Determined to help others 

Photos from the book include Joy Karp speaking to a group of people at a Terry Fox Run in Whitehorse. (photo from Rick Karp)

Creating a Lasting Impact: The Amazing Life of Joy Esther Karp was recently published.

Written by Rick Karp, who was married to Joy for 49 years – many of them spent in the Yukon – the account tells of her determination to make a difference and how she made numerous contributions to society, while having to overcome life-threatening issues every few years.

Joy Karp died in 2017.

image - Creating a Lasting Impact book cover“I promised Joy a few weeks before she passed that I would ‘tell her story,’ and that is what I have done. People need to know who she was, what she accomplished throughout her life, how caring and supportive she was for others,” Rick Karp told the Independent. 

Two of the setbacks Joy Karp faced were a heart attack, after giving birth to twins in her early 20s, and a car accident, in which she was thrown from the vehicle onto a frozen Lake Ontario, smashing the bones in her left foot; she had to wear specially made shoes thereafter.

In 1986, the Karps moved from Ottawa to Whitehorse, where they brought the first McDonald’s to the North and were deeply involved in the economic, social and cultural fabric of the Yukon. But this didn’t protect the couple from life’s vicissitudes. 

Joy was kidnapped in 1992 and buried in her car for close to 17 hours.  The kidnappers shackled her wrists and ankles, blindfolded her, put a bag over her head and left her there without needed medication, despite knowing she had heart issues.

“After the kidnapping, Joy suffered horribly for years from PTSD and, a couple of years later, her heart gave out and she had to have a quadruple bypass operation,” Rick Karp said.

In addition, Joy’s foot was severely damaged after the kidnapping, and doctors considered amputation. The Karps, though, demanded that the doctors pursue another course, which allowed her to keep her foot.

A few years later, Joy had her first case of cancer and required operations, chemotherapy and radiation. The cancer returned after several years and proved incurable.

“The doctors thought it was a heart issue and all that Joy needed was a pacemaker,” Karp said. “The X-rays that they did to determine the positioning of the pacemaker showed that the issue was a cancerous growth that had developed in her right lung and had reached out and attached to her heart. 

photo - Rick Karp’s book about his wife, Joy, was recently released
Rick Karp’s book about his wife, Joy, was recently released. (photo from Rick Karp)

“They said that it was inoperable and that Joy only had about three months left, but she survived for close to 11 months.”

Despite all these adversities, Joy had an innate ability to understand and see the potential in others, to learn what they needed, and then make things happen for them, said Karp. People were always drawn to her, he said.

“This was one of the amazing things about Joy. She thought of others. She was a great listener. As a student, she helped her fellow students with assignments, and she had the ability to resolve issues.”

One of Joy Karp’s legacies is the McDonald’s Hands-On Business Training Program. The story begins in Ontario in the 1970s, with a job she had helping an owner-operator grow to five stores, and managing the head office. Confronted with a high turnover rate in some towns, the owner approached Joy for a solution. 

She created a training program in 1978 and implemented it at local McDonald’s restaurants. By the early 1980s, according to Karp, the program was used throughout the fast-food chain.

“This is a three-year program that takes employees, or others that apply, through training and development that solidifies their knowledge of all of the stations in McDonald’s, training in customer service, and all aspects of how the restaurant operates,” he said.

“Then, to the right people, the program offers the chance to rise from crew person to crew trainer, to swing manager, to assistant manager and to manager – it offers career opportunities. Also, embedded in the program is the concept of ‘promote from within,’ which has been adopted by businesses, well, everywhere.”

Among other accomplishments, Joy organized service and customer satisfaction workshops for the Whitehorse Chamber of Commerce when the city played host to the Canada Winter Games in 2007. Her efforts, Karp said, were recognized by the event’s organizers.

Additionally, she played a key role in bringing the Special Olympics to Whitehorse, helped arrange for an outdoor play area and training computers at the Yukon Child Development Centre, and was pivotal in obtaining funding to make the Yukon Arts Centre wheelchair accessible. In 2013, she wrote The Power of Service: Service Through the Eyes of Customers, a book that emphasizes the importance for businesses to develop relationships and trust with those they serve.

Creating a Lasting Impact can be purchased on the Bookstore page at rwkarp.ca. A signed copy can be ordered by emailing Karp at rickkarp46@gmail.com. 

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

The people’s army of Israel

Volunteers with Sar-El in Israel last March. (photo from Marina Sonkina)

Last year, about this time, I was in Israel, volunteering with Sar-El, an organization that connects the Israel Defence Forces with volunteers from more than 30 countries, who provide the army with non-combat support. So many others had wanted to help after Oct. 7 that I had to wait several months for my documents to be processed.

The mood was understandably sombre. Not just the trauma of the Hamas terror attacks, with hostages captive, but also the antisemitism that engulfed the Western world like fire. 

