From Jackson to Indianapolis, We Are One Community

Growing up Jewish in the Deep South teaches you something that never really leaves you: nothing is far away.

This week, I read about the arson at Beth Israel in Jackson, Mississippi — a synagogue set on fire, Torah scrolls destroyed — and I felt it in my body. Not because Jackson is close to Indianapolis, but because I grew up in Birmingham, Alabama.

If you’re a Southern Jew from Birmingham, then Mississippi isn’t “somewhere else.” Alabama and Mississippi are separate states, sure — but culturally and Jewishly, they feel like one long stretch of familiar highway. The communities are small enough that you don’t just hear news like this… you can name summer camp friends whose families are members of the synagogue.

When I worked for the Birmingham Jewish Federation, I traveled to speak to small Jewish communities as part of the Jewish Federations of North America Speaker’s Bureau. I saw firsthand what I’ve always believed: small Jewish communities aren’t on the margins of Jewish life — they are a critical thread in the fabric of Jewish peoplehood. 

I remember speaking in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, a place where accents are thick, the air is humid, and Jews are few and far between. I saw my own Birmingham Jewish experience reflected back at me in the audience. I spoke about Jewish unity. And how we are all connected to one another. 

Yes, Southern Jewish life can be lonely at times. It can mean you’re the only Jewish kid in your class. It can mean you search a little harder for “your people,” and when you find them, you hold on tighter. But small Jewish communities also carry something powerful: closeness. When your community is small, you don’t take gathering for granted. Southern Jewish life doesn’t happen on autopilot — you build it intentionally and protect it fiercely.

As I processed the news out of Jackson, I kept thinking about a story from my childhood — one I don’t remember firsthand, but one that has been told enough times that it lives in our family’s bones. In the 1990s, my dad owned a Little Caesar’s pizzeria in Jasper, Alabama — a small town an hour outside of Birmingham with few Jews. One day, someone broke the windows and spray-painted swastikas across the storefront.

It wasn’t a geopolitical moment. It was just hate, up close and personal, reminding a Jewish family that in some people’s minds we are always a target.

Growing up Jewish in the South made me who I am. It taught me that nothing is far away. Not joy, not grief, not responsibility. It taught me the importance of strong Jewish institutions, such as our own JCC Indianapolis. Our institutions — whether it’s a synagogue in Jackson or our JCC in Indy — are cornerstones of our peoplehood.  

So this week my heart is with Jackson — and with every Jewish community, just like our own, that keeps choosing to gather, even when gathering takes courage.

Gather we will. In Jackson, in Birmingham, in Hattiesburg, in Indianapolis and beyond. Living Jewish lives, celebrating Jewish values. Unafraid and undeterred. 

Wishing y’all a peaceful Shabbat, 

JCC Indianapolis CEO Sam Dubrinsky