Byline: Shula Klinger

Creating, choosing kids’ art

A son’s fascination with diggers has led to many other farm-related and animal designs. (photo by Shula Klinger)

When our son, Joel, started to talk, most of what he said was, digger, referring to the large machines that dig earth, so I started drawing them for him. Soon, he became passionate about tractors, so I started drawing those, too – because, like you, I would bend over backwards to meet my child’s needs.

Our Joel has always known his mind. And he has always known that his mother will turn herself into a pretzel when it comes to his education. I also learned how to draw forklifts, dump trucks and specialized mining equipment: road headers, skid steers and face shovels. Essential knowledge for every pretzel-shaped mother.

After several months and hundreds of diggers later, I had a box full of cut-out vehicles. I bought colored card stock and cut out what I hoped were the last 12 diggers. I framed them in an old IKEA frame and put it in Joel’s room, intending to hang it later.

Joel had his own plans, of course. It turns out that 2-year-olds aren’t particularly worried about hanging pictures at the proper height. Instead, his picture sat on the floor where he could poke the glass, name the vehicles and chatter at length to his pictures.

Having thought of his picture as something colorful to fill a spot on his wall, I soon learned that it was a bunch of other things: a teaching aid, a prompt for language development and a favorite companion. It was a comfort, a reflection of his passions and his developing identity. And, sure, it was in his bedroom sometimes, but mainly it traveled to whichever room he was playing in. I never did hang it up.

The diggers were followed by new designs for other families, and countless hours of conversation with them about art. I learned that very young children have strong opinions about shape, color and which medium is best for their project. I learned how art appreciation plays a role in family relationships that is just as significant as the time we spend on outings or reading together. It’s spiritual time, like meditating together, or contemplating abstract ideas, from the biggest ideas to why spiders are able to climb on ceilings without falling off.

The photos I received of toddlers teaching infant siblings about their art showed me that images can be a catalyst for extraordinary reactions in even the youngest kids. I also had my mind changed about what kinds of art children wanted. When a mother asked me if I offered custom versions of my posters, I hesitated. When I realized that she wanted a copy of diggers, “but in girl colors,” I got to work.

When choosing art for our children, there is much more to the decision than meets the eye. Of course, we want the content and color scheme to appeal to our young connoisseurs. We hope that it will complement the design of the room that surrounds it. But, as we see and hear how children respond to this art, it reminds us, as parents, that our own eyes need to open as wide as theirs.

Art appreciation is a kind of literacy and it can lead to explorations of identity, of self-expression, of relationship to and with others. It can elicit feelings of pride in ownership, feelings of attachment and a sense of agency. As she looks at an image, a child’s gaze can be curious, critical, contented, peaceful, excited, inspired. A child may be solving problems, learning about the world or checking his understanding of an issue. Indeed, they have the same types of reactions as adults. Art can engage, stimulate and challenge young minds, which is why we need to take care when choosing pieces for children’s spaces.

Megan Zeni and Kelly Johnson are dedicated to creating fun, educational spaces for children. Both former teachers, their company, Room to Play, helps families make the most of their homes, to create spaces that are stimulating without being cluttered or overwhelming. “Art sets the tone in room; colors, patterns and textures can have a calming or energizing impact,” explained Zeni.

These are all elements to consider, especially as we remember that the art we’re choosing may be the last thing a child looks at as his eyes close at night. Here are some things to think about when choosing or making art for young children:

  • Children have favorite colors from a very early age.
  • What do they care about?
  • Does the art fill a wall and strike a chord?
  • Does it inspire the child to touch it, talk to it?
  • Does it spark a conversation between your child and you or a sibling?

Questions to think about and ask your child, to encourage a sense of attachment and ownership of the art, include:

  • What do you see? What do I see?
  • Which colors do you see?
  • How many…?
  • Which element is the biggest? Which is the smallest?
  • Should we frame it?
  • Where should we hang it? Should we bother?

Shula Klinger is an author, illustrator and journalist living in North Vancouver.

