Miami’s Leo Martin March of the Living
(The Miami March)

Let’s be honest: sometimes it takes losing something to truly appreciate what we had. For many of us, gratitude only kicks in when the Wi-Fi drops… or worse, the phone drops (!), and we brace ourselves for the worst only to flip it over and realize it’s not broken. That moment of relief? That’s modern-day gratitude. On a more serious note, when health, mobility, or time slip away, the fragility of these things becomes starkly clear. At 50, facing a terminal neurological condition (PSP – Progressive Supranuclear Palsy) and having just experienced the first need to use a wheelchair, life has come into sharper focus. And I can honestly say I feel enormous gratitude for the blessings I have and continue to receive. It’s a perspective shift forced upon me one I’m not sure I would have arrived at on my own.

When people ask how I found myself at CAJE, I usually smile and say, “It was the natural next step.” But the truth is, this journey began long before job titles, consulting work, or doctoral programs. It began in a public high school classroom in Tampa - with bagels, orange juice, and a lot of heart. I was raised in a family of six by traditional Jewish South African parents who instilled in us a deep sense of pride in our Jewish identity. We didn’t attend Jewish day school, but Judaism was part of everything - Shabbat dinners, Hebrew school, Israel bonds tucked into birthday cards. In high school, I became president of the Jewish Awareness Club. Every meeting came with “bagels and Jews” - a playful misprint that stuck, and one that reflected the joy and authenticity of our gatherings.