Itamar Erez takes part in International Guitar Night Feb. 1. (photo by Diane Smithers)
International Guitar Night returns to Massey Theatre on Feb. 1. This year’s all-Canadian tour features classical and flamenco guitarist Itamar Erez, jazz guitarist and vocalist Jocelyn Gould, harp guitar innovator and fingerstyle virtuoso Jamie Dupuis, and flamenco guitarist Caroline Planté.
Erez is an internationally acclaimed guitarist and composer whose music fuses Middle Eastern delicacy, jazz improvisation and other world music influences. A recipient of both the 2014 ACUM Prize for Special Achievement in Jazz and the Landau Prize, he has shared the stage with artists such as Omar Faruk Tekbilek, Tomatito and Avishai Cohen, performing at venues including Carnegie Hall, the Barbican and the Sydney Opera House. His albums Mi Alegria (2019), May Song (2022) and Migrant Voices (2024, with Hamin Honari) explore the interplay of global musical languages. Erez tours widely throughout Europe, North America and the Middle East.
Gould, a JUNO Award-winning guitarist and vocalist, is known for her soulful tone, modern bebop phrasing and charismatic presence. She has shared stages with Freddy Cole, Bria Skonberg and Michael Dease, among others. Her four solo albums include Elegant Traveler (2021 JUNO winner) and Sonic Bouquet (2024 JUNO nominee).
Dupuis is a guitarist and composer celebrated for his fingerstyle technique and his distinctive voice on the harp guitar. His viral 2016 cover of Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb” earned more than 19 million views and international acclaim. Winner of the Canadian Guitar Festival Competition (2016), he combines classical training with influences from rock, jazz and folk.
Planté is one of the world’s few prominent female flamenco guitarists and a pioneering voice in contemporary flamenco composition. Born in Montréal and trained in both Canada and Spain, she studied with master musicians and led Cruceta Flamenco in Madrid as musical director and composer from 2005 to 2013. Her 2010 album 8 Reflexiones made history as the first flamenco CD composed and recorded by a woman, receiving international acclaim.
Since returning to Montréal in 2013, Planté has launched various projects and collaborated with flamenco artists from diverse backgrounds. Her latest work, The Roses of Lorca, premiered in 2024 and draws inspiration from Spanish poet Federico García Lorca.
Robert “Lucky” Budd, left, and Roy Henry Vickers have co-authored close to 20 books together, with more to be released in 2026. (photo from “Lucky” Budd)
As oral historian Robert “Lucky” Budd tells it, his collaboration with First Nations artist Roy Henry Vickers, which has produced several award-winning and bestselling books, was accurately summed up during a car ride with Vickers’ sister, Patricia, as a unique version of a father-son bond.
“Roy’s the same age as both of my parents, and I am the same age as one of his sons. So, we do have this relationship that’s very, very close, and there definitely is a bit of a father-son element to it,” said Budd, who is a member of the Victoria Jewish community.
“I consider him one of my closest friends, and I love learning with and from him, and we learn a lot together, and he teaches me something all the time. I’m so deeply interested in the stories he has to share.”
For the past 14 years, the pair has teamed up on a variety of projects, but the path that led them to one another, according to Budd, goes back decades, to when Vickers was in high school in Victoria.
His art teacher, realizing that there was little to teach his student, tasked the young Vickers with delving into the art of the Tsimshian and the Haida. Missing his home on the Skeena River, in Hazelton, Vickers started his research, but his efforts yielded no results until he met cultural anthropologist Wilson Duff.
Through Duff, Vickers was able to locate books and recordings, such as those produced by CBC journalist Imbert Orchard, who, from 1959 to 1966, recorded interviews with BC pioneers and those from First Nations. On the cassettes, Vickers listened to stories of the people of the Tsimshian and was moved.
“Over the years, he ended up losing those tapes, but it stuck with him. And so, around 2009, 2010, he went on a mission to try to find those recordings,” Budd said.
Vickers got in touch with the BC Archives, but nobody there knew what he was talking about, until he spoke to someone who said, “Oh, I think the person you’re supposed to be talking to is Lucky Budd.”
Vickers called Budd, asking for help in retrieving the recordings, and their work together began.
Budd holds a master’s in history from the University of Victoria; he is also a rock musician with a penchant for recording everything. At the time of Vickers’ call, he was digitizing audio recordings owned by the CBC and the BC Archives.
“The crown jewel was the Orchard Collection,” said Budd. “And it hit me very early on that I was supposed to turn that material into a book because I was getting an education on the history of the province that no one had ever heard before.”
Budd’s first book, Voices of British Columbia, was based on those recordings, and many of the ones that interested Vickers were in the book.
Budd returned Vickers’ call, telling him, “I know exactly who you are, I know exactly what you’re looking for, I can help you find those stories. It’d be my pleasure to do so.”
By this time, Budd had started a business, Memories to Memoirs, where he interviews and records people to help them tell their stories. He asked Vickers if he had thought of sharing his.
“He said, ‘Oh no, no, no, I’m way too young to do a thing like that,’” Budd recalled. “I was joking with him, and I took a little risk, and I said, ‘Hey man, didn’t you just release a print called “65 Years”? Doesn’t that mean that you get an old-age pension?’ And I started laughing, and he said, ‘OK.’”
