The Charlotte Jewish News- April 2026- Page 9
The Final Cut: The Exodus Story and the Power of Cinema
BBYO: Why Joy Matters for Jewish Teens
By Zack Tabachnikoff
At Passover, we talk about four children: The wise one, the questioner, the simple one and the one who doesn’ t yet know how to ask.
For thousands of years, that framework has reminded us that Jewish life must make room for every type of learner, every personality, and every stage of growth.
This year, watching our delegation at BBYO’ s International Convention( IC), I saw those four children come to life – not around a Seder table, but in a convention center filled with over 3,500 Jewish teens.
The Wise Teen. This is the teen asking big questions about Israel, identity, and community. The one staying late after sessions to debate ideas. The one who wants to understand not just what we do, but why we do it. We have such teens leading chapters in Charlotte right now. Presidents managing boards of their peers. Leaders overseeing thousands in budgets. Teens who think strategically with intention about growth, engagement, and legacy. The IC fuels them. It sharpens them. It gives them global context for the impact that their leadership can have.
The Questioner. The teen who challenges norms. Who
By Elizabeth Johnson
Every spring, as Passover approaches, Jewish families return to a story they know by heart.
The Israelites are enslaved in Egypt. Moses rises reluctantly as a leader. A people walk into the wilderness with little more than faith and memory, carrying with them the hope of freedom.
For thousands of years, Jews have gathered around the Seder table to tell the story of the Exodus. Not as distant history, but as something living and immediate. The Haggadah reminds us that in every generation, each person is invited to see themselves as if they personally left Egypt.
It is an ancient story. It is also, in many ways, an unmistakably cinematic one.
The Passover narrative contains nearly every element filmmakers are drawn to: moral tension, sweeping landscapes, flawed leaders, moments of fear, courage, and defiance. At its center lies a question that has animated storytelling for centuries. What does it mean to be free?
Hollywood has returned to the Exodus story more than once. Cecil B. DeMille’ s 1956 epic“ The Ten Commandments” remains the most recognizable interpretation, with Charlton Heston’ s Moses confronting Pharaoh beneath towering temple walls. The film is grand and unapologetically theatrical, but its central struggle of tyranny versus liberation is timeless.
Decades later, DreamWorks revisited the story with“ The Prince of Egypt,” a remarkably thoughtful animated retelling featuring Sandra Bullock and Jeff Goldblum. With its sweeping score and striking visual design, the film managed something rare: it translated an ancient religious narrative into modern cinematic language while preserving its emotional depth. The moment when the Red Sea parts still carries quiet awe.
But Passover is not only about biblical history. At its heart, the holiday asks something more demanding of us. It asks us to recognize the Exodus story wherever it appears.
Many of the most powerful films ever made are, in their own way, variations on that same narrative: individuals confronting systems of power, struggling toward dignity, and searching for a path out of darkness.
Steven Spielberg’ s“ Schindler’ s List” is one such film. It is not a Passover story in a literal sense, yet its emotional architecture echoes the themes of the holiday. In the face of unimaginable cruelty, small acts of courage begin to accumulate.
pushes for new program ideas. Who asks how we can make Jewish life more relevant, more inclusive, more impactful. Across Charlotte, these teens are rewriting traditions, launching new initiatives, and refusing to accept“ because we’ ve always done it that way” as an answer. The IC validates them. It shows them that innovation is not rebellion; rather, it’ s an expectation.
The Simple Teen. The one who may not have all the answers. The one who just knows they want to belong.
These teens might walk into their first chapter meeting unsure. They may not see themselves as leaders yet. But then they walk into the IC. They hear thousands of teens singing the same words, cheering the same values, proudly wearing Jewish chains and merch without hesitation. Then something clicks. Belonging comes first. Confidence follows.
And finally, The One Who Doesn’ t Yet Know How to Ask.
These are the teens still figuring it out. The ones exploring what Judaism means to them. The ones who haven’ t found the words for their questions yet. The IC creates space for them to discover those questions safely. It shows them that Jewish identity is expansive, that there’ s room
Liberation arrives slowly, painfully, and never without unbearable cost.
Other films explore the Exodus idea through migration and reinvention. They tell stories of people leaving everything behind in pursuit of a life defined not by fear, but by possibility. Movies like“ Brooklyn,” which follows a young Irish immigrant finding her footing in America, capture that fragile space between the past we leave and the future we hope to build.
Even films that never mention oppression often orbit the same central question: Who holds power? Who challenges it? And what responsibility comes with freedom once it is finally within reach?
The Israelites leave Egypt, but the wilderness lies ahead. Freedom demands structure, responsibility, and a shared sense of purpose. The work of building a just society begins only after the sea has parted. Cinema understands this, too. The most memorable films rarely conclude with victory alone. Instead, they linger in the complicated aftermath. Specifically, the moment when characters must decide what kind of world they will create next.
Passover offers another reminder that resonates deeply
for growth, and that no one is expected to arrive fully formed.
In Eastern Region BBYO, we are incredibly proud of our numbers – and rightfully so. Sending over 130 teens to IC is no small feat. It reflects commitment, partnership, and momentum.
But what makes me even prouder is this:
IC works because it speaks to all four children. It speaks to the president managing a 200- teen ecosystem. It speaks to the freshman attending their first international convention. It speaks with the art of filmmaking. Storytelling itself is sacred work.
At the Seder table, the evening unfolds through narrative. Questions are asked. Memories are revisited. The past is retold so that it remains present.
Movies, in their own way, do something similar. They preserve moments of human experience and allow us to inhabit lives beyond our own. A powerful film invites us not just to watch a story unfold, but to see ourselves inside it and ask what we would do.
As Passover arrives this year, it may be worth revisiting one of those films that explore courage, freedom, or moral choice. It does not have to be a biblical epic. It may be a quiet drama, a
to the innovator. It speaks to the quiet observer.
Passover reminds us that our story must be told in a way that every child can see themselves in it. And the IC proves that Jewish teen life is doing exactly that. When our teens boarded planes home, they weren’ t just returning from a convention. They were returning with a new perspective. With pride. With the clarity that they are part of something much bigger than Charlotte – and that Charlotte matters within something global. historical story, or even an animated classic watched with children curled up beside you on the couch.
What matters is the reminder that stories shape the way we understand the world.
For thousands of years, Jews have retold the story of the Exodus because its lessons remain urgent. Freedom is fragile. Justice requires vigilance. And the responsibility to build something better never truly ends.
The best films remind us of that, too. Some stories entertain us for two hours and disappear. Yet others, and the best ones, stay with us and quietly shape the way we see the world long after the credits roll.
The Four Children aren’ t ancient archetypes. They’ re living in our Jewish community right here at home in Charlotte. And if IC showed us anything, it’ s this: no matter which child you are today, there is a place for you in this movement. And here in Charlotte, that place is stronger than ever.
To learn more about BBYO, please contact Zachary Tabachnikoff at ztabachnikoff @ bbyo. org.