There has been no shortage of commentary about me and about the larger conversation I represent. A few weeks ago, Adela Cojab had an article that listed me as someone she was championing. I hold no ill will against her, as she truly holds her own.
My response, however, received so much backlash, including another Black influencer messaging me privately using dangerous language, which I chose not to engage with. I am well aware that to some, I have become a "controversial" figure. This influencer said, "Don't let fame get to your head, and stop using my community for clout. Don't forget I have your number and what I've done for you."
Yet controversy is rarely the whole story. My aim here is not to inflame or divide but to invite a more nuanced understanding of a topic that has become uncomfortably polarizing: the role of influencers and advocates within our community.
Too often, when someone voices an idea that does not align neatly with another advocate's perspective, the instinct is to retreat into camps. We go straight to division. But have we stopped to ask ourselves about the intricate realities of the so-called "influencer world"?
That single word "influencer" provokes sharply different reactions. For some, it is synonymous with superficial self-promotion. For others, it signals courage, the willingness to stand visibly, to share hard truths, to give a platform to those who cannot yet speak for themselves. To influence in its best sense is to bring light where silence has long prevailed.
Yet the uncomfortable truth is that this work is celebrated only when it affirms the consensus. We praise those on the front lines until their message challenges our preferred narrative. At that point, appreciation quickly turns into suspicion.
And now, as tongues lash and names are called out publicly, much of the noise is mere reaction. Those who defend themselves for earning tens of thousands of dollars while living in the diaspora somehow find public sympathy. It is not their fault alone. It is everyone's responsibility to name imbalance when we see it.
How is it that non-profits prefer celebrity types over those actually driving impact? How is it that a philanthropist feels more comfortable writing a check when it comes with the promise of sitting beside a star, hearing them speak in close proximity, and, of course, snapping a selfie to commemorate their own generosity?
Mechanics of the fundraising pyramid, not isolated quirks
These are not isolated quirks; they are the very mechanics of the fundraising pyramid. This is how the sector functions, and we continue to enable it because, for now, it is the only way many organizations can keep their doors open.
But if we are serious about the values we preach, words alone will not do. Instead of merely saying how diverse the Jewish community is, show it on panels that reflect that diversity. Instead of talking about how we take care of each other, prove it in action.
The echo chamber is exhausting. It has become a survival of the scummiest contest rather than a celebration of those who remain resilient beyond the currents of battle and controversy.
Ultimately, the truth always prevails. And those who deem themselves entitled to speak over advocates who are Israeli, those who refuse to flee at the fear of being in a war zone, all while others use the danger for clout, should pause.
Last I checked, there are still forty eight hostages. Israelis are dying daily because of this war. Yet the same organizations that claim to be working tirelessly to raise money for them host red carpet galas where "Who are you wearing?" interviews dominate social media, while big checks flow to those paid handsomely to "raise awareness."
Too often, these evenings are little more than another gala for elite socialites to shake one another's hands, far removed from the reality they claim to champion. Yes, everybody has a role, but for too long this has been a band-aid.
We forget that behind every headline, every handle, every carefully composed post or glittering gala, there is a person, flawed, searching, and human. When we dismiss voices because they make us uneasy, or valorize others simply because they dazzle donors, we weaken the very fabric of the community we claim to protect.
It is time to replace reflexive judgment with curiosity. To listen before labeling. To recognize that influence, at its most meaningful, is not about chasing applause or collecting selfies, but about fostering understanding even when that understanding begins with discomfort.
Bellamy Bellucci is a former ballet dancer, model, advocate, and filmmaker based in New York, known for her work exploring identity, resilience, and the power of community.