After deciding that he had found the right person to work on his story, Vickers invited Budd to visit him in Tofino on Nov. 11, 2011.
“We hit it off like old friends. Roy, in that moment, was, like, if this isn’t the voice of the Creator saying that we ought to be working together, I don’t know what it is,” Budd recalled.
“Lucky has been an inspiration for me since the day we met,” Vickers told the Independent. “His enthusiasm and positivity is uplifting. Lucky has impressed upon me the importance of writing my stories.”
In the 14 years since their first meeting, the duo has co-authored close to 20 books, with more to be released in 2026. Their published titles, such as Raven Brings the Light (2013), Cloudwalker (2014), Orca Chief (2015) and Peace Dancer (2016), have sold well and brought home awards.
The two have also put together board books for children featuring Vickers’ artwork: Hello Humpback! (2017), One Eagle Soaring (2018) and Sockeye Silver, Saltchuck Blue (2019). In 2026, Harbour Publishing will be releasing Summer Brings Berries, a board book using rhyming text and colourful imagery to explore and celebrate traditional foods of the West Coast.
Additionally, Budd and Vickers have two other books coming out next year: a children’s colouring book and an art book celebrating Vickers’ 80th birthday.
“I am an oral historian,” said Budd. “I work in the medium of storytelling, and he’s one of the best storytellers I can imagine. We get on the phone and we start talking and, the next thing I know, 45 minutes or an hour has gone by, and he’s told me a ton of different stories.”
Besides his books, Vickers is recognized as a printmaker, painter, carver, designer, author and keynote speaker. Among his numerous accolades is a nomination for a Grammy Award in 2019 for his artwork on a box set of Grateful Dead recordings.
Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.
As the owner of the 95-year-old Jewish Independent, I know full well that our Jewish community is built on the shoulders of those came before us. It is upon this foundation that we continue to grow, keeping our institutions going, while also starting new ventures and winding up groups that have served their purpose. Sometimes an organization will rebrand and recreate itself, sometimes it will reconnect with and reestablish its roots.
It is with these thoughts in mind that I watched the short documentary film Four Pillars of Peretz, which premiered last month at the Peretz Centre for Secular Jewish Culture. But it was also more personal than that, as I knew the four women being profiled: Bluma Field, Sylvia Friedman, Claire Klein Osipov and Gallia Chud, all of whom have passed away. To me, these women exemplified grace and grit. They were doers and they lived by their beliefs – most important, to me, though, was that they welcomed me, made a place for me, treated me as if I mattered, despite my holding very different views than they did on many things.
Bluma Field, left, and Claire Klein Osipov. (screenshot)
Nothing in filmmaker Michael Kissinger’s 36-minute documentary shattered the notion that they treated everyone with such respect, for which I’m grateful. I want to remember these women this way. A key element I feel is missing in the world today is this ability to be friends, or at least be civil to, people with different opinions. We are so polarized that our own views – and our need to express them – often take precedence over making another human feel, well, human.
I know that this phenomenon is nothing new. As is the case with most organizations, the Peretz Centre was started to fill a need that wasn’t being met by other groups at the time. Secular and socialist in nature, the Peretz has rarely “fit in” with the mainstream Jewish community over its 80-year history. While its politics held no interest for me, its focus on Yiddish culture, its choir in particular, did appeal to me and I was involved for some 30 years, having been introduced to the centre by Claire, who was the epitome of class – and, wow, what an incredible voice. She was close friends with my aunt, who also, sadly, has passed away.
Going down memory lane with Four Pillars of Peretz was truly a pleasure. For people who don’t know the four women profiled, I would still recommend watching it, if only to demystify the Peretz Centre. Community unity shouldn’t mean community uniformity, and everyone should be so lucky as to have at least one place where they feel welcome. We don’t need to belong everywhere, but it’s vital to our health, I think, that we belong somewhere.
Sylvia Friedman with her son, Michael Friedman. (screenshot)
Four Pillars of Peretz is also an example of what other organizations could do to honour their founders. Keeping history alive is so important, in my view. It’s not an inexpensive endeavour, but it’s worthwhile. In the case of this documentary, Kissinger really captures the spirits of these women and the way in which they still inspire others. Bluma, Sylvia, Claire and Gallia were by no means the only pillars of the Peretz Centre, but they were particularly driving forces, and they were so for decades.
“These stubborn old ladies, you know, they get sh*t done,” says Faith Jones, providing the first comments in the film, which features clips frominterviews with other Peretz members and with members of the women’s families. Through these snippets, as well as photographs and other archival material, you get a sense of the enormous amount of effort and love that it takes to start an organization and keep it running.
The film starts with an overview of the four women, then each gets their own spotlight. The snappy music and the way in which Kissinger has edited the film makes it move along smoothly, both communicating the challenges these women – and others in their generation – faced with tenacity, but also with joy.
“I think all of these women, if they were here today, would say that they got just as much out of it as they put into it, because it’s community,” says one of Gallia’s daughters, Rita Chudnovsky, near the end of the film. “And there’s no replacement for a sense of community, and that’s something that’s, I think, getting harder for people to find.”
