Sharing a personal journey

Son of a Seeker follows Kai Balin’s search for where he fits within Judaism and Jewish community. (still from Son of a Seeker)

Kai Balin’s documentary Son of a Seeker, which screened to a sold-out Rothstein Theatre last month, is an official selection of the 2026 Vancouver Jewish Film Festival, which will take place next April.

The very personal work that follows Balin’s search for where he fits within Judaism and Jewish community will be thought-provoking for viewers, generating questions about what religion, family and belonging mean to them.

“I think my mother, sister and even my brother have a more innate sense of security in who they are and in who they are as Jews,” Balin told the Independent. “My dad and I, on the other hand, have a more complex identity. It makes it harder to fully fit in or feel completely rooted. However, I see it – and I know my dad does too – as a kind of blessing. It’s ultimately who we are. And, while it comes with plenty of challenges, being a seeker is also a beautiful way to live.”

Balin dedicates the documentary to his grandparents, who survived the Holocaust. “But survival is not the same as security,” he narrates in the film. “My father and I have spent our lives trying to understand what it means to continue.”

Having grown up in a Jewish but not religious home, where his deeper questions were not answered, Balin’s father, Jeffrey, began looking for answers elsewhere, notably, in Buddhism. And, while Balin’s mother, Jennifer Shecter, grew up in a traditional Jewish family and attended Jewish school, “bringing a strong sense of Judaism into the home wasn’t a priority, but I knew I was a Jew,” says Kai Balin in the film. “And I got to create a version of Judaism that I owned and I loved.”

The home video clips in the film highlight this love. As a child, Balin plays at being a rabbi, wants to be one when he grows up. But, over the years, he loses this connection, just as his father begins to return to Judaism. How the father and son negotiate their respective paths, while being respectful of the other’s journey, is a key aspect of the documentary.

“When I first started making Son of a Seeker, I had no idea what the title would be, or even what the story really was,” said Kai Balin. “I knew I wanted to explore Judaism and what it means to be Jewish, but I didn’t expect it to become so personal. Early on, I interviewed a few dozen Jewish people from across the spectrum on camera. But, in the end, I realized I wanted this film to be something much more intimate.

“My dad initially thought he’d just be one of many voices in the film. He didn’t expect to become such a central figure in the story. It pushed him far beyond his comfort zone, but he ultimately believed in the project and gave me his full blessing to be a part of my documentary.”

Balin’s sister, Justine, and brother, Jackson, are also in the film, his brother in the background, while his sister is featured more prominently.

“My sister was my right-hand woman throughout the entire process – I truly couldn’t have made this film without her,” said Balin. “She filmed what’s arguably the most important scene in the movie, when I’m walking through the town where our grandfather was born and raised until he was sent away to a forced labour camp and had everything taken from him and his family. My sister also spent countless hours in the editing room, helping make the tough calls about what to cut and what to keep. Without her input, the film would’ve easily been two hours long and a lot less focused.

“My whole family really stood behind me on this project,” he said. “They gave me the strength, courage and confidence to see it through.”

Balin came to filmmaking somewhat organically.

“I was studying kinesiology at Western University. After my second year, I worked on an indie film, Volition, as part of the swing crew, helping with lighting and grip. Later that summer, I was the program director at Camp Hatikvah (2017), where the videographer/photographer, Denis Lipman, brought some super cool gear…. Right before my third year, I bought a camera – and, from then on, I started dedicating less and less time to what I was actually studying, and more time learning how to shoot and edit. 

“I was running a nonprofit at school that threw club and bar events for local charities, and the first video I ever made was a recap of one of those nights,” said Balin. “I started getting more involved on campus and around the city (London, Ont.), looking for any chance to shoot videos.

“My first paid gig was filming a club event that featured a guy in a robot suit on stilts. I was also on the rugby team, so I made a few hype-up videos for them whenever I was injured (which was quite a bit). Over the last two years at my time in university, I got more invested in videography and less focused on kinesiology. I ended up shooting videos for all sorts of events and student clubs.”

After graduating, Balin pursued videography full time. Not wanting to make corporate videos, he started making a documentary about his dad’s work.

“He was a leadership development coach working mostly with heads of NGOs and social enterprises,” explained Balin. “I lined up a plan to travel to different countries, mostly in East Africa and India, to film these organizations and their leaders. I started shooting, but I didn’t have a clear direction. Eventually, I lost the passion for the project – and for filmmaking altogether. I just wanted to travel.”

It would be almost five years before Balin made another video.

“It took about three months to put My 5 Year Video Project together – I wasn’t working any other job at the time – and we held a small premiere in August 2024 with around 70 people,” he said about the film, which can be seen on YouTube.

“I didn’t expect people to be so moved by what I had created,” he said. “That experience gave me the confidence to pursue my next film project. At the time, it was just a rough idea, and I had no clue it would eventually become something so personal – and so deeply centred around my father’s story as well.”

But, for Balin, it’s the personal aspects of art, films and books that draw him in, “even if I can’t directly relate to what the creator is going through,” he said. “I remember hearing years ago, from a few directors I really respect, that you ultimately have to make the film for yourself – something you’d enjoy watching a hundred times over, and something that excites you to work on every day.

“For me, that excitement comes from sharing something personal. It’s my life, my questions, my struggles, and I find them interesting. So maybe others will too.”

As for what comes next, Balin said, “One side of me just wants to let the river flow, follow life as it comes without getting too attached to any future outcomes. But the other side of me dreams of being a famous, successful filmmaker making big-budget movies. There’s still something in me that maybe wants to be a rabbi one day as well.”

He added, “I know my relationship with Judaism will continue to evolve, but, for now, I’ve found a sense of peace. I feel like I have a steady relationship with it, and I’m much more secure in who I am as a Jew than I was when I started this film.

“These days,” Balin said, “I find myself seeking something else: my soulmate. That might even be the focus of my next documentary – exploring the journey to find ‘the one’ – if that concept even exists.” 

