Parsha Toldot: What Isaac Can Teach Our Children About Resilience

This week's Torah portion, Parshat Toldot, tells a short story about digging wells that has stayed with me all week. Isaac sets out to reopen the wells his father Abraham had dug, which the Philistines had filled. When his servants dig a new well, the local herders claim the water as their own, so Isaac names it Esek, meaning contention. The next well is fought over too, and he calls it Sitnah, meaning hostility. Isaac does not stay to fight; he moves on and digs again, and this time no one quarrels. He names that well Rehoboth, meaning open spaces, declaring, "For now the Lord has granted us ample space, and we can increase in the land."

Isaac's resilience was not about winning every battle or pretending the obstacles did not exist; it was about his willingness to keep going. When one path was blocked, he found another, and he did not let any single setback decide his future. As the father of three children, now in their late teens and twenties, I see a lesson there for how we think about the next generation.

My children's generation has lived through things few of us imagined. A global pandemic upended their schooling and their friendships. They have come of age amid deep political polarization and a public discourse that too often rewards anger over understanding. For Jewish young people, the resurgence of antisemitism has raised hard questions about who they are and where they belong.

As parents, our instinct is to worry and to make their paths easier. I feel that instinct too, but lately I have been wondering whether we spend enough time reminding our children how much they have already overcome.

The challenges young people face are real, and resilience does not mean ignoring pain or simply moving on. We should also be careful not to define an entire generation by the adversity it has faced. These same young people adapted to a world that changed overnight and found ways to reconnect when the world forced them apart. They kept up with school and rebuilt friendships while figuring out their place in a world that rarely felt predictable. They did not choose their circumstances, but they found ways to navigate them.

Perhaps we need to spend less time telling them how difficult the world is and more time reminding them that they can meet it. That does not mean pulling back our support; it means balancing our instinct to protect with our responsibility to empower. Instead of trying to remove every obstacle, we can help them build the confidence to handle the ones they will inevitably face. Instead of only asking whether they are okay, we can remind them of the hard things they have already come through. As a father, I want my children to know I will always be there for them. I also want them to know they can find their own way and discover their own Rehoboth.

As CEO of The J, I see this responsibility reaching far beyond our homes. The J creates an environment where young people discover their capabilities and find a place to belong. From our Goldberg Early Childhood Education Center and J-Performing Arts to our partnership with the B'nai B'rith Youth Organization and beyond, the J offers spaces where the future of our community feels safe enough to take risks, supported enough to fail, and confident enough to try again.

Isaac's story also reminds us that every generation has its own digging to do. We inherit wells from those who came before us, but we cannot assume they will stay open. We have to clear them, maintain them, and sometimes dig new ones.

We cannot promise our children that their wells will never be filled or that their paths will never be blocked. What we can do is make sure they know they have the strength to keep digging. They have already shown us their resilience; sometimes, they just need a reminder.

Todd