Baking from the soul

Marat Dreyshner in action. (photos from Ella Dreyshner)

I can tell it’s going to be delicious even before I’ve taken a bite. I’m sitting in the Richmond home of Marat and Ella Dreyshner, owners of iKosherbake. I’m holding a slice of their chocolate chip banana bread. This golden cake is dense and moist; the semi-sweet chocolate is the perfect complement to the fruity sweetness of the bananas.

It all started with bagels. “We love bread in this house,” said Ella. It’s hard to find a good, kosher bagel, but iKosherbake has crafted its own variety. “It all comes down to time,” said Marat. “How long you boil the dough…. It’s a science!”

Over the last year, iKosherbake has gone from making bagels to cakes, to granola and catering birthday parties and personalized cakes.

photo - Ella Dreyshner with bags of iKosherbake buns.
Ella Dreyshner

It’s not always easy for a husband and wife to share a kitchen, but the Dreyshners have found their groove. Marat’s specialty is their line of savory products, while Ella leads with desserts. While Marat has trained professionally, Ella’s talents have flourished at home.

Marat explained, “She’s gotten to a level that would make a professional chef happy to work with her.”

It’s hard to find a kosher fondant, so Ella makes her own – “I like to paint on the actual fondant.” She has even molded a unicorn by hand. Her other specialties include kosher ice cream sandwiches: chocolate chip cookies filled with pineapple ice cream.

Their granola tells a story of its own. While working with students at Vancouver Talmud Torah, they were challenged to create a dish that included the seven flavors of Israel. The result was a granola bar containing ingredients like honey, olive oil, pomegranate juice and raisins. It was such a hit that they took the recipe home and developed a bagged granola.

The Dreyshners describe the flavor as “the perfect ratio of sweet and salty,” which is borne out when I opened the package at home. Slightly tangy, with a smoky hint of cocoa, the texture is a satisfying blend of chewy fruit and crunchy seeds. And that salty tang really does make the taste buds tingle!

Now that their product line is growing, the Dreyshners are serving the North Shore market, as well. Queensdale Market and City Market on Lonsdale have both snapped up bagels from iKosherbake.

Organic markets are a good fit. iKosherbake uses no additives or preservatives in their cooking and, whenever possible, they purchase ingredients from local, organic growers.

For the Dreyshners, kosher cooking isn’t just about finding ingredients with the right labels. The process of making food is a spiritual experience.

photo - A unicorn custom cake. iKosherbake also makes varieties of bagels, now carried at Queensdale Market and City Market on the North Shore
A unicorn custom cake. iKosherbake also makes varieties of bagels, now carried at Queensdale Market and City Market on the North Shore.

“Cooking is an art form that wakens your soul. It’s more than just filling your stomach – it’s digested on a spiritual level, as well,” Marat suggested. He added, “There’s a pleasure in the Torah aspect of the food, but also in the traditional aspect, as well – when you have the opportunity and the good luck to share with friends, family and community, the food becomes something real.”

Ella agreed. For her, kosher baking “symbolizes peace and unity,” by following a strict, methodical process with every recipe. Separating eggs, checking flour, keeping the wet and dry ingredients apart until the right moment: “These steps create a sense of calm and unity, when you finally combine all of these things together.”

For a sneak peek into the Dreyshners’ kitchen, you can watch Marat at work on YouTube with Rabbi Yisrael Shurack in their series of witty videos. In The Rabbi and the Chef, Marat talks about how the food is made, and the rabbi picks up on the symbolic, spiritual significance of dishes. These are lessons in Judaism served at high speed with delicious menus and a side dish of kooky humor.

Shula Klinger is an author, illustrator and journalist living in North Vancouver.

A legacy of stewardship

The author in 1974 at a tree planting event organized by her father in England. (photo from Shula Klinger)

It all began with my great-grandfather, Simon Picker. In the early 20th century, the timber industry in Bukowina was booming. Before the First World War and the collapse of the Habsburg Empire, my great-grandfather supported his family by working as a carpenter. According to his gravestone, he was “an honest man who enjoyed only the fruit of his toil.”

