Each Passover, we gather to retell a story passed down through generations of a people enslaved in Egypt, led by Moses toward freedom, and transformed into the Nation of Israel. This annual ritual is far more than a ceremonial tradition. It is a spiritual and national reawakening, a deliberate act of memory and meaning. We don’t merely recall history—we relive it. The Exodus is not a conclusion; it is a beginning. A reminder that freedom is not the destination, but the foundation point of a greater mission: to carry the legacy of the past into the promise of the future. This belief lies at the heart of Judaism and of our work in Jewish education. As Jews, we understand that true freedom is not merely release from physical bondage—it is the ability to cultivate the mind and elevate the soul. It is the sacred opportunity to shape lives rooted in purpose, integrity, and vision. When we educate our young people to think independently and live meaningfully, we are not just preparing them to fulfill their potential—we teach them to generate it. This philosophy comes vividly to life in a recent short documentary featuring Uri Poliavich, co-founder of the Yael Foundation and a visionary entrepreneur. Uri's journey—from personal growth to identity and discovery and ultimately empowering others—embodies the values that drive our mission. He describes how success in the business and hi-tech world enabled him to give back, but more profoundly, how purpose itself became the new engine of success. His clarity of self and unwavering commitment to impact remind us that true education is never transactional; it is deeply transformational. Slavery demands obedience. Freedom, by contrast, demands imagination. For generations, Jewish tradition has held that education is not merely an academic endeavor, but a sacred dialogue—a conversation that spans centuries, built on inquiry, reflection, and moral clarity. What elevates a people from the shackles of oppression to the dignity of nationhood is not only the moment of liberation, but the capacity to dream—and to formulate—a future greater than the past. That is why strategy matters. When we educate with intention, we do more than transfer knowledge—we construct frameworks for thought. We nurture environments—schools, communities, families—where character is formed, ethical responsibility is championed, and leadership is inspired. We are not filling vessels. We are shaping lives. Uri also spoke powerfully about the role of mentorship and the sacred responsibility that accompanies success: to turn back and lift others as you rise. We must be driven by a commitment, not just to knowledge, but to meaningful experience; not only to skill-building, but to identity formation; and not just to excellence, but to belonging. The Israelites may have crossed the Red Sea to gain their physical freedom, but their true transformation occurred later—in the wilderness. In the wandering, in the questioning, and ultimately, in the receiving of the Torah at Sinai. It was there, in that barren and uncertain landscape, that a people became a nation. Today, we find ourselves in a different kind of wilderness—one filled not with silence, but with noise. Digital distractions, ideological confusion, and moral ambiguity dominate the landscape. In a world of algorithmic echo chambers and cultural extremes, we are often taught to conform rather than to think, to react rather than to reflect. So the question before us is no longer merely: Are we free? It is: What are we doing with our freedom? Are we building educational systems that awaken curiosity, resilience, and purpose? Or are we preserving structures that reward compliance and stifle creativity? Are we equipping our children to recite answers— Or empowering them to ask the courageous, uncomfortable questions that fuel growth? The answers, perhaps unexpectedly, are embedded in the very structure of the Passover Seder. Our most ancient tradition is built not on lectures, but on inquiry. The Seder invites each participant, especially the youngest, to ask—not only to hear, but to seek. The telling becomes a conversation, not a script. “Why is this night different?” “Why did we leave Egypt?” “Why does this still matter?” These are the seeds of education rooted in freedom. This is our story: one of redemption, resilience, and responsibility. Our mission is to carry forward the truths of our past—not as a rigid blueprint, but as a guiding light. At the intersection of education and liberation, we must work to ensure that the next generation leads not because they have to, but because they are inspired to. When we teach from a place of freedom, we are not simply educating, we are shaping a future worthy of our past—and destined for greatness. Chana Yosovich is CEO of the Yael Foundation, a philanthropic fund driven by the conviction that all Jewish children, irrespective of their geographic location or community size, should have access to high-quality Jewish and general education, working in 37 countries and impacting over 14,000 Jewish students. The Foundation's credo is visionary education as described here.
