Last year, Richmond RCMP Superintendent Will Ng came up with the idea of creating a challenge coin unique to each of seven communities in Richmond. (photo by Lauren Kramer)
In 2019, Superintendent Will Ng at the Richmond RCMP came up with the idea of creating a “challenge coin” unique to each of seven of Richmond’s larger communities: Jewish, Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, Muslim, Sikh and Chinese. A coin was designed for each with the guidance of the community’s spiritual leaders.
For the Jewish community, the coin was collaboratively designed by Sgt. Kevin Krieger and Congregation Beth Tikvah’s Rabbi Adam Rubin.
“I was genuinely moved and touched when the RCMP approached me to help design the coin,” Rubin told the Independent. “The fact that the RCMP was willing to produce a challenge coin for the Jewish community speaks volumes about its commitment to diversity and inclusion, as well as its commitment to the safety, well-being and flourishing of Jews in the Lower Mainland.”
The Jewish challenge coin was designed by Sgt. Kevin Krieger and Rabbi Adam Rubin. (photos by Cynthia Ramsay)
The Jewish coin features a quote from the Talmud (in English) and an image of the Star of David and a Torah scroll. Rubin and Krieger both felt that these are widely recognized symbols of Judaism and Jewish life.
“The Torah is at the very heart of our religious life, the core of who we are as a people, while the Star of David connects us to our past and to the state of Israel,” Rubin said. “The excerpt from the Talmud, ‘The entire Torah was given for the ways of peace,’ is a heartfelt expression of an essential teaching of our tradition – that peaceful relations between people is one of the goals of religious life. Given recent events in North America, Europe and elsewhere, that claim is more important than ever.”
Some 400 coins were produced in time for Rosh Hashanah last year and have been handed out by members of the police force at special community events, both in Richmond and beyond.
“The coin represents the fact that we stand in solidarity with our Jewish community against hate and antisemitism,” said Ng. “We will do our best to protect our Jewish community to ensure they feel safe to both live and practise their religion free from hate or prejudice.”
Rubin said he is deeply grateful to the RCMP for producing a coin with such an important message. “I hope and pray that, though this challenge coin may be fairly modest in the grand scheme of things, it plays a part both in ensuring the continued flourishing of Jews in Canada, and in helping to reinforce the crucial value of peace.”
Cpl. Adriana Peralta, who works in Richmond RCMP’s media relations, said the coins are commonly used in the RCMP as a token of appreciation for community service, or as a small gift to individuals who have served their community. “We have a large faith-based community in Richmond and our detachment came up with this particular series of coins as a way to connect with our interfaith partners and celebrate the rich diversity of our cultural groups,” she explained.
The RCMP has created a display of the seven coins at the Richmond detachment, where they are positioned below an image of the Richmond skyline.
Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond. To read her work online, visit laurenkramer.net.
Co-creators Eugene Levy, left, and son Daniel Levy were among the Schitt’s Creek panelists at the 92nd Street Y in New York City on Jan. 17. (photos by Rod Morata/Michael Priest Photography)
Fans of Canada’s mega-hit TV show Schitt’s Creek were eagerly eyeing the stage at the 92nd Street Y in New York City on Jan. 17. They had just viewed the first two episodes of the sixth and final season on a big screen and the main cast was about to appear. When the curtain lifted, the audience loudly cheered, as Eugene Levy (Johnny), Daniel Levy (David), Catherine O’Hara (Moira) and Annie Murphy (Alexis) sat smiling.
The moderator, Vanity Fair’s Richard Lawson, didn’t waste any time asking why they decided to call it quits.
“We had discussed it and thought six seasons would give us enough time to tell our story,” said Daniel Levy, the show’s co-creator, co-executive producer, writer and Eugene Levy’s real-life son. “Working so closely with the show, it almost spoke to me. I felt we built enough to land the plane, so to speak. From day one, I have been aware of overstaying your welcome. I would rather leave people with a real joyful idea of what the show was and what it meant to them.”
The clever, funny, quirky Schitt’s Creek is a fish-out-of-water sitcom in which the ultrawealthy Rose family – Johnny and Moira and their two adult children, David and Alexis – goes into bankruptcy and loses everything. With no money and nowhere to live, they have little choice but to relocate to Schitt’s Creek, a Podunk town that Johnny once bought David as a joke. Their new home is the town’s no-frills one-storey motel, and the foursome, who had previously been preoccupied with their own extravagant lives, learn to become a real family. “When you get down to it, the stories are about who people are, not what they are,” said Eugene Levy.
Once settled into their new life, the Rose family has to contend with the town’s scruffy mayor, Roland Schitt (Chris Elliott), his wife, high school teacher Jocelyn (Jennifer Robertson), the sarcastic motel receptionist, Stevie Budd (Emily Hampshire), and café waitress Twyla (Eugene Levy’s real-life daughter, Sarah Levy).
Schitt’s Creek, filmed in Ontario, premièred in 2015 on CBC in Canada and Pop TV in America. It’s produced by Not a Real Company Productions Inc. In 2017, the show started airing on Netflix as well, and viewership soared. The series has won numerous awards, including Canadian Screen Awards, and an MTV Movie and TV Award for Daniel Levy.
Initially, Daniel Levy came to his dad with the show’s premise and a script. “In the beginning, it was a way to do something with your son,” recalled Eugene Levy. “We started it as a great project and wanted to make it as far as we could. We ended up getting it on the air in Canada on a real network – and I thought that was great. Cut to five years later and, thanks in a major way to Daniel, who has guided this to a brilliant conclusion, Schitt’s Creek has received so much acclamation and passion from fans.”