I asked some of my fellow volunteers why they had come to Israel during such a dangerous time. The answers I got, especially from non-Jews, both surprised and comforted me. A Christian volunteer from Detroit wanted Israel to know that it did not stand alone. A middle-aged Australian had been sponsored by her church in Sydney to help people of the Holy Land under an attack. Two Romanian girls didn’t speak a word of Hebrew or English, but answered me in Italian: “Aiuto” (“Help”).

“I had a very good life. I had a chance to travel all over the world. But, until now, I’ve been traveling horizontally,” a Parisian Jew of Algerian descent told me. “Now, it’s time to travel vertically,” she said, raising her eyes to the sky. “This land is sacred. I feel it here like nowhere else. And now it’s in peril.”

In spite of rockets being fired into Israel from Lebanon, Gaza and Yemen, the volunteers felt more protected in Israel than they did back home. Many felt relieved that, finally, there was no need to conceal one’s true feelings or to hide one’s Jewishness.

“I don’t feel safe in the US anymore,” said a New York lawyer who had been attacked from behind in the streets of Manhattan, his yarmulke yanked off his head.

A German woman from Munich was on her 10th visit to Israel. “I’m not Jewish, and I can’t explain it,” she said. “All I know is that I love people here. Love their warmth. Chaos? Yes! They talk loud, they are emotional, but I don’t mind that. I plan to spend half a year here once I retire.”

Initially, I wasn’t sure how we, civilians, could help the IDF fight Hamas in Gaza, but my first day at the medical military base near Tel Aviv made it clear. Hundreds of different medications and medical devices that had come from warehouses across the country had to be sorted out, their expiration dates checked. Those who accuse Israel of racism should see these medicines, each labeled in four languages: Hebrew, Arabic, English and Russian. (Thanks to Soviet antisemitism and, lately, to Putin’s war on Ukraine, 15% of Israel’s population comes from Russia.) 

On the military base, I saw clearly what is best in Israel: its people. The IDF mirrors the diversity and inclusiveness of a society that, in its short history, has accepted refugees from more than 100 countries. 

Without Moshe, for example, we would have had no idea how to sort the truckloads of medications arriving every day. Having come to Israel from Bukhara (in Central Asia) as a child, Moshe kibitzed in three languages, instructing us by means of his hands while talking on his cellphone. From his easy smile, I would never have guessed that his wife had recently died of cancer, that his two sons were fighting in Gaza and that, every day after his work with us, he went to a synagogue to pray. One morning, Moshe directed us to place boxes in long rows on the floor, in an unusual configuration. The next morning, a group of children with autism and down syndrome came to finish the sorting, also helping their people’s army.

Paul, a mathematician who came from France, was in charge of the military base’s math department. Ruth, who had made aliyah from the Netherlands as a teenager, was serving as one of the madrichot (female soldiers tasked with organizing and looking after Sar-El’s volunteers); after the army, she hoped to become a specialist in Japanese culture.

On another military base, about 20 kilometres from Gaza, in the Negev Desert, one of our tasks was to assemble care packages for soldiers spending Passover at the front, away from home. In two days, we filled 15,000 boxes with grape juice, matzah and other traditional items. A  soldier with a distinct Californian accent came to help us. He was a “lone soldier,” a soldier who has no family in Israel. Various families take turns welcoming lone soldiers for Shabbat, feeding them and giving them a sense of home.

photo - The cover of a Haggadah that Sar-El volunteers inserted into thousands of Passover boxes that were sent to Israeli soldiers in Gaza. It shows the multicultural character of the Israel Defence Forces
The cover of a Haggadah that Sar-El volunteers inserted into thousands of Passover boxes that were sent to Israeli soldiers in Gaza. It shows the multicultural character of the Israel Defence Forces. (photo from Marina Sonkina)

Once, an officer joined us, helping make up the boxes, which was unusual, given his rank. Later, I saw him in the mess hall speaking in Hebrew to the base commander, who was originally from India. I found out that the officer was Druze. Living mainly in the country’s north, in the Galilee region, the Druze community enjoys all the civil rights of other Israelis, while maintaining their Arabic language and customs. Many Druze reach high echelons in the army, in medicine and other professions. When a Hezbollah rocket struck the Druze town of Majdal Shams, killing 12 children playing soccer, Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu went there, addressing community members as “brothers and sisters.” He promised that Hezbollah would “pay a heavy price” for killing their children, and he kept his word.

When I think of the soldiers I met and talked to, one thing sets them apart from young people of their age in North America: a seriousness of purpose, and the burden of responsibility. They know that the survival of Israel lies on their shoulders. They also know that, while defending their  country, they may not survive. Death lurks behind every corner in Gaza and Lebanon. It has hidden in an effigy of a child pleading, in Hebrew, for help, but booby-trapped with explosives. It was underground, in the tunnels, some going 50 kilometres deep. It disguised itself in doctors’ scrubs, inside Kamal Adwan Hospital in Gaza, which was appropriated by Hamas terror operatives.

Every fallen soldier is loved and mourned as one’s own child. Army service acts as a social glue in a country into which millions of refugees, speaking different languages, have poured. The IDF is still the backbone and pride of this society.