In her talk at the White Rock South Surrey Jewish Community Centre on Nov. 23, Elana Wenner articulated what many in the room felt: that understanding our local history is not only a matter of dates and facts, but of recognizing the people and decisions that shaped Jewish life in British Columbia.
Wenner is director of programming and development at the Jewish Museum and Archives of British Columbia (JMABC). She offered participants at the WRSS JCC an opportunity to learn, ask questions and connect with a narrative that continues to inform how communities develop today.
Elana Wenner, director of programming and development at the Jewish Museum and Archives of British Columbia. (photo from JMABC)
Wenner framed the museum’s work as a living effort: one rooted in storytelling, preservation and accessibility. Since its founding in 1971, the museum has aimed to collect and safeguard materials that reflect the breadth of Jewish life across the province. While the JMABC’s office is in Vancouver, the physical archives are in Steveston, and much has been digitized. The museum’s holdings include an extensive collection of photographs, oral histories, community records and artifacts that trace the evolution of BC Jewish communities from the 1850s to the present. As Wenner explained, the goal is not only to document the past, but to continually bring it forward through tours, public programs and exhibitions that invite ongoing engagement.
A significant portion of the talk focused on the formation of early Jewish communities here, with Victoria serving as the central example. Wenner outlined how Jewish settlement in the province grew in tandem with broader economic shifts – particularly, the Fraser River Gold Rush of 1858, which drew thousands of newcomers, including Jews, arriving largely from San Francisco. Unlike many immigrant populations fleeing hardship, early Jewish settlers often came from stable or middle-class backgrounds, equipped with professional experience and communal networks established during prior periods of Jewish emancipation in Western Europe. This shaped the type of roles they took on upon arriving in British Columbia.
Rather than heading directly into the goldfields, Jewish settlers tended to create the infrastructure that supported the prospectors. Businesses, supply stores and service-oriented ventures were the backbone of Jews’ early contributions. By the 1860s, Jews owned a notable portion of the establishments in Victoria’s commercial district, helping transform what was still a young settlement into a functioning hub. One example highlighted in the talk was the Victoria Dry Goods Store, run by Kady Gambitz. Far more than a retail space, the store became a gathering point where members of the small but growing Jewish community could meet, organize, and exchange news. It became, as Wenner described, “a community centre before the community had a centre.”
This comment led into a discussion about what it takes to build a Jewish community from the ground up. Drawing on both historical evidence and contemporary observations, Wenner outlined several elements: a critical mass of people, stability and safety, access to kosher food and religious rituals, a cemetery, communal leadership and, eventually, the capacity for self-organization. In Victoria, one of the first formal steps was the creation of the Victoria Hebrew Benevolent Society around 1860/61, which coordinated charitable efforts and helped fund essential communal needs, including education and welfare. The society’s earliest priority, Wenner noted, was establishing a Jewish cemetery; a cornerstone of Jewish communal life reflecting the importance of honouring the dead according to tradition.
Wenner also spoke about the construction of Victoria’s Congregation Emanu-El. While today it stands as the oldest continuously operating synagogue in Canada, its path to completion was complicated. Tensions between more reform-minded members, who preferred a church-like architectural style, and traditionalists, who insisted on a recognizably Jewish structure, stalled progress. The turning point came through the efforts of the Victoria Ladies Hebrew Aid Society. Through fundraising events, including a community ball that attracted attendees from across the city, they raised sufficient funds to move the project forward. In the end, both visions were incorporated: a subdued exterior aligned with contemporary preferences and a traditional interior complete with a women’s gallery. The synagogue, completed in 1863, remains a testament to compromise, cooperation, and the decisive leadership of Jewish women, who often worked behind the scenes.
Throughout the presentation, Wenner emphasized how women’s contributions extended far beyond fundraising. They maintained communal spaces, organized cultural events and helped establish social services that supported families and newcomers. Their work, preserved through handwritten receipts, event notes and donation lists – all of which can be found in the archives – highlights a broader pattern: that community endurance is rarely the work of a few visible leaders, but of the collective efforts of many.
Wenner also touched on the political influence of early Jewish settlers. Figures such as Lumley Franklin, Victoria’s mayor and the first elected Jewish mayor in North America, and David Oppenheimer, Vancouver’s second mayor, were presented not merely as historical footnotes but as individuals whose civic engagement reflected the integration and ambition of the province’s early Jewish community. Henry Nathan, Canada’s first Jewish member of Parliament, who represented Victoria in Ottawa, and Samuel David Schultz, the country’s first Jewish judge, further illustrate the ways in which Jews have contributed to the shaping of public life in the region since they arrived.
As Wenner’s talk moved into the Q&A session, attendees asked about migration patterns, economic networks, and how early Jewish settlers balanced maintaining tradition with adapting to a rapidly developing province. Wenner’s responses blended archival detail with broader social insight, giving the discussion a conversational quality that matched the curiosity in the room.
By the end of her presentation, what emerged most clearly was a sense of continuity. Early Jewish settlers faced many of the same issues we do today surrounding organization, leadership, collaboration and identity. The history Wenner shared was not distant; it was grounding. It provided a reminder of how communities form, evolve and endure through intention and shared purpose.