Pop TV’s Schitt’s Creek: A Screening and Conversation featured, left to right, Eugene Levy, Catherine O’Hara, Daniel Levy and Annie Murphy, and was moderated by Vanity Fair’s Richard Lawson. (photo by Rod Morata/Michael Priest Photography)
Each season, the writers have been able to advance storylines without crossing the line into absurdity, and the actors have been able to develop their characters’ unique personalities and eccentricities.
“I wanted to make sure the actors were challenged and excited about coming back [each season] to do their parts,” said Daniel Levy. “When you have a cast of this quality, an ensemble as extraordinary as we have, it would be a dishonour not to show up each season with great storylines, given the calibre of work that they do. The actors need to feel challenged and excited to come back to do their part – that’s what keeps them motivated. When things flatline, people check out.”
He continued, “When you create characters the audience loves, you can take them on a lot of terrific story rides. With the growth of the characters, we were able to add in a layer of sentimentality. Without sounding shmaltzy, there was such a collective sense of excitement with our cast and crew, that actors showed up to watch scenes that they weren’t even in.”
The show’s writing has revealed the characters’ different layers. Take Alexis, for example. While she is self-involved, mostly oblivious and enjoys referring to past relationships with Hollywood celebrities, she is still charming. “When we met Alexis on paper, she was not that likeable – she was quite shallow and selfish,” said Murphy about the character she plays. “But, when I got the breakdown for the audition, at the end it said, ‘a young Goldie Hawn,’ who is bubbly and effervescent, but grounded. I wanted to play her as a fully fleshed out human being. The writers did a good job letting her grow as a human. I have so much fun playing her.” (Alexis often exaggerates her hand gestures and is fond of saying, “Ew, David!” to her brother.)
Moira, the family matriarch, has become an iconic figure over the years. Before moving to Schitt’s Creek, she was a socialite, actress and inattentive mother – she didn’t even recall her daughter’s middle name! While she remains eccentric, self-absorbed and theatrical, she, too, is likeable. “Originally, I wanted to come up with a character I would have fun playing and people would love watching,” said O’Hara, who wears a variety of wigs in every episode. “I didn’t know anyone would care. But the writers kept giving me great opportunities.”
Moira accentuates inappropriate syllables when she speaks. How does she choose which syllables to accentuate? “In the moment, it just makes sense,” O’Hara said, laughing, and raising her voice at the word “sense.”
The character of David has a few obsessive-compulsive tendencies, is occasionally hypochondriacal, is into pop culture, has a keen eye for fashion and is often sweetly sarcastic. He opened the store Rose Apothecary and started to date Patrick (played by Noah Reid), his business partner. As the series progressed, the two fell in love and, in the last season, they plan their wedding. When asked if the sexuality addressed in the series caused advertisers to push back, Daniel Levy said he wasn’t aware of any advertiser having done so. “The networks have given us a lot of freedom,” he said, “and, for that, I am so grateful.”
From the beginning, Schitt’s Creek was a low-budget show. “We were just a little Canadian television show,” Daniel Levy admitted, adding that they didn’t exactly have the budget of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. “But not having money helped. We had to maximize our budget and were forced to be creative and put the little money we had on the screen. As the expression goes, diamonds are formed under extreme pressure. Great work happens where you are pushed to the limits.”
The final episode will air April 7. “It’s a beautiful conclusion to the series,” said Eugene Levy.
Daniel Levy wrote the last episode of the show in half a day. “Because we had exceptional writers who helped me make this show what it was, the last episode essentially wrote itself,” he said. “We didn’t want to backload a ton of stories, which can happen in some series finales. I didn’t want to be burdened with expectations of making it any bigger than it is, because it’s a small show. I didn’t want it to feel any bigger than any other episode we had done. I wanted our last episode to be just a great episode of TV.”
Alice Burdick Schweigeris a New York City-based freelance writer who has written for many national magazines, including Good Housekeeping, Family Circle, Woman’s Day and The Grand Magazine. She specializes in writing about Broadway, entertainment, travel and health, and covers Broadway for the Jewish News. She is co-author of the 2004 book Secrets of the Sexually Satisfied Woman, with Jennifer Berman and Laura Berman.
Last week in this space, we addressed some of the challenges facing the Jewish people globally, which were put into stark relief by the latest edition of an Anti-Defamation League report titled Global 100. The most recent annual review of antisemitic attitudes worldwide paints a disheartening picture.
There are (at least) two inferences to draw from the report: that what we’ve been doing to confront antisemitism isn’t working or, perhaps more disturbing, they are working and, without them, the situation would be much worse.
First, a point that deserves repeating. Antisemitic ideas are most rampant in places where there are few or no Jews, because antisemitism is far less about Jews than about the antisemites and their need for scapegoating or other psychosocial outlets. But that fact is of limited comfort for the Jewish woman attacked on the subway or the hundreds of people evacuated from Jewish community centres around New York state last Sunday due to bomb threats.
We who are writing these words and you who are reading them can, for the most part, do little about the global situation, but the familiar saying, “Think globally, act locally,” rings as true as ever. While there are myriad organizations working nationally and internationally in the interests of the Jewish community and Israel – and we would like to see more of that, as well as some means of quantifying their results – the greatest impacts most of us can have are probably right here in our own neighbourhoods.
