Category: Opinion

A better future possible

This feels like a turning point. Few people who observe international affairs, especially in the Middle East, would doubt that the conclusion of the two-year-long war means a significant change in the dynamics of the region.

It is an understatement to say that wars cause upheaval. The result of any war is always catastrophic death and destruction. But wars also, by definition, upend status quos. 

The First World War decisively ended the age of empires. The Second World War ushered in, among much else, a new world order including the concept of universal human rights. 

Every war, among its other consequences, is like throwing a deck of cards in the air. What emerges in the aftermath is to some extent beyond the control of any of the belligerents, including the victors (such as there are ever true victors in war). 

In Israeli history, it has sometimes seemed as though a war ends and things return to the status quo ante. Israeli-Arab wars have ended before with little or no decisive change in the broader context of conflict. New wars, sadly, have always erupted. Perhaps the end of the Gaza war will usher in a time of changed dynamics or maybe the region will revert to its perpetual bottom line of Zionists-versus-anti-Zionists and little will change. The eight-decade battle over Israel’s right to exist is unlikely to be conclusively settled, whether or not the current ceasefire holds.

This feels different, though, in many ways. 

The global engagement with this particular conflict – the diplomatic condemnations, the isolation of Israel, the worldwide street protests, the systematic boycotts of Israelis and Jews, the raging antisemitism that paralleled it – set this war apart from others of the past. One thing almost all Jews are probably watching closely is whether the easing of military tensions in the Middle East leads to an easing of antisemitic tensions worldwide. Many of us hold our breath awaiting that verdict.

The US administration plays a distinct wild card. It helped broker the ceasefire, but also has floated some provocative ideas of how to rebuild Gaza.

The talk about rebuilding Gaza, to which some European powers have committed and to which Arab states have given at least lip-service, is a physical necessity. As formidable as that reconstruction process will be, a moral and political rebuilding will be far more daunting. “De-Hamas-ification,” to update a term from a previous war, is a stated objective of Israel and its supporters. But, as some commentators have noted, Hamas may be as much a symptom of an extremist intolerance in elements of Palestinian society as a cause. This is likely particularly true without broad and sustained supports for Palestinian voices and aspirations that are anti-authoritarian or desiring of coexistence or peace with Israel. Militaries can be defeated perhaps more easily than some of the tenacious ideas that they represent. 

Additionally, it will be fascinating to see whether the world, having made Gaza the almost singular focus of international affairs for the past two years, will now take any responsibility for ensuring the safety and prosperity of the Palestinian people, or whether we will collectively abandon them again until the next catastrophe reawakens our sense of humanitarianism.

Despite the Madison Avenue mantra, “new” does not always mean “improved.” Sometimes, things can change for the worse. But this does seem like a moment of opportunity. 

On the one hand, it has become clear that “From the river to the sea …” is not a practical strategy. On the other, for those who seek peace, we have understood that we are not powerless witnesses to history. Each of us, in our way, has influence. Many erstwhile apolitical people have been motivated to action, to engage in dialogue across social and political boundaries, and to be part of the efforts to bring about a better life for all sides.

Now that the immediate war is over, we should hope coming together is possible among those of differing perspectives to advance a future of mutual benefit. What we do now, as individuals, as countries, as Jews, as humans, and in whatever context we act and whatever forms our actions take, can have a powerful impact on what happens next. 

Time to include

More than one in four Canadians aged 15 and older, about 27% of the population, are living with a disability, according to the latest data from Statistics Canada. That’s an increase from 22% in 2017, and the numbers are expected to continue rising as our population ages and mental health challenges become more prevalent.

This isn’t just a statistic. It’s a reality for more than eight million people. Yet, despite these numbers, many of us in the disability community still find ourselves on the margins of Canadian society – overlooked, underestimated and too-often excluded.

I am neurodiverse. I have a cognitive disability, and I am a self-advocate for the disability community. I speak from experience and from the heart because I know what it feels like to be left out.

One of my earliest and most painful memories happened nearly 30 years ago, but it still lingers. In elementary school, there was a class camping trip I’d looked forward to for weeks. I stayed up all night baking chocolate chip cookies to share with my tentmates. But, when I got to school, I learned no one wanted to share a tent with me. That night, I slept alone in a tent that flooded during a rainstorm. I was soaked, cold and humiliated.

It wasn’t an isolated experience. I remember birthdays where I was the only classmate not invited, weekends without playdates, and watching other kids plan sleepovers I was never part of. These moments left marks, not just as a child, but as an adult working to change things for others.

I share these stories not to seek sympathy, but to urge action, because these experiences are still happening. Many of us with disabilities face uncomfortable, unkind or dismissive attitudes simply because we are different.

While some people make a sincere effort to be open-minded and inclusive, others respond to our presence with unease or judgment. We are frequently excluded from mainstream media, social spaces and cultural narratives. When we are represented, it’s often through inaccurate, stereotypical or tokenizing portrayals. This must change.

