When friends tried to predict where Golda Katz would settle after moving to Israel, Jerusalem wasn’t their first guess. Most people suggested Tel Aviv would be a better fit. They had their reasons. The 25-year-old from Monsey, New York, doesn’t match what many consider the typical Jerusalem newcomer profile.
“I have a lot of tattoos and piercings, and I’m kind of alternative looking,” Katz explained. Her background includes growing up in an ultra-Orthodox household, later attending public school, studying abroad in Taiwan, and spending years involved in progressive political movements in the United States.
Her perspective shifted during a trip to Israel following the October 7 attacks. While in Jerusalem on Independence Day, Katz encountered another young woman from Monsey who had also experienced the loss of friendships and political communities after the Hamas assault. The encounter resonated deeply because it marked the first time she met someone whose experience mirrored her own.
“I never met someone who looked like me, who was proud of being Jewish and a proud Zionist and who had the same experience,” Katz shared.
The conversation that followed included words that continue to stay with her. “Goldie, you need to make Aliyah,” the woman advised. “You will find your people here.” That statement transformed the concept of relocating to Israel from abstract to concrete for Katz. “If I met her after just one day in Israel, I’ll definitely meet more people like her,” she reasoned.
Katz completed her immigration to Israel in July 2025 and chose Jerusalem as her home. The decision caught some people off guard. “A lot of people told me because of how I look that I would suit Tel Aviv,” she noted. “I look like a very Tel Aviv type.” However, Jerusalem offered something Tel Aviv couldn’t provide. “There’s just something so special about Jerusalem,” Katz observed. “The people there are authentic, and they’re real.”
New statistics from Nefesh B’Nefesh reveal that Jerusalem has maintained its appeal for North American immigrants throughout the war period. The organization reports that more than 1,000 people have relocated to the city since the previous Jerusalem Day, representing a diverse group spanning young singles, families, and retirees. Since 2002, Nefesh B’Nefesh has helped over 100,000 North American Jews immigrate to Israel, with nearly 30,000 selecting Jerusalem as their destination.
The demographic breakdown demonstrates the movement’s breadth: approximately 70 families, around 400 young singles, and roughly 180 retirees. The age range tells its own compelling story, stretching from an 11-month-old infant to a 96-year-old new resident.
Mayor Moshe Lion interpreted these numbers as proof that Jerusalem attracts people not merely as a historical or religious symbol, but as a genuine place to build lives. “Jerusalem is much more than a historic symbol or Israel’s capital city. It is a vibrant, growing city filled with opportunity, a place where people choose to build their future,” Lion stated. He highlighted “strong communities, excellent education, culture, employment opportunities, innovation, and a true sense of belonging unlike anywhere else.”
Lion also emphasized the broader significance of these immigration patterns. “Making Aliyah to Jerusalem is a powerful Zionist statement,” he declared, “and we are proud to open the doors of our city to everyone who chooses to build their lives and future in Israel’s capital.”
Katz’s upbringing was deeply connected to Israel and Judaism. Her ultra-Orthodox family remains close to her, she had Israeli relatives, and she visited for her bat mitzvah. However, as she matured, much of her identity developed within different environments, particularly leftist and progressive circles in America.
“I became very entrenched in that subculture and very passionate about social justice and a lot of progressive causes,” Katz told The Media Line.
The October 7 attacks marked a turning point. Katz anticipated that people within those circles would acknowledge what had happened to Israelis. Instead, she felt immediately rejected. A conversation with a college friend became the moment she realized something fundamental had changed.
The friend shared a video shortly after October 7, claiming that Israelis were taking pleasure in Gaza’s suffering. Katz reached out privately, attempting to explain that Israelis weren’t celebrating violence. She expected a compassionate, perhaps apologetic response.
“I expected a reaction of, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that. Please, can you share with me more information or more resources to help me understand what’s actually going on?’” Katz remembered. That wasn’t what occurred.
“Instead, what I got was antisemitism and hatred telling me that I’m wrong, that I’m evil for supporting Israel, that I don’t know what I’m talking about,” she said. Katz described receiving accusations that Israel was stealing organs, attempting to seize Gaza, and that October 7 was fabricated. “It really shocked me how someone who I thought was intelligent and had a nuanced view on the world could be so, so ignorant and so closed-minded and, honestly, so mean when I thought she was my friend.”
The impact extended beyond personal relationships. Watching protests spread across New York and other locations, Katz sensed the change wasn’t temporary. “I realized like this time is different,” she said. “Talking to people on Instagram is not going to change it. And something bad is coming.”
When explaining her choice of Jerusalem over Tel Aviv, Katz repeatedly returned to the concept of authenticity. For her, Jerusalem’s appeal wasn’t its convenience or ease, but the intentionality of people who chose to live there. “There’s an authenticity and a realness to the people who feel drawn to Jerusalem, where they feel it in their heart that that’s where they belong,” she explained. “And I felt the same way, even though I don’t necessarily fit.”
Katz doesn’t claim to represent the typical Jerusalem immigrant. Her decision stands out because she doesn’t match the profile many Israelis might expect, either politically or socially. She isn’t simply a young American continuing a familiar religious path in a more traditional setting. She arrived after discovering that movements she had trusted couldn’t accommodate her Jewish and Zionist identity following the October 7 massacre.
The newcomer demographics prove more diverse than stereotypes suggest. Nefesh B’Nefesh reports that nearly 60% of North American immigrants settling in Jerusalem are women. Many originate from New York, New Jersey, California, and Florida, with Ontario, Canada, also representing a significant source. The professional backgrounds of new immigrants include doctors, educators, lawyers, social workers, business professionals, and engineers. Physicians lead this year’s list, with 35 doctors selecting Jerusalem.
