Cassandra Freeman

Connecting from heart

Zelik Segal teaches an ongoing, free class in Nonviolent Communication. (photo from Zelik Segal)

We’ve all had an experience in which someone is short-tempered with us for no apparent reason, or doesn’t respond to us as we would like. We have a choice in that moment to react in kind or to pause, understanding that they may be having a bad day, or are dealing with chronic pain, or any number of things that have little or nothing to do with us. In situations like these, something called Nonviolent Communication (NVC) might come in handy.

In a nutshell, NVC teaches how to observe a conflict with objectivity, in place of subjective evaluations of right and wrong or appropriate and inappropriate. It also teaches how to sort out your own feelings and understand what needs of yours are in play, then how to determine what action might fulfil your needs in a conflict without taking away from the needs of the other person or people.

Want to experiment with that process? Zelik Segal teaches an ongoing, free class in NVC in Vancouver that helps people who are experiencing conflict and are ready to address it. It could be a marital problem or an ongoing argument with a friend or family member.

Segal took his first course in NVC in 2012 and has been facilitating and practising for the past six years; he is working on his certification. Segal began studying NVC after he retired from 18 years as a bus driver with Coast Mountain Bus Company. Prior to that, he worked as Lower Mainland regional coordinator for the B.C. Head Injury Program, under the ministry of health.

“When coming into a group to teach NVC, I also experience learning together and creating community that feeds my soul,” Segal told the Independent. “And having the good fortune to have discovered this jewel of living a more rewarding life, I like to share my good fortune with anyone else willing to learn.”

Segal calls himself an “empathy coach.” As such, he sometimes helps NVC students unravel difficult situations in their lives.

“Teaching NVC is the most immediate and direct way I can fulfil the talmudic statement from Rabbi Tarfon, who said, ‘You are not responsible to complete the task (of repair, tikkun olam), nor are you free from doing your part.’”

Segal recognizes that NVC is not always effective in resolving conflict and that it can take a lot of patience to sort through complex situations. He told the Independent that it did, however, change his life.

“While my connections to people and activities have remained the same as they were before I began to practise NVC, the way I connect and experience these connections are significantly different and far more satisfying,” he said. “I have learned to apply my learning to my marriage, to my employment as a bus driver prior to my retirement, to my retirement, to family and to my own self.”

Psychologist Marshall Rosenberg developed NVC in the 1970s. In part, it was his reaction to the bullying he went through in school because of his Jewish surname. In his book Nonviolent Communication: The Language of Life, he states that bullying is a “tragic expression of unmet needs.”

Segal further explained that Rosenberg’s nine categories of needs are safety, sustenance, love, empathy, community, creativity, recreation, meaning and autonomy.

Rosenberg became famous for creating dialogue between people around the world who were involved in violent conflicts, including Israelis and Palestinians. Trainers in NVC today are continuing his work.

“While NVC teaches the use of compassionate understanding to achieve resolution of conflict, it supports the use of force in situations where there is a threat to life, where the other party is unwilling or unable to enter into conversation and presents a threat,” said Segal.

Rosenberg suggested that, in times of conflict, people respond by defending themselves, attacking the other or withdrawing from the situation, sometimes even experiencing complete collapse, explained Segal.

“Learning that emotions are rooted in previous learning and part of a complex, unconscious process in the brain and directly rooted in the degree to which needs are fulfilled, one can then respond with curiosity and reflection in place of old patterns of reaction,” he said.

Segal sees NVC as a way to practise Judaism’s emphasis on social justice and “apply many of the maxims expressed by the rabbis in Pirkei Avot [Ethics of Our Fathers],” he said.

If you have questions about NVC or are interested in Segal’s classes, you can contact him at [email protected]. Rosenberg’s books are available online and the Centre for Nonviolent Communication, which he founded, offers international training and certifies individuals as trainers: cnvc.org.

“NVC is about connecting with ourselves and others from the heart,” it says on the centre’s website. “It’s about seeing the humanity in all of us. It’s about recognizing our commonalities and differences and finding ways to make life wonderful for all of us.”

Cassandra Freeman is a freelance writer living in Vancouver.

Improv conference held here

Viola Spolin is widely thought to be the mother of modern improvisation. (photo from amazon.ca)

If you thought that improv was only for entertainment, think again. This summer’s applied improvisation conference at Granville Island will showcase some of the world’s best applied improvisation coaches, trainers and facilitators.