Chloe Heuchert is an historian specializing in Canadian Jewish history. During her master’s program at Trinity Western University, she focused on Jewish internment in Quebec during the Second World War.
On Dec. 3, in the second webinar of Kolot Mayim Reform Temple’s 2025/26 Building Bridges Lecture Series, Rabbi Deborah Sacks Mintz guided an interactive examination of the potential to harness the power of music, especially that which provides solace, be it secular or liturgical.
Rabbi Deborah Sacks Mintz, director of prayer and music at the Hadar Institute in New York. (photo from Hadar Institute)
The director of tefillah (prayer) and music at the Hadar Institute, an educational organization in New York City, Sacks Mintz showed how, through text study, deep listening and participation, comfort (or anchor) songs can ignite creativity and provide strength, resilience and hope in an individual – and also serve communities in times of disruption.
“Tumultuous times are unfortunately nothing new. Times have been tumultuous since the dawn of humanity. And, also since the dawn of humanity, folks have drawn comfort from a variety of modalities,” she said, emphasizing that one of those modalities is communal song.
The talk began with a listening and reflection exercise around the question of comfort. Before playing a version of Hashiveinu, performed by Sacks Mintz and members of the Nigun Circle at Hadar, she asked participants to write down something that gives them comfort. The answers were varied and dynamic, ranging from prayer, food and song to family, friends and nature.
The role of comfort music in Jewish text was explored, starting with 1 Samuel: “So, it came about whenever the [evil] spirit from God came to Saul, David would take the harp and play it with his hand, and Saul would be refreshed/re-expanded, and be well, and the evil spirit would depart from him.”
Some in the Zoom audience described what happened in this passage as a possible early form of music therapy, bringing Saul healing and comfort.
Moving ahead several centuries, Sacks Mintz quoted Rabbi Nachman of Breslov’s encouragement for all to sing a niggun (wordless melody, often used in prayer): “It is good for a person to accustom oneself to reviving oneself with a niggun, because niggun is a powerful and mighty tool, and it has the great strength to awaken a person and point their heart towards the Blessed Name.”
Nachman called everyone to music, even those who could not play an instrument or were able to sing, said Sacks Mintz, for music has the power to revive the self, “for the lift of a niggun cannot be measured.”
She explained, “[He’s] not saying, wow, you should become a pro jazz musician and an amazing singer, and then you too can be sustained by song. You just have to be willing to engage in it on your own, and that can revive the self. It’s about being in a relationship with your internal world.”
Sacks Mintz shared two different pieces from the Jewish canon that comfort her, while asking the audience to reflect and unpack what might be core elements in the language of comfort they offer. She also asked the audience to consider what constitutes a comfort song for them.
One piece was by Rabbi Menachem Goldberger, a prolific composer of niggunim. It was an example of the various feelings one can experience in a piece of music. Reactions ran the gamut from feeling rejuvenated and uplifted to grounded and anchored. Similar feelings were expressed after “Mi Yiten Li Ever,” a song based on Psalm 55:7 by Rabbi Miriam Margles and the Hadar Ensemble, was played. The translation on its Bandcamp page reads: “Who will give me the wings of a dove, that I might fly away and find rest? I would flee to the wilderness; finding refuge from the tempest, from the sweeping wind.”
As well as being a facilitator of Jewish communal music, Sacks Mintz is a vocalist and multi-instrumentalist. As a performer and composer, she has collaborated on more than two dozen albums across the Jewish soundscape, including her original spiritual works The Narrow and the Expanse (2020) and Yetzira (2023), with Rising Song Records. A third album is expected in early 2026.
Sacks Mintz received rabbinic ordination from the Jewish Theological Seminary, holds a master’s degree in women’s and gender studies, and earned degrees in music and religious anthropology from the University of Michigan.
Founded in 2006, the Hadar Institute strives to build communities in North America and Israel, offering various programs to support the development of Judaism that is both traditional and egalitarian.
The next lecture in the Kolot Mayim series will feature Broadway historian and lecturer David Benkof on Jan. 11 at 11 a.m. Benkof will deliver his talk – Spotlight on Jewish Broadway with the Broadway Maven – in Victoria in person and on Zoom. For information, visit kolotmayimreformtemple.com.
Sam Margolishas written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.
Shelley Rivkin is the new chair of the Jewish Family Services (JFS) board of directors. Rivkin steps into the role at a pivotal moment, succeeding outgoing board chair Jody Dales, who led the organization through the pandemic and the milestone of securing a permanent home for JFS for the first time in its 89-year history. Rivkin will guide the next phase of development for JFS’s newly acquired 22,000-square-foot facility on Commercial Drive, which is slated for a major renovation to become a fully integrated hub for food security, mental health, seniors support, housing navigation and counseling services. This renovation represents the most substantial infrastructure improvement in JFS’s history and will ensure the organization can meet the community’s growing needs for decades to come.
“Shelley brings deep strategic insight, decades of experience in community planning and a profound commitment to serving vulnerable populations,” said Tanja Demajo, chief executive officer of JFS. “Her leadership will be essential as we transform our new building into a future-ready social-service centre.”
