organization succeeds, we all reap the rewards. The Pava’s gift offers a leadership pipeline for young women, many of whom will serve as future Jewish communal leaders.
The Book of Kohelet underscores that there is strength in partnership: “Two are better off than one…For should they fall, one can raise the other…A threefold cord is not readily broken” (Kohelet 4:9-12). When Jewish organizations support each other and work together, we create an unbreakable bond, strengthening our entire community into something resilient and unshakeable.
When we accept the premise that only one organization can succeed, we trap ourselves in a cycle of scarcity. While we’re busy competing for what we’ve been told is the single available seat at the table, we forget to ask the important questions, like why is there only one seat to begin with? When we stop accepting scarcity, we stop fighting over the seat and start redesigning the room. We stop measuring ourselves against one another and start aligning our visions, talents, and Torah. The greatest power we hold is not in proving we belong but in standing alongside one another and saying, we all belong.