Community milestones … for July 2025

photo - David Bercovici-Artieda’s The Fast Runner was nominated for six Leo Awards, with Bercovici-Artieda taking home the award for cinematography
David Bercovici-Artieda’s The Fast Runner was nominated for six Leo Awards, with Bercovici-Artieda taking home the award for cinematography. (photo © David Bercovici-Artieda)

The short film The Fast Runner, which was shot in the Greater Victoria area, won a 2025 Leo Award in cinematography for David Bercovici-Artieda. Bercovici-Artieda was also nominated for best direction, and the piece had six nominations in total.

The Leo Awards are a Project of the Motion Picture Arts & Sciences Foundation of British Columbia. This year, there were more than 1,300 eligible entries in 16 different program categories. 

In addition to nominations for direction and cinematography, The Fast Runner was nominated for screenwriting (Michael Adams), production design (Sarah Monteith), costume design (Constance Moerman and Josie Saldat) and make-up (Teia Dumaresq, Akina McCrea, Lindsay Pilkey, Donia Nikoo, Naomi Burnell and Mayhanna Haslam).

“It’s not just about telling a story,” Bercovici-Artieda, the son of a Holocaust survivor, told the Independent earlier this year. “It’s about honouring the memory of those who lived through unimaginable horrors, including my own father. Every frame, every scene and every creative choice carries the weight of history – my family’s history.” (See jewishindependent.ca/balancing-education-and-art.)

For more about Bercovici-Artieda, the film and the many other awards and recognition it has received, visit thefastrunnerfilm.com.

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At its annual general meeting last month, the Vancouver Holocaust Centre Society for Education and Remembrance presented its annual Life Fellow Award to Sidi Schaffer and Keith Morgan. The award is given to individuals who have made exceptional contributions to Holocaust education and remembrance.

Sidi is a Holocaust survivor and talented artist whose life and work are powerful testaments to resilience and remembrance.

photo - Sidi Schaffer
Sidi Schaffer (photo from VHEC)

Born in northern Romania, Sidi was just a child when she and her family were forced into the Czernowitz ghetto in 1940, and later deported to the Djurin concentration camp in what’s now Ukraine. They endured unimaginable hardship for four years before returning to Romania in 1945. Sidi later moved to Israel, where she earned her degree in art education, and eventually settled in Canada with her husband David and their three sons.

After completing a bachelor of fine arts at the University of Alberta, Sidi continued to use art as a way of processing and sharing her experience. Her piece “Earth, Don’t Cover Their Blood” (featured in the VHEC’s 1998 Gesher Project) remains a moving tribute to those lost – and a powerful educational tool.

Sidi continues to share her story and use her art to bear witness as a long-time member of the VHEC’s Child Survivor Group. 

Keith, a best-selling author and award-winning journalist, has dedicated his work to preserving Holocaust memory.

photo - Keith Morgan
Keith Morgan (photo from VHEC)

Born in Blackpool, England, in 1954, he moved to Vancouver in 1980, where he became a columnist on cars and motoring for the Province and Sun newspapers.

In 1997, he wrote a newspaper feature about Ruth Kron Sigal and her community impact. Moved by Ruth’s family story and motivated by his own limited knowledge of the Holocaust in the Baltics, Keith collaborated with Ruth, the eldest daughter of Meyer and Gita Kron, on her memoir, Ruta’s Closet (Shavl Publishing, 2008), about the murder of 200,000 Lithuanian Jews during the Holocaust and the Kron Sigal family’s survival during the Nazi occupation of Lithuania.

Keith worked on Ruta’s Closet while working as a journalist, researching daily, conducting interviews and using his holidays to travel across Europe, Israel and North America. Since its publication in 2008, the book has become a vital educational resource. According to historian Sir Martin Gilbert, it is “one of the finest Holocaust memoirs.”

* * *

Wendy Cocchia, lieutenant governor of British Columbia, has accepted to serve as honorary patron of the Holocaust Theatre Production Society’s Survivors program. Patronage, in the spirit of supporting and encouraging meaningful initiatives, is a role of the Office of the Lieutenant Governor, rooted in the Crown’s tradition of recognizing and uplifting worthy endeavours. 

The play Survivors, by Wendy Kout, is an hour-long educational drama that enacts the story of the Holocaust through eyewitness testimony of 10 survivors. Young and diverse audiences relate to the young and diverse cast, who are guides on the perilous journey of their ever-changing world. The survivors in the play also provide life lessons and encouragement to speak up and act up against hatred and bullying today. Suitable for young adult and adult audiences, this play about the past is a warning and a wakeup call for the present and the future.

As of June 30, Survivors was booked for more than 30 performances across Vancouver Island, bringing the society’s Holocaust education program to middle and high schools, both public and private, as far north as Campbell River.

Thank you to the Victoria Foundation for their support, which will ensure that the program can be delivered to Victoria schools in October.

Visit holocausttheatre.com for more information and to watch the trailer. 

* * *

Last month, the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre presented the 2025 Meyer and Gita Kron and Ruth Kron Sigal Award for Excellence in Holocaust Education to Chantel Parsons. Chantel has consistently demonstrated an exceptional commitment to Holocaust education throughout her career, significantly impacting her students, colleagues and the broader school community.

photo - Chantel Parsons
Chantel Parsons (photo from VHEC)

Chantel is a geography and history teacher at Mark R. Isfeld Secondary School in the Comox Valley. The teacher’s Genocide 12 course, which centres on the Holocaust, remains one of the most popular senior-level electives at her school, drawing students eager to engage deeply with this critical history.

Chantel’s approach to Holocaust education is marked by historical precision, critical inquiry and meaningful impact. Her students explore complex issues around historical responsibility and the roles of perpetrators, victims, bystanders and resistors, challenging simplified narratives and examining the complexities of human behaviour during the Holocaust.

The lasting influence of her teaching is reflected in the words of a former student: “You were probably one of the best teachers I had. The focus you put on the atrocities in WWII, and the effort you put into teaching us how to recognize the patterns that lead up to events like this made me question a lot of things I probably wouldn’t have otherwise…. I often think back to things I learned in your class.”

