Last month, in July 2021, New Voices Magazine released a landmark investigation on the pressure-filled, even coercive sexual cultures in Jewish youth groups across North America. This issue has spanned decades and geography, affecting thousands of Jews both directly and indirectly. As North American Jews have struggled to come to grips with these #MeToo era questions of consent, continuity, heteronormativity, and harm among teens, a handful of recent youth group and summer camp participants have come forward to share their personal experiences within Jewish youth spaces’ sexual culture, telling their stories here with New Voices. These testimonies feature both Jewish youth groups and summer camps, demonstrating the scope of the issue. It is our hope that these four stories help our readers see the full impacts of this significant, painful topic– and shed light on new solutions to build a healthier, more loving Jewish future.
Content warning for discussion of sexual assault.
Throughout high school, a main element of my social life was participating in USY, which I loved for the friends and the array of activities to brighten up my typically bleak high school routine. There was a stark difference between my daily high school life and my USY life; it was a smaller and more tight-knit world within our regular world. There was this notion that it was more inclusive than school with less strict social boundaries, and relationships between youth group participants felt much more intimate because there was a sense of trust that teenagers don’t tend to get elsewhere. This can be an incredible thing to have, especially with Jewish peers – I think USY was a saving grace of my mental health in high school, and I don’t take that for granted. However, I do think this type of intimacy and closeness comes with the responsibility of maintaining personal boundaries, a responsibility that was often neglected.
At the time of my involvement, I was definitely aware of what is now often referred to as a “toxic hookup culture”, but I saw it as something I could force myself to ignore if I didn’t want to participate. Despite viewing it mostly as a nuisance, the culture definitely made it so that hooking up was often such a prominent topic and means for bonding that, if you weren’t involved in those activities, you wouldn’t have much to contribute to many conversations. In retrospect as an adult and a lesbian, I have recognized that it was more damaging than I could see at the time.
*****
Once at a convention, I met this really nice guy and I was enjoying hanging out with him and his friends. One of my friends told me that he liked me and I panicked; often my reaction to these sorts of teenage situations for reasons I would later understand. I told my friend I wasn’t interested, but continued to hang out with the guy since I genuinely enjoyed his company.
Later that week there was a dance for just the seniors, and during a slow song he asked me to dance with him. I felt like I didn’t have a valid reason to say no, because he was just asking for a dance. It felt rude to reject something so benign, but I was nervous that he hadn’t gotten the message that I wasn’t interested – or was ignoring it – and expected something more. Regardless, out of fear that it would be an overreaction to reject him, I danced with him as others made faces and gestures at us; word had spread that he liked me and people wanted us to be a “thing”. I vividly remember feeling like it was inevitable that we were going to kiss in front of everybody and suspected it might’ve been his intention in asking me to dance and that if I didn’t do it, the remainder of the song would be uncomfortable anyway. So I let him kiss me to get it over with and figured it would end soon enough, but it felt like an excruciating long time. I was so uncomfortable making out with him in front of everyone, and I think someone even took pictures of us (which was one of many times I witnessed others photograph people kissing at dances, and not the first time people had done this to me).
I was absolutely mortified and left the dance shortly after. I didn’t want to show my face after the incident, even though pretty much everyone else seemed to think it was exciting. Later that night, one of my counselors asked if I was okay. She saw what happened and figured I was uncomfortable. To everyone else, I suppose it seemed normal.
I think I heard later on that he felt bad about what had happened, but he never said anything to me directly. I’m not mad at him for that, and I wasn’t mad at the time either; he likely had also been pressured into it by his friends despite knowing I wasn’t interested, and wasn’t actively trying to harm me. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had been uncomfortable in that situation as well. I don’t say this as an excuse for him, but rather because as an adult I understand that what happened was due to a larger issue within the culture. We were both children who ended up in a confusing and embarrassing situation as a result of the pressure.
*****
I don’t think that people hooking up in youth groups is inherently problematic. There are benefits of teenagers exploring their sexuality in an environment that feels safe. I also think this phenomenon is inevitable in this age group and setting, because an all-Jewish environment feels more comfortable for Jewish teens in addition to the historic underlying motive for Jews to seek out Jewish partners, which even manifests in what may seem like frivolous teenage antics.