The conference will be hosted by the Applied Improvisation Network in partnership with the Improv Centre, formerly Vancouver Theatresports.

Avril Orloff is one of four Jewish community members on the Vancouver conference planning committee. She told the Independent that there will be more than 30 workshops offered, from improv in education and health care to using it to navigate difficult conversations, increase confidence, build community and address humanitarian issues.

“The hard part will be choosing among all the great offers,” she said.

Conference dates are July 27-30, with July 25-26 called “Learning Journeys” before the conference proper, where people can sign up to do a deep dive into particular topics for a half or full day.

“Another highlight is the Open Space sessions on the final day, which is a marketplace of ideas where anyone can offer a workshop on any topic they’re particularly interested in,” said Orloff. “Open Space is a great lab for people who want to test out new ideas, processes and games, or put out an ask to anyone who’s willing to answer.”

Orloff dived into applied improv in 2022 and fell in love with it.

“The weekly classes and open space sessions were a bright spot in my life during the pandemic,” she said. “They expanded my outlook beyond the confines of the immediate moment and made me feel connected during a time of isolation.”

Since then, she has used applied improv techniques more and more in her work as a facilitator, starting with the online “connection cafés” she hosted during the pandemic, and now in person.

Avi Dolgin is another community member on the planning committee. He said they are expecting 200 delegates with a dozen or so who are local but the majority from elsewhere in Canada, as well as from the United States, Europe and Asia.

Dolgin sees improv as a profound way of unlocking human potential. Now retired, he uses improvisation to teach Bibliodrama at Or Shalom.

“In my life, an improvisation mindset encourages me to greater spontaneity, unexpected creativity and a greater willingness to help others in their ideas,” he said.

Carol Ann Fried, an inspirational speaker and consultant who lives in Vancouver, is also on the conference committee. She is presenting an applied improv workshop alongside Sarah Fisk and Matt Weinstein.

“Now that many people – but not all – are meeting again in person, the need to conduct ‘hybrid meetings,’ where some are in person and others are online, has arisen,” she said. “This split format is difficult, in part because it is hard for people to interact with each other. Our session attempts to address this issue with specific structures and activities to engage people in a hybrid setting, that are based in the values of improv, and that can be used in any work context.”

Well-known improviser Colin Mochrie will be one of the keynote speakers at the conference. Mochrie is most famous for appearing in the television show Whose Line Is It Anyway for the last 30 years.

Jewish community member David Diamond is the other keynote speaker. He will be giving a demonstration of Theatre for Living, with three audience members. Based on Augusto Boal’s Theatre of the Oppressed and Diamond’s lifelong interest in physics, Theatre for Living uses improvisation to create scenes that stimulate community dialogue and calls for change, in particular cross-sectoral understanding.

Applied Improvisation Network (AIN) was created in 2002 to bring together professionals with a keen interest in the study, practice and teaching of applied improvisation. Initially, a group of 30 or so improvisers gathered for the first conference in San Diego. Today, AIN is a global community of more than 8,000 participants online and across numerous regional and local groups.

Ed Reggi is AIN’s president and another member of the Jewish community. Reggi, who lives in St. Louis, Mo., told the Independent that there has always been a Jewish presence in the organization, from its founding to the present day.

Reggi said he takes his inspiration from Viola Spolin (1906-1994), who is widely thought to be the mother of modern improvisation. Spolin was the daughter of Jewish immigrants from Ukraine. Spolin’s father, Make Mills, had escaped pogroms in Ukraine to come to the United States. Her grandfather stayed in Ukraine and died at the hands of Stalin’s troops after the Soviets took his farm.

Much of Spolin’s work and success comes from her body of experience around recreational play. She studied under Neva Boyd, who was a sociologist, and documented recreational games, dance and activities that came over from Europe, Reggi said.

“Of course, Viola’s son, Paul Sills, watched his mother developing her Theatre Games and he took them over to the University of Chicago, where he worked with Mike Nichols, Elaine May, Ed Asner, Alan Alda and Avery Schreiber and so many more.”

Sills went on to create the Second City in Chicago, now North America’s oldest improvisation theatre institution, where Saturday Night Live stars Gilda Radner, John Belushi, John Candy, John Belushi, Dan Aykroyd, Eugene Levy and Catherine O’Hara made their debuts.

Reggi is excited about attending the conference here in July.

