“Ma nishtanah halailah hazeh mikol haleilot?” - Why is this night different from all other nights?

Passover - or Pesach, as I grew up calling it - was always my favourite Jewish festival. I’ve often wondered why Seder Night felt so different from all other nights, beyond just the famous question.

Perhaps it was the ritual of sitting around the Seder table—a ceremonial meal that marks the beginning of Passover—where we retold the story of the Exodus: how our ancestors were freed from slavery in Egypt and journeyed toward Canaan. Maybe it was the quirky symbolic foods: the dry crunch of Matzah (unleavened bread), the sting of Maror (bitter herbs), the sweetness of Charoset (a paste symbolising mortar), all meant to connect us, viscerally, to our people's story of captivity and liberation.

As a child, it all felt unique and exciting. But as I’ve grown older, I’ve come to understand why Passover means so much to me - and how it shapes my life and work at Solutions Not Sides. It boils down to three things: questioning, community, and the pursuit of freedom.

1. Questioning

One of the central rituals of the Seder is the youngest person asking the Ma Nishtana—the Four Questions. It isn’t just tradition; it’s a declaration. Jewish tradition teaches us to question, to challenge the status quo, and to seek meaning through inquiry.

This spirit of questioning is something I carry with me every day. At Solutions Not Sides, we create space for young people to ask difficult questions - especially when it comes to identity, conflict, peace and justice. In every school, every training session, every workshop with our Israeli and Palestinian peacebuilders, we encourage dialogue without fear. No question is dismissed. No potential solution is too "out of the box" to explore.

“Ma nishtanah halailah hazeh mikol haleilot?”—Why is this night different from all other nights? Because on this night, we lean into uncomfortable truths. And from that courage, change begins.

2. Family, Community, and Coming Together

For thousands of years, the Jewish people have experienced displacement - Babylonian exile, Roman destruction, the Spanish Inquisition, the Holocaust, and the expulsion of Jews from many Arab lands. In every corner of the diaspora, the Seder table became a sanctuary - a place to gather, to remember, and to say together: “L’Shana Haba’ah B’Yerushalayim” - Next year in Jerusalem.

That collective sense of belonging and continuity gives me strength. Sitting with my family each year, I feel part of a people with a shared past - and a shared hope for the future.

At SNS, we bring this value into our educational work. We introduce students to the layered histories of Jewish, Muslim, and Christian communities and their diverse connections to the Holy Land. We remind them - and ourselves - that no single story holds the monopoly on truth. Multiple narratives can coexist. Recognising this is not a threat to identity; it is a foundation for peace. 

3. Freedom and Liberation

This is, perhaps, the heart of Passover. When we recite “Avadim Hayinu”—“We were slaves”, I don’t hear metaphor. I hear memory. Solidarity. Responsibility.

Our tradition tells us not just to remember slavery, but to act in the world as if we, too, are emerging from it. Jewish history is filled with resilience in the face of oppression, but it is also filled with examples of Jews standing alongside others seeking justice - whether in Selma, in the former Soviet Union, or beyond. Not at the expense of our own struggles with antisemitism, but because of them.

This legacy is what binds me to our core values at Solutions Not Sides: nonviolence, equality for all, and a rejection of hatred. These values don’t belong to one people - they’re for all people. Because we were slaves, we work for freedom. Because we know exile, we build bridges. Because we remember, we act.

As Passover begins, I recommit to these principles. I will continue to question and challenge. I will honour my people's history and stand with them. And I will continue to be inspired by our story - not to seek comfort in the past, but to pursue peace and justice in the present, particularly in Palestine and Israel. 

That is what our tradition asks of us. And that is what it means to live the spirit of Tikkun Olam: to repair the world.