A distinctive feature of Chantel’s teaching is her focus on Holocaust denial and distortion – topics often underrepresented in high school curricula. Her students study landmark Canadian legal cases concerning Holocaust denial, and benefit from guest speakers and witnesses connected to these cases. 

Despite teaching in the smaller community of Courtenay, Chantel’s students access extensive enrichment opportunities through VHEC’s online programs. This year, her class participated in multiple live Zoom workshops, survivor speaker presentations, virtual exhibition tours and accessed a wealth of online teaching materials. 

The Kron Sigal Award was established in memory of Meyer and Gita Kron and their daughter Ruth Kron Sigal, Lithuanian Jewish survivors of the Holocaust who reestablished their lives in Vancouver. Through their lifelong involvement with education and community, the family touched the lives of thousands of students. The award in their name is presented annually to British Columbian teachers who have demonstrated excellence and commitment to teaching students about the Holocaust and its important lessons for humankind.

* * *

photo - Gerri Klein (centre, seated) with some of her graduating colleagues at the 50th anniversary of the Winnipeg Health Science Centre School of Nursing
Gerri Klein (centre, seated) with some of her graduating colleagues at the 50th anniversary of the Winnipeg Health Science Centre School of Nursing. (photo from Gerri Klein)

Gerri Klein recently celebrated 50 years as a nurse! She was part of the first nursing class from the Winnipeg Health Science Centre School of Nursing.

During her career, Gerri, who now has a master’s in nursing (2003, University of British Columbia), has been honoured with the Canadian Diabetes Educator of the Year Award in 2020 and a Nurses and Nurse Practitioners of BC 2023 Nursing Award of Excellence: Excellence in Advancing Nursing Knowledge and Research. She currently works as a diabetes educator at BC Diabetes in Vancouver.

* * *

photo - Dr. Aaron Klein
Dr. Aaron Klein (photo from Gerri Klein)

Aaron Klein graduated from the University of Toronto with a doctor of philosophy, aerospace studies, department of mechanical and industrial engineering, on June 17, 2025. Aaron, who is working and living in Toronto, stays busy raising his young family with his wife Carolyn.

 

Two Yiddish-speaking Bluenosers

Writer Adina Horwich only met Yehuda Miklaf and his wife Maurene in Jerusalem, even though both Adina and Yehuda are from Nova Scotia. (photo by Adina Horwich)

So, this guy walks into my Yiddish group one fine Sunday in Jerusalem – this is not the beginning of a joke. In the group, we welcome anyone who is into Yiddish, with any background, and, on that day, Yehuda was introduced to us. We went around the room asking him questions. I asked where he hailed from. Little could I have anticipated his answer: Nova Scotia.

“I don’t believe it!” I said. “So do I!” Then, “From where, exactly?”

“Annapolis Valley.”

 “Oh,” I paused, thinking to myself, I’d be hard-pressed to find any Jews there. 

Later, Yehuda’s story was revealed when the teacher matched us up to work together.

Yehuda, an Esperanto speaker and aficionado, has only recently started to learn Yiddish, while I have been at it for 15 years. I started off with little but the smattering I heard as a child. Yehuda happened upon it by the by, via a friend in the hand-printing scene, where he is an active, prominent member. With the characteristic zeal that he tackles so many projects, and lots of gumption, he has taken to Yiddish very well. 

The sight and sound of us two old-time Bluenosers (nickname for Nova Scotians) hacking a chainik in Yiddish, is too precious. But, most of all, I like when Yehuda slips into the down-home accent I grew up with. That is when I really kvell.

Né Seamas Brian McClafferty, Yehuda was born in the mid-1940s to a father with Irish roots and a mother with origins in Quebec. The youngest of eight, he had an idyllic childhood, as a small-town Catholic youngster in Annapolis Royal, which today has a population of only 530.

In his last year of high school, Yehuda attended a Fransciscan seminary in upstate New York, his first foray away from home. With his fellow students, he passed a building with Hebrew letters, which intrigued him. A friend he asked about these unfamiliar markings promptly replied: “That’s just Hebrew.” Yehuda had never seen, much less met, any Jews. 

He completed his last year of high school and then spent a year of silence and meditation at the novitiate in the Adirondacks. The following year, he furthered his studies towards the priesthood, commencing a rigorous and intense program that sounds like a yeshiva govoha (Torah academy of higher learning).

Discipline and training, mostly in silence, hours of meditation and living under austere conditions, Yehuda carried on through to the second of four years. He heard a lecture about the Torah, which was demonstrated by a small model scroll, and delved deeply from then on, backed by the church’s ecumenical approach of spirituality and faith. He availed himself of the library to his heart’s content and took to reading the Hebrew Bible over and over again. He didn’t know it at the time, but his first steps towards life as an Orthodox Jew were taken, while he was encouraged to become a scholar of the “Old Testament.”

Over the four years of study, Yehuda began to have rather different ideas about how he wanted to live his life.

Returning to Canada in the mid-1960s, he spent time in Toronto and in Nova Scotia, taking road trips home to tend to his father who had taken ill. Things grew clearer.

Yehuda absorbed every mention of things Jewish. It was an emotional attachment. In 1966, after having left Christianity, he discussed his evolving beliefs with a Jewish friend, who said: “You sound more Jewish than me. I’m surprised that you haven’t converted.”

The conversion process was long but not arduous. Yehuda took a class in Toronto and eventually went to the mikvah. 

He and his wife Maurene – who he met through his roommate in Toronto – visited Israel, as tourists, for an extended vacation. They had not intended to make aliyah, but, smitten with Israel, as so many of us are, did so three years later.

After making aliyah, Yehuda had to “rinse and repeat,” so to speak, as often happens with conversion. Israeli rabbinic courts do not automatically accept even the most stringent diaspora Orthodox ones, and Yehuda had to go through it again, studying for a year and then going to the mikvah. The converting rabbi gave him the option of choosing a name and Yehuda suited him, since that’s where the word Jew comes from. Miklaf (literally, “from parchment”) was a good abbreviation of McClafferty, he thought, and could not have been more fitting for his chosen profession of printer and bookbinder.

