After a joyous start to the new year and a meaningful fast, UCSB students have returned to what they do best: sinning, in preparation for next year’s atonement. Unfortunately, for kvetching mothers across the country, their little boys have succumbed to the radical, traitorous conclusion that they don’t need to date Jewish. This is because of Netflix’s hit-new series Nobody Wants This , which follows “an agnostic sex podcaster [Kristen Bell] and a newly single Rabbi [Adam Brody] who fall in love, discovering if their relationship can survive their wildly different lives and meddling families.” A Rabbi dating a sex podcaster? Nothing has ever resonated more with the esteemed gentlemen of the Alpha Epsilon Pi fraternity. AEPi President and known MILF Appreciator, Imman Bareket, has this to say about the shocking phenomenon: “I’m a serious guy, so I don’t wanna say I can see where they’re coming from, but like, I see where they’re coming from.” However, not every member of AEPi is as open-minded about this sudden change in the status quo. Resident Jew and keeper of Shabbat, Mr. Jake Nguyen, gave his thoughts, following AEPi’s recent Halloween party: “I pray to Hashem  that this ‘trend’ ends immediately. At this rate, these women are stealing more seed than the Jewish right hand.” Certainly some cutting remarks, but our team of correspondents would be remiss not to mention that Jake had only just heard about the Netflix series, as he’d been keeping Chag for the entire month prior. Finally, newly active freshman in the Jewish community, Xander Love, had this to say in response to his non-Jewish girlfriend’s mother asking what a ‘Shiksa’ even was: “Uhhhhhhh…” When interviewing non-Jewish women at the AEPi party, their thought process was more along the lines of “Wait, this is the Jewish frat?” and “I think the pres knows my Mom.” Shockingly, even the women in the Jewish community seem at peace with this shocking new phenomenon. “As someone who’s been trying to hold the attention of any AEPi man for over 3 years, I was first personally offended by this craze,” claims bisexual icon and sort-of student, Sigal Kozolchyk. “But then I realized, B’’H, more Jewish woman tuchuses for me!” It would appear that everyone in the community is in their own phase of exploration.  At this time, our team of correspondents have not received an official statement from any Santa Barbara clergy, as they’ve been busy consulting the Talmud for Hashem’s stance on the series. However, given recent responses from Rabbis around the world, we feel confident in predicting their layered, multi-faceted response to this delicate subject: “Mixed.” What does the future of Jewish love hold at UCSB? Are hungover Minyan flings a thing of the past? Will flirting at Schmear and Schmooze become frowned upon? These are certainly turbulent times, but rest assured, there’s no way anything could get messier, especially with Simchat Torah right around the corner. Right?

Ally Walker Hi everyone!  My name is Ally and I am the IACT Israel and Engagement Associate for Santa Barbara Hillel.  I am a recent graduate from California State University, Northridge.  I have two degrees: one in Political Science and the other in Gender Women’s Studies with a minor in Interdisciplinary Studies of Africa.  I was extremely involved in student government, Greek life, and Jewish life at CSUN. As a Hillel staff member, I really want to show people why Israel is so important to our Jewish identity.  This can include conversations, trips to Israel, and education sessions.  A goal I really would love to achieve is to make Hillel a warm and welcoming space for all students and to take them to Israel with me.  If you ever want to connect, you can follow me on Instagram @GauchosGoToIsrael or email me at Ally@SBHillel.org . Sasha Kaplow My name is Sasha Kaplow, and I am the Springboard Innovation and Engagement Fellow at Santa Barbara Hillel. This means I am in charge of student engagement as well as event planning/facilitation (if you ever have an idea for a program -big or small- let me know)! I attended the University of Oregon, studying Sociology through the Clark Honors College from 2020-2024, and Hillel had a lasting impact on me during my time there. I grew up in The Valley of Los Angeles, a city full of Jewish individuals, so when I moved to Eugene, I feared I would lose touch with my Jewish community. Hillel widely opened the doors for me and continuously offered friendships, free meals, and the community I so eagerly searched for. I was hired at Oregon Hillel as the Social Engagement Intern during my Junior and Senior years, a position I now get to supervise at Santa Barbara Hillel. Lessons about leadership, drive, and empathy came from my internship, and I hope to inspire and pass down these lessons to the interns I supervise this year. Everyone at Hillel wishes to see you succeed, and I strive to make students feel empowered, cared for, and heard. I want to create a home away from home environment for Jewish students in Santa Barbara. Especially during challenging times, like this war, it is extremely important to me to make a safe, comfortable space where Jewish students feel supported. Feel free to reach out (coffee or boba is on me if you want to meet!) at Sasha@SBHillel.org .

