Our Woman of Impact profile features a local woman making a notable impact in our community. For this issue, we spoke with Robin Landau, Director of Programming at Voices of Hope, a nonprofit dedicated to Holocaust and genocide education. A Rochester, New York native, Robin earned her law degree and worked in legal practice before pivoting to child advocacy and community service. Robin has been deeply involved in Greater Hartford's Jewish community for more than two decades, including serving as president of Solomon Schechter Day School’s Board of Trustees. She currently serves on the boards of the Jewish Historical Society of Greater Hartford and the Anti-Defamation League’s National Commission and State Board, and she is part of the core team that launched Hartford's first Rekindle cohort—a Black-Jewish dialogue initiative. Robin has been a member of Women’s Philanthropy’s Lion of Judah Society since 2016. Robin and her husband, Jeffrey, live in West Hartford with their dog Archie. They have two children: Arielle, 29, who works at the Jewish Book Council in New York and is getting married in August; and Dylan, 26, a third-year medical student at NYU.
What role has Jewishness historically played in your life?
It’s always been central to who I am. Growing up, my family belonged to a Reform synagogue and my parents were very involved: my mom in the sisterhood and my dad on the board. I was involved in the youth group, went to Jewish camp, and was in a Jewish sorority in college. When I was 16, my grandparents sent me to Israel through the URJ and I met some of my closest friends I still have today. Then, when my husband and I started our family, being Jewish remained integral. My kids went to Jewish camp and Schechter—and my daughter also was in a Jewish sorority and has worked in the Jewish nonprofit world since graduating from college.
You mentioned Solomon Schechter Day School, where you served in several capacities, including as president of their Board of Trustees. How did you get so heavily involved in the school?
When our family moved to West Hartford, I was pregnant with my son, and my daughter was three and ready for an early childhood program. Our good friends, the Rausches, had a son at Schechter and we checked it out. I found it to be so welcoming and warm, and it really became a central part of our community. We initially enrolled in the school’s early childhood program but ended up staying through eighth grade.
Schechter completely shaped my children and helped them understand that they’re connected to a larger community of people. Our family went to Israel for the first time when my daughter was ten, and I remember looking at her next to the [Western] Wall, and feeling that she understood that the wall was part of her, that she was connected to something much larger than herself. She got that through Schechter. It gave both of my children a solid foundation of who they were before they went into the larger world. My own involvement with the school started in the parent teacher organization, which was a great way to meet other families. By being a part of the school in that way, there was a natural progression to be on the board.
You now serve as Director of Programming at Voices of Hope. How did you discover that organization and how has their mission impacted you?
I was at a point in life where I was looking for something new. Kathy Fishman (Voices of Hope’s Executive Director) reached out to let me know they were looking for a development person and asked if I could come in that afternoon to interview! That was 2019—and then COVID hit in 2020. We shifted to virtual programming, which ended up broadening our reach tremendously.
We also started to see more incidents of antisemitism popping up in 2020, which I really hadn’t experienced before. This was the first time in my life I began to feel targeted. My family was visiting Portland, Oregon and an Uber driver, who told us he was from Syria, asked where we were from; when we said Connecticut, he said, “Oh, too many Jews there.” I had helped to resettle a Syrian family as part of my work with our synagogue, Beth El, and had built a beautiful relationship with them. I told the Uber driver that we were Jewish and that the relationship we had with the Muslim Syrian family showed me the power of what can be accomplished when our two communities work together.
Then, in North Carolina, we saw a family on the beach with a three-year-old boy. The father had a swastika tattoo. I approached him and said, “I’m just wondering, do you know what that symbol means?” He said that it was a symbol of his German heritage, and I said, “To many people, it’s a symbol of the six million Jews who were murdered in the Holocaust, and you may want to consider what you are teaching your son.”
What gives you the courage to speak up in moments like that?
A lot of it comes from our work at Voices of Hope. Our mission is to use Holocaust and genocide education to promote a culture of courage so people speak out against hatred. I feel that if that’s our mission and I’m representing this organization, I have to speak up. Education is the most important way we can fight. So, if I’m in a situation like the ones I mentioned and feel I can offer a moment of education, I do. I strongly feel that if you hear or see something hateful, it’s important to make sure people know it’s not okay—in as civil a way as possible.
Voices of Hope’s work is so critical—but it’s also heavy subject matter to face every day. How do you deal with the heaviness and where do you find joy?
It is very heavy—particularly since October 7, because you can’t help but see parallels. But there’s also an incredible amount of inspiration. Speaking to Holocaust survivors is absolutely the best part, and when we get to introduce them to a community who have never met a survivor, it’s really special. One of our survivors, Ruth Weiner, is originally from Vienna and talks about her experiences during Kristallnacht and on the Kindertransport. We had an event with Ruth in Wilton, and you could sense that her experience resonated with the 400 people in attendance, especially considering what’s going on today. She talked about what it was like to read propaganda in the newspaper in Austria and the antisemetic signs she saw on the street. And we’re able to make the point that while Nazi propaganda was very powerful then, consider how quickly disinformation is disseminated today. That’s pretty jarring for people.
It’s also very important to make sure that once the survivors are gone, their stories live on. So we work with the children and grandchildren of survivors, helping them continue to tell their family’s stories. We also do a lot of experiential education, including taking students to the Anne Frank exhibit in New York and our upcoming March of the Living trip to Poland and Israel.
You’ve been involved in giving back to the community throughout your life, including as a Lion of Judah. Why has volunteerism and social-justice oriented work been so central in your life?
My mom modeled it for me. I remember her wearing Vietnam veteran bracelets, participating in local politics, and volunteering in my schools. She was very involved in causes—and that was a huge inspiration. I’m also very sensitive; I feel things deeply and get frustrated when I see something wrong that I can’t do anything about. So, I try to do what I can when I can.