Who is wise? He who

learns from every person.

Pirkei Avot 4:1

Holocaust Memory & Education

I’ve spent much of my career helping people learn, ask difficult questions, and make meaning from complicated histories.

My teaching career began in 2002 and has taken me through traditional classrooms, supplementary Jewish education, professional development, community programs, and nonprofit leadership. Working with students and educators from different social, economic, racial, and cultural backgrounds taught me early that effective education starts with listening: understanding where people are, asking good questions, and creating the conditions for people to engage honestly with challenging ideas.

That work eventually led me to Holocaust education and, ultimately, to the leadership of the Oregon Holocaust Resource Center.

There, I worked at the intersection of education, history, community, and memory. I developed and facilitated programs for educators, helped shape curriculum, led workshops on difficult topics, and worked to make Holocaust education meaningful and relevant for new generations. Earlier in my career, I also contributed to curriculum development projects ranging from teacher training for early childhood educators working with refugee communities in Chad to the curriculum for the Ohio Holocaust Memorial.

One of the accomplishments I’m proudest of was helping secure more than $1 million in endowment funding for the Oregon Holocaust Memorial and Holocaust education. The fundraising itself was significant, but what mattered most to me was what it represented: a long-term commitment to preserving the stories and legacies of Holocaust survivors and ensuring that their experiences continue to inform and challenge future generations.

For me, Holocaust memory has never been only about the past. It is about what we choose to carry forward.

It asks us to consider how we teach difficult history, how we respond when human rights are threatened, how we recognize the warning signs of dehumanization, and what responsibilities we have to one another. As the generation of survivors passes, I’m increasingly interested in how we preserve not only their stories, but the humanity behind them—their voices, choices, humor, resilience, relationships, and hopes for the future.

My work in this field has also taught me that there are rarely simple answers to difficult questions. Whether facilitating a conversation among educators, navigating complex community dynamics, or serving as a Human Rights Commissioner, I’ve learned to lead with curiosity, listen carefully, and stay engaged when conversations become uncomfortable.

That may be one of the most important things education has taught me: we don't have to have all the answers to begin a meaningful conversation. Sometimes our responsibility is simply to make sure the conversation continues.