My father was always passionate about trees. He referred to Japanese maples by the Latin name acer palmatum, and took great delight in planting trees in our backyard. Acacia, eucalyptus, willow. He loved to visit Kew Gardens and told me how he’d planted trees in Israel, in the early days of independence. When my grandfather died at our home in 1969, my father planted a magnolia tree on the spot where he fell and, although the house has gone, the tree is still there today.

When my father came to England, one of his first businesses was in public relations. For a time, he held a contract for the Forestry Commission, which was when he also started a charity called Trees for People (TFP). TFP provided trees and equipment to schools, so that children could get their hands dirty and learn what it meant to be guardians of the environment.

After he died, I realized that I did not know what had become of TFP. My father had talked about passing on the fund to a group in England, but I wasn’t sure how that had panned out.

Then, when I was clearing out his personal effects just a few weeks ago, I learned what happened. In 2005, he donated all of the remaining TFP funds to the Woodland Trust in the United Kingdom. The trust’s goal is to recreate native woodland with the help of local schools and communities. It aims to protect surviving woodland, restore areas that are damaged and advocate for those that are currently under threat.

The trust put the TFP legacy to work immediately, using it to develop a new project in southeastern England, the Fordham Hall Estate. According to Liz McLelland, woodland creation project officer for the Woodland Trust, this is “an amazing 505-acre piece of land near Colchester in Essex. It is now a beautiful landscape of woods, meadows and riverside habitat.”

As well as transforming the environment, the fund has supported the development of a new outdoor curriculum for local children, providing hundreds of children with opportunities to plant trees and be inspired by nature, McLelland said. Furthermore, it has promoted their understanding of their role, as stewards of the environment. “This type of event is now a core part of our activity whenever we buy land on which to create native woodland.”

Needless to say, I am also a tree lover. I live with my family on the North Shore, close to the forests of Lynn Canyon, where our back yard is overshadowed by giant evergreens. Last year, my husband built me a vegetable box. Our children and I planted seeds in it and waited eagerly to see what we could harvest, but before the seedlings were more than a few inches tall, I got the call.

My father died on July 2, 2014, in Cambridge, England. We traveled there for his funeral and came back at the end of the month to an overgrown tangle of leaves the size of tea trays. Benjamin, 7, took on the job of harvester, leaping into the hip-high plants to pull out a foot-long zucchini.

And now it is spring again. Last week, I cut open an apple and found that one of the seeds had already germinated inside the fruit. The children were overjoyed to see the tiny sprout, and insisted that we plant it. We check on it every day, and Joel, 4, loves to water it with his “squirty bottle.” Today, we’re going to plant Canterbury Bells, peas, pumpkins, tomatoes and carrots. And then we will walk in the forest, appreciating the giant, protective limbs of the trees and the aromatic, warm earth, as it nurtures the growth of a another new generation of plants.

Shula Klinger is a freelance writer living in North Vancouver.

Living in world with chesed

Vancouver Talmud Torah Grade 7 students and some of their family members participate in this year’s Random Acts of Chesed Race on Sept. 28. (photo from VTT RAC Race Facebook page) 

“The world will be built with chesed.” – Psalms 89:3

In 2012, the Vancouver Foundation surveyed almost 4,000 people from across Metro Vancouver. The survey asked people what kinds of relationships they had, how deeply they engaged in community life, how committed they were to maintaining ties with the world around them. One out of every four respondents said they did not feel connected to others, nor to their community. In short, they felt lonely. When Vancouver Talmud Torah students heard about this, they decided to do something about it.

On Sept. 28 this year, as part of that continuing effort, VTT’s Grade 7 students took part in a RAC (Random Acts of Chesed) Race, designed to lift the spirits of people across the city. While Random Acts of Kindness is a worldwide organization, the chesed element began at King David High School here following the death of Gabrielle Isserow, a much-loved student who was known for her extraordinary kindness. It seemed only fitting that her passing be honored with a movement that inspires kindness to others.