I also admittedly participated in this culture to an extent; I loved the excitement of friends having a fling or hooking up with someone, but as soon as the attention was on me, I was always very uneasy. We treated this anxiety as a rite of passage; since I was new to navigating “boy” situations, it would presumably go away as I got more experience. I believe this mentality is the main issue with hookup culture. It has become normalized as part of the USY experience to the point that discomfort is chalked up to being a simple obstacle that everyone overcomes eventually, rather than valid feelings that should be respected. In retrospect, these moments severely postponed my own realizations about my sexuality because nobody ever honored the reason for my anxiety, making it very difficult to set boundaries for what I was and wasn’t comfortable with. Obviously this is not an experience unique to USY, but being heavily involved in the organization intensified it.
It’s difficult to strike a balance between allowing teenagers to express themselves and making sure kids feel empowered to create boundaries. An obvious start would be to ensure that staff members are not enabling these activities, whether participating in the gossip or arrangements of the hookups. However, I don’t think the elimination of this staff behavior will be the end all be all in fixing these issues. This is about a larger necessary shift towards a culture of awareness and communication in USY, where it is normalized for people to articulate their discomfort and have others respect those feelings. The most effective way to achieve this is to amplify the voices of people articulating their experiences in retrospect. This sets an example for current USYers, demonstrating language for them to vocalize their own discomfort if and when such situations arise. Empowering teenagers in this way is an important step towards helping them advocate for themselves within USY and beyond.
When it comes down to it, we all want USY and Jewish youth groups overall to be a place of comfort, fun, and community. I don’t want anything I’ve said to take away from the fact that I absolutely got those things from USY. The youth group gave me a great support system while I was a teenager. But sometimes a support system made up of other teenagers isn’t always going to guide kids to do the right thing, which is why it’s important we continue this conversation as adults.
-Laura Shrago
The more and more I think about it, the worse it gets. He never showed remorse. He knew exactly what he was doing and didn’t even care. When I visited a friend, I began to realize the severity of the situation. He did not just attack me once, but numerous times. He tried (and sometimes was successful) in attacking me in a sacred space, a Greek Life building, a nursing home, and a participant’s house, all in three days’ time.
We set boundaries beforehand. They were “anything but sex” on his end and “don’t touch me” on mine. I told him I had endured sexual violence in the past. He was well aware. I kept telling him “no”, “not now”, and “stop” because we were in a public place. It was no way acceptable to do anything sexual in the setting we were in. He didn’t care and he made me touch him several times in front of female Holocaust survivors. It was disgusting on many levels considering he pointed the survivors out and made sexually suggestive comments towards them.
After he assaulted me earlier that day, we had plans to hook up. I used to think that at first it started off as consensual. It didn’t. I begged him to put on a condom. He refused. I just let it go. I feel like he had a reason not to. I gave him the sex act he wanted. Not only did he touch me, he groped me. I instantly fell into a deep depression. I could identify what happened the moment it did. Normally I would freeze up. All I was able to do was give a face of disgust. Since he had cornered me I couldn’t get away, so I decided to try to finish the sex act. Luckily he heard a staff member come down. That saved me. I could have been raped on a dirty, cold, dark floor. I was lucky enough that I was wearing a one piece bathing suit under my clothes.
After he groped me he told me, “You’re worthless now.” I didn’t quite know what he meant by that. I guess it was somewhat of a metaphor. He eventually got me kicked out. I was worthless in his eyes because all I was used for was his sexual gain. By getting kicked out, my “point” value dropped from 4 to 0. We talked over Snapchat after the assaults. He said, “Don’t save.” Then started to gaslight me. “Unbelievable…how could you not like it?”, “Did you like it?”, “Do you want me to do it again?” When I told him that I was uncomfortable and asked him why he assaulted me, he blocked me.
He publicly tried to attack me on a third occasion. I was not able to consent any of the times I was attacked by him. I was on a high dosage of medication which greatly impacted my comprehension. He knew me before and could tell that something was off, making me an even easier target.
When I reported the one assault, the youth group leadership laughed at me. That broke me apart. They said that they had obtained video camera footage from the nursing home and that my assailant and I were not working together any time during the day. All the other volunteers backed me up and said that we were together. The staff member even came up to us while I yelled “NO” when he was asking me to touch him and then later forcibly took my hand. I know now due another unfortunate instance of sexual violence that in order to obtain video footage you would need to obtain a search warrant, which can get messy when it comes to HIPPA. The leadership said that the authorities were notified but I know for a fact that they were not because I was never interviewed by the police or even the higher ups within the program.