Shelley Rivkin takes over from Jody Dales as chair of Jewish Family Services’ board. (photo from JFS)
Rivkin currently serves as the executive director of Congregation Schara Tzedeck, bringing her expertise in community planning, organizational development and social-impact strategy.
Prior to her current role, Rivkin spent 17 years at the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver, where she advanced major community priorities including poverty reduction, housing initiatives, mental-health strategies and global Jewish engagement. Her work has shaped policy, strengthened nonprofit capacity and guided some of the community’s most significant collaborative efforts.
In addition to her professional leadership, Rivkin has volunteered extensively across community organizations and advisory bodies, consistently championing inclusive, evidence-based and people-centred approaches to communal service.
“JFS is entering an incredibly exciting phase,” said Rivkin. “Our new facility will allow us to expand our services, integrate programs more meaningfully, and respond to the urgent and growing needs of individuals and families across the Lower Mainland. I’m honoured to support this work alongside a dedicated board, staff team and community.”
Jody Dales, outgoing chair of Jewish Family Services’ board of directors. (photo from JFS)
Dales reflected on the transition and Rivkin’s appointment.
“It has been one of the great honours of my life to serve as board chair of JFS during such a transformative time,” said Dales. “Shelley is exactly the leaderJFS needs for this next chapter. Her deep understanding of community needs, her integrity and her ability to bring people together will be invaluable as we move forward with the renovation of our new home on Commercial Drive. I have complete confidence in her leadership and look forward to seeing JFS thrive under her guidance.”
Dales’ tenure included guiding the organization through COVID-related challenges, the launch of the Kitchen food hub, expanded mental-health and addiction services through JACS Vancouver, and the acquisition of JFS’s permanent facility.
The new Commercial Drive facility will allow JFS to significantly expand its reach and integrate services under one roof. Planned features include an accessible food-security centre; expanded counseling, addiction support and mental-health services; seniors programs and community navigation; purpose-built spaces for group programs and workshops; and infrastructure to support case management, housing navigation and emergency financial assistance.
Summer camp experiences, which encompass a range of activities campers get to try, can be costly.(photo from Camp Hatikvah)
If you get sticker shock when you see the cost of Jewish summer camp, you’re not alone. Pay full fare and you could easily be spending $1,000 per week. But there’s a reason it’s so high, say camp directors. Running a Jewish camp is an expensive endeavour – and it’s not getting any cheaper.
For Camp Hatikvah, which welcomes 480 summer campers to the Okanagan each year and a staff of 90, the biggest chunk of its operating budget – just over $2 million in 2024 – is salaries and honorariums. Only two staff members have year-round employment and the rest serve only in seasonal roles, said Liza Rozen-Delman, executive director. Food is the next largest expense, followed by costs related to site operations. And the general program experiences, which encompass the range of activities campers get to try, don’t come cheap either. Hatikvah campers get to waterski and wakeboard, and have access to an inflatable thunderdome on the lake, among other experiences. Now add the cost of insurance to the equation.
“Camper fees cover the direct costs of care, supervision, food and other daily needs, but donors fund all capital projects, major equipment purchases and our financial assistance program,” she said. “Camp could never break even on fees alone. We rely on our donors to help offset operational costs by funding anything considered an investment that lasts beyond a single summer.”
The biggest challenge facing Jewish camps across North America is maintaining affordability for middle-income families, Rozen-Delman said. “All camps, including ours, have wonderful financial assistance programs for those in clear need. What is harder to manage is families who earn higher incomes but struggle to balance the high cost of living an engaged Jewish life.”
Hatikvah tries to manage this by setting its camp fees as low as possible and requesting donations from those who can donate. “We’re fortunate to have donors who understand the immense importance of a Jewish camping experience,” she said.
The same is true for other camps.
“Camp tuition doesn’t cover the cost of operating Camp Miriam and, as expenses continue to rise, that gap only widens,” said Leya Robinson, Miriam’s community director, who noted that no camper is turned away due to lack of funds and about 40% of campers receive a scholarship each summer.
“We rely heavily on donors and grants not only to uphold this commitment but also to cover essential camp operating costs,” said Robinson. “Operating costs include salaries, staff training and benefits, food services, facility maintenance, utilities, insurance, programming, transportation, property taxes, equipment, medical supplies, annual organizational dues and fees, and security.” She added that the camp, which is located on Gabriola Island, is in the midst of a capital campaign “to upgrade our physical facilities so we can continue delivering the ‘Miriam magic’ for generations to come.”
Camp Miriam has more than 350 campers each summer and 85 summer staff. Throughout the year, they have three full-time and three part-time staff.
In Washington State, Camp Solomon Schechter welcomes 630 campers over the course of a summer, and has a staff of 80 to 100.
“Tuition covers only 80% of our operating costs, so we rely on the community to help us with donations, and on our diversifying revenue stream, which includes an outdoor school and a retreat centre available for rent,” said Zach Duitch, executive director.
Schechter is a kosher camp, and kosher food, especially meat, chicken and cheese, are much more expensive than their non-kosher equivalents. The cost of taking care of 100 staff is high, and running high-quality programs infused with Jewish values and themes requires significant funds, too. Up to 30% of camp staff comes from Israel, South America and the United Kingdom. “We love that delegation and we can’t run the camp without them, but, between agency fees, flights and visas, the costs add up,” Duitch said.
