Today’s “Four Questions” interviewee probably needs no introduction. I mean, there’s no way you guys don’t already follow the inimitable Whitney Fisch of @JewHungry. But just in case, here’s a quick rundown: Whitney is a social worker, the current Executive Director of Hillel at Miami University of Ohio, and a self-proclaimed “recovering food blogger.” I’ve been following her on Instagram for years now, and though it’s kind of hard to narrow down the reasons why I love her account so much, I’d have to start with the fact that she’s just…honest. You can count on Whitney to share the joyful stuff, the not-so-joyful stuff, and everything in between—all with humor and nuance and cute kids in tow. And then, you know, there’s food.
A pretty wonderful combo, if you ask me.
Below, find my interview with Whitney and get ready to fall for her even more than you already have. (I should add that we actually conducted this interview in August, and I’m only getting around to posting it today because, well…2020. In any event, I can’t wait for you to read it and get to know her better.)
Q
You keep it so real on your Instagram, which I love. How do you balance the fun, lighter stuff with all of the darker topics?
A
I’ll be honest: I don’t know. What I mean is, I don’t have it all figured out in a formal way. I’m not that organized when it comes to my social media (laughs). I really wish I were. Most of the time, it’s just…whatever’s authentically happening in my life. I post about what I’m concerned about, what I’m excited about, what’s bringing me joy, what’s bringing me down. I try not to overthink it. And I think what you’re seeing is just one person’s journey through the ups and downs of life, of being Jewish, of being a woman, of being an empath.
I do wonder sometimes how it all comes across. Because I’ll be honest: I’m not always optimistic, and I don’t tack on a layer of positivity to everything I post. Especially now that I’ve got this job. I sometimes wonder if the fact that I do get scared, that I’m not always feeling brave or sure…I wonder if that comes across in my Instagram Stories and posts. If it does, that’s okay. I’m okay with appearing a little disgruntled or terrified, because that’s what I’m authentically feeling.
You know, I’ve taken a position [as the Executive Director at Hillel at Miami University] where I’m part of a marginalized community in Southwest Ohio, working in a predominantly white institution. Of course, most everyone we met has been super friendly, but there are also the people who look at my husband and me like we’re nuts when we tell them our kids’ Hebrew names. And then there’s the feeling of hanging a mezuzah on a street block where you know you’re a minority identity. And generally worrying about my kids. And, well, it’s just a lot of little things to think about.
So sometimes I do feel on edge, or aggravated, or pessimistic, or tired. It’s just authentically where I’m at. If I’m going to share anything, I’m going to share it all. I’m going to share the truth.
One thing I aim not to share—or to be—is apathetic. Because I think we’ve all been seeing apathy more and more lately, and it’s really concerning. I’m talking about apathy of any kind: towards antisemitism, towards racism, towards any sort of hatred. It’s scary to feel that someone’s social currency matters more than their ability to be empathetic.
Q
Tell me a little about this incredible new job. What are you most excited about—and what do you foresee being the biggest challenge?
A
There’s a lot to be excited about, for sure. When I got the job, I was living in Los Angeles—so it’s been quite a change with the move to Ohio and the adjustment to the new role. We’ve got about 1,000 Jewish students out of the 14,000 or so on campus, and my goal is to have thoughtful and intentional engagement with all of them.
I was actually just meeting with the dean today, and I told her that I really want to create a safe space for Jewish students on this campus. We’re a vulnerable population, you know? We need to make sure we’re letting all of these young adults know that they’re not alone. Just like in so many other places around the country and world, there’s bound to be proselytizing; there’s bound to be antisemitism, anti-Black sentiment, anti-immigrant sentiment, and general anti-“other” sentiment… You name it, we have to be ready for it. That’s the reality of leading a Jewish institution in the world today.
What I want to do is to create a contained space for the Jewish students here while also making sure that they don’t exist in a bubble. We’re not going to be able to challenge antisemitism unless we’re out there in the community, changing the false narratives about who we are.
And as far as challenges, well…there are so many these days. For starters, I think there’s a real misunderstanding of what a Hillel does. I think people aren’t totally clear about its role is on campus. In the ’70s, ’80s, ’90s, and so on, Hillel was the place you went to, you know, get free food and meet people and have a good time. Then things changed. There are so many organizations out there now coming after Hillel, trying to vilify us. But we’re not a political institution. We exist to engage jewish students in their Jewish journey—whether that’s ethnically, religiously, culturally, or educationally. And making that clear in the face of so much baseless hatred and misinformation is difficult. It’s why Jewish leaders are having to work harder than ever. And it’s pretty clear that that’s the road ahead of me too.
Q
What keeps you going, even on the hardest days—as a Jewish leader, as a business executive, as a mom, and as an entrepreneur?
A
I mean, where to begin (laughs)? There are so many things that inspire me—episodes of New Girl, Schitts Creek, pretty cakes, those amazing bagel macarons you shared once, the creativity of others. I could go on and on.
But what inspires me more than anything, I think, is this desire to educate. I don’t want my own kids to have to deal with the things we’ve had to deal with. I genuinely don’t want any adolescent anywhere to feel othered. And I think the path toward a world without painful, harmful other-ing is through education.
At the same time, I don’t want to create protective bubbles around kids. I think that’s doing them a disservice. You infantilize them when you don’t allow them to feel negative things, when you don’t allow them to build resilience. In a privileged community, we tend to not want our kids to feel anything negative, and it backfires.
But there’s a balance, I think, and finding that balance is what motivates me. I want to figure out: What’s the work I can do so that when my kids are older, their work looks different? Maybe we can’t erase all the bad stuff out there, but can we lessen it? Can we have them not focus on these same avoidable, human-created problems?
Q
If you had to pick just one, what would you say has been your favorite creative project—either from JewHungry or beyond?
A
I’ve done so many fun recipes over on JewHungry, but honestly, the thing I’m most proud of are the connections and friendships I’ve made through that platform. People like you, Amy Becker from What Jew Wanna Eat, Adeena Sussman, Sam Adler…all of these amazing women who are doing incredible things and are also there to support each other. That’s been so awesome to see.
Another personal project that I’m really proud of was the development of WhitneyFisch.com—the site itself, the entrepreneurial drive behind it, and everything else that platform stands for. At 38 years old, after 10 years as a school counselor, I suddenly had a brand-new career goal. I decided to take my expertise and bring it to new organizations, offering workshops and trainings on topics like school-based mental health delivery options, reporting suspected abuse, gender and sexual diversity, body positivity, suicidal ideation, and all these other consulting services. I was able to branch out in that way, all on my own, because someone just happened to believe in me and gave me a chance. And it was everything I didn’t know I wanted to do.
Then, Covid hit. I was building momentum, I had worked really hard to be an expert in the room on topics that are near and dear to my heart, and then, you know, the world ended a little bit. But I was so, so proud of the work I’d been doing—the amount of knowledge I’d gained and my understanding of the parent-child relationship. And I hope to be able to continue doing that consulting work in the virtual world just as soon as I come up for air.