A tale of the ‘90s: fzy, suzi’s story…

FZY alumna Suzi Zeffman revisits the movement that shaped her teenage years — and her life beyond them.

My name is Suzi, and my daughter, Anya, is deeply involved in FZY. She clearly takes after her mum -  the teenage Suzi from a bygone era. I was an FZY-nik in the early ’90s, and it changed my life. It is metaphorically and indelibly etched into the timeline of my memories.

Kibbutz Ketura, HBS

The FZY years represented endless fun, joy, hope, new-found confidence, acceptance, togetherness, and lifelong friendships. They also marked the discovery of “boys” (teenage ones, of course - my age! Sorry, Anya, to embarrass you). And arguably just as important was the beginning of my deep love for Israel.

Jewish and Israel education formed the nucleus of FZY, with all these other elements loyally surrounding it, like a stable atom.

Whizz backwards 35 years (yes, I am that old), I had tried another Jewish youth group the year before, with Sunday evening meetings, but I wasn’t ready. I was 13, shy, the late-’80s definition of a “swot,” and my face was taken over by large blue plastic glasses that I happily hid my real self behind.

My mum encouraged me to get out a bit more, beyond school friends and activities, beyond my other best friends: my books and homework. I went for a few months, feeling like I was just doing what my parents wanted. Don’t get me wrong, I already had the seeds of being sociable. I’d always had friends and some very close ones from a young age - I was just shy in crowds and with new people.

Fast forward one year. I had a couple of new friends from outside school and a pair of expensive but life-changing contact lenses. I heard about a party at a house at the bottom of my road - thrown by a girl who was a friend of my sister, one year older than me - and I braved it with a couple of friends. That party was, unknowingly, the beginning of my FZY journey.

The party-goers were friendly and inclusive. I met several people who became part of my life for many years to come - and one boy who is still, to this day, one of my closest friends. I was told I had to come to FZY Masada chapter meetings on Sunday nights at Stanmore Shul. Everyone went. It was the place to be.

And so I went. I dragged along a couple of friends, who brought friends, and before I knew it, I was meeting new people - my people - faster than you can blink. Week after week, new faces and familiar ones at our two-hour Sunday evenings. I made wonderful friends from Pinner at Masada, many of whom I am still close to today.

I found a solid group of “soul sisters” I went out with every Saturday night. I met plenty of boys to keep me endlessly occupied with “which one I fancied this week” - and the same went for my girlfriends and their ever-changing crushes! We shared a rooted love of our heritage, our Jewishness, and Israel-focused programming every Sunday night, deepening our connection to our people and our roots.

I even joined the Masada Stanmore committee when I was old enough - I think I was programme coordinator… or perhaps smoked-salmon-and-bagel provider. It was a long time ago - maybe I dreamed that bit!

Alongside the local Sunday meetings were regular weekends away, the annual conferences, and Veida, which I loved, plus shorter weekend seminars all over the UK - Glasgow, Liverpool, Manchester. I met Jewish teens from across the country. We wrote letters back and forth to stay in touch - yes, no mobile phones then! Letters were exciting and full of anticipation. Receiving one in the post felt far more special than any WhatsApp today.

We travelled up to seminars by train, laughing the whole way. Glasgow was the best - the long journey meant more bonding time en route. I remember annual conference in Derby, in a Harry Potter-esque school with the heating off all week. We slept in five layers and spent the days huddled together, teeth chattering. I slept on countless floors at mass sleepovers. Liverpool Seminar meant a hard floor - but we didn’t care. It was all part of the fun.

Certain songs became forever attached to moments. James’ Sit Down from my first winter conference in Oxford. Beverley Craven’s Promise Me from a weekend seminar when a friend played it nonstop on the train after falling for someone - I never wanted to hear that song again! Whitney Houston’s I Will Always Love You from a slow dance at the annual conference with a boy I fancied, while dressed as Morticia Addams - who is now one of my oldest and dearest friends.

I can’t not mention the other monumental FZY experiences: Israel Tour post-GCSEs, and a year later, Hadracha B’Shemesh (Leadership in the Sun). Both hold infinite memories - too many to truly capture - meaningful to those of us who lived them.

Tour was my first real taste of freedom, self-discovery, and falling even more in love with Israel - much like what Anya and Coby experienced years later. HBS was smaller and more intimate: five deeply formative weeks. Three in Dimona running a children’s Kaytana camp where many kids barely spoke English; one week of “army” (Gadna), which we thought was hard - minimal food, concrete showers with no doors, tents, and removing contact lenses in the dark with grubby fingers! Then one final week on Kibbutz Ketura near Eilat, where our “labour” consisted mostly of planting seeds and trimming plants.

HBS 1993 cohort

Kaytana in Dimona was undoubtedly the most powerful experience for me - bonding with my class of young teens, leading programmes with “ktsat” Hebrew and their “ktsat” or “ein” English. Many were immigrant children settling into Israeli life. Creating connection, offering fun, and holding responsibility was one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done. The farewell ceremony is etched into my heart - their joy as I was called onto the stage was priceless.

Music filled every part of Tour and HBS - guitars, campfires, coaches, youth hostels, bedrooms. The Beatles, Bob Marley, The Monkees, Hotel California rolling through the Negev at night on the coach to Eilat. On the final night of HBS, my dear friend Debs and I sang Baby Can I Hold You Tonight. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Debs still jokes it was because everyone was crying for us to stop singing!

The goodbye event at end of Kaytana, Dimona, HBS tour

I never made it on a gap year, sadly - my parents wanted me to complete my vocational studies, and I went straight from university into my profession. But many FZY friends landed in Manchester with me at university, either that same year or after their gap year, and our friendships continued.

My love of Israel has stayed with me ever since, largely thanks to FZY. I go once or twice a year. My heart lives there, wrapped in memories. When I land at Ben Gurion, I feel like I’m home.

FZY inspired me - through its chanichim and madrichim alike. I’ve watched so many former members become leaders in Jewish and Israel life. FZY shaped who I am: my involvement in the Jewish community, my values, my sense of responsibility to give back and be a small cog in a larger wheel. It helped cement my Jewish identity - alongside my parents and primary school - and has given me the confidence to speak up with conviction, especially over the last two years since the horrors of October 7th.

Looking forward, I wish for FZY to go from strength to strength - empowering today’s teens to build memories that will carry them through life, just as mine have carried me. To help young Jews become confident in this challenging secular world, proud in their Jewish identity, deeply connected to Israel, and - please G-d - the leaders and change-makers of tomorrow.

Thank you, FZY, for being such an extraordinary organisation for Jewish teens - past, present, and future. And thank you, on behalf of me, for my treasured memories, friendships, and experiences.

B’Hatzlacha.