“I think, because this conference is happening in Vancouver, I expect more Jewish presence. Last year, we were in Ávila, Spain, after two years of being halted by the pandemic. I am thrilled to be coming back together in person again.”

For more information about the conference, go to appliedimprovisationnetwork.org/vancouver-conference-2023.

Cassandra Freeman is a freelance writer living in Vancouver.

Creating a new home

Khalid Aziz (photo from Khalid Aziz)

Khalid Aziz got out of Afghanistan about six weeks before the government fell. Eighteen months later, he has a job here at a local café/bakery and works part-time with a local advisory group on refugees called Diverse City. In his spare time, he volunteers with Jewish Family Services, who he considers family, and attends JFS events.

“Khalid is amazing. He just lights up the room when he walks in,” said Emi Do, former supervisor of the Community Kitchen.

Recently, Aziz planned and led a JFS Community Kitchen event, where he taught participants to cook Afghan dumplings.

“It’s all about community building, celebrating and sharing skills and knowledge about food,” said Stacy Friedman, director of food security at JFS, about Community Kitchen events, where people meet and cook together. She hopes the program will pick up again later this spring.

“Khalid has a very warm presence and is a good communicator,” she said.

But how did Aziz connect with JFS in the first place?

When he was still new to Vancouver, Aziz found the JFS and Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver websites. He also heard on the news that Israel was taking in 150 to 200 Afghan refugees. That caught his attention and he wanted to find out more about the local Jewish community, so he contacted JFS and spoke to case manager Corrina Frederick. He was going through a rough time and Frederick was happy to listen to him.

“She showed so much empathy towards me … it was unbelievable,” Aziz said.

Soon after, Aziz was invited to a JFS Community Kitchen event, where he chatted with one of the other volunteers.

“While having our coffee, my friend asked me whether I was a Jew. I replied with Muslim. She was surprised and happy that I was among them, sitting next to each other in a beautiful atmosphere, with no hesitation, which was quite amazing to me,” he said.

Since then, Aziz has learned a lot about the Jewish people.

“Obviously, Judaism believes in one God. And its history is phenomenal. And what I learned and liked about the Jewish people is that they practise fasting, almsgiving and follow the dietary laws.” He also learned that Judaism uses the word kosher in the same way that Muslims use the word halal.

Aziz’s gratitude to JFS knows no bounds.

“The JFS assisted me with employment sources and invited me to their educational programs, as well as different events, to have the utmost experience in B.C. It really gives me pleasure to be a part of the Jewish Family Services, which helps others to achieve their goals and live peacefully.”

This is in stark contrast to his life in Kabul, where he received letters containing death threats from the Taliban for his work at the National Bank of Afghanistan, on U.S. embassy projects and at the United Nations, where he supervised and led 16 staff members involved in agriculture projects.

“Definitely, like many others, my life was in danger, without a doubt,” he said. And so were the lives of most of his family members, who were working with other organizations.

While most of his family are now living safely in different countries around the world, Aziz, 30, is still reeling from his experience getting here, and finding food and shelter.

To escape from Kabul, in July 2021, Aziz traveled to Pakistan to apply for a student visa in the United States. He successfully passed his interview at the U.S. embassy and was granted a visa one week before the Afghan government fell. With the help of family and friends, he traveled to the United States to live with his sister.

Due to the financial crisis in Afghanistan, his bank account was frozen. He waited five months for support from the American government. When that fell through, he decided to come to claim asylum in Canada.

It was nightfall and Aziz was able to avoid the U.S. border guards.

“Luckily, I made it to the border and entered Canada with happiness and hope for a better life and leaving all my stress and anxiety behind the crossing line,” he said.

The Canada Border Services Agency stopped him and cuffed him, but told him not to be afraid. They also told him that there was homelessness in Canada and he had better be prepared for that.

Aziz has no ill feelings towards the CBSA, saying they were kind in changing his handcuffs around so that he could have a drink of water.

Even though he had $1,000 when he reached Vancouver, all the hotels he found would only accept debit or credit cards. “After one hour of roaming and looking around for hotels, I ended up spending my night on a footpath downtown in the cold weather of February,” he said.

It was a tough month for Aziz, staying at shelters. “I wasn’t able to sleep well in my first month due to the inappropriate place, with no privacy and I was emotionally and mentally disturbed and stressed about what was going to happen next,” he said.