At this year’s RAC event, 40 students were divided into 10 teams; more than 100 family members also took part. Their challenge: to help build a sense of community and connection by performing mitzvot, actions that could happen every day but, by and large, don’t. They included carrying someone’s groceries, cleaning up garbage off the street, giving a child a stuffed animal, giving up a seat on the bus to someone who looks tired; the offer of a hug, an invitation to dance; students freely offered friendly smiles, chocolates and compliments.

As VTT teacher and director of Jewish life Shoshana Burton explained, “In this RAC Race, we wanted to restore a sense of community, enhance a sense of connection to one another with humor and generosity.”

photo - Zevi Kline with a “You’ve been RAC’d!” balloon
Zevi Kline with a “You’ve been RAC’d!” balloon. (photo from VTT RAC Race Facebook page)

Each team was given specific directions about where to go and how to get there. The teams covered Richmond Centre, Yaletown, Kerrisdale and Mount Pleasant, among other areas. Backpacks were provided containing supplies for the day, including stuffed animals, Starbucks cards and cards that read, “You’ve been RAC’d!” Instructions were given about respecting others’ personal space and, from there, the students improvised with gusto. Challenged to drop their reserve, take initiative and show a little chutzpah, they rose to the occasion.

While some RAC recipients struggled with the notion that these acts of kindness were free, others danced, hugged, smiled and made bunny ears behind the kids’ heads in photographs.

“Take what you need” posters were also stuck on lampposts. Set up like a “for sale” notice, these posters had tabs for people to rip off but, instead of information about dog-walking, babysitting or items for sale, these slips offered passersby things like peace, freedom, encouragement, love and healing.

Parent Lisa Boroditsky was thrilled with the outcome. “It was so wonderful to see the kids connecting to strangers, interacting with community and spreading kindness. After all the laughs, hugs and smiles our group received, we feel like we made a few people happier today!”

Since the RAC Race, Burton said, the students just “keep coming.” Sometimes in groups as large as 20, they want to talk about our next project, she said, describing this student group as “unstoppable.”

When asked how the RAC program fits within the VTT curriculum, Burton explained, “Chesed is not a subject we study; it is the life we live.” Moreover, RAC is not bound to the classroom, she added. “RAC Race’s lessons were taught with real-world experiences. Students were encouraged to notice genuine needs that they might have not noticed before and to be compassionate in respectful ways.”

As an example, during the Sept. 28 event, student Joshua Switzer’s team came across a homeless man in Kerrisdale who looked “really depressed,” so they gave him a Starbucks gift card.

Said student Alisa Bressler, “When I’m walking around Kerrisdale, I am usually thinking just of myself. This time was different because we were there to help other people.”

An anonymous letter to Burton read, “You’ve opened a door in our hearts welcoming kindness. You make us eager to spread kindness, and also you teach us to be good people. How can we thank you more?”

“Kids continuously seek meaning and connections,” said Burton. “When they are provided with the opportunity to search for and recognize meaningful connections, they are empowered. They ask for more. They never cease to surprise me and always exceed my expectations.”

Concluded Burton, “I love how our school is tuned into the needs of the community now. Because of technology, schools’ roles are changing. It’s not only where we go for knowledge – it’s also a place to make connections and start building a caring community outside the walls of the school. These children will go out into the world with this in mind.”

Shula Klinger is a freelance writer living in North Vancouver.

Taking the classroom to the world

Left to right are Shoshana Burton, Fred Miller and Jessie Claudio. (photo by Shula Klinger)

School curriculum can seem abstract, separate from the “real” world for which it is intended to prepare our children. What can a teacher do to bring the world into her classroom? She can take the classroom into the world.

This is what teacher Shoshana Burton, now of Richmond Jewish Day School, has been doing for many years. Random Acts of Kindness, or RAC (Random Acts of Chesed), week began at King David High School after the sudden death in 2010 of alumna Gabrielle Isserow z’l. Known for her tremendous kindness, it was an apt way to ease the students’ grief. Explained Burton, “RAC week transformed the students’ overwhelming sense of loss into a creative expression of chesed. It revealed a yearning for a network of support and action.”