Again, advertising the great achievements of Jews and Israel may not be the best strategy. There is no need for, or value in, diminishing Jewish achievement and pride, but there is value in simultaneously reinforcing the universal humanity of Jewish people.
Without reopening that can of worms about whether Trump (or Bolsinaro or Orban or Modi or Mohammad bin Salman) is bad for the Jews – because we have national and international organizations operating on those macro-diplomatic fronts – what can ordinary folks like us, who feel afraid, helpless and perhaps disenfranchised, do to have an impact and, no less crucially, feel less isolated and disempowered?
As individuals, we can engage with others in our midst: with the church down the street, the service clubs in our communities, the ethnocultural groups that abound in Vancouver and across Canada, and the pet parents we meet at the dog park. The objective, we think, should not be a full court press to persuade these people that Jews are awesome. The point should be to rebuild the relationships that Jewish communities and individuals have enjoyed with the broader Canadian mosaic; not to advocate for these other groups and individuals to stand with us, but to stand with them so that, together, we form bonds of mutual understanding and care.
It is sometimes noted, especially on social media and in conversations among friends – you’ve certainly heard it – that some of the most concerning voices today are not coming from far-right radicals (though these are troubling) but from ostensibly reasonable people on the left. Ameliorating this challenge is not going to come from declaring them the enemy and polarizing our voices with their opposite – which is what is happening quite frequently in a perilous form of the-enemy-of-my-enemy-is-my-friend construction (see Trump/Bolsinaro/Orban/Modi/MBS above). The challenge will be addressed by rebuilding or strengthening the bridges between our communities and causes – not because it is the expedient thing to do, but because it is the right thing to do.
Last week on the front page, we featured two (of many) individuals in our community who are leading local voices in the movement against climate change, each using different strategies toward the same goal. They are not doing this as ambassadors of the Jewish people, of course, but they are doing so as Jews, motivated by their values and urgent commitment to saving the planet. They are Jewish allies in a diverse mix of dedicated activists.
Countless other Jewish community members are working across faiths and cultures to advance all the communities they encounter. Holocaust survivors are partnering with indigenous residential schools survivors in joint educational initiatives, and there are Jews who are actively supporting the Japanese community’s call for redress from the B.C. government for its role in the grave mistreatment of Japanese-Canadians during the Second World War. Local Jewish groups and individuals are doing everything from working to stop human trafficking to sponsoring Syrian refugees to participating in interfaith activities to making food for the homeless.
The pages of this paper are filled regularly with stories that are not, let’s say, Jewish-specific, but of Jewish people making positive contributions to the world. Motivated by a vast range of factors, often by their Jewish values, these points of light in the world are acting on issues important to them and building interpersonal and cross-community bridges in the process.
When we began this two-part conversation last week, we pointed out that, if we had the solution to antisemitism, you would have heard it. We don’t. It seems nobody does. The work being done at the national and international levels by the vast network of Jewish and Zionist organizations is mostly admirable and should be supported. But each of us also needs to look closer to home and remember that, as Margaret Mead said, a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world – and perhaps make some friends along the way.
While celebrating and preserving what is unique in our Jewishness, we should also enhance what was successful in parts of the 20th century: allying with the diversity of individuals and groups in our multicultural society to remind them – and ourselves – that we are not alone, but part of a larger human enterprise.
Moe Berg as a catcher during his time in Major League Baseball. (photo from Irwin Berg)
Near the end of John Ford’s essential 1962 western, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, a newspaper editor coins the credo, “When the legend becomes fact, print the legend.”
The fact, as we all know, is that Americans are all-star myth-makers and myth-lovers. Many American Jewish boys caught the bug via the improbable immigrant saga of Moe Berg, a paradoxically brilliant professional athlete who led a secret second life as a spy for the U.S. government. How much of Berg’s story is true, though, and how much was legend passed among kvelling kids in the schoolyard?
Aviva Kempner, who hit a home run with her 1998 documentary about another Jewish ballplayer, The Life and Times of Hank Greenberg, was the obvious, natural and best-equipped filmmaker to take on the mid-20th-century mysteries at the heart of Berg’s minor celebrity.
The Spy Behind Home Plate, which screens at the Vancouver Jewish Film Festival March 8 at the Rothstein Theatre, is a testament to Kempner’s determination and persistence. Chock full of dozens of contemporary and archival interviews, and packed with rare photos and even rarer film footage, The Spy Behind Home Plate is a definitive record of Berg’s achievements.
Although it’s an effective way to impart information, the dogged, dog-eared marriage of talking heads, vintage visuals and period music can’t fully evoke the shadowy stealth and deadly risks of Berg’s wartime activities. Hamstrung by her budget, Kempner wasn’t able to stage reenactments or employ other strategies to illustrate the unfilmed and unrecorded liaisons and conversations that Berg had in Europe in 1944 and 1945. The Spy Behind Home Plate, therefore, is like the steady everyday player who notches the occasional three-hit game but never achieves the transcendent grace and power of a superstar.
Morris (Moe) Berg, international man of mystery, was born in New York in 1902. His father had fled a Ukrainian shtetl for the Lower East Side, where he started a laundry before buying a drugstore in Newark.
The family moved to New Jersey when Moe was a boy, and he grew into an excellent student and a terrific baseball player. After a year at New York University, he transferred to Princeton, where he was a star shortstop (back when the Ivy League was the top, if not the only, sports conference) and graduated Phi Beta Kappa.