Aziz finally was able to rent a room and he bought job interview clothing while managing at the same time to volunteer for the Muslim Food Bank as a case worker and translator for refugees – he speaks several languages, including Pashto, Farsi, Urdu, Hindi and basic Arabic.

After about four months, Aziz found a job and, today, lives in a two-bedroom apartment with a roommate in Burnaby.

Aziz hopes to engage in more refugee-related work locally, as well as with the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees.

Cassandra Freeman is an improv teacher and performer living in Vancouver.

Overcoming diabetes

Two years ago, I was 58 years old, weighed 200 pounds and was in a wheelchair because of chronic ankle pain when my doctor told me I had diabetes. Six months later, I was 20 pounds lighter and my blood glucose level had lowered so much that I was considered pre-diabetic. This meant that diabetes was no longer harming my body.

One of the first things I did was to cut out refined sugar, honey and junk food from my diet. This was not easy, as I grew up with a mother whose idea of making you feel better was to give you food like waffles with maple syrup and Sephardi delicacies like zangoola – deep fried pastry filled with treacle – on Hanukkah. But, with the help of a dietician, I lowered the amount of carbohydrates and sugar that I ate. She said that I could have artificial sweetener in my tea, so I decided to do that.

I noticed that food tasted better when my overall diet had very little sugar added. I also made sure to have a lot of vegetables with my meals. I treated myself to a simple spinach omelette with feta cheese and tomatoes almost every week.

I ate strawberries, blueberries and cantaloupe instead of high fructose fruits like watermelon. But I made sure to cheat a bit, too, at least once a week, with a few squares of fruit-and-nut dark chocolate. Whenever I went kayaking and got a good workout for an hour-and-a-half, I rewarded myself with a small chocolate ice cream.

If I can’t see it I won’t eat it! My husband eats ice cream and I asked him to put it at the very back of the freezer so I can’t see it. He also has a special cubbyhole where he puts his snacks that are high in carbs.

I spent some time on the Diabetes Canada website and found a chart there that tells you what food to eat some of the time, what food to eat most of the time and what foods to avoid altogether, which was very helpful.

Going to restaurants is still possible. When I order salads, I always ask the server to leave the dressing on the side, since dressings are sometimes high in sugar. I also found out that all sit-down restaurants have a nutrition guide, which will tell you how many carbohydrates or sugars are in their foods.

The second thing I did was find a diabetes clinic that had a case manager and an endocrinologist that I could see for free. I can’t say how important it was to find a specialist who knew so much about the disease and was so optimistic that I could lower my blood glucose level. He gave me a blood glucose monitor for free for two weeks and, during this time, I found out which foods spiked my levels and which foods didn’t. Everyone is different.

It took about six weeks but after trying three different drugs I was finally given one I could tolerate and that I could get on special authority so I didn’t have to pay for it. My pharmacist insists that it was the drug that lowered my blood sugar level from 6.8 to 6.2 in six months. I think other factors helped, too.

I found that exercising for even 15 minutes a day made a difference in my weight. There are unlimited exercises on the internet that you can do while sitting. And if you Google “exercises for seniors,” you will find many examples.

I started swimming twice a week. Swimming increases blood flow and tones almost all of the muscles in your body. Also, I figured that during the two hours I was getting ready to swim, then swimming, then going into the whirlpool and sauna – if that didn’t take the pounds off, at least I wasn’t eating for that amount of time!

I tried five different indoor swimming pools in Vancouver and they all had lifts that take you out of your wheelchair and into the pool. It’s different at outdoor pools though. It’s best to call ahead and see if they have the equipment that’s required.

I found social media helpful, as well, especially Facebook, since there are a few different pages for people who have diabetes. It was helpful to know that I was not alone – while also being cautious, since there were people who really wanted to make money off of my condition.

Now I am 60 years old and I can walk again. I am hoping to lose more weight so that I will be able to walk pain-free. I’m still getting medical treatments and I am hopeful that I will slowly but surely get rid of my diabetic belly. Here’s to hoping!

Cassandra Freeman is a freelance writer living in Vancouver.

Opening of hearts

In this Vancouver Playback Theatre screenshot are, top row, left to right, Peter Abrams, Diandra Lee and Laen Hershler; middle row from left, Ingrid Broussillon, Joel Bronstein and Louise Lemieux; and Carol Ann Fried.