The project gained momentum and the weeklong celebration of kindness has become “a yearlong process that grows every year, involving students, families and the wider Jewish community.”

photo - Random Acts of Chesed T-shirt
Random Acts of Chesed was inspired by the life of Gabrielle Isserow z’l. (photo by Shula Klinger)

Working at RJDS for the 2013-14 academic year, Burton wanted to add a new dimension to the project. She approached Richmond’s nearby Az-Zahraa Islamic Academy. It was a perfect match, as their principal explains on the school’s website, “Education goes well beyond the classroom door.”

Az-Zahraa teacher Jessie Claudio came on board with no hesitation and, over the last few months, the students have formed some powerful new connections. According to Burton, “We had to pull RJDS and AZIA students away from each other when it was time to go back to school!”

The new program was named Abraham’s Tent because the prophet Abraham – revered in both Islam and Judaism – was known for his generous hospitality.

In February of this year, Burton and Claudio took their students on an unusual field trip: to the centre of the Downtown Eastside, to Main and Hastings. There, they spent five days delivering sandwiches they had made, with food donated by Save-On-Foods at Ironwood, Richmond. They also handed out warm clothes.

According to RJDS parent Kathy Rabinovitch-Marliss, this trip challenged the students to leave their comfort zone and set aside any apprehensions or thoughts of judgment. She counseled her daughter, Hannah, to remember that every homeless man is “someone’s father, or someone’s son.”

Among the recipients of the group’s kindness was Fred Miller, 58, caught by a CBC camera as he observed, “If Muslim and Jewish kids can live together, why can’t the rest of the world live together?”

These words inspired the RAC students to find out more. With the help of CBC, they managed to find Miller downtown. They invited him to speak at RJDS, which ended with a massive group hug. On the RJDS blog, principal Abba Brodt describes Miller’s “unflinching” honesty as he answered the students’ questions with stories from his life. Having struggled with addiction for many years, Miller’s experiences made a change from the usual Grade 7 fare, such as The Outsiders. Brodt said the discussion covered, “spiritual strength, faith, addiction, poverty, broken family bonds and deep loneliness.” The students were “spellbound,” he added.

Abraham’s Tent gained recognition with a $3,000 award in a worldwide competition hosted by Random Acts, a nonprofit whose goal is to inspire acts of kindness. But it’s not just about the prize, of course. Claudio and Burton agree that the learning outcomes here go far beyond the regular curriculum. Said Claudio, it has been an excellent opportunity to “bring the textbook to life.” The best way to learn something, she said, is through the emotions.

And, when the students start to form their own opinions about the Jewish-Muslim conflict, Burton hopes that these friendships will remind them to be “tolerant and open-minded.”

Rather than keeping the $3,000 award for their own schools, the RJDS and Az-Zahraa students chose to give the money to Covenant House in Vancouver, a shelter for at-risk youth.

Mohamed A. Dewji, vice-president of the Az-Zahraa Islamic Centre, challenged British Columbia’s Shia Muslim community to match the $3,000 award – and they came through. Dewji hopes to spur other communities into action. “We’re challenging every church, every mosque, every temple to join us,” he said.

photo - Holding the cheques are Mohamed Dewji, vice-president of the Az-Zahraa Islamic Centre, and Jessica Harman, development officer at Covenant House
Holding the cheques are Mohamed Dewji, vice-president of the Az-Zahraa Islamic Centre, and Jessica Harman, development officer at Covenant House. (photo by Shula Klinger)

On Friday, June 7, the student group delivered both $3,000 cheques to Covenant House. They also brought boxes of shoes for the residents. George Clarke, manager of Save-On-Foods at Ironwood, Richmond, brought a gift basket packed with necessities for Miller. The atmosphere was jubilant. Jessica Harman, development officer at Covenant House, described her contact with the RAC students as “marvelous.” She added that their donations “are providing love and support to one youth in the crisis shelter for the entire month of June.”

A soft-spoken and articulate man, Miller told the Independent, “It doesn’t end here. I want to work with youth now.” Having already published a set of his stories, he is honing his craft in a journalism class.

Ruby Ravvin, a Grade 7 RJDS student, described Miller as “awesome!” He then ruffled her hair.