While his older brother Sam fulfilled Dad’s wishes and went to medical school, Moe signed a contract to play pro ball. He acceded to his father’s demands up to a point by attending Columbia Law School in the off-seasons, earning his degree and passing the New York bar in 1929.
It was a false bargain: Moe despised the idea of being a lawyer, while Bernard Berg never accepted a baseball career as a legitimate pursuit. In fact, the old man refused to go to the park and see his son play.
From an athletics standpoint, his dad wasn’t missing much. A knee injury early in Moe’s career, compounded by primitive diagnosis and treatment, severely slowed him. Over 15 years as a backup catcher, Berg notched exactly 441 hits in 663 games.
What set Moe apart was his charm, charisma and erudition. He studied Sanskrit at the Sorbonne one off-season, and read multiple newspapers every day. When he went to Japan on a barnstorming tour with Babe Ruth and other Major League stars, he learned Japanese.
Berg carried a camera everywhere on that trip, and made a point of checking out the roof of a tall Tokyo hotel in order to shoot a 360-degree panorama of the city. It’s not altogether clear if he was already working officially (albeit surreptitiously) for the U.S. government, but his film was of significant help when the United States went to war with Japan after Pearl Harbor.
In fact, in early 1942, Berg recorded a radio segment in Japanese that was broadcast in Japan and drew on the goodwill he’d accumulated over two prewar visits.
Moe Berg in a military jeep in California with his brother Sam during the war, July 1942. (photo from Irwin Berg)
Berg had been sent on research missions to South America, but that was too far from the real action. It appears he found a home in 1943 in the newly created Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the intelligence branch that evolved into the Central Intelligence Agency after the war.
His primary and crucial assignment was to ascertain how close the Germans were to having a nuclear weapon, and to sway Italian scientists from the Axis to the Allies. To successfully carry off his cover story, Berg was briefed on the science and strategy of the Manhattan Project.
One biographer recounts, “The OSS had given the Manhattan Project its own spy, in effect, its own field agent to pursue questions of interest wherever he could in Europe. And that was Moe Berg.”
Kempner accords a great deal of screen time to this episode in Berg’s clandestine career as a professional spook. It’s a great story, in which the solidly built former catcher is assigned to attend a conference in Switzerland and determine – from the keynote speech by a visiting German scientist, Werner Heisenberg – if the Nazis are within reach of perfecting the bomb.
Berg carries a pistol to the symposium, with orders to use it on Heisenberg if he deems it necessary. It would be churlish of me to recount the outcome of Berg’s suicide mission except to say that the catcher-turned-spy who spoke seven languages lived unhappily ever after the war.
Kempner leaves us wanting to know more about Berg’s later years. By the weirdest of coincidences, Sam Berg headed a group of doctors sent to Nagasaki to study the effects of radiation poisoning. Incredibly, Moe and Sam never knew about each other’s exploits. This lone fact reveals that there’s still more to know about Moe Berg’s story.
The Vancouver Jewish Film Festival runs until March 8. For tickets and the movie schedule, visit vjff.org.
Michael Foxis a writer and film critic living in San Francisco.
Having always lived in and around rainforest, CBC Vancouver’s Matthew Lazin-Ryder said the desert is a place he still struggles to fully understand.
“The desert has always seemed to be an imaginary place,” said Lazin-Ryder, contributing producer of the radio-documentary What Happens in the Desert. “My only contact with the desert has been in movies, storybooks, religious metaphors and things like that. The closest I have ever gotten to the real desert is having spent a little time in New Mexico, but, even then, I don’t think I was in true, scientific desert. My impression of what the desert was in my imagination was different than reality.
“One thing I wasn’t prepared for in my time in New Mexico was how cold it got at night, because it can get really cold. The imaginary desert in my mind was always hot – nights are sweltering, empty spaces, desolation.”
Matthew Lazin-Ryder, contributing producer of the CBC radio-documentary What Happens in the Desert. (photo from CBC Radio)
In the radio documentary, which is an episode of the CBC Radio show Ideas, Lazin-Ryder explores various perceptions of the desert, stemming from culture, such as movies, novels and poetry, which often only portray one aspect of the landscape.
“An example we use in the documentary is Monument Valley in Utah, which, if you’ve seen a western film, it’s in so many movies,” Lazin-Ryder, who is a member of the Jewish community, told the Independent. “So, Monument Valley is that part of Utah, with red sand and rock, with these big towers of rock jutting out of the middle of the desert. John Ford, legendary western director, shot over 10 movies there at Monument Valley and lots of other classic western movies have used the backdrop of this valley as the setting.”
However, while it may seem that many films are shot in Monument Valley, most are actually shot in less-known locations in states like Texas, California and Arizona.
“It’s never specifically that this movie or story is taking place in Monument Valley,” said Lazin-Ryder. “It just becomes a symbol of the desert, which is a stand-in for an alien place, an exotic place, a place that you’ve never been to.”
From a religious perspective, the experts Lazin-Ryder interviews often speak of duality, where the desert is both a place where God is absent and where God is felt the strongest.
“The desert, in the Old Testament, is a place of deep spirituality and is also, for the Israelites, the place where they encounter God, where God travels with them,” he explained. “In the Christian New Testament and Christian culture later on, the desert becomes a place, not of exile and separation from God, but a place you go to escape civilization and to connect with God. Simultaneously, it’s a place where there are dangers … and the devil lives there and there are poisonous creatures, and it’s a place of death, wasteland and absence of God. But, at the same time, the desert is the place, both for the Israelites and early Christians, a place to go to connect with God.