Like most new immigrants at the time, they started out at an absorption centre and had a routine klita (absorption/integration), including Hebrew language studies at ulpan. Maurene got a job in high-tech and Yehuda opened a studio. He started out by binding the original of David Moss’s My Haggadah: The Book of Freedom, and branched out into printing.

The couple attends an Ashkenazi shul but try not to be pigeonholed as being from one background (Sephardi or Ashkenazi). Early on, Yehuda tasted some traditional Ashkenazi delicacies and learned how to make potato kugel, for which he’s now famous, along with kneidlach.

Yehuda still has two siblings in Nova Scotia and visits his longtime friends in Annapolis Royal.

Our paths from the Atlantic led us to meet in Jerusalem, where we raised our families. The Miklafs have two children and several grandkids. Their daughter was a high school friend of my daughter’s, and both women have been living in the same community, and they see each other now and again.

Ma’aseh avot siman l’banim – the deeds of the fathers are a sign for the children – or, in this case, Ma’aseh horim siman l’banot, the deeds of the parents are a sign for the daughters. 

Adina Horwich was born in Israel to Canadian parents. In 1960, the family returned to Canada, first living in Halifax, then in a Montreal suburb. In 1975, at age 17, Horwich made aliyah, and has lived mostly in the Jerusalem area. She won a Rockower Award for journalistic excellence in covering Zionism, aliyah and Israel for her article “Immigration challenges.”

Forgotten music performed

Through a chance conversation with a curator at the Auschwitz Memorial and Museum, conductor and composer Leo Geyer came across musical scores composed by concentration camp prisoners during the Holocaust. June 3 to 7, at London’s Bloomsbury Theatre, the music Geyer documented was played for the first time in 80 years. (photo from Sky Arts)

In 2015, London-based musician and composer Leo Geyer was commissioned to write a tribute honouring British historian Sir Martin Gilbert, who had recently died. Visiting Oświęcim, Poland, to better understand the Holocaust historian’s research, a chance conversation with a curator at the Auschwitz Memorial and Museum led Geyer to a trove of forgotten musical scores composed by prisoners who had been forced to perform in the SS-run orchestras in the Nazi concentration camp, where more than 1.1 million died in gas chambers, mass executions, torture, medical experiments, exhaustion and from starvation, disease and random acts of violence.

The deteriorating and fragile sheets of music, written in pencil, were faded and ripped. Many had burn damage. Intrigued, Geyer devoted nearly a decade of detective work to studying the documents and filling in missing gaps, and the music formed the basis for his doctorate at Oxford University. From June 3 to 7, at London’s Bloomsbury Theatre, the music Geyer documented was played for the first time in 80 years, to commemorate the liberation of Auschwitz in January 1945. The opera ballet included the unfinished scores that Geyer completed and choreography by New York-born choreographer Claudia Schreier.

“The musicians took incredible risks to make brazen acts of rebellion. When good news of the war [of the Allies’ June 6, 1944, D-Day landings] reached the men’s orchestra in Auschwitz I, they performed marches not by German composers but by American composers,” Geyer said in an interview with France 24’s daily broadcast Perspective.

The guards couldn’t distinguish between a Strauss waltz and a John Philip Sousa march.

The musicians “would also weave in melodies from Polish national identity such as St. Mary’s Trumpet Call (a five-note Polish bugle call closely bound to the history of Kraków). We also know of secret performances [that] would take place, which would principally encompass Polish music, but we also know Jewish music was performed as well,” said Geyer.

The story of the orchestras at Auschwitz was popularized by Fania Fénelon, née Fanja Goldstein (1908-1983), a French pianist, composer and cabaret singer whose 1976 memoir Sursis pour l’orchestre, about survival in the women’s orchestra at the Nazi concentration camp, was adapted as the 1980 television film Playing for Time. The orchestra, active from April 1943 to October 1944, consisted of mostly young female Jewish and Slavic prisoners of varying nationalities. The Germans regarded their performances as helpful in the daily running of the camp in so far as they brought solace to those trapped in unimaginable horror. As well, the musicians held a concert every Sunday for the amusement of the SS.

Geyer explained that the SS organized at least six men’s and women’s orchestras at Auschwitz, and perhaps as many as 12. The groups principally played marching music as prisoners trudged to the munitions factories and other industrial sites, where they worked as slave labourers, he explained.

“Musicians had marginally better conditions than other prisoners,” he noted. Nonetheless, he said, “The vast majority of the musicians and composers did not survive the war.” Most of their names are lost. Geyer was able to track down the composer of one unsigned composition by comparing the handwriting to a document found at a conservatory in Warsaw.

Adding poignancy to the performances in London, the musicians played from copies of the original scores.

“We poured our heart and soul into these performances,” said Geyer. “I am neither Jewish nor Romani. But I am human.” 

Gil Zohar is a writer and tour guide in Jerusalem.

* * *

A replica of Auschwitz

Due to conservation issues, the Auschwitz Memorial and Museum no longer permits the filming of movies at the historic site. Using advanced spatial scanning technology, the museum employed a team of specialists, led by Maciej Żemojcin, to create a digital replica of the Auschwitz I camp. The project was recognized at the Cannes Film Festival.

Museum spokesperson Bartosz Bartyzel told Euronews Culture that the replica was created “out of the growing interest of directors in the history of the German camp.”

“The Auschwitz Museum has been working with filmmakers for many years – both documentary filmmakers and feature film directors,” he said. “However, due to the conservation protection of the authentic memorial site, it is not possible to shoot feature films [there]. The idea to create a digital replica was born out of the need to respond to the growing interest in the history of the Auschwitz German camp in cinema and the daily experience of dealing with the film industry. This tool offers an opportunity to develop this cooperation in a new, responsible and ethical formula.”

– GZ

Love learning, stay curious

My household’s really into learning. It doesn’t stop during the summer, when there’s no school. Even on vacations, we’re always trying to nurture our kids’ curiosity and feed our own. 

