A Recap Is Not a Story — And Exhaustion Is Telling Us Something About Communication

By the end of the day, I’m exhausted.

Not the kind of exhaustion that comes from meaningful work, but the kind that comes from opening my phone and seeing it all at once; emails I need to read carefully, WhatsApp messages that feel personal, community updates that matter but don’t need an immediate response, and threads I don’t want to ignore but don’t know how to prioritize.

I care about all of it.

And because I don’t know where to begin, I do nothing.

Over time, I’ve learned to pay attention to that feeling, because it shows up not just for me, but for the parents, educators, and community members I work with every day. What I’ve come to understand is this: this isn’t a personal flaw. It’s human nature.

In my work with Jewish schools and organizations, I see it consistently. When people are overwhelmed with information, options, and content, they don’t engage more: They disengage.

Much of what we do depends not on how much we share, but on how clearly we help people understand what matters.

The Communication Trap We Fall Into (With the Best Intentions)

Across schools, Chabad houses, and Jewish nonprofits I work with, the patterns are familiar:

WhatsApp threads filled with dozens of photos and no framing. Emails packed with updates, schedules, PDFs, and announcements — all important, all competing. Newsletters that take hours to create and seconds to skim, if they’re opened at all.

The intention behind all of this is almost always the same: inclusion, transparency, opportunity.

And that intention makes sense, especially in Jewish spaces, where community, responsibility, and visibility matter deeply.

But what I’ve learned to watch for is not the intention. It’s the experience on the receiving end that very often leads to overwhelm. And when people feel overwhelmed, they quietly opt out. Not because they don’t care, but because the communication asks too much of them after a long day.

Why More Communication Can Lead to Less Connection

There’s an assumption many thoughtful organizations operate from, and I understand why: If we share everything, people will feel informed. If we give all the options, they’ll choose what matters to them.

In practice, though, I’ve seen the opposite play out. Too many choices don’t empower people; they create decision fatigue. When parents or community members know they’ll need to scroll through a long, carefully curated email just to find what matters to them, they often push it off.

I’ll look at this later, when I have a clear head.

And as you can imagine, “later” turns into a fuller inbox. Before long, the next week’s email is waiting too, and the default response isn’t curiosity: it’s silence.

This isn’t a marketing issue.

It’s a communication challenge that often shows up in Chabad institutions because they are holding so much at once: adult education, children’s programming, holiday experiences, women’s circles, shul life, and community care, all with the belief that every individual should be able to find what they need.

When everything matters, the challenge isn’t deciding what’s important; it’s helping people find their place within it all.

To Some Extent, We All Learn Like Preschoolers

There’s an analogy I often come back to.

Imagine handing a preschooler a bin filled with Legos, marbles, blocks, and puzzle pieces and saying, “Choose what you want to play with.” Most kids won’t engage.

But give them only the Legos and say, “Build me a blue tower,” and suddenly there’s focus, confidence, and participation.

What I’ve learned is that adults aren’t so different.

When communication presents everything at once, people freeze. When communication offers one clear focus, people engage. Thoughtful communication doesn’t remove information. It guides attention, intentionally.

Why This Tension Shows Up So Clearly in Jewish Spaces

Jewish life is built through small, meaningful moments.

We don’t experience Judaism all at once. We move through it, one practice, one moment, one holiday at a time.

A candle lit. A blessing was said. A small symbol that carries meaning far beyond what it shows.

At the same time, Jewish organizations, especially schools and Chabad communities, often rely on newsletters and emails as catchalls. They become the responsible place to put everything.

Yet we all understand that not every reader is looking for the same thing. Some are scanning for their child, some are drawn to a short Torah thought, some want programs, while others want a sense of belonging.

When everything is shared at the same volume and in the same way, even meaningful content can disappear into the scroll.

Clarity isn’t about withholding information. It’s about framing value, so people can easily connect with what matters to them.

Where Tools (Including AI) Can Genuinely Support This Work

AI is most helpful not when it’s asked to generate more content, but when it’s used to help think through how a single moment should live in different spaces.

Most schools and organizations already have the content. What’s often missing is the lens.

Instead of asking AI, “Write this for me,” a more supportive question is: “I have this situation, what does it need here to be noticed by the right people that will find this valuable?”

“I have this situation — what does it need here to be noticed by the right people who will actually find it valuable?”

When leaders use AI this way, it becomes a framing assistant — helping them clarify purpose before publishing.

That clarity changes everything.

For example:

• In a newsletter, the question isn’t what else should we include? It’s: How do we frame this moment so that someone skimming can quickly recognize whether it speaks to them, a parent, a learner, a community member, and feel oriented rather than overwhelmed? 

When newsletters are clearly organized with short sections, visual breaks, and cues that help readers quickly find what speaks to them, people don’t feel overwhelmed. They feel oriented.

• In a flyer, the question isn’t, "How do we fit everything?" It’s: What is the one benefit or invitation this moment is offering, and what can be removed so that the message is unmistakable at a glance?

• On Instagram, clarity often begins with naming who this is for. A caption that starts by grounding the moment a program, a class, a slice of community life helps the right person recognize themselves immediately as they scroll. Instagram isn’t about explaining. It’s about recognition.

• In a recap, the question isn’t what happened? It’s: What is the takeaway that helps this moment live beyond the event itself?

Used this way, AI doesn’t add another task. It helps leaders pause long enough to make intentional choices, so communication feels purposeful and meaningful.

The goal isn’t to say more. It’s to make sure the right people can recognize what’s meant for them. It allows organizations to reuse content thoughtfully rather than repeating it noisily, while respecting the limited time and attention of the people they care about most.

The goal isn’t to communicate more or less. It’s meant to communicate clearly and intentionally, so meaning doesn’t get lost.

A Final Thought

A recap documents activity. A story creates meaning.

And in a world overflowing with messages, clarity isn’t just effective communication.

It’s an act of connection that Makes it Matter to your community.