I removed myself from all my high school’s alumni email lists long ago. I went to a competitive public high school in Virginia. I had little in common with many of those kids. There were only a few Jews in my school. I didn’t need to check in to see if I’d miss a reunion or “kept up” careerwise with my classmates.
Still, I’d tried to keep up with a few of them. My childhood best friend recently asked about an older marching band friend of ours. This friend, who we’ll call C, had a common name and we’d never been able to find her. Now, almost 40 years later, we’d given up hope. Then, I got a big surprise – C found me through an online contact form, and I was delighted! I immediately responded.
After a round of “ohmygoodness!” notes, I asked lots of questions, trying to make connections again. Then, I probably said too much about the last three years – that Oct. 7, the Gaza war and the repercussions in Canada have had big effects on us, our work lives, our neighbourhood, our kids’ schools and our safety. This wouldn’t be news to anyone in the Jewish community, of course. In my email, I’d changed the original subject, so when I didn’t hear anything, I suspected that might be the problem – or maybe she was busy. I reached out again with a brief note using the original email thread. No response. Nada.
C isn’t Jewish. Although she knew (as a teen) that I was, maybe she’d forgotten. Maybe my ability to fit in and assimilate back then meant that it wasn’t a sticking point. Now, I wonder if I’m not getting any response simply because I’m Jewish and mentioned the hate and challenges we’ve faced.
Then, I attended the Jewish Authors’ Summit online. The news from publishers and other authors was dire. Literary agents and publishers now often won’t read Jewish and Israeli stories, never mind try to get them published. Jewish publishers and agents have sprung into action to try to elevate Jewish books in a difficult professional climate.
None of this is shocking. Since the war started, it’s affected so many facets of our lives that we’ve almost gotten “used to” the antisemitism. The locked and alarmed doors at our synagogue and the nondescript bag we use to carry our tallits (prayer shawls) when we walk there have become a habit. At a last-minute neighbourhood meeting, the caution I used to explain a protester outside our synagogue and his “issues” became another sign of the new normal.
Like many Jewish Canadians, our social lives turned inwards. I’m at a Jewish event or service at least twice a week now. Even so, the event I attended towards the end of October came as a surprise.
The Asper Jewish Community Campus, in Winnipeg, houses the Jewish Heritage Centre of Western Canada (JHCWC). A severe June rainstorm flooded many homes and institutions here, including Temple Shalom, but the JHCWC archives experienced a particularly terrible flood.
The archive and its contents were saved due to the heroic efforts of archivist Ava Garfinkel and a devoted team of co-workers, friends and family. Unfortunately, what now follows is a long process of expensive renovation to restore the space and its flood-damaged contents. The JHCWC has started to fundraise for donations, likely upwards of $100,000, to pay for this intensive work.
On Oct. 22, the museum and archives held a trivia night event to raise money. It was well-organized, with 24 teams and nearly 200 people participating. An accomplished emcee and a trivia night expert assisted with up-to-the-moment technical details. JHCWC experts did the scoring. The demographics were wholly representative of the community, with high school student teams competing alongside old-timers.
We celebrated with drinks, appetizers and dainties, a silent auction, gift baskets and a raffle. Lots of people contributed prizes. The community pitched in and JHCWC raised money to support its archives, which help keep Western Canadian Jewish history alive.
Equally important, perhaps, was a room buzzing with joy, laughter and friendly competition to answer questions on everything from Canaan to musician Regina Spektor. Our team was in it right up until we lost the last bonus round. Though only one table could win, everyone had a blast. Afterwards, we all grinned as we talked about and suggested changes for “next time.” Nobody said, “If we do this again” but rather “When it happens again.”
I get mired in the negative effects of the ongoing rise in antisemitism. It’s also reasonable to feel disappointment at the media’s lack of attention to this hate and the slow or nonexistent response of law enforcement. These bad experiences are the new normal. Along with the fact that, since COVID, we haven’t consistently gathered in large numbers, I’d forgotten the immense joy we get from these big Jewish gatherings. The trivia night allowed every team to have a small table of conversation and positive exchange, plus the energy of 23 other teams celebrating together. It was a triumph!
It’s difficult to stop the worry feedback loop about what’s happening politically, socially or concerning our physical safety. The JHCWC event created an oasis of joy, with Jewish knowledge at its centre.
Jews have long struggled with how to “be” in the diaspora. We debate over if we assimilate or stay apart. The balancing act continues, but, in every generation, we work to make space and find this joy. I hope the JHCWC can rebound from the flood. It helps our community find historic resources as well as educating us and making (and preserving) memories to come. Next year, after more Jewish reading and learning, I hope my team beats yours at the trivia night!
Joanne Seiff has written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.