When our kids were in preschool, and just toilet-trained, we took a long trip to a friend’s northern Minnesota cottage. I say “long” because Google Maps told us it would just be a few hours across the US border. Eight hours later, we’d been slowed by the border crossing, construction and stops at every unnamed exit along a dirt road off the North Dakota highway so the kids could go to the bathroom. It was an excruciating trip. Three days later, it was just as long on the way home to Winnipeg.

Yet, we remember parts of the trip fondly. This historic family cottage contained a mostly functional pump organ, books filled with spidery copperplate handwriting and an empty fish tank. In between long play sessions in the sand by the lake, our friend created new wonders for us to explore. Using a net and years of experience, he gathered a selection of lake life into the fish tank. Once indoors, with the tank now full, the friend and my husband, two adult biology professors, casually called over the kids to investigate.

Neither adult studied lake aquatics professionally. Instead, four heads poured over fish and fauna guides from years past, discussing what they thought was in the tank. The kids made observations, and the adults’ heads bobbed as they looked and agreed. Once the science mysteries were solved, the tank got dumped back into the lake. The next day, it all happened again. 

We also visited the remains of an old gristmill, complete with a playground nearby. We then had a kite-flying break. Years later, my kids still wonder when we might ever get invited back to that magical cottage. The truth is, for the adults, it was a lot of effort: to open and clean the cottage, get and cook enough food for several days, and pack and travel there and home. This doesn’t include the many loads of laundry (toilet training!), or the lost items left in the dryer by mistake, which had to be mailed home internationally.

The “vacation” exhausted me. Still, when I put a photo background on my iPad, the obvious choice is an image of my small twins, in swim gear and floppy sun hats, playing on the rocks near the lake’s blue water. 

These summer experiences weren’t fancy or expensive. They laid the groundwork for other adventures over time. One weekend in July, we went raspberry picking at a farm about 45 minutes away from home. Now, my kids, 14, are at a day camp learning to fence, do archery and play racquetball. They came home tired but also stretched by exotic activities that they’d not considered before. To my surprise, one of them stopped multiple times to thank me for arranging these outings. Now that he’s older, he texts constantly with school friends. He sees that our experiential learning isn’t the same as others. (And I hear about this all, too, because I wouldn’t take him to the folk festival during a 10+ wildfire air quality warning, or to the shopping mall!)

We try hard to hold onto this love for learning and intellectual curiosity even if the education system can cause one to lose enthusiasm. As our family hits the milestone of high school entry, we’re in limbo. The closest public high school, where their cohorts and friends will attend, is out of catchment for our children. We’re hoping to get our sons into that nearby school, but so far have not gained access through the provincial “school of choice” legislation. Another private high school looks to be a challenging, interesting academic option, but it’s pricey. It also means giving up on the small dream of attending the closest public school with beloved classmates.

Of course, as the parent facing the school division board of trustees, I looked to Jewish text to find strength, solace and direction. In the Babylonian Talmud tractate of Avodah Zarah, Daf 19a, there’s an examination of learning Torah with many nuggets of wisdom. Rava, who lived in the 4th century CE, says, “in accordance with the statement of Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi: A person should always learn Torah from a place in the Torah that his heart desires, as it is stated: ‘But his delight is in the Torah of the Lord.’” This advice, to study what you love, feels timeless.

Rava encourages learners to gain a broad understanding of the text before returning to analyze it. Further, for those of us who study and fail to understand, Rava encourages review and repetition as helpful techniques to gain access to basic understanding.

The next tidbit is one that I hold dear. Rava quotes earlier rabbis, such as Rav Sehora and Rav Huna (3rd-century CE), who suggest learning a little bit each day, studying and reviewing, to retain more Torah and more knowledge. Rav Nahman bar Yitzhak, a contemporary of Rava’s, responds in the next paragraph (and possibly in person), saying: “I did this, as I studied little by little and regularly reviewed what I had learned, and my learning has in fact endured.”

Experience and learn it and then decipher it; work away at it, a little every day; review it to retain more knowledge. These are still basic study skills. This guidance is the same that educators use today. These are ancient and Jewish ideas – Ben Bag Bag (Pirkei Avot, Sayings of our Fathers, 5:22) says, when referring to Torah: “Turn it and turn it, for everything’s in it.”

The rabbis took an expansive view, feeling that we could gain information about just about anything in the world if we studied enough Jewish texts. This even includes the funny tale of Rav Kahana – the student who hid beneath Rav, his teacher’s bed, to “learn” from him and his wife about marital relations – which is in the talmudic tractate Berachot on page 62a. While we would see this as Peeping Tom behaviour, the student says, “Rabbi, this is Torah!” 

I’m not recommending my kids hide under anybody’s bed. I am, however, hoping they can maintain their wonder and enthusiasm about learning, wherever it takes them, a little bit each day, even when the going is difficult or there are obstacles in the way. 

Summer’s the time, no matter our ages, to explore new skills informally, from lake water studies at a cottage to fencing. Little by little, I hope we can all find joy in learning more – about the world, Judaism and one another. 

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Flying through our life

It is sunny today. (Some other today!) I am on my balcony watching birds fly. The sky is blue everywhere, unharried by even a wisp of cloud. There are sailboats on the water and there is snow on the mountaintops. The gentle breeze is friendly, ruffling the tiny hairs on my exposed skin.

Although it is before noon, I have indulged. I am inspired by a smidgen of whiskey and the smoky vapour of a cigar of unknown heritage. (I drank from a new crystal beaker my Bride purchased for me to celebrate my existence.) Sensitized by their appeal, I can see my life experience stream like an indie film before my eyes. 

I am watching how the birds launch themselves into empty space, beating their wings strongly until they catch a current, an unseen wave they sense will carry them forward. Then they glide, onward and upward. They fly singly or in flocks. Those flying together know well the strength and advantage that lies in union. Isn’t that always a better idea if it can be managed?

I think back to my youth, my life path, and extrapolate to the lives of younger people, and those not so young. I recall how I launched myself into the unknown – so eager to be off on my own that I was heedless there were any dangers. Some of us hung back and had to be encouraged into flight by our near and dear. Some of us traveled in packs. Some of us remained a long time on the home perch. Some had their departures well-planned, orchestrated by vision or friends and family. 