The students have created a binder full of cards to help brighten Miller’s day when he feels lonely. In a letter, Breanne Miller (RJDS, Grade 7, no relation to Fred Miller) speaks of inspiration, wisdom and not taking the good things in life for granted. “You have opened my eyes,” she wrote. “You inspired all of us.”

Prior to her involvement in RAC, student Hannah Marliss had never had a conversation with a homeless person, nor did she have any close Muslim friends. Now, she said, “We’re hoping to invite the Az-Zahraa students to our grad. We’ve started something together!”

She described the change she has experienced in her own life. “Life’s not about technology, iPads and iPhones. They’re just things,” she said. “It’s about family, people you have connections with.”

On a scale of one to 10, the RAC experience was “definitely a 10,” said Hannah. Her mother agreed: “This was the highlight of Hannah’s elementary school life. It has changed all of our lives,” said Rabinovitch-Marliss.

Omid Gha, a counselor at Az-Zahraa, summed up the experience with a quote from Aristotle: “Educating the mind without educating the heart is no education at all.”

Shula Klinger is a freelance writer living in North Vancouver.

Anne Frank exhibit at VHEC till July 31

The Frank family on the Merwedeplein, May 1941.  (photo from AFF BASEL, CH / AFS AMSTERDAM, NL)

Since her diary was first published in 1947, Anne Frank’s story has reached many millions of readers. Her precocious wisdom, her courage and her unswerving faith in the goodness of humanity are humbling. Many young readers encounter Anne’s work at school, as an introduction to their study of the Holocaust. Readers find a focus for their curiosity, grief and raw outrage in the fate of Anne and her family. But how do we ensure that this history truly is for “today”? And how do we help them make sense of a troubled world that has descended into horrifying chaos? These harsh lessons are currently being explored through Anne Frank – A History for Today, currently housed at the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre.

According to Nina Krieger, VHEC’s executive director, this exhibit has seen “unprecedented numbers” of visitors – of all ages and ethnic backgrounds – at the centre’s Sunday openings. There are visitors during the week, of course, as well as school groups who tour the exhibit under the guidance of the centre’s docents. In addition to the training docents receive from VHEC education director Adara Goldberg, this exhibit has been guided by the exhibit’s Amsterdam staff, who traveled to Vancouver to offer their support.

On May 29, the JI accompanied Grade 6 and 7 students from King’s School in Langley as they toured the exhibit with docent Lise Kirchner. Described by their teacher Peter Langbroek as “cogent, clear and informative,” Kirchner moved swiftly between the display boards. Pausing frequently to ask questions, she encouraged the students at every step, reinforcing and building on their answers. What are these children wearing? asked Kirchner, referring to an image of Hitler Youth in uniform. Why did the children have to join this organization? One student replied astutely, “Because they are the next generation.”

The class group also included school parents, who were clearly invested in the day’s lessons. The presence of parents is extremely important, Langbroek explained, because students often need to talk through their reactions later on, not just in class or during the ride home. “It helps to have a facilitator at the dinner table,” he said. This was evident in the comments heard around the display cases, as mothers discussed their own questions. “Would you put your own family at risk?” one mom asked.

In line with the policy of Holocaust education centres worldwide, VHEC recommends their exhibits for children of 10 and up. According to Krieger, “Grade 5 is standard practice for Yad Vashem and the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Centre; our community bases its offerings on best pedagogical practice and current research.”

photo - The movable bookcase entrance to the secret annex
The movable bookcase entrance to the secret annex. (photo from Photos Anne Frank House, 2010. Copyright Anne Frank House, photographer Cris Toala Olivares)

When asked about his reasons for bringing his students to the exhibition, Langbroek explained that this is his 27th year in the classroom, and his reasons for doing so were spiritual – his is a Christian school – and personal, as well as professional.

“There are so many life lessons taught in this history,” he said. “By informing youth of this history and showing how bullying is a small-scale version of state-sponsored brutality, we can help train them in God’s righteousness.”