At a party for troops just returned from Gaza, I saw a religious Jew in a yarmulke (skullcap) and tzitzit (prayer shawl) hanging from under his uniform, with a baby girl in each arm and an automatic rifle dangling behind his back. I talked to a medic, a corporal who was more outspoken than many – a college history teacher in times of peace, he had three young children at home.  

“Is there any possibility of peace between Palestinians and Jews?” I asked him.

“Before Oct. 7, I supported a two-state solution because I wanted peace, but the Palestinians do not want peace,” he responded. “We’ve tried it many times in the past. They want only one state, an Islamic Caliphate with Sharia rule. We, Jews, are in their way and they want us dead…. We have to fight – if we want to survive.”

“What about your children?” I asked. “Will they have to fight, too?”

“Yes, them, too,” he said. “They’ll be left with no other choice.” 

I shook my head in distress but said nothing.

“Look,” said the man, “illusions cost us very dearly. We can’t afford them anymore.”

I remembered Golda Meir’s words, spoken in 1957: “Peace will come when the Arabs will love their children more than they hate us.”

There is a truce in Gaza now. But, while some 20,000 Hamas fighters have been eliminated, 10,000 armed fighters are still at large. 

Marina Sonkina is a fiction writer, and teaches in the Liberal Arts Program 55+ at Simon Fraser University.

Welcoming guests again

There may not be magic at hand to prepare dinner or clean up afterwards, but the Weasleys’ home in the Harry Potter series, the Burrow, is a good model for how to welcome guests, with Mrs. Weasley’s always sharing her love, food, home, and even her motherly reprimands with others. (photo by Karen Roe / flickr)

This winter, I felt our household was in hibernation. Between endless viruses brought home from middle school and -30˚C temperatures in Winnipeg, I doubted we’d ever emerge. Then, our household caught a break. We’ve had a few weeks now where all four of us seem mostly healthy. Also, there has been a rare moment of “early spring,” where temperatures are around freezing, the sun is out and everyone seems cheerful about the deep, goopy slush.

We have started to dig ourselves out. Not from the snow, but from all the activities we piled up during the coldest time of year. One kid removed his slot car racers and a 3D printer project from the dining room. Another kid tidied up a huge set he’s building for his video production class. There are still too many books and knitting projects on the coffee table (my fault). My husband even cleaned up his piles of paper. Why all the hurry? Well, suddenly people are coming over again to visit. We’re hopefully emerging from our long retreat.

During our hibernation, we stayed home, went to work and school, and to synagogue. That was mostly it. But then I got an email out of the blue. When I walk my setter-mix dog, we often encounter a tiny dog, Lulu, and her human, and we chat. Deep into our winter sojourn, we weren’t seeing Lulu or her people much, it was just too cold. Yet Lulu’s people, thoughtful neighbours, invited us over for cheese fondue, wine and a warm chat. After a great night out a block from home, I realized how small our world had become. I decided we owed them a dinner invitation. They’re coming (probably without Lulu) for Shabbat dinner this week.

I’ve always enjoyed cooking big Shabbat and holiday dinners for friends and having great conversations at the table. I was raised with this kind of hospitality. My parents’ home was always open to my friends, who timed their visits to enjoy their favourite foods or discuss things with my parents or siblings, and their friends, too. However, over the years, I’d really cut back on these dinners. First, because my twins still go to bed early. Then, because of the pandemic. After Oct. 7, I felt wary about the outside world and wanted to feel safe at home. About a year ago, I stopped inviting people. I could say it was because I was concentrating on my twins’ b’nai mitzvah preparations or the event itself, with friends and family visiting, but that was last June. This winter, we’ve been sick and it’s been so cold.

On one Shabbat at synagogue, I heard an impromptu talk from a young adult visiting home. He was serving in the Israel Defence Forces as a lone soldier and spent part of his time at home talking to groups about what was happening in Israel, and we discussed how to combat antisemitism in Canada. At this event, a community member suggested that inviting friends and allies over, perhaps to Shabbat dinner, could help others learn about who we are and gather more support. 

What happened afterwards, along with the warmer, slushy weather, is that some of our friends began to seek us out. 

Last week, an amazing acquaintance, who used to run a gallery we loved, asked me to sign one of my books for her friend’s birthday. Of course, I said, come on over. I showed her our “new” historic house and she brought me tulips.

Then, a longtime artist friend in her 80s contacted me and decided she was coming over the next morning for muffins and coffee, so she could show off her newest marbled paper experiments.

Last week, a retired newspaper columnist that I really respect happened to spot my husband outdoors with the dog. He started to text with my husband and asked to come see how we’d renovated things. My husband said yes. Our neighbourhood’s full of old houses with interesting quirks, so visiting each other’s homes is always fun. They’re coming for coffee and cake on Sunday. It seemed like high time to pick up the dog toys from the living room carpet.

