Breaking Barriers and Building Bonds in the Bronx
About once a month, twenty students from SAR High School and twenty from Comp Sci High (CSH), a public charter school in the Bronx, come together to bridge a distance of only a few miles but often worlds apart in experience and understanding. CSH, with its predominantly Latino and Black student body, and SAR, a Modern Orthodox Jewish high school, rarely intersect despite being a stone’s throw away from each other. The SAR-CSH intercultural group, now aptly named “Rising As One,” has given me – an SAR High School senior – and everyone involved a unique chance to learn from those we might otherwise never meet.
Shortly after the program began, our conversations moved past surface-level introductions. After one joint volunteer session at a local food pantry, we talked about stereotypes and hate, how we each experience them, and how they follow us, even in small interactions. One CSH student, Puerto Rican and lighter-skinned than her mom, shared how people on the street assumed her mom was the family’s nanny. It’s a story that could easily sound minor—maybe even trivial—to an outsider, but hearing it first hand made me realize how deeply people’s assumptions can cut into the most personal parts of your life.
As a Jew, prejudice is an ongoing experience for me and my community. I’m familiar with outright antisemitic encounters or the way strangers may feel entitled to give unsolicited opinions on Israel when they see my kippah. Many of my SAR peers shared such stories, and we connected with our CSH friends over our experiences as members of marginalized groups. These conversations became reminders of the shared struggle that minorities face, even when our experiences aren’t identical. As Jews, we have a responsibility not only to understand our own forms of persecution but to recognize and stand up against what others experience as well. Solidarity against other forms of hate does not happen automatically; we must seek opportunities to learn from, engage with, and listen to others and their experiences.
For many CSH students, we are the only Jewish peers their age they have ever met (although they do have some Jewish teachers), and this program provides the only time they can connect with someone Jewish their own age. And for many of us from SAR, this program is one of the few chances to meaningfully interact with people outside our community. In this sense, the simplest part of the program became the most eye-opening: at every meeting, SAR provides kosher food for lunch with a Jewish faculty member from CSH bringing the usual “snack bags” of Bissli, Paskez chocolate, and other Jewish staples. For us, these are the typical snacks we grew up with. But for our CSH friends, questions immediately arose: “What’s kosher?” “What’s in these snacks?” It turned into this oddly perfect setup for honest conversations about our traditions, values, and the importance of certain practices to us.
These exchanges about food—a seemingly minor thing—became a bridge. By explaining our practices and the meanings behind these choices, we break down the stereotypes that might accompany being Jewish and open up about the uniqueness that defines our culture. For many of us, this was the first time our customs were questioned with genuine curiosity, without judgment or assumption. It turned into a back-and-forth that made a difference, letting us see each other beyond typical, narrow, and often harmful narratives.
Building on our group’s bonding over cuisine, we decided to collaborate on a joint cookbook and cook a few recipes: a project where we shared important dishes reflecting our families or culture—challah, kugel, jollof rice, and more. There’s something beautifully unique about cooking as a group—about each person sharing their culture or identity through something comfortable and familiar. Food breaks down barriers in ways that conversation sometimes can’t; shared meals create intimate spaces for people to share their pride for where they come from.
Our activities with CSH extended to interfaith dialogue; during Ramadan, we visited the HIR synagogue in Riverdale, where a CSH student shared her experience fasting and her connection to the holiday, followed by Rabbi Steven Exler speaking about Orthodox Shabbat services. Hearing the student talk about her beliefs with such openness was grounding. Even as someone who tries to stay open-minded, I realized I had been seeing people through my own frame of reference, assuming I knew more about their experiences than I actually did.
And while the structured events and conversations are meaningful, the moments in between are just as important. Almost immediately after starting the program, the natural boundaries between our two cohorts began to fade. Our conversations moved beyond the organized topics and into more colloquial conversations: music, pop culture, our weekend plans, etc. These interactions are the glue that holds everything together, turning this program from a monthly meeting into an authentic part of my life. The heavier topics we discuss in this program—racism, antisemitism, etc.—cannot be meaningful without vulnerability and a sharing of our true selves. Casual conversations and the building of real friendships are thus crucial to the success of our activities; we feel comfortable with one another, allowing us to be honest and genuine in our most important dialogues.
I have recently been inspired by Jewish philosopher Martin Buber’s I-Thou theory after reading his book I and Thou. Buber believes we must accept others on their own terms and that we can reach mutual understanding only through dialogue—where we let go of judgments and meet others with openness. Our experiences with Comp Sci High have created spaces where I-Thou encounters can occur and taught me the grave importance of seeking opportunities to prevent insularity within our communities. We must be open to honest discourse, even when doing so is difficult, and create inviting spaces where we can listen, connect, and disagree with others.
For the past year, working with my friends and peers at Comp Sci High has been one of the most important and rewarding experiences of my life. These experiences taught me the value of leaving comfort zones, accepting criticism, and embracing sensitive discussions. As Jews, we must continue this pursuit; only through letting down our personal and communal walls while maintaining our sense of self can we move towards a more empathetic, peaceful world.