Raised by Dutch parents, Langbroek’s mother saw Jews being arrested and taken away in trucks; two of his uncles took Jews into their homes. An avid reader of Chaim Potok’s work, Langbroek has long been fascinated by “the pockmarked history of pogroms, exiles and forced conversions that took place in the Christian era.” He said he struggles with the atrocities committed in the name of a savior who set himself “the highest moral standard.” He added, “To me, it would only be natural for a Christian to risk his life to hide Jews.”

As well as the photographs and information on the boards, the exhibition room at the VHEC includes a 3-D model of the building and annex where the Franks were hidden. The students were clearly interested in the model and there was much crowding around, leaning in and craning of necks. Here, Kirchner honed in on the Franks’ living conditions, supported by a few trusted friends with shared food rations and occasional treats, like magazines. How do you occupy yourself when you are stuck inside for two years? she asked the students to consider. What about during the Allied bombing raids? Everyone else was hiding underground, in shelters, while Anne was in an attic at the top of a tall building. She couldn’t go down and risk being caught, noted Kirchner, but there were bombs landing all around them.

The exhibition also includes five glass cases housing original artifacts, saved by local Holocaust survivors. These items are particularly valuable, said Krieger. “A document is an eyewitness to the time.”

In a recent article for VHEC’s newsletter, Zachor, Kirchner talks about these donations from local survivors. She says that they help students to develop a personal relationship with Holocaust history. For example, in one case, students are able to see the yellow star worn by Inge Manes before she was hidden in a convent and confirmed as a Catholic. In another case, there is a medal showing that her rescuer was honored by Yad Vashem for bravery. The personal connections formed during these visits are an education that lasts a lifetime. Krieger refers to this as an “ongoing resonance.”

The King’s School students clearly appreciated the artifacts. They were given copies of an identity document belonging to Regina Bulvik. Asked to interpret the information it carried, they learned that she was the sole survivor of the Holocaust in her family, and had traveled to Canada alone, with no papers. At that time, she was still a teenager and was required to have a Jewish sponsor family here before being allowed to immigrate. The students pored over this document, scrutinizing it carefully as they responded to Kirchner’s questions.

photo - nne’s room. After the Frank family took up residence in the secret annex, Anne pasted all sorts of magazine clippings and postcards on the walls of her room
Anne’s room. After the Frank family took up residence in the secret annex, Anne pasted all sorts of magazine clippings and postcards on the walls of her room. (photo from Photos Anne Frank House, 2010. Copyright Anne Frank House, photographer Cris Toala Olivares)

On returning to school, the students’ comments about the exhibit were telling. They spoke about justice, love and kindness. They showed gratitude for their freedoms and their desire to live well with God.

Vanessa contemplated the inner life of the Franks, who “probably felt guilty because their Jewish friends and family were sent to concentration camps while they were hiding and getting help.”

Added Hannah, “I would always wonder, Are my Jewish friends in a labor camp right now or even dead? And what would it be like if I was not a Jew and just a regular German?”

Caleb imagined being in the annex, being afraid to “step on a creaky floor board.” Megan said she’d miss “feeling the sunlight on my back.”

For these students, the exhibition is about prejudice and intolerance. It’s about standing up for – rather than judging or bullying – those we perceive to be different than ourselves. It’s about suffering through harsh lessons and still making dignified, compassionate choices.

Anne Frank – A History for Today is at the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre, 50-950 West 41st Ave., until July 31, Mon-Thurs, 9 a.m.-5 p.m., and Fri, 9 a.m.-4 p.m.

Shula Klinger is a freelance writer living in North Vancouver.

Researching family history is deeply rewarding

The author’s grandfather, Solomon/Zalman (later, Bernard), is at top right.

I have been researching my family history for some years now. Usually, over the winter break, when life slows down to a dull roar and I can spend time at the computer. I pore over JewishGen for hours, entering names of people and places into search engines. The same searches over and over, hoping that databases will have been updated; that something in my mind will click; that I will finally reach the right person; that the right person will still be alive – that someone will be able to tell me what happened to the women in that photo. The photo from Vienna. The photo of the family that could have been. That should have been. These four brothers and two sisters. The brothers who escaped. The women who did not, and perished. Where? How? The women whose stories have never been told. Or maybe they were told to someone in the United States, Argentina, Scotland or Mexico – but not to me.

