Seventeen years ago, my brother Jonathan was in a terrible bike accident. One minute, he was riding along a country road outside Montreal, the next, he was unconscious on the pavement. For 18 days, while he was in a coma, my family sat vigil by his bed. My mother, who was quietly battling cancer at the time, kept a journal. Every day she wrote the same line: “Where there’s life, there’s hope.” Then, she filled the pages with updates about who visited, who brought sandwiches, and who prayed for him.
My mother’s words became our family’s mantra. And while we had no control over what would happen, we made a choice: to show up, to dress up, to sit together, and to keep believing that Jonathan would come back to us. That, I learned, is what hope looks like in action.
Hope as a choice and practice
Miraculously, after those 18 long days, my brother began to wake up. Today, he’s healthy and thriving. When I look back on the accident and the impact it had on our family, I’ve come to realize that hope isn’t something you simply feel.
It’s something you do.
Hope is created through small acts of showing up, joining in, and being with others, even when you don’t feel ready or qualified or strong enough.
That idea has guided much of my life and work. As chair of the Morris & Rosalind Goodman Family Foundation, and as a board member of the Jewish Funders Network and the Foundation for Jewish Camp, I’ve seen again and again how community fuels resilience. Whether through education, public health, or social inclusion, the lesson is always the same: The secret recipe for sustaining hope is belonging to something larger than yourself, to a circle of people who care and show up for one another.
In the years since the COVID pandemic, we’ve all seen how deeply people crave that connection. Now, there’s data to prove its power. The Hope Study from M²: The Institute for Experiential Jewish Education, where I also serve on the board, confirmed what I’ve always felt instinctively: that our greatest strength, as individuals and as communities, lies in our capacity to connect.
Hope comes from community
The Hope Study found that “community” was the most powerful driver of hope among professionals at Jewish organizations, and was named nearly twice as often as any other value.
One overall insight from the research, relevant for any type of organization, is that hope doesn’t grow out of comfort or security, but from connection, from the act of showing up, contributing, and belonging to something larger than yourself. The study affirms what my mother understood instinctively, scribbling notes beside my brother’s hospital bed all those years ago: People are hungry not just for purpose but also for other people.
For me, that sense of belonging has shown up in all kinds of unexpected places: In a boardroom over coffee, when a difficult meeting turned into a moment of genuine understanding; in late-night WhatsApp chats with colleagues who check in long after a project ends; on the tennis court, in book clubs, yoga classes, and neighborhood art groups where people come together, simply because it feels good to connect.
That sense of connection, and the ensuing sense of hope, is especially important among colleagues and between employees, as it is crucial for motivation, satisfaction, and resilience.
Turning insight into action
In order to tap into and encourage hope, organizations can, and should, take dedicated steps to foster connection and community among their staff and employees. The study shows that professionals recover best from prolonged crisis or collective trauma when given space to reflect and process together with peers who understand their experiences.
We can learn from this that to support employees, organizations should take an active role in creating structured spaces where colleagues can process shared experiences and engage in respectful dialogue about their current challenges. This can include guided reflection circles, team debriefs after difficult events, or even a simple shared meal. Each of these opportunities for dialogue helps embed empathy and hope into the organizational culture.
The study also shows that validation plays a powerful role in restoring hope, so it’s important to build people up by recognizing and celebrating individual wins publicly.
Highlight moments of courage and kindness, share stories of impact, and remind staff that their work matters. Each of these simple gestures helps people feel seen, valued, and connected to something larger than themselves. The return on that investment is tangible: lower burnout, higher creativity, and stronger teams grounded in shared humanity.
In the nonprofit world, especially, where mission and empathy are our daily currency, we often forget that those who give the most also need spaces that give back. When organizations prioritize connection, not just performance, they help their people rediscover the hope that fuels their work in the first place.
The moment we say ‘yes’
If the Hope Study proved anything for me, it’s that hope isn’t just a concept, it’s a verb. It lives in motion, in showing up, reaching out, and staying present for one another. It’s what keeps us moving forward when life stops making sense. And the beautiful thing is that it multiplies. The more we practice it and the more connections we make, the more it grows.
So wherever you are, whatever you’re facing, say yes. Join in. Invite people to your table. The next time life’s recipe doesn’t turn out the way you planned, you’ll already have your people and your hope right there beside you, ready to add fresh ingredients, stir with love, and create anew together.
The writer is chair of the Morris and Rosalind Goodman Family Foundation and a board member of M²: The Institute for Experiential Jewish Education.