The camp experience helps Jewish youth develop lifelong friendships, connect to Israel and have a strong Jewish identity. (photos from Camp Solomon Schechter)
Programming fees are expensive, too. “Today’s parents want and expect their kids to develop new skills at camp, and that demands staff and supplies,” he said. “It’s not enough to play gaga or kick a soccer ball around for three weeks. They want a new toolkit and to know their kids are advancing their skills in terms of tefillah [prayer], sports, arts, cooking and everything we do at camp.”
Like Rozen-Delman, Duitch emphasized the quandary of camp fees for middle-class families. “Affluent families can afford to send their kids to camp. About 25% of our camper base requests some level of financial aid,” he said. “The trickiest part is for middle-class families that want to send their kids to camp. Maybe they need to put a new roof on their house, and that takes priority. How do we make sure all families can come to camp? We know how essential the camp experience is in terms of developing lifelong friendships, connecting to Israel and fomenting a strong Jewish identity.”
Schechter’s annual operating budget is $5.5 million and, while the camp has figured out how to stay financially solvent, it can get challenging when donors drop the size of their gift, or if the camp doesn’t meet its campership goals. “We’re creative and, if we have to pivot, we certainly do,” Duitch said. “We need to focus on endowment, life or legacy gifts, because those can add thousands of dollars into your operations without touching the principal. Our goal is to grow our endowment to secure our programs and infuse cash into our operating budget.”
Consider this, said Stacy Shaikin, executive director of Camp BB Riback in Alberta. “We open six weeks ahead of summer camp, to ‘turn the machine on’ before the kids can come out. There’s an insane number of requirements – health, safety, certifications, and all that stuff has increased in price. We don’t just pay the counselors, we house and feed them. And,remember, nothing in the Jewish community comes cheap. You’re dealing with a market that is small and has ethnocentric needs, such as kashrut and special skills required for teaching. We bring in Israelis to add those cultural pieces to the experiences, and that comes at a cost, too.”
Camp BB Riback welcomes around 250 campers and 70 staff each summer, and its prices runat the lower end of the Jewish camp fee spectrum Canada-wide, said Shaikin. However, there are costs of running a Jewish summer camp that can’t be avoided.
“I have 40-plus buildings that use electricity, a boat that requires maintenance and fuel, a ropes course that has to be certified every year, a horse program and a swimming pool. Anyone that runs a swimming pool will tell you it’s a money pit,” Shaikin said. “And, every year that goes by, you have to think about renovations and replacements.”
He stressed, “I’m not complaining – I’m just offering insight into the business. We’re not-for-profit and our goal is to not lose money, but also to put something back into keeping our campsite up.”
Most of the nearby Jewish summer camps were established more than 70 years ago and maintenance costs run high – keeping the property competitive and its facilities clean, safe and up to code, means putting money back in every year.
So, as you start to consider a Jewish camp experience for your child, keep in mind the value being offered, as well as the values being imparted.
“We’re not making money at our Jewish camp. We’re literally just trying to keep the business afloat and out of debt, which is a struggle for not-for-profits,” Shaikin said. “We’re a community entity and we’re not gouging families in any shape or form. We take our responsibility seriously: to encourage people to send their kids to Jewish summer camp. If they do, then we will continue to have a flourishing Jewish identity in our province, our country and in the world.”
Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond.
The list of things that kids learn at summer camp, while having fun and making friends, is almost endless. (photo from Camp Miriam)
Serendipity led us to Camp Miriam. In the span of one week in the fall of 2017, two friends – who didn’t know each other at the time – asked where I was planning to send my then–7-year-old daughter to camp. I had been thinking about it but had no idea where to begin. Having not grown up in Vancouver, I didn’t know the options. Both friends spoke glowingly about Camp Miriam. One was an alum; the other had sent her older daughter.
Camp registration day was approaching, and both of my friends’ daughters were desperate to know who else would be going. I relied on those moms’ advice and, with their gentle prodding, made one of the best parenting decisions I’ve ever made. To this day, these moms remain among my most trusted friends.
That first summer, after the five-day introductory session for her age group at Camp Miriam, our daughter came down the steps at the ferry terminal looking exhausted but happy. She was holding hands with a new friend. She hugged her friend goodbye before she hugged us hello. In the car ride home, we asked her to tell us about camp.
“There was a big holiday and it was so much fun. Can I go to camp every year for that holiday?”
I pulled out my phone to Google Jewish holidays in July. There were a few obscure ones, but nothing that seemed worth traveling on three buses and two ferries to celebrate.
“Do you remember what holiday it was?” I asked.
“They called it Shabbat.”
My husband and I looked at each other.
“Shabbat happens every week – we celebrate Shabbat, too,” I started to explain. From the rearview mirror, I could see her face scrunch up.
“Well,” she said, “they celebrate it much better at camp.”
It turns out Shabbat isn’t the only thing they do better at Camp Miriam.
Recently, I asked my daughter what she loves most about camp. She mentioned a few specifics – tiyul (the overnight backpacking trip), rikud (the weekly Shabbat Israeli folk dance) – and then said something I wasn’t expecting, because it’s exactly the same thing I love most about Camp Miriam. She said her favourite thing is how much she learns there.
