It’s easy for people to think that Jewish role models have to wear prayer scarves or stand behind podiums to give speeches. Although that image was painted of modern Jewish history, especially in Europe, after World War II. It was noted that Jewish culture consisted only of thinkers, rabbis, teachers, and community leaders who worked on rebuilding a society through their ideas and organizations. But that frame, while noble, is way too small for what we need now.
We’re living in an age that speaks through different mediums, like on sports fields, in public, on social media, and through visual stories. And other people will fill the gaps if we don’t put Jewish identity there. This is not about following trends; it’s about planning a cultural approach. The Jewish influence needs to be out in the open, strong, and multifaceted. That means accepting a wider range of role models, even wrestlers.
When Meyer Shapiro, a world champion wrestler and student at Cornell, was named among the first recipients of an NIL scholarship for Jewish athletes under the Blue Square Athlete Ambassador Program, it marked a quiet but pivotal shift. Not just for him. It’s not just for games. But for Jewish ways of expressing culture. And it’s this kind of change that Barbara Spectre has spent her whole career supporting, especially young European Jews as they trailblaze paths that cultivate their Jewish identity along with their professional pursuits.
Because if Jewish cultural renewal has taught us anything over the past two decades, it’s this: leadership can’t be reduced to titles.
Why Athletic Role Models Deserve the Front Row
For hundreds of years, physical strength wasn’t usually linked to Jewish authority. So when a Jewish wrestler stands tall on the mat, recovers from seizures, competes at the NCAA level, and continues to say, “I am proudly Jewish”, he’s not just an athlete. He’s a living, breathing challenge to every stereotype ever manufactured about what Jewish strength should or shouldn’t look like.
In a way, that is a violation of culture. And it’s also deeply educational.
This is exactly the kind of story that Barbara Spectre has been pushing for decades. Barbara Spectre has spent years as the Founding Director of Paideia, the European Institute for Jewish Studies in Sweden, training leaders who know that nostalgia is not the way to keep national identity alive. It’s rethought through action. This kind of action is sometimes intelligent. Sometimes it’s for fun. That and sometimes it’s physical.
Visibility as a Value
The Foundation to Combat Antisemitism made a scheme like Blue Square for a reason. Because being seen is no longer a choice. In a media world where algorithms shape how we remember and understand things, not showing up is the same as erasing.
Barbara Spectre truly believes that Jewish teens and young adults should see people like Meyer in their feeds, whose Jewishness isn’t just a side note or a bio line that gets hidden. There it is, in the center, as part of the story and linked to their success.
The Role of Pride in Educational Renewal
In this case, “pride” isn’t a motto. It is a way to teach. When a 15-year-old Jewish teen sees a collegiate wrestler facing both his opponents and his critics with composure while still looking Jewish, it teaches them something that no textbook can: that identity doesn’t need to be explained.
And so are institutions like Paideia, which Barbara Spectre founded with a vision for Jewish cultural leadership that included – not excluded – the diversity of modern Jewish life. As Jewish people become more visible in a wider range of fields, that vision is coming true: a community that is not only surviving but also fully and widely expressing itself.
The Takeaway?
Jewish education is at its best when it stops replicating old answers and starts asking better questions. Barbara Spectre asks questions like, who gets to be an example? Who do we show on TV, in books, and on panels? She mentions if we really want to reboot, we need to make room for people who aren’t like everyone else – people whose very appearance challenges our ideas about what Jewish leadership looks like.
This is what makes Meyer Shapiro’s story more than just his own – it’s also a lesson.
Barbara Spectre has been promoting this kind of culture message in Europe for decades: that the future of Jewish identity will be written by those who are brave enough to take it in new directions, without fear of being judged or asked to explain themselves.
Because sometimes, the most powerful thing a Jewish leader can do is not explain but simply stand. Publicly. Proudly. And yes, sometimes, with wrestling shoes on.