If you want to see tikkun olam in action, see the next performance of Vancouver Playback Theatre (VPT). For the last 23 years, the ensemble has been retelling audience participants’ life stories with sensitivity and compassion.

At VPT’s March 6 show, brightly coloured scarves, banners, dance, piano music and improvisation “played back” individual audience experiences of and the accompanying emotions caused by antisemitic events and other forms of discrimination.

“We really want audience members to feel seen, understood, and learn from the playback experience,” VPT’s Peter Abrams told the Jewish Independent.

Fellow Jewish community and troupe member Joel Bronstein added, “Our work takes audience members out of their heads and into their hearts … when people share their feelings and life experiences in a safe and supportive environment, there is a collective opening of our hearts, even when it is light and funny.”

Playback Theatre was created in New York 47 years ago with the intention of returning theatre to its storytelling and community-building roots. With troupes now established worldwide, Playback Theatre directly engages participants in sharing experiences and ideas related to themes of importance to them individually, and as groups, organizations and communities.

Abrams, Bronstein and Carol Ann Fried, who is also a member of the Jewish community, have all been part of the ensemble for more than two decades. Fried’s most memorable audience story involved a father talking about the love he had for his son.

“As he was speaking,” she said, “I wanted to sing a song about his love. I knew there was a Cat Stevens song called ‘Father and Son’ but I couldn’t remember the words or the melody. The only song I could think of was ‘You are the Wind Beneath My Wings,’ and I sang a few lines.”

After the show, the father told Fried that he had made a video of his son when his son was younger and the sound track was “You are the Wind Beneath My Wings.”

“That’s the magic of Playback,” said Fried. “It’s Hashem in action.”

Abrams remembers a story about a woman who found herself attracted to two men who were both interested in her, and she was wondering what to do about her pleasant dilemma.

“In the playback, myself and another male actor represented the two suitors in an old-fashioned duel that was a slow-motion dance, also using fabrics,” said Abrams. “We ended in a draw, appealing to the teller [audience participant] to decide. The teller and the audience loved it, and the teller realized she didn’t need to rush any decision, and decided just to enjoy the experience.”

There seems to be no limit as to what can be expressed in performances with VPT and what insights can be gained.

Fried said she has particularly enjoyed playing “non-literal parts.” For example, she has played a table at which two people fell in love, she has played the feelings of love and has even played internal organs. She said she has learned to trust that her creativity will emerge when invited.

Bronstein remembers when he had to play back a story about a violent character. “Although I symbolically represented the violence, when the story was finished my body was shaking intensely,” he said.

It’s not surprising that VPT works with organizations that help others, such as the Kitsilano-Fairview Mental Health team and Oxfam Canada.

“When we do a workshop for an organization or a community group, we often start with a short performance on an issue, and follow this with breakout groups where participants can dialogue on what they’ve learned and where to go from here on the issue,” Abrams said. “The groups we work with are focused on progressive social issues, so we contribute to forward movement on these issues through our workshops.”

VPT offers a variety of services, including public and conference performances, workplace conflict resolution workshops, peace-building in schools, community engagement projects, and Playback skills training, in person (when possible) and virtually (via Zoom).

Fried said she has learned a lot about the human condition through working with culturally diverse audiences. “Although our lives, cultures, religions and life experiences are different, we all value and care about the same things,” she said. “We all have the same variety of feelings. I feel connected on an internal level with each teller.”

When they aren’t together storytelling, Fried runs her own company and is a keynote speaker, workshop leader and coach; Bronstein is the executive director of Little Mountain Neighbourhood House; and Abrams runs his own organizational development consulting business.

The other members of the ensemble are Diandra Lee, Laen Hershler, Ingrid Brousillon, Louise Lemieux, Laurie Damer and Matthew Spears.

The troupe’s website is vancouverplaybacktheatre.com. Their next online public performance will be on June 26 in honour of World Refugee Day, which is June 20.

Cassandra Freeman writes stories with the support and love of her husband, Irwin Levin.

Grateful for ability to play

Six members of the 35th Street Gang, with the author second from the left in the back row. (photo from Cassandra Freeman)

Sheena and I don’t recall why we were trying to measure the house with a ball of string. We just remember me holding one end of the string, throwing the rest down from my bedroom, and her running all around the house with the rest of it till she got back to me. We were 8 years old and we were part of what we proudly called the 35th Street Gang.

At a recent reunion, 43 years later, seven of us mischievous women decided that playing was a powerful thing. It was about athletic activity, creativity, community building, trust – and simply some of the funnest times we’ve had.