All of these encounters with warm people who sought us out and wanted to get back in touch? None of them is Jewish. All of them are people who want us to know they are safe, they care about us, and they value our company. This was an important realization, well worth the effort it takes to clean up the messy paw prints and kid fingerprints for a visit.

When I imagine how I want my home to appear to friends, or even strangers, I think of the Burrow, the Weasleys’ home in the Harry Potter series. Well, that’s not quite right. Our house doesn’t use magic to knit sweaters or stir pots of soup. Those are my hands, my knitting and my cooking, instead. However, whenever I think of the Burrow, I think of a warm, welcoming place where Mrs. Weasley feeds everybody and makes everyone feel welcome and loved, despite the normal clutter and chaos of family life.

My notion of hachnasat orchim (welcoming guests) comes from Jewish tradition, a much older playbook than the Harry Potter series. However, the meaning feels the same, even if my household menu includes hamantashen and chicken soup. Mrs. Weasley’s always sharing her love, food, home, and even her motherly reprimands with others, and it goes beyond her family. Her home, the Burrow, sounds like a retreat, but it’s not a hibernation. It’s an enthusiastic embrace.

I am hoping to get back to that safe and cheerful place, where our home is full again with fascinating friends, good food, stimulating conversation and an open heart. Our gardens are still under dirty snow here. It sometimes takes a heroic effort to rise above winter weather and the residual sadness of the war, but good things await. Things are warming up at my house in Manitoba. I’m hoping for happier days ahead. 

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.

Popeye and peanut butter

The teeny size of these peanut butter banana bites makes you think you’re not eating much, so be careful. (photo from adasheofmegnut.com)

I’m long overdue to share a new recipe or two. With our recent move to a new condo, I’ve been preoccupied with exploring the neighbourhood, trying new-to-us restaurants and cafés, and doing a few renos here and there. Despite the excitement of it all, sleep is still elusive to me. Plus, I’ve been feeling a little tired lately (iron-deficient?), so I figured some iron-rich soup might just hit the spot. I whipped up some creamy spinach soup and immediately felt like Popeye. Or Popeye’s favourite sister. Perfect soup for a cold day, of which we’ve had so many over the last few weeks. You’re welcome.

EASY CREAMY SPINACH SOUP
(from the Spruce Eats)

2-3 tsp olive oil
2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cubed
1/2 medium onion, finely chopped
1 stalk celery, finely chopped
2 cloves minced garlic
2 cups chicken broth
2 cups milk (or 1 cup milk and 1 cup coconut milk)
1 large bunch of fresh spinach, stems removed
ground black pepper, to taste
kosher salt, to taste

In a large saucepan, heat the olive oil. Sauté the cubed potato, the onion, celery and garlic for about five minutes. Add the chicken broth and milk. Bring to a boil, cover and simmer on low for 10 minutes. Stir in all the spinach, cover, and simmer for 10 more minutes. Cool slightly, then transfer the soup to a blender, 1working in batches. Blend until smooth. Taste for seasoning and serve.

I didn’t use any onion, since onions don’t particularly like me, and I ended up using four cups of chicken broth, since I didn’t have enough regular or coconut milk. The consistency was a bit thin but it was still yummy. And I got a month’s worth of non-heme iron in one go. I’ve learned that potatoes are a nice way to thicken soups, especially if you’re going for something dairy-free. 

I had intended to bake challah to go with the soup, but time got away from me and I just couldn’t swing it. At the last minute, the understudy sourdough bread came to the dunking rescue and we had a satisfying meal. Harvey declared the soup a solid success, so who can argue with that? I was worried that the simplicity of the recipe might spell bland, but it was surprisingly tasty. 

Skipping right to dessert, I discovered a fun little recipe for Peanut Butter Banana Bites on adashofmegnut.com. It’s crazy easy and can be jazzed up with chocolate chips or melted chocolate. It was billed as a kid-friendly snack but I would never presume to declare something a “toddler snack,” since who among us doesn’t like peanut butter, or chocolate? 

PEANUT BUTTER BANANA BITES
(from A Dash of Megnut)

one banana, sliced 1/4” to 1/2” pieces
3 tbsp peanut butter (or almond butter), melted slightly
6 oz mini chocolate chips or melted chocolate (optional)

Line a mini muffin tin with 12 liners or use a silicone mini muffin tin. Put a slice of banana into each muffin liner. Pour one to two teaspoons of peanut butter on top of each banana slice. Top with a few mini chocolate chips or melted chocolate (optional, but, seriously, who would say no to chocolate?). Freeze for a few hours to harden the peanut butter. Then enjoy!

These keep well in the freezer and make for a quick and easy snack. And if you substitute hemp hearts for mini chocolate chips you get an even healthier snack (don’t hate me). I haven’t tried it, but you could probably add some cooked quinoa to the melted peanut butter to jack it up to a superfood (again, don’t hate me). The teeny size of these peanut butter banana bites makes you think you’re not eating much, so be careful.