For those of us who took off, we sometimes had to walk before we could fly, we had to work hard to get to the take-off point. This might have been particularly true for those of us who were the children of immigrants, of ethnic minorities often discriminated against. When we did make it off the ground, how proud we were to be sailing in the wind of life under our own power. It was great to feel the lift of independence under our wings. It gave us energy.

We were always looking for that wave that would propel us forward. We didn’t always find it. For many of us it was work, work, work, just to stay on an even keel. We squared our shoulders and kept on keeping on. We couldn’t help seeing others on their flights ahead of us, wishing we could also really soar.

How did we learn to fly? How did we know we could? Surely, we watched others, our parents, friends, people we knew. Some of us crashed and burned, a few of us never even tried – the grapevine and the media brought us the news of these events daily. We felt the downdrafts as well as updrafts and we all had our share of scary moments. For some of us, more than our share! But most of us kept on moving, looking to gain enough speed for lift-off.

And many of us eventually did take off. We got to feel the exhilaration of flight, to feel the current we had caught through effort and attention to the tasks at hand. When we stopped to think, it was great to relish and feel the momentum we had attained, to appreciate the distance we had traveled. It was great to contemplate the things we could look forward to if we kept on flying.

Sustaining the effort on the trip was never something one could take for granted – not all of us are built for distance. When I watch flocks of birds flying south for the winter, I am always mindful that each member takes a turn at the head so the leader can rest. Most of us do not have volunteers to take a turn at the head of our efforts to get ahead, to accomplish the tasks we have set ourselves. It is almost always totally up to us alone. It is always so special when there is a partner at the ready with a helping hand. Lucky, lucky, lucky! We have to be open to that.

I am one of the lucky ones. Coming to the end of my journey, closer every day, I can see that now. The wounds I have sustained along the way, many of them self-inflicted, have not proved fatal to this point. I can rest on my perch more often and watch the passing parade.

The flights that remain for me to take are more measured and more likely to be in the thick of a flock. I am complacent when overtaken and passed by the many more eager flyers. Sometimes, I am more concerned about our companions who have fallen behind. We are spending more time in the planning for others than in the doing for ourselves. And, I do have a partner ready to give a hand. Lucky, lucky, lucky! 

Max Roytenberg is 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.

From the JI archives … BC

It is sometimes hard to look back over the pages of the Jewish Independent and its predecessor, the Jewish Western Bulletin, knowing what has happened since the articles were published. From the 1933 optimism that there was hope for German Jewry, to the enthusiastic welcome of a seemingly short-lived El Al office in Vancouver, to colleagues who have passed away.

images - From the JI archives … BC-related clippings

A tofu dish worth the effort

A tofu dish worth the effort. (photo by Shelley Civkin)

As far as my husband Harvey is concerned, tofu is a four-letter word. Spoken only in hushed tones. And for sure not in mixed company. If given a lie detector test and asked if he believed tofu was evil – as in, unforgivable and heinous – he would reply unconditionally in the affirmative. And he would pass the test. I, on the other hand, think quite highly of tofu. I have great respect for its versatility, inexpensiveness and health benefits. Granted, it’s undeniably bland when left to its own devices. But zhuzh it up with some seasoning, cover it in sauces and marinades, pair it with rice or noodles, and you’ve got yourself a very respectable, even snazzy, lunch, dinner or snack. Think of it as the tabula rasa of the food world. 

The other day, as I was contemplating what to make for lunch, Harvey was busy frying a couple of eggs on his little Proctor Silex one-burner cooktop. (He can’t go near our induction stove because of his pacemaker with defibrillator, so he was on his own.) It was the perfect time for me to indulge in a tofu-forward meal. 

Enter garlic sesame tofu from eatwithclarity.com. Sweet, salty and tangy, this recipe is delicious when freshly cooked and hot, and tastes even better cold the next day. The recipe calls for it to be served over rice with steamed broccoli, but I think it would be just as yummy over rice vermicelli noodles. It’s a bit labour intensive – not baked Alaska intensive, but do set aside about one to one-and-a-half hours to make this dish. It’s not a lunch you can throw together in 10 minutes like say, a PB&J sandwich. But, if you have the time, it’s totally worth the effort.

GARLIC SESAME TOFU

tofu
1 tbsp low-sodium tamari or soy sauce
1 16-ounce block of extra firm tofu
1 tbsp cornstarch
3 tbsp breadcrumbs

sauce
5 cloves garlic, minced (I used only 2)
1 tbsp oil
1/3 cup low-sodium tamari or soy sauce
2 tsp toasted sesame oil
2-3 tbsp honey or maple syrup
1 tbsp rice vinegar
1 tbsp cornstarch
4 tbsp water, divided

Preheat oven to 400˚F and line a cookie sheet with parchment paper.

Drain excess liquid from tofu by wrapping it in paper towel, placing it on a plate, covering it with another plate and pressing it down with a heavy object on top (I used a cast iron pan). Let it sit for about 30 minutes. Pressing the tofu makes it crispier.

Cut the pressed tofu into one-inch squares and put the squares in a large bowl. Toss with 1 tbsp tamari or soy sauce. Add 1 tbsp cornstarch, then 3 tbsp breadcrumbs (or Panko), until all pieces are evenly coated.

Put all the tofu squares on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and bake for about 30 to 35 minutes or until golden brown.

During the final 10 minutes of baking, prepare the sauce.

Mince the garlic and sauté it with 1 tbsp oil in a large non-stick pan for 2 to 3 minutes or until lightly browned. Be careful not to over cook it or it will become bitter.

Add in 1/3 cup tamari or soy sauce, 2 to 3 tbsp honey or maple syrup, 1 tbsp rice vinegar, 2 tbsp water and 2 tsp sesame oil.

In a separate bowl, whisk together 1 tbsp cornstarch and the remaining 2 tbsp of water and then add this to the fry pan. 

Heat over low heat for 3 to 5 minutes or until the sauce starts to bubble and thicken.