“In a sense,” he said, “the desert, through its absence, represents God, because you can’t fully describe God – you can’t fully describe absence. The desert represents this strange relationship that we have with God, in a religious metaphor – at the same time that God is everything, God is nothing, and indescribable.”
In the documentary, Lazin-Ryder talks about the way the desert is portrayed in science-related and apocalyptic movies – movies that portray the future world as a desert; that climate change, if it continues apace, will leave the whole earth a desert.
“The seas will dry up, the forests will die and everything will be desert waste … which is not particularly an ecologically valid prediction … but, it’s a helpful metaphor for people to think about the dangers of climate change,” he said.
“The other thing is that, when talking about climate change and things like switching to less carbon-intensive energy, the desert becomes a very easy thing for people to say … ‘Hey! You know what would be great? Let’s just put a whole bunch of solar panels and windmills and stuff in the desert, because that’s empty land and it gets a lot of sun.’ You can Google it – there are all kinds of plans that people have pushed, to put acres and acres of solar panels in the Mojave Desert, the Sonoran Desert or the Sahara Desert.
“It’s this kind of a science-fiction idea that, hey, we have these empty spaces on the earth – let’s absolutely fill them with solar panels and windmills. But, the problem with that is – it comes from this thinking about deserts as though they are empty, ownerless places, absent of life. And, the problem is that that’s not true. Deserts are full of life, of plants and of animals that have adapted in interesting ways. And, we also don’t quite understand the place that deserts have in the broader ecosystem, in terms of the carbon cycle.”
While we hear in the news about desertification, in actuality only some deserts may get bigger and others drier, he said. Very few reports talk about the fact that some deserts may get wetter and, in a sense, shrink.
Desert systems are intricate and delicate and we, as humans, often only notice a change when it is already too late. Lazin-Ryder gave the example of the Joshua trees in the Mojave Desert that are dying, and the efforts to preserve them.
“Those kinds of problems are expected to increase as climate change goes on,” he said. But, talking about the desert as merely land available to fix the problems that we have created, “neglects the fact that they are not absent, marginal places. They actually have a place in the world. Deserts are a natural thing that should exist on the earth,” he said. “And there will be increasing pressures to put things in the desert, to put people in the desert, to grow food in the desert – despite the fact that they are as important and as under threat as places like the rainforests and wetlands that we’re trying to preserve. So, on one hand, we’re afraid the future might become desert, but, on the other hand, we may want to think about how to preserve the deserts we already have, as there are many threats to the desert.”
Lazin-Ryder hopes listeners of the documentary will gain a better grasp of the nuances of the desert. For most people in the West, he said, “interaction with the desert is in an imaginary sense … either in religious texts, fiction or movies.” The show tries to get people to consider “what those metaphors and symbols do to our thinking – not just about the desert, but of all the natural world; in what places are worth preserving, celebrating, and what places we think of as marginal, empty, dead or inherently bad.
“We get lots of stories told to us all the time, about what parts of the earth are good or bad,” he said. “I think, ultimately, beyond whether we’re talking about deserts, dry land or wet land, my ultimate hope is that it helps people think about the stories that we tell ourselves about the natural world, versus trying to gain an understanding about how the natural world actually works.”
Author Cheri Tannenbaum gives a talk about her book, A Woman of Few Words. (photo from Gefen Publishing House)
“Happiness is a choice,” writes Cheri Tannenbaum in her book Woman of Few Words: My Creative Journey with Dystonia (Gefen Publishing House, 2019).
No one would blame Tannenbaum for not being happy, for staying in bed, for giving up. But that’s not who she is. “From the first day of my illness to this very day,” she writes, “I wake up each morning, say Modeh Ani (the prayer said upon waking in the morning), push myself out of bed, and consciously and deliberately choose life.”
Born in Edmonton, Tannenbaum is the oldest child of Samuel (z”l) and Frances Belzberg; the family moved to Vancouver when she was 16. With refreshing honesty, Tannenbaum shares her struggles with anorexia, but also some of the ways in which she was a “happy, fun-loving, gregarious, outgoing flower child” when she was in her teens. She writes about how she became religious, and it is her strong belief in God that has buoyed her since she became ill with dystonia at the age of 20, the first sign of which was that her “handwriting suddenly became totally illegible.” As well, her voice became monotonic, and other symptoms appeared, including severe difficulties in walking and, eventually, speaking, a symptom that, very much later in life, was remedied, as the unexpected result of medication intended for another purpose.
Woman of Few Words details Tannenbaum’s life with dystonia, which, according to the Dystonia Medical Research Foundation, which was founded by her parents, “is characterized by involuntary muscle contractions and spasms.” She openly talks about the time she attempted suicide and the difficulties she had in having children. She offers thoughts on living with the illness and lessons she has learned, as well as several pages on dystonia and many inspirational quotes from various sources.
Tannenbaum has a bachelor’s in psychology and a master’s in human development. She has followed her passion – art – in more than one creative direction. She has a long-lasting marriage, three children, grandchildren, and family and friends who care about her, and she has lived in several places in the world, making her home in Efrat, Israel. As she writes, “Dystonia is not my essence, nor does it define me.” It does, however, present many challenges.
“If I didn’t have the belief that there is an all-loving, all-powerful G-d who runs the world and has a master plan, then all challenges are just random; things that happen are just occurrences coming from nowhere…. Most probably, those challenges would feel meaningless and purposeless,” she told the Independent.