This fall in Isla Vista, there is something in the air–something warm and bright that rolls in with the fog each morning. I have spoken with many members of our Jewish community and know a lot of you feel it too. I am a first-year student at UCSB and was told upon arrival that the Jewish community here is strong. Strong is an understatement. I was welcomed with such open arms and immediately understood these are the people who will always be in my corner. I’ve gathered many anecdotes of being Jewish on campus last academic year. You were forced to process the grief of October 7th while defending your right to simply exist in this space. There were days you were scared, and days you were furious. You experienced things a college student should never have to endure. The silver lining: you didn’t go through this alone. In every recounting of the past year, it is emphasized how close you all became . Your Jewish pride and care for one another have carried into this year.  All in all, the start of this year has been kind to us. We were able to commemorate the anniversary of October 7th in a tremendously touching way. We had public displays and tabling on campus, as well as a vigil for our community to come together and reflect. We have also been celebrating the High Holidays with immense intention and joy. Coming from Fresno (with a Jewish population of  >0.4%), it has been phenomenal to celebrate these holidays with hundreds of Jewish students. Rosh HaShanah was a much needed reset, where we were able to celebrate new beginnings and express gratitude for all of the sweet things in life. Yom Kippur was a chance to search our shortcomings and consider how we can contribute to our personal growth and surrounding environments in the months to come. Sukkot has been a gorgeous celebration of the will and circumstance that has allowed our people to thrive for over 3,000 years. Between the services and meals,  I’ve had laughs that left me breathless, as well as the most meaningful conversations of my life. Jewish life aside, Santa Barabara is a place of opportunity. There is truly something for everyone here and constant occasions to seize. The people are friendly, easygoing, and uniquely creative. They take inspiration from one another and are skilled in the art of reaching out . This has been a month filled with coffee chats, ocean plunges, and local adventures. Of   ‘What’s your story,’ ‘Please get involved,’ ‘I want to take you with me.’ People have told me that I look so happy–and I am–but on a deeper level, I am living as my most authentic self in this space, and I have not felt this elated since I was a child. I know for a fact that I’m in the right place at the right time. It has been dominos of decisions and coincidences that have brought us together. I am so glad to be in Santa Barbara, to be Jewish in Santa Barbara, and to be here with you.  So far, so soulsome , and looking forward to everything to come!  With love, Maya Kaye

The elimination of Yahya Sinwar days ago—over a year since October 7th—is the most recent in a series of high-profile killings of key figures in the so-called “Axis of Resistance”. The Islamic Republic’s 7-front war against Israel has inflicted death, sexual violence, displacement, and injury on hundreds of thousands of people, mostly civilians. The complex entanglement of Russia, Turkey, and the Arab States only enlarges what has proven to be the most engaging topic in global relations since the Iraq War.  Fully understanding Israel’s action, spirit, and motivation in this war must start with understanding Jewish history. A long series of historical catastrophes form a canon of intergenerational stories that are passed through religious tradition and continual reminders of the past. The cultural blueprint of the Jewish understanding of hardship comes in the story of Exodus: Jews come in search of better lives, are tolerated, and can flourish and rise to achievement—before they are resented, attacked and enslaved. This story repeats itself in our memory of the Babylonian captivity, under the Roman yoke, and across the Pale of Settlement. We each carry these stories. We pass them to our children—contributing to a uniquely powerful cultural memory. In Jewish memory, the most powerful stories center on singular antagonists who embody shared experiences of suffering and survival—figures who mark a history of resilience handed down through generations. These villains are not just enemies; they anchor a tradition that links individual and collective resolve. Each Haman, Tsar, and Eichmann forms part of an inherited knowledge and a tool for survival, turning past tragedy into the very fabric of the lived Jewish experience. This layering of memory hardens into a permanent, heritable culture. The mistakes that led to each villain's rise are remembered, alongside the successes that brought about their eventual fall. With this body of applicable oral history, the Jewish people have continued to survive. Pharoah is the archetype. Passover stories, passed from elder to younger for thousands of years, are etched into memory as the original oppression. They present a people with a history of survival—of lessons shaped through suffering and carried forward into a dark wilderness. His is the model of tyranny from which a deeply ingrained vigilance arose: a refusal to surrender identity, dignity, or hope, even under bondage, even for hundreds of years. The ancient exodus from Egypt was not merely a liberation but the inception of a body of knowledge that would resurface across centuries. Each retelling strengthens this foundation, instilling in every generation the understanding of what it takes to survive. After Pharoah, the Jewish people promised to Never Again be slaves, as they had been slaves in Egypt. Hitler came the closest, among a host of historical villains, to annihilating the Israelites. The holocaust was the logical conclusion of European antisemitism, in its waxing and waning faux-tolerance and street beatings. Where the pogroms of old Poland and Russia were mostly spontaneous, popular, and manic expressions of antisemitic hysteria, the Nazis had learned to mechanize, industrialize, and stimulate the nearly-endless European appetite for murdering Jews. In flames, rape, and gunfire Hitler’s men whipped a continent onto the march to total war. Contrary to popular sympathies, these men largely fought for the promise of ridding the world of Jews. But Hitler, too, was defeated. After five years, the Jews left alive were delivered at the hands of Soviet and American soldiers as an afterthought prize-of-war. No nation had offered to save Europe’s Jews—though many would go on to claim piecemeal credit.  After Hitler, the Jewish people promised to Never Again leave their lives in the hands of foreign soldiers and benevolent nations. Sinwar and his savages must represent a new lesson: Hamas’ October 7th was possible only through the complacency of the Jewish State. A decade of perceived military invincibility, combined with years of political unrest and a rapidly unwinding social fabric presented an opportunity to kill too good to pass up. For years, the army watched Gazan terrorists prepare for October 7th—running drills, building mock kibbutzim, and storming walls—and did nothing. For years, Israel’s perception of Hamas as a serious threat degraded into a condescending smugness that they would quietly fall, if not go out in a blaze of civil war against rival factions. Sinwar did not expect to succeed, of course. His plan was far crueler. From the beginning, the leaders of Hamas had planned to drag Israel into a years-long counter-insurgency in Gaza, combined with occupation politics and devastating international consequences. Pharoah had been a slaver defeated by the will of the Jews to just leave , and Hitler a mass-murderer defeated by their will to just survive . Sinwar is a butcher who was defeated by the Jewish will just to fight . Sinwar’s death was not a carefully-orchestrated special operation. It had not been a targeted assassination, nor a precise airstrike or luckily placed bomb. Sinwar’s death was statistical. Sinwar died as all Hamas’ men will: killed by regular Israeli infantry, operating under standard doctrine, with that assistance which was spontaneously available. Perhaps the lesson of this antagonist has already begun to sink in. Perhaps, after Sinwar, the Jewish people will promise to Never Again underestimate their enemies.