Why Do Jews Go Upstate?

I was sitting beside Zaidy on our family’s back porch Upstate, the one that’s been patched, repaired, and lovingly held together for the last forty years, with cold iced teas in hand when he turned to me and said, “You know… camp wasn’t always just camp.”

As he looked out over the yard, he fondly reminisced about what camp meant when he was a lanky, Jewish kid growing up. Not just the fun of it, but what it stood for. To him, camp was one of the places where he learned that being Jewish wasn’t something to quietly hide but rather it was something to be proud of. Looking back, he realized that his persistent sense of pride didn’t happen by accident. It was built into his childhood, one summer at a time.

He explained to me, over his now second or third glass, that the earliest summer camps weren’t created specifically for Jewish children. In the late 1800s, as the Industrial Revolution drew families into crowded manufacturing cities, parents began looking for a way to give their children a break from the noise, heat, and congestion of city life. Charitable organizations, many of them religious, opened overnight camps where children could spend their summers outdoors, breathing fresh air and experiencing a slower pace of life.

But as summer camp became more popular across America, specifically in upstate New York, Jewish families ran into a familiar reality.

Many camps simply weren’t welcoming to Jews. Antisemitism wasn’t unusual — it was woven into everyday life. So Jewish communities did what they’ve done throughout history: they created spaces of their own.

That’s when Jewish camps became much more than lakes, hiking trails, and campfires. They became places where children could celebrate Shabbos openly, sing Jewish songs, learn Hebrew, discover Jewish history, and build a connection to Israel and most importantly, to one another. Summer camp was where Jewish pride was formed and lingered until the next summer rolled around.

Different Jewish organizations developed camps that reflected their own philosophies. Zionist youth movements emphasized Hebrew, Jewish history, and love for our homeland. Other camps centered around Jewish literature, culture, and social responsibility. After World War II, Reform, Conservative, and Orthodox communities all expanded their own camps, recognizing how important they had become in raising the next generation of proud Jewish leaders.

As my grandfather talked, I couldn’t help but notice how fitting our setting was. We were sitting in upstate New York, a region once affectionately known as the Borscht Belt. It was in the beginning of the early 1900s when thousands of Jewish families escaped the summer heat of New York City for the Catskills, where Jewish-owned hotels, bungalow colonies, and camps flourished. It became a place where Jewish life wasn’t just accepted — it thrived. Families spent their summers together, lifelong friendships were formed, and children grew up surrounded by Jewish traditions and community. Even though many of those famous resorts are gone today, the spirit of the Borscht Belt still lingers in the camps, communities, and memories that continue to shape Jewish summers over a century later.

As I listened to Zaidy, I realized that when he remembers traveling upstate to attend his Jewish camp, he rarely talks about the activities, the songs or the sports. Instead, Zaidy vividly recalls the friendships that lasted decades, the counselors who believed in him, and the feeling that being Jewish was something to celebrate — not something to hide.

Then he smiled and said, “You know, the Rebbe understood that too.”

He told me about the summer of 1957, when the Lubavitcher Rebbe made the unusual trip from Crown Heights to visit Camp Gan Israel in the Catskills. Considering how rarely the Rebbe left Brooklyn, my grandfather said the visit showed just how important Jewish camp was to him.

Later that same summer, one of the camp counselors had a private audience with the Rebbe. Rather than talking about sports or activities, the Rebbe spoke about brachos. He encouraged the counselor to teach the children to really think about the words they were saying and the closeness each blessing creates with Hashem. “The Rebbe knew,” my grandfather said, “that what a child learns at camp doesn’t stay at camp. It stays with them for life.”

By the time our iced teas were empty, I understood what my grandfather had meant when he first said, “Camp wasn’t always just camp.”

It has always been about giving Jewish children a place to grow into themselves. The friendships, the confidence, the songs, the traditions, the mentors, the Jewish pride—those are the things they carry home long after the duffel bags are unpacked.

From all of us at Judaica.com, we wish you and your family a beautiful, meaningful, and inspiring summer.