Tannenbaum responds to every reader who sends her a note. “The notes I have gotten have been extremely positive, telling me how I have helped them or given them a different perspective, etc.”
She said, “If I were to have gotten only one response that I have touched one person’s soul then I have accomplished what I set out to do – baruch Hashem, I have gotten more than one.”
Tannenbaum’s mother shared some of the ways in which her daughter’s illness affected the family.
“Cheri’s illness was slow in showing itself so, at first, her tripping or falling or dropping things was almost a joke for her siblings,” said Belzberg, who has three other children. “I took her to our family doctor, who said it was just teen angst, then that it was physiological, so she saw a psychiatrist, who said she was fine, so back to the GP.
“As her condition became worse, I began shopping for different kinds of medical advice locally and even to Scripps Clinic in California, and still no answers.
“In the meantime,” said Belzberg, “Cheri met Harvey, married and moved to Los Angeles … and her condition worsened.”
Belzberg said it took almost five years for them to get a diagnosis and a name for her daughter’s condition: dystonia muscular deformans. “There were, at that time, three known patients,” said Belzberg. “Today, we have several hundred on this continent alone.”
With no known patients and no known treatment or cure, Belzberg said, “My husband mobilized with the help of two doctors from UCLA [University of California, Los Angeles], Dr. John Menkes and Dr. Charles Markham; we gathered about five or six known neurologists from across the U.S. and began to do research. Meetings were set up for every two weeks and both my husband and I monitored the meetings between the experts … with the whole purpose of finding everything there was to know about the disease and how to treat it.
“Word got out that this was being addressed and there was more interest from within the research community,” she said. “We got a grant from the NIH [National Institutes of Health], plus our own … financial support, to establish ourselves, and began a series of research conferences with different doctors with different specialties. That was almost 40 years ago and, this June, there will be the Samuel Belzberg 6th International Dystonia Symposium in Dublin, Ireland, the latest in our international annual meetings.
“Through our persistence, as parents, we have created an international research body with a large patient list and researchers waiting to have their grants financed,” said Belzberg. “We also – as parents and ones who are crucially and emotionally involved – started our own scientific board and monitored them ourselves. We set a precedent – no other research board that we know of allows lay people to actually participate, verbally, in the discussions as they ponder their findings.”
Belzberg noted that funding is always a concern because dystonia “is not a well-known disease or a recognizable name, though we fall in the category of MS [multiple sclerosis] and Parkinson’s.”
Asked what advice she would have for a parent of a child with a chronic illness, Belzberg said, “Every family has to deal with their own crises emotionally, spiritually, within their own strengths, and persist in finding answers. Chronic illnesses can be very wearing both for the patient and the family, so it takes a great deal of tolerance and understanding on the part of each to make it through the day.”
For someone who just found out they have a chronic illness, Tannenbaum said, “I would first give them a big hug and sit with them, hold their hands and just listen to them vent – how they feel about the diagnosis, their anger, their fear, their hopelessness, their ‘why me?’
“When they would be ready to hear me, I would tell them that there is a G-d, master of the universe, who loves you more than anyone else loves you in the whole wide world. Everything G-d does is for the good, even though I know it doesn’t feel that way right now. This is a test that G-d knows you can pass; otherwise, He wouldn’t have given it to you…. This is an opportunity for you to grow and to bring out your hidden potential and strengths that you never knew existed within you. Through this test, you can create miracles. Through this test, you can bring good and G-d into the world. Depending on your attitude and perspective, you will be able to help and change other people’s lives. This test is bringing you farther along to fulfilling the potential that only you can do.”
Dr. Gita Arian Baack, author of The Inheritors: Moving Forward from Generational Trauma. (photo from Gita Arian Baack)
Dr. Gita Arian Baack, author of The Inheritors: Moving Forward from Generational Trauma, was in town earlier this month to speak at the Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival and hold a three-day experiential workshop with the Second Generation Group in Vancouver.
The Ottawa-based counselor began her festival presentation with a quote from the late Israeli novelist Amos Oz, who wrote, “Our past belongs to us, but we do not belong to it.” For Baack, the quote underscores her message to inheritors of the Shoah – that “we were given life and an obligation to bear witness and honour the martyrs and heroes of the Holocaust. And that we also have the right to live full and joyful lives.”
“Generational trauma stems from devastating events which transpired before we were born,” Baack told the Independent. “In the case of the Holocaust, we have experienced it from birth; it is as if we were there. We carry an unrelenting sadness, sense of absence and betrayal.”
The ultimate question her book explores is: “How can we live a full life despite the difficult trauma we inherited?”
Prior to writing The Inheritors, Baack conducted doctoral research into the subject of intergenerational trauma and resilience, yet what she uncovered did not fit or go deeply enough into either. Often, resilience is described as bouncing back with support from others. But, she said, “You don’t bounce back from the Holocaust!”
She was resolved to unravel answers to these and other questions, such as why are so many of us resilient and compassionate despite our inherited trauma? Do we carry memory from one generation to another? How do we move forward, when the usual therapies for trauma have proven not to work for us?
“We are also faced with the difficulty of piecing together our family stories,” said Baack. “Much of our family stories are full of holes, unknowns and even secrets, our roots destroyed. Understandably, we have strong emotions but don’t know how to deal with them; for example, excessive sadness, fear of authority, worry, lack of trust, lack of safety, etc.”
Further, inherited trauma is often frozen, embedded in the brain stem, also known as the primitive brain – accessing it is difficult, but it can be done, she said.
