My Family’s Experience at Epstein Hillel School
by Stacey Roller
January 2026
I wanted to share what Epstein Hillel School has meant to me and my family. My son has been at EHS since kindergarten and is now finishing sixth grade. It’s heartbreaking to think that this may be his last year here, because the school has been such a steady and meaningful part of our lives from the very beginning.
As a single parent, I’ve always found EHS to be a place of genuine warmth, respect, and understanding. The staff have supported not only my son but also me as a parent in ways that go far beyond what any school would be expected to do. When they learned that my younger son, who has autism, wouldn’t be able to attend because of his specialized needs, they still welcomed him as part of our family story. That simple gesture showed how deeply the EHS community cares about every child and household.
One of the things I’ve always loved most about EHS is the small class sizes. Coming from a similar school environment myself, I’ve always seen this as a blessing. The individualized attention my son receives is something you simply don’t find in larger schools. And it’s not just about academics—it’s about connection. The children at EHS interact across grade levels rather than being separated strictly by age. My son has a little buddy in kindergarten, and that friendship reflects the warmth and inclusiveness that define this school. The older kids look out for the younger ones, and that sense of family and belonging truly sets EHS apart.
EHS’s welcoming spirit also extends to families from many different backgrounds. Some of my son’s relatives, including my son’s paternal grandparents, come from different walks of life and were unfamiliar with EHS. Yet they were greeted openly and included with respect and warmth at every school event they attended. They enjoyed the grandparents events They’ve become some of the school’s biggest supporters—sharing photos and proud moments on Facebook and helping to introduce EHS to people who might never have known about it otherwise. That kind of bridge-building is part of what makes this community so special.
EHS has also shown incredible thoughtfulness in how it handles challenges. During COVID, for example, not every parent agreed on the best approach, but the school managed to keep everyone safe, respected, and united. That balance of care and leadership is something I’ve always admired.
One of my favorite memories was chaperoning a field trip to a community service project in Revere. On the car ride, the students had a lively political debate. They each shared strong opinions, listened to one another respectfully, and stepped out of the car still laughing and ready to volunteer. That moment captured what EHS teaches so well—how to think critically, listen with respect, and engage with kindness.
More recently, my family experienced a terrible personal loss. When I came to school to pick up my son, Natalie, the school therapist, helped me through that difficult moment with incredible compassion. She guided me in speaking with my son, supported both of us through grief, and continued to check in afterward. Since then, every visit to school brings comfort—the teachers, staff, and administrators always offer words of encouragement, understanding, and care.
EHS has also made it possible for my son to receive a meaningful Jewish education through generous scholarships and financial understanding. We’ve always been treated with dignity and respect—never made to feel different for needing assistance. That kind of empathy is rare and deeply appreciated.
Now, especially with antisemitism rising, schools like EHS are more important than ever. They don’t just teach academics—they nurture identity, resilience, and pride. They raise children who are secure in who they are and grounded in kindness, understanding, and Jewish values.
Through EHS, parents and students were given the opportunity to connect with kibbutz residents who were victims of the October 7 attacks through a meaningful pen pal exchange program and a personal visit. Once again, the parents became deeply involved, forming heartfelt friendships that would not have been possible without EHS. Programs like this are truly paramount — not only for students but also for parents and adults, both within and beyond our community. They help strengthen our shared identity with Israel and the Jewish people, provide meaningful personal connections, and serve as an important way to combat rising antisemitism through empathy, education, and friendship.
To me, EHS is more than a school. It’s a community of compassion and light, one that has touched every corner of our family’s life and even extended far beyond it. I’m so grateful for everything this school has given to us and to so many others.
Urgency and Hope in this Moment
by Emily & Todd Burt
January 23, 2026
January 23, 2026
Dear Fellow EHS Families,
Over the past several weeks, our community has faced one of the most difficult moments in our school’s history. The news about the uncertainty of EHS’s future has shaken all of us to the core. It’s only natural that we’ve felt grief, anger, sadness, and confusion, each of us processing it in our own way.
In the past month, many of us have met with EHS administration, board members, and the JCC to better understand how we arrived here and what the path forward might look like. While some questions remain unanswered, one thing is clear: we are at a critical turning point.
Thanks to the incredible dedication of our families and supporters, fundraising efforts are off to a strong start, with the goal of raising enough to support the school for the next four years, if enrollment remains strong. That “if” is everything. The future of EHS depends on us—the families who believe deeply in this community and in the profound importance of a Jewish education.
We understand that for many, this has been painful. Some feel hurt, mistrustful, or uncertain about recommitting without seeing concrete assurances. Others don’t have the luxury of choosing more time at EHS. For lower school families, now is the moment to decide whether we want to give EHS, and our children, the chance to thrive. The administration and board are listening. They welcome parents’ voices, ideas, and involvement, whether through committees, representation on the board, or shaping the educational future of our school. There is openness for change, but it can only happen if the school survives.
If not for this crisis, most of us wouldn’t think twice about enrolling our children again next year. But because of the uncertainty, we hesitate. Yet if there was ever a time to strengthen Jewish education and identity, it’s now. The formative years of our children shape who they are and who
they will become. EHS is more than a school; it’s a foundation for Jewish pride, character, and belonging.
In a world where Jewish identity often feels fragile, with Jews making up only 0.2% of the global population, the way we preserve our heritage and combat antisemitism is by raising children who know who they are, where they come from, and what they stand for. A Jewish day school
education gives them that strength, that pride, and that grounding.
Since December, our EHS community has felt like a family struggling to find its footing again, a bit broken and a bit unsure. But families come together in hard times. EHS is that family. The warmth, kindness, and love that exist within its walls are irreplaceable. Our children feel it every day, and it’s up to us to make sure they can continue to.
Let’s come together now, not only to save a school, but to preserve a home, a place where our children can learn, grow, and embrace their Jewish identity with pride.
With hope and unity,
Todd and Emily Burt