Lessons Learned from the Ad That Stirred Debate

by Isaac Shadpour

 

A giant photo of a young Jewish boy holding a sign that read “Can I be your dependent?” was meant to tug at heartstrings. Instead, it ignited a firestorm.

Within hours of the ad going viral on social media, critics seized on the word “dependent,” twisting it into something far different than what was intended. Commenters accused the organization of encouraging tax fraud. Others used it as an opportunity to take aim at the broader Jewish community. What was designed as a creative appeal to fight hunger suddenly became a lightning rod.

To understand how that happened, I reached out to one of the volunteers behind the marketing for Lechem L’yeled, which is the organization that came up with the ad.

“We’re all volunteers. We’re not getting paid for this,” he told The Voice in an interview. “We’re doing this to help feed starving children in Israel. I also happen to love marketing, especially the kind of marketing that’s bold and gets people’s attention.”

Lechem L’yeled is an organization that operates in Israel, helping feed impoverished children. In Israel, government food support programs are far more limited than in the United States.

“Here we have WIC. There they don’t,” he explained. “The organization therefore helps by providing them the ability to buy milk, cheese, eggs, and other basic staples.”

The model is simple. It costs $36 a month to feed a child. Donors in Lakewood and across the United States contribute $12, and partnering funds in Israel cover the remaining $24. “Money goes straight from the donor to these cards that allow the recipient to buy food,” he added. “There’s no middleman.”

The volunteer explained the wording behind the campaign. “It was a play on the word dependent,” he said. “The kids are depending on us. So we said ‘claim your dependent.’ Nothing to do with the IRS. Nothing to do with cheating taxes. It was about responsibility.”

But online, it was a different story.

Some commenters mocked the message. Others suggested it promoted dishonesty. A few used it to amplify old stereotypes. When I asked whether he could understand why people reacted strongly, he didn’t dismiss the criticism.

“I’m a very open-minded person. I like hearing both sides,” he said. “Perhaps we should have been a little more careful. It’s a good question.”

At the same time, he believes the outrage says as much about the climate as it does about the campaign.

“In the non-Jewish world, fighting hunger is universally accepted,” he noted. “Everyone understands helping starving children. People don’t realize that there’s real hunger in parts of Israel. Kids literally go to school without food.”

He shared that some of the most powerful responses came not from social media but from children. “We’ve had kids see our ads and take their own money and tell their fathers they want to give,” he noted. “The kids in our community have very big hearts.”

Still, the backlash raises a very important point. In an era when detractors are quick to interpret messages in the worst possible light, every member of our community has an added responsibility to anticipate how messaging will be perceived. In any future ad campaign, it’s essential that the language is clear and thoughtful, leaving no room for it to be misconstrued or misrepresented.

The marketing representative, however, offered a different perspective. “I personally feel that the big homes, the beautiful stores, and the advertising of luxuries is much more dangerous,” he responded. “When someone from outside the community drives through and sees opulence, it can feel like we’re flaunting wealth. Before we nitpick a legitimate attempt to stamp out hunger, maybe we should look at that.”

It is a striking argument. He isn’t denying that messaging must be thoughtful. In fact, he said the organization is open to refining its approach.

“Maybe next year we’ll put something clearer, like ‘help fight hunger in Israel,’” he said. “We definitely want to hear what people have to say.”

He also acknowledged that clarity matters in a polarized environment. “We could have been more explicit,” he admitted. “But even if we wrote Israel, some people would still find something wrong.”

As our conversation drew to a close, the marketing representative concluded with the following:

“The campaign slogan and request to take on these children as dependents has real meaning beyond the surface implication of tax dependents. Just like people receive more on their tax return according to how many dependents they claim, so too if someone takes on one of these children who’s depending on them for basic bread, milk, and eggs, surely they’ll be repaid by Hashem with all the brachos of the Torah reserved for those who provide for kollel families. Additionally, they’ll be zocheh to the blessings from the head of the Perushim community, Rav Yehoshua Dovid Turchin, and Rav Yitzchok Sorotzkin, rosh yeshivah of Mesivta of Lakewood!”

In the end, this controversy is about more than a slogan. It’s about the delicate balance between bold marketing and communal responsibility. It’s about how quickly a charitable message can be reframed in a hostile way. As Purim approaches, the holiday of triumph over our enemies, we’re once again reminded of our detractors who are always on the lookout to malign our community, but we’re also warmed by the tremendous outpouring of support and generosity for our hungry brethren in Eretz Yisrael that this campaign has elicited.