August 11, 2026

I have spent 25 years in Los Angeles classrooms. I retired from LAUSD last year and now teach English and History at a yeshiva high school, where my students are learning the same things I always taught, but in an environment where their identity is not treated as a problem to be managed.

On June 3, I logged onto a Zoom meeting of the United Teachers Los Angeles (UTLA) House of Representatives as a silent observer and retired union member. Camera off. Microphone muted. I was there to watch, not to speak. I couldn’t have spoken if I’d wanted to.

For more than 30 minutes, approximately 160 delegates took turns denouncing me by name for being a Zionist, and calling Zionism racism. More than a dozen voices claimed they felt threatened by me, specifically for my “racist Zionist ways.” When they were finished, they voted to remove me. The parliamentarian objected twice that there was no mechanism in UTLA’s governing documents to remove a nondisruptive visitor. They voted anyway.

No reason was given at the time.

I am a grandmother. I am a retired public school teacher. I run a small curriculum consulting business. I founded Jewish Teachers of Los Angeles. What I do, the activity that apparently inspires reasonable fear in 160 union delegates, is document antisemitism in Los Angeles schools and report it through proper legal channels.

They were not afraid of me. They were afraid of my notebook. Not enough to tilt the boat, but definitely enough to rock it.

That fear did not come from nowhere. It came from five years of slow, unglamorous work that UTLA’s leadership would have preferred to ignore, and can no longer.

For the past two years, every single UTLA House of Representatives meeting has included at least one anti-Israel or antisemitic motion on its agenda, usually more. The June 3 meeting was no exception. At  least two motions that evening concerned Israel and Palestine. Not one addressed the fact that the school board has not yet approved the teachers’ contract, or that more than 6,000 District layoffs are looming. But sure, let’s spend the meeting denouncing a retired teacher who logged on to watch.

This is the same union that spent more than 1 million dollars supporting Kahllid Al-Alim for the LAUSD school board. Two weeks before the primary, social media posts surfaced showing Al-Alim had called “The Secret Relationship Between Blacks and Jews, Volume 2,” a Nation of Islam publication subtitled “How Jews Gained Control of the Black American Economy” and thoroughly debunked by scholars, “mandatory reading” for LAUSD students. He apologized. UTLA pulled its endorsement on Feb. 23, after standing by him for weeks. He came in second and lost in the primary. Seven figures, spent on a candidate whose public record on Jews required a formal apology, and the union held on until holding on became embarrassing.

There is also the matter of UTLA’s $499 donation to a PARCEO antisemitism training that excluded Jewish participants and taught that antisemitism, while real, should be minimized to avoid overshadowing or calling out other groups. Four hundred and ninety-nine dollars. One dollar below the threshold requiring disclosure on the union’s IRS Form 990. Someone did that math on purpose.

And there is David Feldman, chair of UTLA’s Human Rights Committee, who sent text messages expressing his desire to prevent Zionists from attending his committee’s meetings. The chair of the Human Rights Committee, working to exclude Jewish educators. Those texts became public. He remains chair, and faced no consequences from the union.

I am not writing this to tell you UTLA is hostile to Jewish educators. Jewish educators in Los Angeles already know that. I am writing this because hostility is no longer a background condition, but a policy.

When a union spends seven figures on a candidate who wanted antisemitic propaganda in district classrooms, that is not a statement about foreign policy, it is a statement about what the union believes Los Angeles children should be taught about Jews.

When a union donates to a training that teaches its members to minimize antisemitism, carefully keeping the amount just under the reporting threshold and excluding Jews, that is not progressive solidarity. That is institutional cover, paid for with member dues.

When the chair of the Human Rights Committee moves to exclude the overwhelming majority of Jewish educators from his committee, that is not a political position, that is a purge.

And when 160 delegates spend 30 minutes denouncing a woman for being a Zionist, who is sitting at home, camera off, microphone muted, watching a Zoom meeting on her screen, while the parliamentarian says twice that the removal has no basis in the union’s own rules, and they do it anyway, that is a message. You don’t mobilize people against a woman like that unless her presence represents something you fear.

You don’t even have to be in the room. They’ll come for you anyway.

Here is what they apparently do not understand: We are not going anywhere.