For Tony Gelbart, co-founder and chairman of Nefesh B’Nefesh, this variety reinforces a key point: “Jerusalem is not only central to the Jewish people’s history, but also a vibrant center of life and community today.” Each new immigrant contributes to “the city’s evolving story.” He expressed pride that so many immigrants now consider Jerusalem home.
The organization’s physical presence has become part of Jerusalem’s immigration infrastructure. Its Jerusalem Campus, which opened in 2021 near many national institutions, has welcomed 150,000 visitors since launching. In the past year alone, it hosted over 8,000 visitors and organized more than 100 events, including professional networking programs, educational seminars, and initiatives for lone soldiers and young families.
For Katz, however, Jerusalem’s meaning isn’t primarily found in formal programs. She discusses buses, sidewalks, and the everyday proximity of people who might not encounter each other in the same spaces elsewhere. Even her morning commute, with its crowds and frustrations, has become part of how she understands the city.
“I always come back to the diversity,” she said. “Being able to get on my bus on the way to my office in the morning, and there’s so many different people just sitting on the bus together, just enjoying, well, I don’t know about enjoying their commute, but experiencing their commute, it reminds me of how all of the Jews in Israel are so different, but yet we’re all here.”
This diversity transformed her understanding of Judaism itself. In America, she said, the Jewish communities she knew were primarily those closest to her family and background. “My family is ultra-Orthodox. Half of them are Chabad and half of them are Yeshivish,” she explained. Beyond that, she was familiar with Reform Judaism in America. Jerusalem revealed something broader.
“Honestly, moving to Jerusalem showed me just how much diversity there is amongst the Jewish people,” Katz said. “When I arrived to Jerusalem, I saw the most Orthodox of the most Orthodox, ultra-Orthodox. And then I saw people who looked like me, with tattoos, piercings, and dyed hair. People who were secular, people anywhere along the spectrum in between.”
She laughed slightly at not having understood this earlier, but emphasized the discovery was genuine. “I had no idea there was so much diversity amongst the Jewish people,” she said. “Jerusalem is very alive with all sorts of, I don’t know if contradictions is the right word, but we’re all part of the same people. We’re all Jewish people, but people are still so different from each other and have such different opinions and views.”
This gives the official immigration statistics more personal significance. The city isn’t simply absorbing people; it’s also reshaping what some understand Jewish belonging to mean. Katz said she feels “safe and at home” walking through the city because she’s surrounded by her people, even when those people don’t resemble one another.
“When push comes to shove, Israelis, for the most part, I understand there are certainly a few exceptions, but for the most part, when it comes down to it, Israelis will have your back when you need them,” she said. “Jewish people will have your back when you need them.”
This year’s Jerusalem Day also finds the city again at the center of Israel’s diplomatic efforts. Deputy Prime Minister and Justice Minister Yariv Levin, who also oversees the Jerusalem Affairs portfolio, used an official visit to Romania this week to request that the Romanian Embassy be relocated to Jerusalem. Speaking to a special joint session of the Romanian parliament marking the Day of Solidarity between Romania and Israel, Levin connected the city’s status to international recognition of Israel’s historical rights.
“The heart of the Holy Land is our eternal capital, Jerusalem,” Levin stated. “After many years of denial of our historical rights in our capital, President Trump moved the United States Embassy in Israel to Jerusalem. He was followed by other prominent leaders from a growing number of countries.”
Levin then made a direct request to Romanian leaders. “I believe that the Romanian flag deserves to be raised in the city of the great kings, David and Solomon,” he said. He also characterized Israel as defending democratic values and criticized those he said use international law against Israel while failing to support Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in the fight against terror.
For Israeli officials, Jerusalem remains a diplomatic challenge. For municipal leaders and immigration organizations, it represents a city of growth, services, communities, and future residents. For Katz, the matter is more personal and, in some ways, more historical. She reflects on the generations of Jews who wanted to return to Jerusalem but couldn’t.
“For thousands of years, there were Jewish people around the world in the diaspora who wanted nothing more than to be able to return to Jerusalem safely,” she said. “It’s a privilege that I, from my comfy life in America, I live in a period of time where I can choose to just go to Jerusalem and live in Jerusalem and live in the land of my people.”
That privilege, she said, became impossible to ignore. “Who am I to not take this amazing opportunity?” Katz asked.
When asked why North American immigrants, including young people, would choose Jerusalem over places that might feel more familiar to an American lifestyle, Katz pointed to what she described as a spiritual attraction. “In the diaspora, obviously, we have synagogues, and we have Jewish community centers, but we’re very far removed from the center of Judaism,” she said. “When we have the chance to go to Israel, why not go right to the heart of it?”
Katz understands that Jerusalem is political. She knows it carries the weight of history and conflict. But when asked what the city means to her now, she didn’t start with policy. She began with a feeling of being close to the center of something she had inherited long before she arrived.
“Jerusalem is, I think, the beating heart of Israel,” she said. “You have everyone from everywhere. You’re in the center of it all. I mean, obviously, the political center of Israel, but like the cultural center and the spiritual center and just the authentic, like the center of authenticity, I feel is in Jerusalem.”
She then attempted to describe what it’s like to live near the Old City, in a place where so much of Jewish memory isn’t confined to books or prayers but exists just outside the door. Katz said she knows Israel isn’t literally the cradle of civilization, but Jerusalem feels that way to her.
“It feels like the center of the world to me,” she said.