(photo from Camp Miriam)
As she rattled off the list of topics – Israel, Jewish traditions, Hebrew, practical skills, responsibility – I realized how often I’m pleasantly surprised by what she has learned from camp. Things beyond the public school curriculum, and often beyond even my most patient and, dare I say, awesome parenting. Camp is both a safe space and a challenging one. At camp, my daughter has the opportunity to hone essential life skills: independence, resilience, teamwork, acceptance, adaptability. She has gained confidence, built friendships, appreciated the restorative power of nature, and enjoyed time away from screens. She has learned to paddle a kayak, varnish a wooden canoe, and passed the swim test doing the backstroke the year she forgot her goggles and decidedthe chlorine stung her eyes. She didn’t even know what varnish was before camp. And I didn’t know she could backstroke across an entire pool.
I’ve learned a lot, too.
The Camp Miriam registrar later told me I had been the stereotypical nervous mom. I would show up at information sessions full of concerns and fire endless questions at the staff. Eventually, she gently reminded me that my anxiety could rub off on my child. “We’ve got this,” she told me. Then, she gave me the most valuable advice of all: “Tell your kid that when they’re at camp, they should go to their counselors with their concerns and problems. That’s what they’re there for.” I can honestly say that in all the years she’s been at camp, the counselors have been there for her 100%. After a few years, I realized I should leave space at the information sessions for the new crop of nervous parents.
We’re now getting ready to send our daughter to Israel this summer with her Camp Miriam kvutzah (peer group). I’m no longer the nervous mom I was. Camp Miriam has helped me hone my own parenting skills. Even if a bit of nervousness still lingers – though I won’t admit it does – I’m mostly just thrilled for my daughter. I’m full of gratitude for the experiences camp has given her. I know this upcoming trip will be transformative, and that she’ll come back with greater insight, understanding and appreciation of Israel and Judaism. She will make friends from around the world and return home an even more confident, compassionate and resilient human being.
And, after the trip, when I pick her up at the airport, as she hugs her camp friends goodbye, I’ll be busy hugging my camp-mom friends hello.
Sept. 3, 1937: “It is practically impossible in the space of a short article to fully describe the happy holiday enjoyed by eighty-five children at the Council of Jewish Women Camp at Crescent Beach this summer,” begins this article by Mrs. M. M. Grossman. I know the first “M” refers to Max, but I couldn’t find his wife’s name before we went to press.
What strikes me every time the Jewish Independent does a Camp Guide issue is the staying power of our Jewish summer camps.
Camp Hatikvah was started in 1937 at Crescent Beach by the National Council of Jewish Women. It was run under their auspices until 1944, when, according to the camp’s website, “members of the Young Judaea youth organization arranged to first rent, and then later acquire, the property to create Camp Hatikvah.” The camp is located on Lake Kalamalka in the Okanagan Valley.
The site quotes the Independent’s predecessor, the Jewish Western Bulletin, noting that a 1949 article in the JWB stated that “Camp Hatikvah provided early participants with a ‘place where they could live and express themselves as Jews, unhampered with fear of others and free from the out-of-place feeling that is so often a part of North American Jewishness.’ Developed in the aftermath of the Holocaust, Hatikvah existed to ‘produce proud, happy Jewish youth who were earnest and sincere in their beliefs’ and committed to the re-building of the Jewish people.”
April 22, 1955: Camp BB Riback comes into existence.
And the camp wasn’t territorial, it appears. According to a 1948 article in the JWB, Camp Hatikvah allowed Habonim Machaneh (Camp) to use its facilities for two weeks. By 1949, Habonim was renting a camp on Gabriola Island and, by 1951, Habonim Camp Miriam was in its third year, but, it seems, its first with the name Camp Miriam.
Camp BB Riback, in Pine Lake, Alta., was founded in 1955, led by Ted Riback of Calgary, who was chair of the B’nai B’rith Camp committee. There were two articles in the April 22, 1955, JWB about it, one about the camp and one about the upcoming B’nai B’rith convention, the highlight of which was anticipated to be a discussion about the camp.
July 13, 1956: Kids from Vancouver have always attended Camp Solomon Schechter in Washington state.
While Camp Solomon Schechter was established by rabbis Joshua Stampfer and Joseph Wagner in 1954, the first mention I could find of it in the JWB was in 1956. The week-long camp at Echo Lake, Wash., was also under the supervision of Rabbi Bert Woythaler of Vancouver’s Congregation Beth Israel and the Pacific Northwest Region of the United Synagogue sponsored it. The camp has been located near Olympia, Wash., since 1968.
Dec. 29, 2006: Even before Camp Kalsman had a summer session, they were part of the Jewish Western Bulletin’s Camp Guide.
Relative newcomer Camp Kalsman started in 2007, and the JWB has followed it since its beginnings, as well. In 2006, the camp ran an ad looking for a director and, in our Dec. 29, 2006, Camp Guide, David Berkman, the newly appointed director, spoke to the paper about the Union for Reform Judaism camp, in Arlington, Wash. “The buildings are under construction. Staff and campers are being recruited; programs are being planned and we must buy everything – bunks, bats, balls, arts and crafts supplies, mops…. I have a long wish list,” he said.