Through JewTLA and a growing national network of Jewish and Israeli educators in other teacher unions, we have spent five years doing the slow, unsexy work. Filing Public Records Act requests. Analyzing thousands of pages of district documents. Training educators on Title VI, Title VII, the Uniform Complaint Process and what the law actually requires. We also coordinate with legal organizations, inform legislators and prepare documentation for legal filings.

None of this is dramatic. There are no demonstrations, flags or chants. Most of the work consists of conversations and paperwork.

But UTLA’s leadership knows what the paperwork adds up to. Which is why they have moved from ignoring us to targeting us. And which is why 160 delegates turned their rage toward the woman who said nothing and simply showed up.

The flak is real. Flak means we are over the target.

UTLA has made its position clear. The Jewish community of Los Angeles, and every Angeleno who thinks public school children deserve better, should make ours just as clear.

We are not going back to being quiet.

Amy Leserman is a 25-year veteran English and social studies teacher, union member, founder of Jewish Teachers Los Angeles (JewTLA).  She serves on the California Board of Israeli American Civic Action Network, and has been vice president of the Association of Jewish Educators, and of the NEA Jewish Affairs Caucus.

A farewell Shabbat service for Beth Jacob Congregation Senior Rabbi Kalman Topp featured the beloved spiritual leader saying not goodbye but lehitraot (see you later) to the Pico-Robertson modern Orthodox community he’s overseen for the past 17 years.

Topp is departing Beth Jacob, where he has served as senior rabbi since 2009. He and his wife, Rebbetzin Jordana, are making aliyah. In Jerusalem, Topp plans to start a new congregation.

Beth Jacob Associate Rabbi Adir Posy told The Journal that the synagogue’s plans for a new senior rabbi will include the launch of a search committee.

Topp did not speak of those plans during the farewell service, held Aug. 8. Instead, addressing the hundreds seated in the main sanctuary’s pews, Topp spoke about what his nearly two decades of service to the congregation have meant to him.

His most gratifying moments, he said from the Beth Jacob bimah, were witnessing in real time the ways in which the synagogue fostered community — strangers becoming lifelong friends due to their shared involvement at the shul.

He recalled a Beth Jacob volunteer making a hospital visit at Cedars-Sinai to an elderly woman coping with illness, only to discover that they were both members of Beth Jacob. He also recalled two congregants who had previously only spoken by phone during the COVID pandemic as part of a campaign that encouraged members to call one another. Once in-person services resumed, the two met for the first time in the flesh.

These exchanges, Topp said, elevated his rabbinate from the ordinary to the sacred.

And they’re precisely what the synagogue’s leadership had envisioned when they sought out Topp for the role nearly two decades ago.

A community builder

Topp’s path to Beth Jacob wasn’t straightforward. He studied at the Sy Syms School of Business, the business program at Yeshiva University, where he earned his undergraduate degree in accounting. He was ordained at Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary, the rabbinical seminary of Yeshiva University, and later earned a master’s degree in secondary education from the Azrieli Graduate School of Jewish Education.

His first pulpit role was as associate rabbi at the Young Israel of Woodmere, New York. He also served as a rabbi at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine and taught Judaic studies at the Frisch School and Hebrew Academy of the Five Towns and Rockaway.

The pulpit role at Beth Jacob Congregation was one of two paths before him as he wrapped his time at Young Israel of Woodmere: He could either go to Israel to lead a community there or come to the West Coast.

He opted for the latter.

Those close to Topp say his strengths include his passion for teaching Torah. His nonjudgmental and unpretentious style has also allowed him to promote a warm and inclusive atmosphere. Additionally, his steadfast love of the Jewish people and an unflinching commitment to religious Zionism have helped shape the pro-Israel advocacy efforts at Beth Jacob.

He also has a deep love for sports. He often draws analogies between Torah and athletics that go over the heads of some of his congregants but are nonetheless appreciated.

These attributes have enabled him to build a tight-knit community at Beth Jacob, which is known as a thriving center of modern Orthodoxy. During Topp’s tenure, the congregation expanded its educational, social and Israel-focused programming while emphasizing the kind of personal connections that Topp highlighted in his farewell remarks.