We need a cultural shift in how Canada understands, engages with and includes people with disabilities. That starts with honest conversations and with listening. Are you assuming what we need instead of asking? Are you speaking for us rather than with us?

There’s a powerful phrase within the disability rights movement: “Nothing about us without us.” It means decisions that affect our lives must include our voices. That should be the standard in education, policy, health care, the arts, employment, everywhere.

The next time you interact with someone who is different, pause. Consider your assumptions. Choose empathy, choose respect and choose inclusion.

Remember: more than a quarter of Canadians have a disability. We are your neighbours, your co-workers, your classmates and your friends. We are part of Canadian culture. We belong. 

Alison Klein is a self-advocate.

Add Jewish joy to the mix

In Grade 9, the English teacher rotates table placements monthly because sitting with different students helps expose everyone to new worldviews. In general, this makes sense; discussions about literature require us to hear lots of opinions. This was also where, last week, my kid got exposed to a view that our household could have done without.

I didn’t know about the rotating seating until one night at dinner, when my kid asked if I knew of a short video that I could recommend. He needed to explain to a classmate that “all Jews are rich” was an antisemitic stereotype. Both parents stalled for a moment as we sought more information.

It turns out that other tablemates shut down this classmate immediately. They told her to be quiet and do her schoolwork. Let’s call the student Anna. These other female classmates’ backgrounds were Filipina and African Muslim. While grateful, my kid can’t wait until the seat assignments will be changed. He believed that Anna got her information about the Gaza war and Jews from TikTok and that maybe fighting this misinformation with facts, using shortform videos, would help.

When pressed, we learned my kid didn’t have a social media connection with Anna for forwarding information, nor did we think she would watch the video. After all, Anna’s grandmother was Palestinian and liked Jews, saying we were cousins. We parents concluded that someone in Anna’s life or online introduced hateful stereotypes to her. That’s what she believed – not her grandmother.

My husband retold the story of when his family was forced to couch surf. They were homeless for a year. My father-in-law, a young architect without financial backing, sold their family home to fund future work, including their new, half-built house. When the bank lost the deposited cheque from the house sale, they had nowhere to go. My husband, a kindergartener, his toddler brother and his mother spent the year at his grandparents’ New York Lower East Side apartment. My father-in-law had to stay with his parents in New Jersey. When the awful lost cheque episode resolved, they finally moved into their half-built house. They washed their dishes at the only faucet – in the bathtub. My husband could have gone on: his grandfather, raised in Mezrich, Poland, lived in a home that they shared with their cow for winter warmth and financial security. His great-grandmother had 13 children. This included three sets of twins, but none of the twins survived.

Our son said he didn’t want to share any family information. Our truths didn’t matter to Anna, he thought. He didn’t want this kid spouting hate to think he cared or even discussed this with his family. He wanted her to think her prejudice hadn’t affected him. He felt, aside from showing a video to counteract it, he’d get nowhere in explaining how she’d upset him.

This reaction correlates to a JTA article by Ilana Horwitz, a Tulane University professor. Noting that her Jewish studies students didn’t choose topics concerning antisemitism or Israel, she asked why. Her students are constantly facing antisemitism outside her classroom online and in person. Their anxiety about “saying the wrong thing” when it comes to Israel means that they don’t want any more discussions or pressure than they already face. Exhausted, they come to her class to find ways to deepen and strengthen their Jewish knowledge and history and find “Jewish joy.” They want “to remember what we’re fighting for.”

My child’s experiences echo some of the code-switching I did as a teenager in Virginia more than 35 years ago. As an adult, I realized that my Jewish identity, practice and ideals were carefully separated and toned down when we were a small minority amid Christian Southerners who were perhaps ignorant at best when it came to treating Jews as equals. Not much has changed, although, in Winnipeg, the majority culture is coded as secular Christian rather than religious, and there are many more Muslims, Hindus, Sikhs and other religious traditions around.

I recently attended a Jewish-Christian interfaith event on the 60th anniversary of Nostra Aetate, when the Pope decreed that the Catholic Church should guard against antisemitism and that Jews hadn’t killed Jesus. The event’s planners had great intentions. The speakers were good. Rabbi Lisa Grushcow (PhD) and Dr. Murray Watson, a Catholic theologian, brought thoughtful, intellectual views on the subject. They didn’t shy away from much-needed dialogue as a bulwark against rising hate. Unfortunately, the event moderation left something to be desired. The well-intentioned Catholic senior citizens, who rose during the Q&A to speak, didn’t have critical questions. Instead, they wanted to “testify” about the “great Jewish boss” they’d had or seek reassurance that it was OK to disagree with the nice “quite Orthodox Jewish couple” in their senior living facility when it came to the West Bank/Judea and Samaria. I couldn’t help myself. Leaning over to a Jewish friend, I whispered that it’s good there are these amazing Jewish examples mentioned, because of what it suggested about the rest of us “no-goodniks”!

After several awkward moments, I felt relieved when the event ended. As a small minority in Canada, we need allies and connections. We cannot afford to give up on building bridges with others. First, we might make deep friendships and gain positive community, but also, with rising hate, it’s important to have allies (like those school tablemates) who stand up and tell haters to stop when they spout prejudice.

