Ami, my people.

Ami doesn’t just reflect the brotherhood of AZA, but something much bigger.

The Jewish people have been subject to exile for thousands of years, which has resulted in a miraculous, unique, and vast diaspora that spans across six continents.

When people are forced to move away from their homeland, they often assimilate, take on new religions to avoid persecution, marry outside of the faith, or, sadly, reduce the amount of visual or practiced Judaism that has been passed on for generations.

This combination creates brand new groups and languages that make it seem as though our faith, rooted so far in the past, is still present, yet it also takes away from the connection with the Jews we walk around with today.

However, the one thing that can unite many is simply social connection. Whether that is attending a Pesach Seder or a Shabbat dinner, nevertheless it utilizes common tradition regardless of the way it's practiced, to ultimately bring people together.

But for a world where connection is much harder to find or relate to for the younger generation, especially after socially impactful events like COVID, or examples of modern attacks of increased antisemitism on the Jewish people after October 7th, some events like formal dinners don’t work. 

This is where AZA re-enters.

AZA is our version of sit-down dinners and connections.

AZA is the place we spend long nights laughing and forgetting about what weighs us down.

AZA is where we express our pride as young Jews in a world full of hate and misinformation.

Ami, my people.

My people, by definition, is a term used to group special people whom you share a deep sense of belonging, connection, and a shared identity to.

Ami describes who my brother Alephs are to me and all that I experience along with them.

Yes, they may share a common belief in G-d, and that to me is important as a Jew, but sometimes it's less about what we believe and more about what we feel together.

They are my people, because they celebrate my successes, sing with me while the candles burn, and question my journey, not as a form of judgement, but something to retain and add to their path.

Again, through millennia, Jews have been displaced and persecuted, but through faith and love, have risen and survived, whilst the empires, nations and dynasties who expelled them, have fallen.

Ami, my people.

And to my achim-my brothers, and another 102 years, I say todah rabah.