As for main courses, I’m in a bit of a rut right at the moment. It seems like we have an endless loop of chicken, fish and meat every week. We’re not huge pasta eaters (well, Harvey would eat it every day if I let him), so I feel kind of limited in my repertoire. I can’t eat a lot of roughage and high-fibre foods, so huge salads are out. I think I just need a holiday in the sun, where someone else does the cooking for a couple of weeks and I can recharge.

On the home front, our new condo has an induction stove, which I love. There’s one glitch though. Harvey recently had a pacemaker and defibrillator implanted in his chest, which means he’s not allowed to get within two feet of our induction stove or he might get shocked from the electromagnetic field. This presents a problem for a man who regularly makes omelettes, crepes and other stovetop foods. A natural born problem solver, Harvey immediately went out and bought a single-burner countertop hotplate. And, to my surprise, he’s produced some pretty darn good omelettes. But there are only so many eggs you can eat. I hinted that the hotplate might work well for crepes, but he hasn’t taken the bait so far. I guess we’ll be ordering in sushi and Chinese food until I get my groove back.

For now, I’ll just keep trying new marinades for our weekly chicken, fish and meat. As they say: You can put lipstick on a chicken thigh … but it’s still a chicken thigh. I suppose I could go full-bore Cher (from the movie Mermaids) and feed my husband fun finger foods (read: hors d’oeuvres) for all our meals. That could be a lot of fun. Or not.

Harvey: “What’s for dinner tonight, sweetie?”

Shelley: “Cocktail weiners in grape jelly sauce, and melted brie with walnuts and honey.”

Harvey: “You’re fired.”

Shelley: “Who do you think you are – Trump? You can’t fire me. I’m your wife.”

Harvey: “So, will it be sushi or pizza?”

Bon appetit. 

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.

What your tchotchkes think

Ever wondered what your leather-bound journal thinks about you? Your menorah? The bowl you made in a pottery class? What astrological sign your keepsakes might be? How they’d like to be handled, cared for? Where they’d like to be in your home?

For most of us, the answer is probably no … to all of the above. But Elisabeth Saake has thought of all these things. And, after reading her latest book, Tchotchkes and their F*cked-Up Thoughts: The Messed-Up Minds of Your Trinkets and Treasures (Collective Book Studio), you will too. It’s a follow-up to her 2023 Houseplants and Their F*cked-Up Thoughts: PS, They Hate You, which she wrote with Carlyle Christoff.

image - Tchotchkes and their F*cked-Up Thoughts book coverDivided into five sections, no knickknack is spared. Saake covers the whimsical (lava lamp, rubber chicken, etc.), vintage and collectibles (antique compass, souvenir spoon, etc.), cultural and artisanal (woven tapestry, ceramic urn, etc.), spiritual and mystical (worry stone, crystal ball, etc.) and functional and decorative (novelty salt and pepper shakers, participation trophy, etc.).

About your journal, don’t worry, it thinks “your poetry is profound” and is “totally listening and deeply moved”; it only appears to be setting itself on fire.

But your menorah would like to be treated as more than a “fancy candleholder”: “Fill my branches with holy oil from trees grown on the Mount of Olives, just a day’s worth, and watch me burn for eight! Or cram in cheap candles from your big box store’s Hanukkah display. That works, too. Way to honour your ancestors, nudnik.”

And your handmade pottery is a “real bowl,” even if it “was made in a beginner’s night class at the community college”: “I’m round enough, I’m stable enough and, doggone it, people like me!” Though, it’s “a bit wobbly,” so perhaps no soup … maybe just display it on a kitchen shelf, as the “mantel is for the perfect porcelain.”

Tchotchkes and their F*cked-Up Thoughts would make a great gift to any friend (with a sense of humour) who’s a collector of things, or to any friend who has judged others’ collections of things. It’s snarky, a little dark at times, but will bring many chuckles and laughs, even if every joke doesn’t land. It’s colourful and beautifully put together. Hopefully, it will think as highly of you, its place in your home and how you care for it – and have an astrological sign that’s compatible with yours. 

The courage of Esther

“Queen Esther with Mordechai,” a Venetian glass mosaic triptych, 64” x 64”, by Vancouver artist Lilian Broca. 

“This triptych mosaic image depicts a scene in the harem of King Ahasuerus and Queen Esther’s Palace in Susa,” writes Lilian Broca on her website. “Mordechai just brought Haman’s decree, which announces the proposed genocide of Esther’s people in Persia. Esther is reeling as she reads the parchment. She realizes at this moment that her role as a submissive wife to the king is about to change.” For more, visit lilianbroca.com. 

Unique Cochin rituals

Cochin Jews at the 450th year celebration of the Paradesi synagogue, December 2017. (photo by Shalva Weil)

A study on the Purim traditions of the Cochin Jewish community by Prof. Shalva Weil of Hebrew University was published in the Journal of Modern Jewish Studies. It examines the historical and cultural significance of effigies in Purim celebrations among Cochin Jews, tracing their evolution from the 16th century to the modern day.