Among his proudest achievements during his tenure was helping mobilize the Beth Jacob community around Israel and Jewish communal causes. The congregation has supported initiatives ranging from Jewish programming in Israel’s Golan Heights to emergency medical organizations. Topp has also been a visible advocate for Israel beyond Beth Jacob, serving in leadership roles with the Rabbinical Council of America and participating in national and local Israel advocacy efforts.

One particularly memorable example came in 2014, when Beth Jacob held a ceremony honoring the memories of the three Israeli teenagers — Naftali Fraenkel, Gilad Shaer and Eyal Yifrach — who were kidnapped and murdered that year. The congregation has also been involved in supporting emergency medical efforts in Israel, including Magen David Adom.

Topp’s wife, Rebbetzin Jordana, has also been key to the shul’s success. A scholar and communal leader in her own right, she has served as Beth Jacob’s yoetzet halacha, providing women with guidance on matters of Jewish law and family life.

She’s known affectionately by congregants as the “power behind the throne.” So it was especially appropriate that she joined her husband on the bimah at the end of the farewell service, as everyone rose to their feet and applauded.

Additional speakers at the farewell service included Beth Jacob Board President Mark Goldin and Board Chairman Jack Fenigstein.

Moving toward something new

For Topp, the move to Israel represents less an ending than a new chapter in the communal work that has defined his rabbinate.

“It’s not moving away. It’s really that we’re moving towards something,” Topp said in a phone interview. “But Beth Jacob is a wonderful community. I leave with tremendous gratitude and affection.”

He said the outpouring of support from Beth Jacob’s congregants has reinforced those feelings.

“We have felt tremendous love and support from the shul. Their heartfelt words over the last couple of months and over this past weekend have touched us,” he said. “I came to the decision this is the right time in my career to make a broader impact and take on new opportunities. Israel is a big piece of that.”

Topp and Jordana plan to settle in Jerusalem, where he will help establish a new Anglo congregation in Givat Hamatos, Jerusalem’s first new neighborhood in decades. The community is envisioned as a place where English-speaking immigrants and other residents can build a vibrant Jewish communal life.

But Israel isn’t the only place where Topp plans to build something new. He is also launching Areivim, a “Torah-grounded community” in Los Angeles that will invite Jews of all backgrounds and levels of observance to participate in Shabbat dinners, classes and social events.

The twin projects reflect the same community-building philosophy that has guided Topp throughout his tenure at Beth Jacob: bringing Jews together around Torah, Jewish life and meaningful relationships, regardless of where they are on the spectrum of observance.

For Beth Jacob, meanwhile, the task will be finding the rabbi who can carry the congregation into its next chapter while preserving what Topp spent nearly two decades building.

“I’m going to miss being the rabbi there,” Topp said, “but also there’s a real sense of gratitude for having this experience and excitement about what comes next.”

After the final applause on Aug. 8, Topp and Jordana made their way from the bimah, leaving behind a community that had become, in many ways, an extension of their own family.

A special kiddush followed in the synagogue’s outdoor courtyard, giving congregants one more opportunity to share memories and celebrate the rabbi who had spent 17 years teaching them that the essence of a synagogue is not simply the place where people pray — but the relationships they build when they come together.

Of all the breathtaking acrobatics, the impossible contortions and the electrifying special effects that erupted across the stage at Cirque du Soleil’s “Michael Jackson ONE” in Las Vegas, none of them matched the force of what happened when a single dancer stepped forward on one leg. In a show built on spectacle, the moment that struck me hardest was quiet, human and profoundly moving. Jean Sok, an amputee who dances with crutches, didn’t just perform. He redefined the stage. His presence cut through the noise and shimmer of Cirque du Soleil and delivered something far more powerful: a living example of what true inclusion looks like when it is embraced wholeheartedly.

Sok’s movements were fierce, intentional and deeply expressive. He didn’t defy gravity; he defied expectation. The crutches were not props. They were extensions of his artistry as instruments of balance, rhythm and strength. Watching him, I felt a shift inside me, a kind of moral clarity. It wasn’t the typical awe that Cirque du Soleil is known for. It was recognition: this is what happens when a community understands that disability is not a limitation but a dimension of human experience that can expand creativity, deepen connection and elevate collective excellence.