Fairly early in our lives, “we seven” decided we owned the block. That’s why we called ourselves the 35th Street Gang. For some of us, a rite of initiation to the gang was to climb with hands and bare feet up to the very top of the pole and touch the signs that read 35th and Maple, then slide right back down again.

Kick the can was one of our favourite games. It was a combination of tag and hide-and-go-seek. I remember shivering with anticipation in a neighbour’s garage, hiding from the girl who was “it.” Of course, she found me before the others, and we raced down the short hill and around the corner, each of us trying to be the one who would kick the can first. I’m betting that we ran faster than we ever did in phys ed class. (Some adults still play this game I discovered, and you can search for them on meetup.com.)

Roller skates were all the rage in the early 1970s. They attached to the bottom of your sneakers with a metal key. I can still feel the vibration from the wheels going all the way through my body from the contact with the cement below. And just skating in the middle of the road wasn’t good enough for us. One of us, Louise, created a song we all sang and did the motions to while skating. It went like this: “Butterflies fly, and so do I, and I like it, so I don’t sit, I fly … so do I.”

The most daring kind of play we did was tobogganing. Daring because we slid down a severely slanted sidewalk covered with snow and ice. The year I was 8, winter was particularly cold. That did not deter us and neither did the teenage boys who threw ice balls at us on the way down. We were determined to have a good time.

We had a regular toboggan that fit three of us, a red slippery carpet, and a small round “flying saucer” one that would go round in circles as you went down. The bump we all made in the middle of the run was the most fun. We would fly off that thing so high it took a few seconds to come back down to earth again.

One time, I was sitting in the middle of the flying saucer and flew off that bump and started spinning in circles. I still remember that moment when I realized – too late – that I was going to hit the huge chestnut tree at the bottom of the run. And so I did. Thwack! My back hit that tree so hard it took all the breath out of me. Realizing a few seconds later that I was all in one piece, I got up and marched back up the hill and slid all the way down again on someone else’s toboggan.

We did all of these things running in and out of my parents’ house. As a result, all of my friends still know about all the Jewish holidays and what a kosher kitchen is. They would even march in on Passover with non-kosher-for-Passover popsicles to torment my poor older sister who was trying to keep the holiday. Today, they remember my parents, Joyce and Bernie, as being their second parents growing up. One of us, Madeleine, even says that she became a war crimes prosecutor because she learned about the Holocaust from spending so much time in our house. (See jewishindependent.ca/working-for-human-rights.)

When John Fraser became a member of Parliament, we used his election signs to build a huge maze in the Frasers’ front yard. We crawled around until our knees hurt. We had such a great time until we learned that he and his wife would be leaving for Ottawa with their three daughters. We said our sad goodbyes and waited for the time we would see them again.

Looking back, I am thankful I was involved in an old-fashioned kind of play that created lifelong friendships. Now, at our reunions, we become kids again and laugh our heads off for hours.

Cassandra Freeman is a freelance writer and teaches improv games for parties and performance.

Working for human rights

A gift of Elie Wiesel’s Night was among the forces that influenced Madeleine Schwarz’s career path.

Madeleine Schwarz is one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. Not the kind you would expect to build much of her career prosecuting or aiding in the prosecution of war criminals around the world, including the Nazi war criminal known as the “Beast of Bolzano,” who was living on Commercial Drive in Vancouver.

Now based in Toronto, working with the Refugee Board of Canada, Schwarz spoke with the Jewish Independent about a few of her accomplishments.

Raised Catholic, Schwarz was one of seven kids on the block who frequented our house in Vancouver back in the 1960s and early ’70s. Little did we know that she would soon be making history.

She told the Independent that her passion for international criminal law began when she was a teenager and learned about the genocide of the Jewish people.

My parents, Joyce and Bernie Freeman, helped her along her journey by giving her Night by Elie Wiesel, an account of his terrifying time in Auschwitz.

“Your house was very much an introduction to Judaism,” she said. “Yours was a very open, friendly Jewish family. I recall coming to your house for Shabbat dinner in my convent school uniform.”

While studying international relations at the University of British Columbia, Schwarz had a number of Chilean friends who had family members in camps under the dictator Augusto Pinochet. That was her “introduction” to contemporary war crimes and crimes against humanity.