I had a history of substance misuse in the past. He was aware of it. To get rid of me, he apparently accused me of having drugs (they didn’t specify) and reported me for having substances. The leadership told me that I had 24 hours to turn it over. I had no clue what they were talking about. He also sent screenshots of screenshots of things that were deemed as inappropriate (I don’t know what they were because I never saw them. He deleted them very quickly) around on my phone to other participants in hopes to build a stronger case for him so that he could remain somewhat innocent. He was successful. Because of the trauma, I lost so much weight there was a point where I weighed about 80 pounds.
To get back into the program I needed to go through a “repentance process”. I was in love with my youth group but I knew that I shouldn’t need to repent for something that was not my fault. During this repentance process I needed to go through sexual violence prevention training. That was truly a slap in the face. I was the victim, not the perpetrator. It was an awful experience. The training was extremely outdated and had many drug references. It seems like they did that on purpose. Lastly, I needed to write an apology to the person that assaulted me on numerous occasions to be allowed back. I decided it was not worth it to put myself through more trauma by writing the apology.
The assault impacted my entire life. It will never be the same. My freedoms are limited. I am not allowed to apply to colleges that are not within driving distance, in case something like this were to happen again. I can’t drive because if I get flashbacks it could cause an accident. I know that I wouldn’t be able to go get certain piercings because the trauma would come back.
I feel as if my Judaism has been questioned by others. Clergy members have called me a “whore”. They have told me I would feel better if I had just admitted I was “horny”. The person who assaulted me was most probably not kicked out because his parents are both Jewish professionals. Kicking out a son of Jewish professionals would not look good for any of the organizations involved.
Every female participant I have come forward to has said that he also made them feel uncomfortable. He either hit on them or was turned on by them. Other youth group members have come forward as well. They also were forced to write apologies. I cannot imagine how many others had to endure the pain that I had from him or the youth group as a whole. He was very strategic. I truly believe that getting kicked out saved me from being raped.
The movement as a whole preaches consent culture but when sexual violence occurs within the group, they don’t care. The point system in youth groups just adds to toxic hookup culture and takes it to a whole other level. If I had one wish, it would be to eradicate the point system.
-Anonymous
I went to Camp Ramah in Wisconsin when I was in 6th grade. Camp Ramah Wisconsin is a sleepaway camp, part of the conservative movement of Judaism. When I got to the camp I was very excited to meet my cabin mates, make friends and memories. I was told that this was going to be a place I will make friends for life. What you have to understand about Camp Ramah is that it felt, first and foremost, as a place for Jewish kids to meet their husbands or wives and make Jewish babies.
On the first night of camp the entire camp got together for opening day ceremonies where we listened to testimonies of married couples that met at Ramah. Throughout the summer we were reminded of Jewish love blossoming at camp almost daily. Every night each grade had activities, it was mostly either reading and studying Torah, playing sports or watching a movie. One night in particular I remember we were paired up with a camper of the opposite sex and made to go to prom, get married and have fake babies with them. We had to walk around the camp on a “Shabbat Walk”.
A Shabbat walk is where a boy and a girl walk a lap together around camp on Shabbat, the camp version of a date. A few weeks into camp I was asked out by a boy who, for the sake of privacy, I will call Steve. I was very nervous and I wasn’t really into boys like that yet. I actually had a crush on a girl at camp, but that’s another story. Steve had older siblings at camp and parents who were big donors to Ramah; needless to say he was popular. I was encouraged by his friends, my counselors, and tons of older kids to say yes, so I did. We went on a Shabbat walk and at the end of it he took me to the lake. On the walk I constantly saw people peeking out from the bushes and whispering around us. The whole thing was extremely uncomfortable.