In recent months, I have started to ask new questions. These new questions are concerned, as ever, with the people in the photo. But they are also about my own motivation. Why do I feel compelled to keep searching? Why do some people live by the adage that it’s all water under the bridge, while others steadfastly paddle upstream? Would it not be easier to drift with the currents of time, away from our family’s past and just meander, uncomplaining, toward the future?

People used to tell me that true self-knowledge only comes to us when we have children of our own and are challenged daily, hourly, to face ourselves. We find out if we have truly stuck to the resolutions of childhood. You know, the resolution that we’d do things differently, be more engaged, more sensitive, empathic, less busy, more patient – that we’d truly remember what it was like to be a child.

Sure enough, since my first searches brought me in touch with my many cousins, I have had children of my own. I watch our older child leaving behind his early childhood, becoming more and more aware of our small family unit. I hear his wistful questions during each year’s big festivals and explain that our family is scattered across the world. I set up Skype for him to speak to relatives on other continents. His curiosity, persistence and intellect are bound to lead to more searching questions, questions about who we are and where we came from. And since he is already attached to his Jewish roots in our household of mixed traditions, I know that I’ll need to get my story straight soon enough. I know this because it is already beginning. Perhaps this is why I search, I wonder? So I can look him in the eye and know that I don’t have to fudge it?

But then I realize that my motivation comes from a more complex place than one where i’s are dotted and t’s are crossed. It’s not just about information; it’s about education.

There is certainly no education quite like motherhood. Children are such dogged teachers. Their curriculum may seem haphazard at times, their lesson planning a little sketchy, but when I take a step back – a really big step back – I find that what they are teaching me has as much to do with my ancestors as the two little chaps asking me to help them finish a puzzle, reassemble a broken toy or read a particularly difficult word.

Researching one’s family history is a gesture as deeply spiritually maternal as the act of raising one’s own children. Yes, there is a visceral desire shared by all humans to know where we come from and who we are, but there is an added layer of compassion, of love, of nurturing that comes when the people we love are gone.

Researching one’s family history is a gesture as deeply spiritually maternal as the act of raising one’s own children. Yes, there is a visceral desire shared by all humans to know where we come from and who we are, but there is an added layer of compassion, of love, of nurturing that comes when the people we love are gone. And not only are they gone, they left us too soon and in a manner so horrific that time and again, the adjective I hear from survivors’ children and grandchildren is “secretive.” So often, people simply don’t want to talk. They don’t want to share their stories because that would mean choosing to relive the horror, to tell tales that are replayed in dreams over and over again. The ones that wake them up at night and destroy the possibility of sleep for hours to come.

Those of us who grew up in the safety of this part of the world, we who are too young to have been witnesses to these crimes against humanity, we are aware of our good fortune. We know how lucky we are to have grown up in peacetime and, yet, we can feel somehow diminished by our lack of suffering. At the same time, and as we become parents ourselves, we dream of extending our parental love back through time to embrace and soothe the wounds inflicted on our forebears. We recall those who died in infancy or childhood. Having expanded our capacity for love, our fluency in that subtle language, we want to communicate absolute safety to that vulnerable child, the terrified adult unable to keep her children safe. We are challenged by the desire to reach out to our tormented and murdered ancestors, adults and children alike, to lift them out far beyond the atrocities and into the warmth of our own homes, our present, a safe and comfortable existence that they never knew.

And yet, unable to do so, we do what we can. We learn their names and we express our empathy and our sorrow by inscribing them and their stories in Word documents late at night while our children sleep, so that tomorrow, when they wake up, their parents can let them know, as they do every single day, that they are loved, that their world is safe and that, as small as it is, the human heart embraces the whole wide world.

Shula Klinger is an author-illustrator in North Vancouver, B.C. Her young adult novel, The Kingdom of Strange, was published in 2008 by Marshall Cavendish.