The Cochin Jewish community, numbering no more than 2,400 at its peak in 1948, lived in harmony with their Hindu, Christian and Muslim neighbours. Unlike other Jewish communities, they never experienced antisemitism in India, except during the Portuguese conquest of the 16th century. Their unique Purim celebrations featured role reversals that symbolically challenged societal hierarchies based on caste, religion and gender. This inversion of power structures was most vividly expressed through the construction and destruction of effigies representing adversaries, a practice embedded in the communal and ritualistic fabric of Cochin Jewry.

By the 20th century, Cochin Jews increasingly aligned themselves with the global Jewish community. Following the establishment of the state of Israel in 1948, the majority of Cochin Jews made aliyah by 1954, leaving behind only a small number of Paradesi and Malabar Jews scattered across the state of Kerala. The once-thriving Cochin Jewish community on the Malabar Coast is nearly extinct, and traditional Purim celebrations have all but disappeared. With only one Paradesi Jew remaining there and a handful in other former Cochin Jewish locations, synagogue services now rely on visiting Jewish tourists.

In stark contrast, in Israel, where an estimated 15,000 descendants of Cochin Jews now reside, Purim is celebrated in ways that reflect broader Jewish and Western cultural traditions. Children dress up as superheroes, soldiers and biblical figures; they participate in school parties and exchange hamantashen. Observant Jews continue to read the Book of Esther in synagogue and hold festive meals, incorporating their heritage into mainstream Jewish customs.

Weil, who has been awarded this year’s Yakir Yerushalayim honour as a distinguished citizen of Jerusalem due to her lifelong research into ethnicity and gender, highlights in her research the transition of Cochin Jewry from a localized, community-bound identity to an integrated and globalized Jewish experience. While their presence in India has nearly vanished, the legacy of Cochin Jews continues to thrive in Israel and beyond. 

– Courtesy Hebrew University

בורחים מטראמפ ועוברים לקנדה

מספר האמריקאים שעוזבים את ארה”ב ועוברים למדינה השכנה מצפון – קנדה – הולך וגדל. זאת, בעיקר עקב בחירתו המחודשת של דונלד טראמפ לנשיא המדינה

קרוב למאה אלף אמריקאים חצו את הגבול בעשר השנים האחרונות והפכו לתושבי קבע או אזרחים, לפי דיווח של ממשלת קנדה. וזאת בעיקר עקב בחירתו של טראמפ בפעם הראשונה לנשיאות (לפני כתשע שנים), לצד הרגשת חוסר הביטחון האישי, שהיו מהגורמים המרכזיים להגירה לקנדה

בעקבות המתיחות הפוליטית הגוברת בארה”ב, בוודאי אחרי בחירתו בחודש נובמבר של טראמפ לנשיא האמריקני בפעם השנייה, והזעזועים החברתיים העמוקים, יותר ויותר אמריקאים בוחנים אפשרות להגר לקנדה. נתוני גוגל טרנדס מראים זינוק משמעותי בחיפושים אחר מעבר לקנדה, שהחלו לאחר העימות הטלוויזיוני בין הנשיא היוצא ג’ו ביידן לטראמפ, כשביידן נראה מבולבל מאוד לאורך השידור, כך לפי דיווחים בעיתונות האמריקנית

מהלנה-רי ג’ונסון, אישה שחורה בת ארבעים ושתיים, מייצגת את גל ההגירה הזה. ג’ונסון, שגדלה בדרום ארה”ב ועברה ללוס אנג’לס, החליטה בשנת  אלפיים ושמונה עשרה עבור לקנדה עם בן זוגה. היא רצתה  לחיות במקום שבו המדינה לא נמצאת במלחמה מתמדת. לדבריה במדינה כמו קנדה היא מקום בו היא מרגישה בטוחה יותר עם משפחתה

לפי נתוני ממשלת קנדה, בין השנים אלפיים וחמש עשרה ועד הרבעון השלישי של שנה שעברה, קיבלו למעלה מתשעים ושלושה אלף אמריקאים תושבות קבע בקנדה. המספרים עולים בהתמדה כמעט מדי שנה מאז בחירתו של טראמפ לנשיאות בארה”ב בפעם הראשונה

אולם החיים בקנדה אינם חסרי אתגרים ובעיות. יותר ויותר אמריקאים מדווחים על הקשיים הכלכליים במעבר. כך למשל, כריס אולט בן הארבעים, שעבר מפורטלנד לויקטוריה במחוז בריטיש קולומביה, סיפר שהדירה שלו בארה”ב בבניין מגורים עלתה כשלוש מאות אלף דולר. ואילו אותה דירה בקנדה עולה בין חצי מיליון לתשע מאות אלף דולר. ובתים פרטיים הרבה יותר יקרים בקנדה ומחירם נאמד סביב מיליון דולר או אף יותר