As that 2006 article by Pearl Salkin noted, “The camps might not have big brass bands, but the excitement is already building. If you want your children to join in the fun, sign them up now, before the parade passes by.”
בראשית השנה החדשה ימלאו עשרים ואחת שנים להגעתי לונקובר ואין ספק שהזמן רץ כל כך מהר. לו יכולתי להחזיר את שעון הזמן אחורה הייתי עוזב את ישראל שנים קודם לכן. כבר בראשית שנות השמונים (לאחר השחרור מהשירות הצבאי) היה לי חלום שלא הרפה ממני והוא לעבור לגור בחו”ל. לאורך המשך שנות חיי הצטרפו סיבות נוספות (לחלום) מדוע רציתי לעזוב את ישראל ולבסוף עשיתי זאת רק בראשית שנת אלפיים וחמש.השנים הראשונות היו קשות במיוחד על רקע העבודה שנאלצתי להתמודד עם המציאות הלא פשוטה שבונקובר לא אוכל לעבוד עוד בתחום המדיה, כפי שעשיתי שנים בישראל. אמנם כתבתי כפרילאנס במשך שנים מכאן לישראל עבור ידיעות אחרונות ווינט, אך אין מקום להשוואה לעבודה הקבועה בארץ. במקביל התחלתי להבין שהמנטליות הקנדית שונה לחלוטין מזו שבישראל וזה לוקח זמן די רב להתאים את עצמך לכך
מכל מקום אחרי שעבדתי במשך כשבע שנים כמחפש מידע עבור חברה פיננסית מקומית, לאור הרקע העיתונאי שלי, הצטרפתי לחברת פרוגרסה שבה אני עובד עד היום – במשך אחת עשרה וחצי שנים. מדובר בחברה פיננסית שמספקת הלוואות ללקוחות שלא יכולים לקבל הלוואה מהבנק (בשל קרדיט גרוע). בשנתיים הראשונות שימשתי מנהל קשרי לקוחות ומזה קרוב לתשע וחצי שנים אני הוא מבקר החברה. זו עבודה אחראית ומאתגרת ואני אוהב לעשותה. אני לא חושב בשלב זה כלל על נושא הפרישה למרות שבקנדה הגיל הרשמי לצאת לפנסיה הוא 65. מבחינתי הכל פתוח לגבי השאלה עד מתי אמשיך לעבוד בחברה
בהיבט האישי יש לי זוגיות קרובה במשך למעלה משמונה שנים וזה מעניק יציבות לחיי שנינו. בת הזוג שלי הגיעה מסין והפכה את ונקובר כמוני, לבית הקבוע שלה. למרות הרקע השונה יש לנו עניין משותף בלא מעט תחומים בהם אמנות, מוסיקה ועיצוב. שנינו מאוד אוהבים את אירופה והקלאסיות שבה. מאוד נהנינו לבקר בשנים האחרונות בציריך, ברצלונה, מדריד, לונדון, דבלין ואמסטרדם – שהיא עדיין העיר האהובה עלי. אנו מתכננים בשנים הקרובות להמשיך ולטייל בערים המרכזיות של אירופה
אני אוהב לחלק את בני האדם לשתי קבוצות מרכזיות: עכברי עיר ועכבר שדה. אנו עכברי עיר שאוהבים את מה שהערים יכולות להציע, ובעיקר בתחום התרבות. בנוסף הנוף העירוני מושך אותנו בעיקר כשמדובר במבנים עם היסטוריה ארוכה
בשעות הפנאי ביוזמתי אנו לוקחים חלק באירועי מוזיקה המתרחשים בונקובר בהם: קונצרטים של התזמורת הסימפונית המקומית ואופרות של בית האופרה המקומי. בנוסף אנו הולכים בקביעות למועדון הג’אז המקומי שמארח אמנים מארה”ב ומקומיים כאחד. בתחום מוסיקת הפופ הלכנו למספר הופעות באצטדיון הגדול (שנמצא סמוך לביתנו) ובהן של: פול מקרטני, אלטון ג’ון, פיטר גבריאל, להקת קולדפליי וטיילור סוויפט.
יש לי כאן גם מספר חברים ורובם לא ישראלים וזה טוב כי חיפשתי להשתלב בחברה המקומית ולא להישאר זר לנצח . גיוון החברים שלא שייכים לקבוצה אחת ואף לא מכירים אחד את השני, הופכים את המפגשים עימם למעניינים ופוריים. מי שמכיר אותי יודע שאני לא אוהב מפגשים חברתיים בקבוצות גדולות, אלה מפגשים של אחד עם אחד או זוג עם זוג נוסף
ונקובר נחשבת לאחת הערים היפות בעולם עם טבע מדהים גם ממש בעיר עצמה. לא צריך להרחיק לכת כדי להגיע לפינות טבע שקטות, כיוון שהעיר מוקפת במים ובתוכה נמצאים מספר פרקים בהם סטנלי פארק שהוא גדול מהסנטרל פארק של ניו יורק. בהחלט עיר שמומלץ לבקר בה
