The Tikvah Program at Camp Ramah in New England was the beginning of the complete intertwining of my professional path in special education with my involvement in the Jewish community.
When I was growing up, I thought that God lived at Camp Ramah. Ramah was my first experience praying every morning, and later three times a day, and in the quiet moments of the Amidah, I discovered that I could talk to God.
I’m still a little bit on cloud nine from Sunday night! I shrieked with excitement when I first heard about the possibility of an event centered on Broadway stars and Ramah alumni Ben Platt and Caissie Levy, and that excitement mixed heavily with anxiety and nerves when I ultimately agreed to perform at the same […]
We all remember our last night as campers at Ramah. Whether you were in Nivonim, Gesher, Alonim, or Machon, something about that last night made it feel like your life was ending.
Camp Ramah in New England’s alumnus Rabbi Rob Dobrusin wrote about a memory of his time at Ramah on his blog. It was the custom at Ramah that each bunk would invite someone to come in to the bunk at night when the kids were in bed to tell a story, discuss something with them, sing […]
In the course of my junior year at Hebrew University, I met dozens of Ramahniks from across the United States and Canada and was impressed with their common commitment to Jewish life, as well as by their unbridled enthusiasm about Ramah.
A camper at Ramah Berkshires (1966–1971), a counselor at Berkshires and Poconos (1973–1976), and then a yo’etz and educator at New England (1993–2000), my memories of Ramah span three phases of my life: childhood, young adulthood, and fatherhood.
I was sixteen when I first attended a Ramah camp. It was an eye-opening experience for me. It was the beginning of more than twenty summers in which I thrived at four Ramah camps, not to mention an occasional Shabbat at Nyack as a Jewish Theological Seminary ( JTS) student.
I grew up on Long Island in a relatively assimilated home. My parents went to the local Conservative synagogue three days a year. Our home was not kosher, yet my mother lit Shabbat candles each Friday night, often after getting home late from the family paint store.
I started my twenty-five years at Ramah in the summer of 1951 as a junior counselor at Ramah in the Poconos. My senior counselor was Yochanan Muffs, z”l. On the other side of the bunk, the senior counselor was Samuel Schafler, z”l, later to become president of Hebrew College.