When the Helpers Need Help

By Michael Sidman

Published by eJewish Philanthrohy

In the days after our Altadena, Calif., house burned down in the Eaton Fire, my husband and I were overwhelmed by an outpouring of support. Family, friends and even complete strangers rallied around us, offering anything they could to help. Every gesture of kindness was moving, but one stood out. The rabbi from my childhood synagogue in Massachusetts sent a generous donation with a note: “I’d like to send you tzedakah [charity], half for you and half for you to give to others in need.” 

Even in a moment when I felt I had nothing, I was reminded that giving is an act of healing. Being able to help others while receiving help myself was empowering.

For seven years, I have served as the senior communications director at Jewish Family Service LA, Los Angeles’ oldest charity and a cornerstone of compassionate service. My role is to share the stories of this extraordinary organization and the people who work here: helpers dedicated to ensuring that the most vulnerable Angelenos, regardless of background, do not have to navigate life alone. Whether addressing hunger, domestic violence, mental health, aging, special needs or parenting challenges, JFSLA provides a lifeline, restoring dignity and self-determination one helping hand at a time.

One of the hardest concepts to convey to supporters is that any one of us could find ourselves in need. It is easy to assume that “the most vulnerable” are somehow different from us — people without jobs, families or stability. I once thought that, too. Until Jan. 7, when the Eaton Fire reduced everything I owned to ash. Overnight, I became a helper who needed help.

At first, I resisted the idea. My husband and I had good jobs. We were among the fortunate few in Los Angeles who had been able to buy a home. But as I mourned the loss of one community, another rose up around me: a network of people who simply wanted to help. Their generosity was as much for them as it was for me. In the weeks that followed, the board and staff of Jewish Family Service LA stood by me. A JFSLA social worker is helping me navigate FEMA. 

The very safety net I had spent years advocating for caught me. It was humbling. It was life-changing.

More than anything, returning to work at JFSLA has been a source of healing. In the wake of disaster, I have learned that nothing soothes the soul like the ability to help others. Loss does not strip us of our capacity to give. In many ways, it strengthens it. When we accept that life will place us in both positions — the helper and the helped — we begin to understand the profound role that community plays in every stage of our lives.

I am grateful to be part of JFSLA, an organization that embodies this truth. Every day, we provide a helping hand to individuals who have lost everything to wildfires. I never expected to become one of those people myself. But in loss, I have found something lasting: the unshakable belief that no one should have to face hardship alone. Because we are all, at some point in our lives, both the giver and the receiver of help. And in that shared humanity, we find our greatest strength.

 Michael Sidman is the senior communications director at Jewish Family Service LA.