Baack noted that ancient wisdom, the Bible and new epigenetic scientific research explain that trauma is passed onto generations in the DNA, and even the cells, for as many as seven generations. She strongly believes that this is the case if it is acknowledged and processed; if it is not, then it can take longer than seven generations.
Though Baack’s own experience is being a child of Holocaust survivors, The Inheritors encompasses others who have been victimized: Canada’s indigenous population, survivors of the Rwandan genocide and of several other horrible episodes of recent history. The book also looks at trauma on a personal level, from those who have suffered as a result of natural disaster, an accident, economic hardship, the justice or education system, illness or loss of a loved one.
The intent of The Inheritors is to serve as a tool for moving forward, said Baack. The book is filled with dialogues, poetry and stories from people of different backgrounds. Readers are invited to explore their story, and there are questions at the end of each chapter to help them process that story and, in so doing, transform their pain. At the least, in the end, they will have a written story as a legacy to their descendants.
The Inheritors has had other, unexpected, impacts. For example, the conductor of the North Carolina State University orchestra commissioned composer and flutist Allison Loggins-Hull to write a piece for an upcoming performance and she has chosen to write a work inspired by the book – Inheritors Overture will première on April 5 in Raleigh, N.C.
The group dialogues that Baack conducts offer a means of validation through other people with similar experiences and various experiential tools that can help further a deeper exploration of their trauma stories, the “undiscussables” and the unknowns. Group participants, she said, are often surprised by the creativity, laughter and camaraderie that arise.
The Inheritors is dedicated to (and inspired by) Baack’s two half-siblings. “From my earliest beginnings, I remember carrying a great sadness for my siblings, Henush and Halina Arian, who were only 4 and 3 years old, respectively, when they were killed,” she writes. There was no information about the circumstances of their death or burials, “But their existence was real and has mattered to me in an extraordinary way. And so I don’t fight the sadness; I embrace it. It has a special place. I am the carrier of their memory. This burden is the most cherished of all my burdens.”
At the age of 4 or 5, Baack had what she describes as a “knowing” or “inherited memory.” A “felt sense” told her, even at that young age, that her siblings, two of 1.5 million children killed by the Nazis, had both been shot in the back. When she asked her father how her half-siblings died, he said he didn’t know. Nonetheless, the memory (and feeling) she had inherited persisted, and could be placed on a spot in the middle of her back, with a knowing that her half siblings had been shot in that place.
Her research revealed that the timing of their deaths was before gas chambers had been built, and children under 5 were regularly shot. In 2019, a tour guide in Krakow pointed to the very street where the children and their mother were shot. To Baack, it was a stunning confirmation of her lifelong memory.
Baack has been consulting and coaching individuals and organizations for more than 30 years. She recently founded the Centre for Transformational Dialogue to help individuals and communities that have inherited devastating legacies. She also has written a book of verse, Poems of Angst and Awe, published in 2017.
For more information, visit gitabaack.com. Baack continues to research inherited memory and wishes to hear from others on the subject. She can be reached at [email protected].
Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.
Courtney Cohen holds a photo of her grandmothers, Rose Lewin, left, and Babs Cohen. (photo by Lianne Cohen Photography)
The seventh annual Rose’s Angels took place at Richmond Jewish Day School on Feb. 16. Held under the umbrella of the Kehila Society of Richmond, the event was founded by Courtney Cohen and Lynne Fader in 2013, in memory of Cohen’s grandmothers, Rose Lewin, who was a Holocaust survivor, and Babs Cohen. This year’s gathering saw the largest turnout for volunteers, with approximately 80 family, friends and community members coming together to assemble more than 1,000 care packages and several hundred warmth bundles, which were delivered to partner agencies.
A total of 24 not-for-profit agencies receive the care packages for their clients. Participating agencies included, but were not limited to, Richmond Family Place, Chimo Community Services, Jewish Family Services, Richmond Food Bank, Richmond Centre for Disability, Heart of Richmond AIDS Society, RainCity Housing, Richmond Multicultural Community Services and Gilmore Park United Church.
More than 1,000 care packages were packaged on Feb. 16. (photo by Lianne Cohen Photography)
The packages consisted of toiletries, such as shampoo, soap and toothbrush; feminine hygiene products, including tampons, hair accessories, nail file and makeup; books, note pads, and arts and craft supplies; non-perishable food items, such as juice, oatmeal, granola bars, soup, coffee packets, trail mix and chocolate; and socks, gloves and scarves.
The items included in the packages were tailored to meet the needs of the recipients, as Fader and Cohen asked the agencies involved to survey their clients as to what items they would like to receive. The feminine hygiene and makeup products are donated via the Beauty for Babs component of Rose’s Angels, said Cohen.
“This event would not be possible,” she said, “if it wasn’t for our incredible donors and volunteers, who allow this event to be successful year after year. Individuals and businesses donate to Rose’s Angels through the Kehila Society of Richmond.”
Volunteers at this year’s Rose’s Angels, which took place on Feb. 16 at Richmond Jewish Day School. (photo by Lianne Cohen Photography)
She added, “People want to volunteer in their community and, sometimes, they don’t have the resources or connections that allow them to carry out their desire to give back. Rose’s Angels has grown into a strong pillar event in our community and it’s wonderful to see volunteers of all ages coming together to assemble care packages for those who they will never meet. It’s inspirational.”