That moment stayed with me long after the curtain fell and consequently caused me to reflect deeply on disability inclusion within the Jewish community – a community rooted in values that demand we see the divine in every person. Judaism teaches that each of us is created b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God. This is not metaphor. It is a mandate. It means that every person, regardless of ability, carries inherent dignity and spiritual worth. It means that exclusion is not simply a logistical oversight; it is a moral failing.

Yet historically, Jewish institutions have not always lived up to this ideal. Many synagogues remain physically inaccessible. Programs are often designed around assumptions of ability. Neurodiverse and disabled Jews frequently encounter barriers not out of malice, but out of a lack of awareness, imagination or intentionality. And while the community speaks passionately about inclusion, the lived experience of many disabled Jews tells a different story.

Yet there are bright spots in our own backyard – examples of Jewish institutions that understood early on that inclusion must be woven into the fabric of communal life. Drawing on personal experience, when deToledo High School was established in 2002, its founding head of school, Dr. Bruce Powell, made a bold and visionary decision: he established American Sign Language as one of the school’s flagship programs alongside the most rigorous STEM and humanities classes. At that time, it was a bold decision. Today, it stands out for its uniqueness, excellence and its message — that communication, accessibility and human connection are central to Jewish education. ASL at deToledo is not a novelty. It is a statement of values, a commitment to ensuring that students understand the richness of deaf culture and the importance of inclusive communication. It is exactly the kind of leadership our community needs.

Jean Sok’s performance offers a model for what inclusion can be when it is done right. He was not placed on stage to inspire pity or to serve as a symbol. He was there because he is an extraordinary dancer whose disability is part of his artistic identity. His inclusion strengthened the entire production. It expanded the audience’s understanding of movement, beauty and human possibility. It demonstrated that diversity — authentic diversity — is not a burden. It is a source of power.

Jean Sok’s performance crystallized this truth. He didn’t ask the audience to overlook his disability; he showed us how it could become a source of power, beauty and artistic innovation. His presence on that stage was not symbolic — it was transformative. And it reminded me that inclusion, when done with intention and authenticity, elevates everyone. Now the responsibility is ours. To build synagogues, schools, camps and communal spaces where disabled Jews are not merely welcomed but expected. Not accommodated, but empowered. When we do this, we don’t just fulfill a moral obligation. We become the community we are meant to be — namely one that reflects the divine image in every person and celebrates the infinite ways that image can be expressed.

Lisa Ansell is the Assoc. Director of the USC Casden Institute and Lecturer of Hebrew Language at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion Los Angeles.

Outside The Maybourne Hotel in Beverly Hills on the evening of July 30, a small group of demonstrators gathered, holding signs that read, “Keep Qatari Money Out of Our City.” Led by Rabbi Pini Dunner, they stood quietly as the rush-hour traffic flowed along Canon Drive. Drivers glanced at the signs but kept moving. There were no honking horns, no one waved or called out in support. Nobody seemed to care. After all, it wasn’t about an issue people like to hate or love — let’s say Israel or Palestine, President Trump or ICE.  It was about Qatar – a country that rarely captures the attention of ordinary Angelenos.

“Qatar isn’t an attractive cause,” Dunner told The Journal after the protest. “There aren’t dying babies or a woke cause. It seems so marginal to the average person, whereas the PR campaign accusing Israel of genocide has been so powerful and has grabbed the attention of so many. We just don’t have that same compelling story.”

Dunner has been organizing these protests for years. Some may see him as a modern-day Don Quixote, tilting at windmills, going against a country that has huge resources, connections and power. Dunner, however, sees himself as sounding an alarm about what he describes as Qatar’s growing influence and ties to Hamas. The hotel, once known as the Montage Beverly Hills, was acquired in 2019 by Maybourne Hotel Group, which is owned by Constellation Hotels, an investment company that is controlled by members of Qatar’s ruling royal Al Thani family.

Last year, he led a similar protest outside the Bel Air mansion of former Qatari Prime Minister Hamad bin Jassim bin Jaber Al Thani, known as HBJ. “A man who funds terrorism lives here,” the protesters’ signs read.

The Bel Air estate is now on the market for a reported $400 million, making it the most expensive home currently listed for sale in the United States. “This is not a glamourous real estate transaction. It is a sale that will provide blood money to one of the most dangerous monsters in the Middle East who has a long track record of providing aid, shelter and financial support to America’s worst enemies,” Dunner said in a statement.