When the tofu is done, toss it in with the sauce. Garnish with sesame seeds and serve over rice with steamed broccoli (or rice vermicelli noodles). Enjoy!

You could likely make this same recipe using slabs of tofu, instead of cubes, essentially turning it into a fake-steak, but you’d still have to cut it so it’s not too thick. Different presentation, similar result, I’m guessing. Don’t quote me on that.

I’m told you can substitute tofu for all kinds of other proteins in dishes like lasagna, spaghetti and meat sauce, chicken casseroles, etc. That is, unless you have a husband who’s like a police sniffer dog. I tried it once, and Harvey busted me from 10 paces away. Luckily, I got off with a mere warning that time.

Since we’re on the topic of health foods, if you haven’t already discovered hemp hearts (also called hemp seeds), you’ve got to give these a try. For me, they’re the equivalent of Frank’s Red Hot sauce – “I put that sh*t on everything.” These little gems are deliciously nutty tasting and packed full of protein, omegas 3 & 6, amino acids and important nutrients like iron, magnesium, fibre and zinc. Plus, they’re gluten-free, vegan, paleo- and keto-friendly. And, if that isn’t enough to convince you, they’re grown in Canada! Oh, and they’re kosher! Manitoba Harvest is a big producer of hemp hearts, and you can buy them practically anywhere.

These little nuggets of nuttiness are an equal opportunity food – you can put them on salads and on toasted bagels, in smoothies, sprinkle them on casseroles and cereal, and even eat them straight out of the bag by the spoonful. You can bake with them, cook with them and substitute them for breadcrumbs in some recipes. 

Manitoba Harvest has an extensive lineup of hemp heart recipes at manitobaharvest.ca/blogs/hemp-resource-hub and I’ll definitely be trying some of them soon. The point is, I used to sneak these tiny protein warriors into our dinners without my hubby knowing until, one day, he relented and agreed to try a “test” spoonful (for the first time, or so he thought). Alert the media: he was instantly and completely culinarily hooked!

Moral of the story is this: don’t try to sneak in a known verboten food unless your partner is even slightly flexible in his/her culinary adventurousness. And, know this: there is absolutely no way to disguise a Brussels sprout. You can purée it, hide it in soup, barbeque it and smother it in maple syrup and feta, but it’s still a Brussels sprout. Like Sarah Palin said: “You can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig.” I respectfully submit that this is true of that mini cabbage-like vegetable that Harvey wouldn’t eat if it were the last food left in an Israeli bomb shelter. In all fairness, I feel the same way about okra. I’m only human, after all. 

Shelley Civkin, aka the Accidental Balabusta, is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review. She’s currently a freelance writer and volunteer.

לאן נתניהו לוקח את ישראל

:איש צבא בכיר לשעבר שמשתייך למחנה השמאל בישראל אומר על בנימין נתניהו

זה כמעט שנתיים לא השיגה ישראל הכרעה במלחמתה נגד ארגון טרור המצויד ב”טנדרים וכפכפים”, כדברי ראש הממשלה, למרות שכבר הרגה כשני אחוז מתושבי הרצועה. אבל אל דאגה, האיש הזה החליט לפצות אותנו על הכישלון בחזית הקטנה בפתיחת חזית נוספת, ראויה ללביאים שכמותנו, בפותחו במלחמה נגד מדינה ששטחה גדול משטחנו פי 66 ואוכלוסייתה מונה פי עשר מאוכלוסיית ישראל, כולל ערבים וחרדים שלא נושאים בנטל הבטחוני, וממעטים לשאת (שלא באשמתם) בנטל הכלכלי והטכנולוגי

ישראל שיכולה הייתה לסיים את המלחמה בעזה כבר לפני שנה, לשחרר את כל חטופיה ולהיכנס, תחת חסות אמריקאית, להסכמי נורמליזציה, בריתות צבאיות וכינון יחסים דיפלומטיים עם המדינות הסוניות המתונות, לו רק הסכימה לקדם את פתרון שתי המדינות, החליטה להעדיף את החזון המשיחי, את העליונות היהודית, את הגזענות, את האפרטהייד ואת מלאכת השמד והגירוש של תושבי הרצועה

ישראל שהפכה עבור הפלסטינים את רפיח וג’יבאליה למה שסטלינגרד מסמלת לרוסים, ומרד גטו ורשה ליהודים, מעניקה עכשיו לאיראנים על מגש של כסף את מה שהעניקו היפנים לאמריקאים בפרל הארבור: מוטיבציה מטורפת להשיב מלחמה שערה המוזנת על ידי עלבון צורב. התלכדות פנימית, ונחישות סבלנית וארוכת טווח לפגוע בנו אנושות

התבונה המדינית המינימלית מחייבת לנטרל איומים אפשריים ולחזק בריתות אזוריות בבואך להבעיר חזית חדשה גדולה ומאיימת. אבל אנחנו, סרבנים אולטימטיביים שכמותנו לכל פשרה, לכל הסדר, העדפנו להעצים את ההתלקחות האזורית, כי זו הייתה הדרך היחידה לשמר את לכידותה של הממשלה, להשכיח את מחדל העוטף ואת החטופים, וללכד שוב את עדר הכבשים הפבלובי על ידי השמעת רעם תופי המלחמה. עובדה, כולם מריירים

המלחמה שפתחנו נגד איראן בשורת חיסולים המזכירה מלחמת כנופיות יותר מאשר מלחמה בין אומות לא תשיג הכרעה. היא אולי הצליחה להנחית מכה ראשונית מכאיבה, אבל מהר מאוד היא תהפוך למלחמת התשה והקזת דם שעלולה להימשך שבועות, חודשים ואפילו שנים, וזאת בשעה שאורך הנשימה שלנו, בכל מובן אפשרי קצר יותר מזה של האיראנים

כדאי להיזכר במלחמת איראן עיראק שנמשכה 8 שנים גבתה קרוב למיליון הרוגים, חיילים ואזרחים, איראניים, מעל למיליון נכים, שני מיליון עקורים ואומה שמשננת עד היום בהתלהבות את הסיסמה ‘ג’נג, ג’נג תא פירוזי’ (מלחמה, מלחמה עד הניצחון)