By the lake Steve told me to close my eyes and then he kissed me. I pulled away immediately because It wasn’t what I wanted. With tears in my eyes, I ran back to my cabin. On the way back I was bombarded by people yelling, trying to talk to me. I kept running. I was sobbing pretty hard at this point. I talked to one of my counselors who told me that this kiss didn’t have to count if I didn’t want it to, that it wasn’t a big deal. I was upset and embarrassed but she helped me stop crying. Eventually she told me I had to go to dinner so I walked to the dining hall. Later that night I broke up with Steve. Once people found out I broke up with Steve, I started getting bullied. I was 11. Boys from his cabin sent me hate notes in the form of “shabbat-o-grams” which their cabin wrote with their counselors. I had food thrown at me in the cafeteria, dirt and cherries thrown at me by my “friends”. People came up to ask me why I would hurt Steve like that and tell me I was a bitch. I was sent to therapy at camp, but I don’t remember much from these sessions; clearly they didn’t do much for me.
I was allowed to call my mom, which was only allowed in emergencies. My mom complained to the Board of Directors, but was told if she continued to make a fuss she would be sued for defamation. The counselors at the camp kept telling me I was supposed to be having fun. I distinctly remember crying alone in my bed, in the woods daily. I wanted to go home and was told I was wrong for being sad, for hurting Steve.
The next summer I was pressured to return by fellow campers and shamed for not being there. That summer started what has been a very difficult fight and journey with mental illness. Additionally, this experience at camp created a block in my Jewish identity. I started getting anxious every time I was at synagogue. I’m 22 now and just starting to feel comfortable again in Jewish settings. I still get anxiety attacks in synagogues and Jewish spaces. Camp Ramah Wisconsin has a huge problem that they don’t want to address. Here’s what I learned at Camp Ramah as an eleven year old : Men are entitled to my body and my emotions and it is my Jewish duty to marry a Jewish man and birth his children. This obsession with creating Jewish babies doesn’t stop at Camp Ramah; it is an issue that plagues the entire Jewish community. We need to hold ourselves accountable and take a long look at what we are teaching young Jewish people. These are dangerous lessons and I hope that by adding my story to the massive pile of other stories will inspire action. We owe it to ourselves and future generations of Jews to do better.
-Mara Huck
Being a part of a youth group in high school was an intoxicating experience. I created lifelong friendships and was able to go through tremendous amounts of personal growth. When I first entered the youth group as a freshman in high school, I was amazed by how open everyone was about their sexual experiences. I thought it was awesome. In fact, I had my first kiss at an event, with someone 4 years older than me. At the time I was extremely excited and thought it was really cool that I got someone so much older than I was, but as a current 18-year-old, the thought of doing anything even remotely sexual with someone who is 4 years younger than me makes me want to throw up. No one saw an issue with it or thought to point out that it was not normal. As time went on, I began to realize how toxic the constant talk of sex was.
As I began to feel more and more comfortable in my queerness and was exploring my sexuality in terms of romantic relationships, the youth group became someplace where I felt uncomfortable opening up about myself. I felt queer people were constantly being pushed out of the conversation. The only time when queer people were included in the conversation was when straight people wanted to “ship” us together like we were some sort of TV show characters, or when my straight friends all of a sudden decided they wanted to know how two women have sex. One of my best friends in youth group also identified as bisexual and I could not tell you how many times our straight friends would be asking when we were gonna hook up if we were dating, “shipping” us together. It created unnecessary tension in our friendship that was just plain awkward.
I would like to say that my own youth group attempted to be very inclusive. My sophomore year we had a small program on consent and I actually was able to write a program on the relationship between being queer and being Jewish. I saw the adults were trying, but it felt like the bare minimum. There were so many opportunities to stop sexual assault or to open up the conversation about it and yet none of that happened. Likewise, there were so many opportunities for the adults to include LGBTQ+ people in the conversation aside from just asking pronouns, and yet again, none of that happened. High-schoolers in leadership positions ( a.k.a men in these positions) very easily took control over their power and used it to their advantage in a way that was disturbing.
I hope this culture changes very soon. The only way for this to be solved is for adults to sit down and be direct, to actually have these difficult conversations instead of pushing it under the rug like they have been doing.
-Anonymous
If you are an individual who may be currently experiencing harassment or abuse in your Jewish workplace or communal space, please contact Ta’amod’s free, anonymous, and confidential helpline powered by the Jewish Coalition Against Domestic Abuse (JCADA) at 1-833-760-0330 or submit a confidential message to http://taamod.org/call-line/. You can also call the RAINN National Sexual Assault hotline at 800.656.HOPE (4673).