Dunner said he is increasingly concerned about Qatar’s expanding influence in the United States and the United Kingdom. He argues that the country’s vast wealth allows it to acquire high-profile properties and businesses, generating profits that he alleges are used to support Hamas and finance anti-Israel activity on American college campuses and elsewhere.

Among Qatar’s most prominent holdings in the United Kingdom are the Harrods department store, a significant stake in Heathrow Airport and a substantial stake in the London Stock Exchange. In the United States, Qatar has expanded its real estate portfolio with investments that include a 9.9% stake in Empire State Realty Trust, Manhattan West, the St. Regis hotels in New York and San Francisco and major American companies such as Compass and Gigamon. Through the Qatar Investment Authority (QIA), the country’s sovereign wealth fund, and related entities, Qatar has become one of the largest foreign investors in U.S. commercial real estate and businesses.

Qatar has also positioned itself as a diplomatic intermediary, including in negotiations between Israel and Hamas following the Oct. 7 attack, when it played a key role alongside Egypt and the United States in efforts to secure hostage releases and a ceasefire. “Qatar says, ‘Israel endorsed us to give money to Hamas,'” he said. “That may have been an excuse before Oct. 7, but after what happened, it is embarrassing to make such argument.”

He argued that Israel’s decision to allow Qatari funds into Gaza was based on the assumption that the money would help maintain stability, not strengthen Hamas’ military capabilities. “The purpose of that money was to prevent Hamas from attacking Israel – to pacify them so they would not want to escalate,” he added. “Instead, Hamas used those resources to build tunnels, purchase weapons and train fighters.”

Dunner is well aware that taking on a country with virtually unlimited financial resources is an uphill battle, but sees his actions making a change in how people perceive Qatar.  “Five years ago, nobody had heard of Qatar in Washington,” he said. “They knew where it was, but they weren’t thinking about it. It was completely off the radar.”

Dunner said he used to search Google News and X every day to see how often Qatar appeared in the news and would find only a handful of articles each month. He believes public awareness began to shift during the 2022 FIFA World Cup, when Qatar faced international scrutiny over allegations of corruption surrounding its successful bid to host the games, and criticism of the treatment of migrant workers. “They were using slave labor to prepare,” he said. “Today, most people don’t hear about  it in a positive light.”

Another indication, Dunner said, that his campaign was striking a nerve came when he was approached by Qataris who tried to persuade him to change his views and invited him to visit Doha. “Obviously the implication was that they would take good care of me financially,” he said. “I have been the subject of every possible tactic … to persuade me that my attacks on Qatar are not worth my while or that, should I stop, it would be worth my while.”

However, he said, not everyone can resist the appeal of Qatari money, pointing to universities that receive large donations, as well as politicians and businesses. “I’ve seen much evidence of it particularly in Washington where they have the largest number of paid lobbyists, many of them former members of Congress,” he said. “They pay for junkets to Doha … They put people up in the most luxurious five-star hotels and give them business-class tickets. Once you are on somebody’s payroll, you’re going to do everything you can to help them. It’s only natural, isn’t it? It’s the same with President Trump. They gave him a $400 million plane … so they know what they’re doing.”

Dunner said he has lobbied in Washington and London, held protests in both cities and held meetings with Israeli government officials and members of the country’s security establishment. “Slowly but surely, the shine has come off Qatar,” he said. “I would like to think – and I truly believe – that it’s because of the protests which I and others have led, not only here in Los Angeles but around the world, to bring attention to the nefarious activities of this ghastly country known as Qatar.”

Dunner believes public scrutiny of Qatar is growing, even if he thinks the issue has yet to receive the attention it deserves. Until those changes, he said, he intends to keep speaking out. Asked what success would look like, he said he believes Western governments need to take a much tougher stance toward Qatar’s ruling family. “I believe that any Qatari who is a member of the Al Thani family and has assets in the West should have those assets confiscated or frozen, and any connections to Hamas, Hezbollah and Iran should be investigated.

“We have to ask how it is possible that a country this small, with a tiny group of people, has such an influence that far outweighs its importance,” he said. “People need to understand what is happening and not allow it to be ignored.”