המוטיבציה להשיג נשק גרעיני ולהגיע למאזן אימה מול ישראל שכבר מזוינת בנשק כזה רק תתחזק, והנזקים שאנחנו נסב לפרויקט הגרעיני יתוקנו תוך חודשים או שנים מועטות

אני רוצה להאמין בכל לבי שמישהו סביב שולחן מקבלי ההחלטות לקח בחשבון את התסריט ההגיוני הזה ואולי מישהו הרגיע אותו שמיתקפה מוצלחת תערער את המשטר ותביא להפלתו. אולי. אין לדעת. כרגע מסתמן שהסולידריות של אזרחי איראן עם המשטר דווקא גדלה תחת רושם המהלומה הראשונה

אז יצאנו למלחמה להשיג מטרה מוגבלת מבלי לקחת בחשבון שאולי היא תתרחב לעימות מתיש וארוך. לא צריך אלפי טילים ביום כדי להכניס את מדינת ישראל לטרפת, לסגור את נמלי התעופה והים שלה ולגרום לה נזקים כלכליים, נפשיים ולאומיים חמורים

מספיק כמה עשרות שיגיעו למטרות מדי שבוע כדי לסגור את המרחב האווירי, לשבש את שגרת החיים, לחבל אנושות בכלכלה המקרטעת ובמוסדות החינוך, להפוך את המציאות כאן לבלתי אפשרית, לפחות לאלו שלא מצוידים במקלטים אטומיים

אז יצאנו למלחמה להסיר סכנה עתידית שנויה במחלוקת וקיבלנו סכנה מיידית שלא ברור עד כמה אנחנו מוכנים להשלכותיה

Enjoy the best of Broadway

“It may sound like a cliché, but I really believe that music is a unique language. You don’t have to know how to read it, you might not understand the lyrics, but it can still touch your heart and soul,” Omer Shaish told the Independent. “At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what genre you listen to, it will always make you feel something. That’s what I always hope to do when I get on stage – use the music to touch people’s hearts and souls.”

photo - Omer Shaish brings My Broadway Shpiel – stories, Broadway tunes, popular Hebrew songs and original music – to Vancouver Aug. 21
Omer Shaish brings My Broadway Shpiel – stories, Broadway tunes, popular Hebrew songs and original music – to Vancouver Aug. 21. (photo from omershaish.com)

Shaish brings My Broadway Shpiel to Vancouver Aug. 21, 7:30 p.m., at Temple Sholom. In addition to offering a night of Broadway tunes, popular Hebrew songs and his own original music, the performance will raise money for Temple Sholom’s campership program.

While Shaish never attended summer camp growing up, he did talk about growing up in the Jewish community.

“We’re one big family and I love that about us,” said the singer, who was born and raised in Rishon LeZion, which is about 20 minutes south of Tel Aviv.

“I spent most of my teenage years and my early 20s in Tel Aviv, where I was surrounded by great art, amazing people and incredible food!” said Shaish, who knew from a young age that he was going to be a singer.

“My parents say that, as a toddler, I’d pick up anything that could resemble a microphone and sing at the top of my lungs – everywhere. I always loved having an audience,” he said. “Even though, in real life, I sometimes come across as a bit shy and introverted, having an audience to sing for always made me feel at home. Up until today, having an audience, no matter how big or small, brings me to life.”

Shaish started his career as a vocalist in the Israeli Air Force Band, performing on military bases and in Jewish communities in Europe and Canada. He also is an actor, performing in Israel before moving to New York City in 2007 and graduating from the American Musical and Dramatic Academy. He has numerous theatre, vocalist and soloist credits to his name, but mainly has been touring internationally as part of the classical vocal trio Kol Esperanza and with his self-produced, one-person show My Broadway Shpiel.

“Even though I love acting, I’ve been focusing on singing in the past few years,” he told the Independent. “I realized, throughout the years, that I feel more at home just being myself on stage. I enjoy sharing these moments with the audience and it makes every show feel different and so alive. Playing a character can be interesting, too, but, for me, there’s nothing better than simply being myself.”

At the moment, Shaish calls Baltimore, Md., home. Previously, he toured the United States for many years, and lived a few years in Los Angeles and in Miami.

“I absolutely love traveling, seeing the world and meeting lovely, interesting people,” he said. “My friends always make fun of me and say that they never know where I’m at, to which I reply with, ‘neither do I.’ It can be exhausting at times, but it’s always worth it. I feel very lucky to do what I love and that gives me a lot of energy to keep at it.”

He’s looking forward to performing here.

“I love Vancouver!” said Shaish. “I’ve been there many times and I think it’s one of the most beautiful places on earth. The last time was only a few months ago, for rehearsals and a recording session. I’ve performed in Vancouver before and I can’t wait to be back and enjoy the views, the fresh air and, of course, the wonderful people!”

About the show he’s bringing with him, My Broadway Shpiel, he said, “As I tell my story and share some anecdotes about the Jewish story of Broadway, I sing some classics from Fiddler on the Roof and West Side Story, and all the way to some surprises by ABBA and Elvis Presley!”

One of his favourite moments in the performance is when he shares the experience of living in the United States with a foreign name. 

“I have heard so many variations of my name from so many people that I have met,” he said. “‘Omer’ apparently isn’t very easy to pronounce. So, one day, I thought, why not write a song about it? I took Liza Minelli’s ‘Liza with a Z’ and turned it into ‘Omer with an E.’ At first, I wanted that to be the name of my show, but My Broadway Shpiel felt more fitting.”

As for the importance of music, he said, “This brings me back to how I see music as a language. It has superpowers. It can take us away from one reality and bring us to a completely different one within a split second. It triggers our emotions in such a powerful way. When people talk to me after a show and say that I made them laugh, made them cry, or made them forget about their day, I know I did something right.”

For tickets to My Broadway Shpiel, visit tickettailor.com/events/templesholom/1702794.