האמריקנים שעברו לקנדה מספרים שהשירות הרפואי בקנדה הוא חינם עבור אזרחים ותושבי קבע, או בעלות נמוכה מאוד. וזה יתרון אדיר מול ארה”ב שבה השירות הרפואי עולה הרבה מאוד כסף, ויש משפחות מתקשות להתמודד עם הוצאה חיונית וגדולה זו. מצד שני זמני ההמתנה לטיפולים רפואיים ארוכים במיוחד בקנדה, עם תורים שיכולים להגיע לשנה וחצי עבור ניתוחים לא דחופים. המצב כל כך חמור עד כדי כך שאנשים נאלצים לטוס למדינות אחרות, כולל בחזרה לארה”ב, כדי למשל לעבור ניתוחים מסובכים

למרות בעיות ההגירה הקשורות בקנדה, המהגרים מדווחים על יתרונות משמעותיים. מערכת החינוך נחשבת איכותית יותר, והביטחון האישי גבוה יותר, בעיקר בכל מה שקשור לעניין רישוי הנשק, שהוא פרוץ לגמרי בארה”ב. וזה מעלה חשש גדול אצל הורים ששולחים ילדים למסגרות החינוך נוכח תקריות הירי, שהפכו כבר לדי שכיחות במדינתם

אם כן, אמנם קנדה מהווה פתרון אטרקטיבי לאמריקאים שמחפשים שינוי נוכח התנודות הפוליטיות במדינה והחשש לביטחון האישי שלהם, אבל היא לא אוטופיה. גם במדינה השכנה יש לא מעט מורכבויות ואתגרים כלכליים, חברתיים ותרבותיים. וכידוע חיי מהגרים לא תמיד קלים במיוחד בשנים הראשונות לקליטתם במדינתם החדשה

טראמפ שנכנס שוב הפעם לבית הלבן מדיר שינה מאמריקנים רבים שמבינים היטב עד כמה הוא מסוכן למדינתם, למערב ובעצם לעולם כולו. ועל כן מספר המהגרים מארה”ב לקנדה צפוי לגדול בשנים הקרובות. בקנדה שמתעבים את טראמפ מקבלים את האמריקנים בזרועות פתוחות כבני משפחה לכל דבר ועניין.

The roots of antisemitism

For decades, conversations about antisemitism and racism have been running on separate tracks, Prof. Magda Teter told the Independent. But there is a connection, she said, and, in her March 4 talk at Congregation Beth Israel, she will explain that link.

photo - Prof. Magda Teter, author of the forthcoming book Blood Libels, Hostile Archives: Reclaiming Interrupted Jewish Lives, speaks at Congregation Beth Israel on March 4
Prof. Magda Teter, author of the forthcoming book Blood Libels, Hostile Archives: Reclaiming Interrupted Jewish Lives, speaks at Congregation Beth Israel on March 4, 7:30 p.m. (photo by Chuck Fishman)

The lecture, called Reckoning with the Roots of Antisemitism and Racism, is co-presented by the synagogue and the Archdiocese of Vancouver. Teter, a professor of history and the Shvidler Chair of Judaic Studies at Fordham University, is president of the American Academy of Jewish Research. She is the author of several books, most recently Christian Supremacy: Reckoning with the Roots of Antisemitism and Racism (2023). Her book Blood Libel: On the Trail of An Antisemitic Myth (2020) won several awards, including the 2020 National Jewish Book Award. Other publications include Sinners on Trial: Jews and Sacrilege after the Reformation (2011), Jews and Heretics in Catholic Poland (2006) and many articles (in English, Hebrew, Italian and Polish). 

Teter has a new book coming out soon, called Blood Libels, Hostile Archives: Reclaiming Interrupted Jewish Lives, which, according to the summary, “explores two places: Trent, in northern Italy, and Sandomierz, in eastern Poland … both had been sites of anti-Jewish libels falsely accusing Jews of killing Christian children, Trent in 1475 and Sandomierz twice – in 1698 and 1710; in both, the instigators of the Jews’ persecution left unique and extensive archives, both towns have physical remnants of these deadly affairs, and, finally, neither town has an existing Jewish population. Yet, centuries later, these anti-Jewish libels have not been relegated to the past; in both towns, their legacies still reverberate today.”

image - Blood Libels, Hostile Archives book cover“There has been a lot of scholarship about blood libels – the false accusations against Jews that emerged in the Middle Ages, charging them with killing Christian children,” said Teter. “Scholars, including myself, have analyzed the trials, the rhetoric, iconography and anti-Jewish works to understand how these anti-Jewish ideas emerged and spread. What is largely missing from this scholarship is the real, not the imagined, Jews – those Jews whose lives were destroyed by these accusations. So, what this book is trying to do is to recover the lives of Jews who were subjects of these accusations and tell us about them, how they lived, rather than how they were imagined by their accusers. The tricky part of this is how you recover their lives from documents that were created for the purpose of showing Jews’ guilt and how cruel, heinous and hateful Jews were. So, this book is trying to do just that: to peel through the layers of hostility for the glimpses of lives that were destroyed. It matters. This allows us to wrest the story away from the Jews’ accusers.”