Rose’s Angels takes place in February because, said Cohen, February is a special month – it’s Heart Month, Valentine’s Day and the month of her grandmother Rose Lewin’s birthday. Since its inception in 2013, the annual event has created and donated more than 5,000 care packages Richmond-wide, she said.
For more information about Rose’s Angels or to make a donation, contact Cohen or Fader at the Kehila Society of Richmond, 604-241-9270, or [email protected]. For more information about the Kehila Society, visit kehilasociety.org.
On Feb. 20, Vancouver-based artist Dina Goldstein’s Snapshots from the Garden of Eden opened at the Museum of Jewish Montreal (imjm.ca). The exhibit will be on display until May 17.
A collection of 11 large-scale black-and-white photographs, Snapshots re-imagines modernized versions of characters and passages from Jewish fairytales, folk stories and legends collected in the book Leaves from the Garden of Eden by award-winning folklorist Howard Schwartz. Drawn from Jewish oral and written traditions across the centuries, the stories span the Jewish world – from Italy to Afghanistan – bringing to life the diversity and vibrancy of this overlooked area of Jewish storytelling and heritage.
Renowned for her reinterpretations of cultural symbols, Goldstein’s Snapshots reframes Jewish lore both famed and forgotten through the eyes of the 21st century. “The resonance of Goldstein’s work stems from her ability to weave intricate visual narratives,” said curator Alyssa Stokvis-Hauer, “where the history of Jewish folklore is catapulted into the modern era with a cast of characters and film noir-esque scenes that are provocative, imaginative and layered with meaning.”
Playing with visual and narrative archetypes, Goldstein creates new connections and relevance by merging the traditional and whimsical with contemporary themes of technology, desire, justice and identity, exploring and reinvigorating the history and role of Jewish folk narratives in broader cultural memory.
Life is such an adventure, but its appeal for us depends so much on our attitude. One of the amazing things about this fact – that our attitude makes all the difference – is that this appears to be a law of nature. How we “reflect off” the events in our lives is crucial to our fate.
Most of us know a little bit about the nature of sight, the mechanics of seeing. We know less about the role played by light in our world. Light travels in units called photons. We know that these photons travel really fast, even when they have to bounce around in a world full of atoms to get where they are headed, which is everywhere. Photons travel so fast, we don’t notice that random atoms are impeding their progress a bit. In spite of that, they reflect off all the objects in our world and succeed in entering our eyes.
The lenses in our eyes focus this reflected light onto the light-sensitive rods and cones on the retina at the back of our eyeballs. (The rods work in dim or dark situations and the cones in bright light.) These create variable electrical charges sent along the optic nerve to the brain. Our brains interpret these stimuli as the visions that we see before our eyes. Did you know that the curvature of our eyes results in the images we receive being upside down? Our brains turn them right-side up for us.
What we are seeing is the reflected light. Any light absorbed by the objects we are looking at, we will not see. The same is true about colour. We only see the colours that the objects we are looking at reflect. All other colours are the ones that have been absorbed by these objects and we will not see them. Colour is all about light reflecting off the things in the world around us.
In the same way, it is our reactions to the realities we face in life that determine the kinds of lives we will lead. Different reactions, different lives. What does it mean to say that our reactions can be of overwhelming importance in determining our fates? It means that, to an important extent, our fates are in our own hands. (What does that do to the blame-games we have been nursing all our lives?)
I am getting to be what some people might term “an old guy.” Others, less kind, might say, “an old fool.” One would have to be foolish to live a whole life without understanding the principle I have enunciated above. And yet, it is only at this late date that this has become so clear to me.
Of course, I always knew I had to hustle my butt if I wanted to achieve the things I desired for my family and me. Yet, I never achieved the clarity of insight that I now have. I would venture to say that there are others of my fellow travelers who might have been, who might still be, wanting in this matter.
When all is said and done, there is no substitute for having a positive attitude. There are so many good things in our lives that we have to appreciate, that we have to be grateful for. There are so many people we pass every day who are less fortunate than we are. But that does not absolve us from the need to actively present our own best case to the world, to be up and at ’em every day, meeting the challenges we all face and will face. Without that, we are beat before we start.
Being open to the positive is a necessity if we hope to take advantage of any opportunities that might come our way if we reach out. Like the photons of light in our world, we move forward in our lives toward our goals in spite of impediments we might face; or we find paths to goals we hadn’t considered before.
I am not talking merely about amassing material possessions. I am talking about spending time working out how to ensure we are adding the colour we want to see in our lives. If all of this is dependent wholly on ourselves to determine what the elements of our lives are going to be – not our parents or our partners or our bosses or the economy – then what are we going to do about it? If, in spite of our positive attitude, we are not happy, if we are not satisfied, what are we going to do about it? I must confess, I never had this moment of clarity until I was 70 years of age. That’s a whole lot of living to have gone through without thinking about such things.
At the age of 71, unheralded, I flew across half a continent to try and reconnect with a woman I had known when we were teenagers more than 50 years before. I can report that we can look back now at almost 15 years of happily married life. We are keeping each other alive.
So, what I am writing about here is seeing the reflections off the objects (subjects?) that make up the elements of our lives. We have to be aware of the reflections streaming into our eyes, and consciously translate the images making their way into our brain. What colours are being reflected? Are we absorbing what those images are telling us? Or are we seeing them without really seeing them, same old, same old? And, if we do see them, and we don’t like what we see, what are we going to do about it? It is never too late to make an effort, I can tell you that!
Max Roytenbergis a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.