In 1994, Schwarz graduated with her bachelor of laws at Dalhousie University. In 2003, she obtained her master of laws at the University of Ottawa, specializing in international criminal law.

Her first job involving war crimes was at the Canadian Department of Justice. From 1999 to 2005, she worked closely with RCMP officers on investigations into crimes against humanity, war crimes and genocide in Ukraine, Belarus, Italy and Rwanda.

When Italy found Michael Siefert, a former S.S. guard at a transit camp in Bolzano, guilty in absentia of 11 murders during the Holocaust, Schwarz put together the case to revoke his Canadian citizenship. She interviewed many people in Italy, including former resistance fighters who had witnessed his crimes.

“Seifert was quite a young man during the war. He was an old man during the proceedings. But he had committed horrendous crimes,” she said.

One of the documents Schwarz saw during the investigation made the Holocaust all so terribly real.

“I remember that we had an invoice confirming the transfer of a number of people to Auschwitz. That was one of the most horrific pieces of evidence I’ve ever seen.”

In 2003, as a result of her work and that of the legal teams who came afterwards, the B.C. Supreme Court ordered Siefert’s extradition and, in 2007, the Federal Court upheld a decision to strip him of his Canadian citizenship. In 2008, Siefert, aged 83, was sent back to Italy. His residence in Vancouver as a free man for more than 50 years was over.

During her time with the Department of Justice, Schwarz interviewed many victims and witnesses of war crimes. She said that, even when, after 15 minutes, she knew that she couldn’t use their story, she would sit there and listen for the whole two hours.

“When I’ve asked someone to tell me their story,” she said, “it’s incumbent on me to listen.… I might be the only person they will be able to tell their story to [in their lifetime].”

From 2006 to 2010, Schwarz lived in Tanzania, where she was one of the trial attorneys on the largest multi-accused trial for the United Nations International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda. Part of her work there was interviewing perpetrators of the genocide in the Butare prefecture.

She confided that this part of her job was very hard on her. “I remember interviewing three suspects alleged to have committed genocide in a row. I told my colleague – I need a break before I can talk to the fourth man.”

When it came to the trial, Schwarz and her team secured convictions of all six accused, including the first woman charged with ordering rape as a war crime.

“I think, as a lawyer and particularly a prosecutor, you are assessing the evidence and being critical. You have to be pretty surgical about it,” said Schwarz.

A few years later, at a UN conference, a co-presenter from Butare approached her and told her that his entire family had been wiped out by the genocide there. “And he said thank you very much for your work. And I practically burst into tears because I felt humbled that somebody would say that … it was not something I felt I should be thanked for, nor any of us should be thanked for because it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

As a commissioner looking into the killings in Les Cayes prison in Haiti during 2010, Schwarz led an international team and supervised the final report with recommendations on future prosecutions, penal reform, justice reform and police training.

Schwarz was in Kenya in 2013, working as the human rights and justice advisor to the UN Special Envoy in the Great Lakes region of Africa, a region encompassing 13 countries, including the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Rwanda, Uganda and Burundi. With a team of experts, she collaborated with myriad different organizations to create strong networks of people who would work together to promote better communication, peace and understanding in the region.

“There are so many layers that need to be addressed if you are ever going to deal with root causes of conflict, that range from ensuring people have access to clean water, food, lodging and education, to building trust and confidence among the leaders and civil society, to advocating for accountability for past crimes…. It takes a lot of time,” she said.

From 2016 to 2019, Schwarz worked as a trial lawyer and deputy team leader at the International Criminal Court in The Hague. It was there that she prepared arrest warrants for individuals alleged to have committed crimes in Libya since 2011.

Despite seeing the very worst of humanity, Schwarz still has hope for the human race. “I’ve seen some pretty horrible things,” she acknowledged. “I’ve also seen people who do tremendous things to try and make change or try and help people.”

And she had this to say about the International Criminal Court.

“I think that investigations and prosecutions of individuals for war crimes, crimes against humanity and genocide are incredibly important,” said Schwarz. “I wouldn’t necessarily say we’re always getting the complete truth and I do not think we always get it right. However, I do think we get some truth and some accountability that is important for victims, as well as for countries moving out of conflict. I think that is important. And it’s a different way of telling the story than a novelist or historian.”

Cassandra Freeman is a freelance writer living in Vancouver. During the early 1980s, she was part of the Jewish student movement that called for the extradition of Nazi war criminals living in Canada.