Teter, who isn’t Jewish, grew up in communist Poland where, she said, “Jewish topics were a taboo.” Nonetheless, Poland is “a country whose history is so tightly intertwined with Jewish history, so I was very conscious of Poland’s Jewish past,” she said. “I wanted to learn more.”

This led Teter to Columbia University, where she earned a PhD.

“One of the inspirations for me in taking on difficult topics is the arduous path of Jewish-Catholic dialogue and reconciliation in the aftermath of World War II,” she explained. “It was a process of hard and honest conversations. What these conversations and subsequent documents that emerged show is that hard truths don’t have to tear groups apart but can bring people closer together. But, I think, in the last several years, we have been losing the ability to talk to one another on difficult topics. We, as a society, tend to look for affirmation or we walk away, block or dismiss. We closed ourselves in comfortable bubbles.

“My last book picks up threads that may have been left unexamined in the history of antisemitism – the questions of power and domination,” she continued, referring to Christian Supremacy. “As for the responses, in general, people are initially taken aback by the book’s title … but then, if they are willing to read or listen, they become appreciative of my pointing to something that they had not noticed before. That’s my goal in teaching and writing – I am not looking for affirmation, I hope readers or listeners will leave with a few ‘new thoughts.’ I also hope to learn from the readers and listeners. Their questions often help me clarify my thoughts as well and often inspire ‘new thoughts,’ too.”

Teter, who became a fellow of the American Academy for Jewish Research in 2016, has served on the executive board and, at one point, as treasurer of the academy. She was elected president in 2022 for a two-year term, and is currently in her second and last term.

“It is the oldest organization of scholars in Jewish studies in North America,” she said of the academy, which was founded in 1920. 

“While at the beginning it focused on amplifying the scholarship of the fellows,” she said, “since the beginning of this century, the academy has been focused on programs intended to cultivate the next generation of scholars. For example, the academy awards the annual Salo Baron Prize for the best first book in Judaic studies, runs the biennial summer graduate student workshop and the early career workshop for untenured faculty and, with the increasingly diminishing opportunities for graduate student research, the academy offers dissertation research grants.”

Last month, in an interview with The New York Review of Books – for which she has written – Teter was asked what responsibility historians have to be guided by what’s happening in the present. She cautioned, “We must allow the past to speak on its own terms, even when asking questions that are pertinent to the present.”

“We are all shaped by our own experiences and contexts,” Teter told the Independent. “We often ask questions that are relevant to our own lives. But these may be questions that people of the past did not ask. We have to try to understand their lives on their own terms. They did not know what we now know. They did not hold the same values we do. So, it’s OK to ask about how women or non-binary people were treated in the past, or how people thought about the environment, or how they responded to pandemics, but we should not try to make them feminists or environmentalists.

“Let me give you another example, the world is now animated by the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and many ask questions about how these different peoples engaged with each other historically, how they thought about one another – if they thought of one another. To find answers, we go to historical sources, but we have to read these historical sources on their own terms, not look only for examples that confirm what we already believe. We need to let them speak in the language and the values of the time in which they were created, not through the lens of now.”

There are other lenses too, and ways of connecting the past with the present. In a 2023 interview with JTA, Teter said, “Understanding Jews’ place in history and society, on their own terms but also on the terms imposed on them from the outside, holds much relevance today.” 

“There are two vantage points from which Jews’ place in history can be seen: from the outside, and how Jews experienced their own lives,” she told the Independent. “The 2023 interview took place before Oct. 7 in the context of a recognition by the New York Jewish Week of my role in giving Jewish life in the Bronx more visibility, a borough that has now one of the smallest Jewish populations in New York but one that was, in the mid-20th century, proportionally, the most Jewish borough in New York, with nearly 50% of the population being Jewish.

“But that sentence from 2023 can be illustrated in 2025 in another way. Today, we are still reeling from the aftermath of Oct. 7. One of the main topics that concerns Jewish communities around the world is the rise of antisemitism. But when we talk or write about the history of antisemitism, we typically talk about what antisemites think or do – that is, we discuss it in terms ‘imposed’ from the outside, but what I am asking us to do is to also pay attention to Jews’ lived experiences, and not to refract that experience solely through the external lens. It is something that my forthcoming book is trying to do.”

When asked whether she was, in this moment, hopeful, despondent about or resigned to what humanity is capable of, Teter said, “We live in very dark times. I am very depressed when I look at the ruling elites, whether political or corporate. I am also despondent about the role social media is playing in our society – robbing us of our ability to talk to one another, to argue and reason with one another. I am most hopeful when I am with my students, when we have time to spend together and patiently wrestle with difficult topics or texts. When humans take that time to stop, read, think and talk, things can become better. Social media and the current commercial media environment push us to react without discernment. 

Prof. Magda Teter’s talk at Beth Israel is a free event, but registration is required at bethisrael.ca.