That said, this work to counter antisemitism isn’t solely our problem. Perhaps my teen and those students at Tulane are right. We should devote more energy to our Jewish joy, culture and history. Let’s embrace all the good, rich parts of our identities and re-invest in our learning and celebration. My kid, and most of his tablemates, didn’t want to give hateful stereotypes any airtime. In this instance, he was probably right. Lots has changed since I dealt with this in high school. I was often forced to give all the explanations and information about Jews, since I was the only Jew there. Then, afterwards, there was Jew-hate spewed towards me anyway.

What’s changed is our understanding of what causes criminal behaviour. We now recognize that a short skirt doesn’t cause sexual assault. Nothing we do specifically, as Jewish individuals, brings on this hate. Nothing the modern state of Israel or individual Jews do created this ancient hatred. It’s not our behaviour or fault. We don’t have to own this or fight this alone. Antisemitism is an old symptom of a much more invasive disease of ignorance and hate.

The solutions are complicated. Meanwhile, let’s consider shutting down these biases when they pop up, just as they did in my kid’s Grade 9 class. Let’s offer some Jewish joy to the mix – and let’s also remind one another that it’s not all on us. What causes antisemitism? Antisemites. 

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.  

From the archives … editorials

Almost every year that the Jewish Independent has entered the American Jewish Press Association’s Simon Rockower Awards for Excellence in Jewish Journalism competition, the paper has been recognized for its editorials. We have won for other articles, too, in several different categories, but have taken away the most honours for our editorials. This year, for instance, we took first and second place! (See jewishindependent.ca/ji-editorials-win-twice.)

The JI’s editorial board, Pat Johnson, Basya Laye and I, don’t always agree initially on what the editorial’s stance will be. Our back-and-forths, exchanging our different views and coming to a consensus, is one of my favourite parts of running the paper. It’s a key reason, I believe, that the editorials have been so award-winning.

Another reason is that the three of us have read and worked on the Jewish Independent for so many years, and we’ve been part of this community for so many years. We are grateful for those on whose shoulders we stand. The wisdom of previous generations, and that of our own generation, inspires how we look at what’s happening here and elsewhere in the world.

As I looked through the JI archives, I came across the first editorial I wrote for the paper, when it was still called the Jewish Western Bulletin, and before Pat, Basya and I became a team. I also clipped out just some of the thousands of editorials that have been written over the years. There are so many recurring themes, including communal and democratic responsibilities and the importance of free speech. The editorials variously try to calm, cajole, educate or empower readers. 

image - April 13, 1945, editorial in JWB
April 13, 1945: The paper’s editorials were brought under community review. Associate editor Goodman Florence describes the meeting that took place and comes to the conclusion that, “He who aspires to express himself must expect to receive both ‘bouquets and brick-bats’ – and if he is intelligent he will use them both.”
image - Oct. 26, 1973, editorial in JWB
Oct. 26, 1973: Jewish Western Bulletin editor Sam Kaplan calls out community members who’ve not contributed funds to Israel in the wake of the Yom Kippur War. The editorial floats the idea of publishing a list of these “Missing Jews of Silence.”
Feb. 6, 1998, editorial in the JWB
Feb. 6, 1998: My first editorial for the paper argued for limited  regulation of the internet, concluding that state censorship is more dangerous than free speech, including hate speech.

Antisemitism a problem

The overwhelming joy of seeing the remaining hostages reunited with their loved ones, and Israelis and Jews heaving a sigh of relief after two excruciating years, is tempered with the sadness of all that was lost on and since Oct. 7, 2023. The entirely reasonable fear, also, is that this eight-decade conflict is not over. With the days-old ceasefire already fraying, it is not clear that even the immediate conflict is decisively ended.

For Jews in the diaspora, the past two years have seen two related but distinct conflicts. The war in the Middle East, with the fate of the hostages as well as the loss of Palestinian and Israeli lives, has been a constant source of pain. The paroxysm of antisemitism worldwide has been a parallel phenomenon.

We are careful to note that the phenomenon of antisemitism is parallel to the war in Gaza, not caused by it. The blame for antisemitism must always be placed where it belongs – on antisemites. To justify it as being a consequence of international affairs is to excuse the perpetrators and avoid the problem. Even so, it is naïve to ignore the parallel – for decades, every time violence flares between Israelis and Palestinians, trouble increases for Jews worldwide.

Assuming that the war is over, we will see whether the antisemitism we have witnessed and experienced – the violence against Jews, the attacks on Jewish institutions, the loss of jobs, the end of friendships, the graffiti, vandalism, and tsunami of online and verbal hatred and conspiratorial speculation (and even unintended offence) – abate. Even if it does subside, the underlying issue remains. Antisemitism in Canada is a Canadian problem. To accept that it ebbs and flows with international news is not an acceptable approach for people who claim to oppose racism and advance inclusion.

Two interesting approaches – and doubtlessly scores more that have received less publicity – take aim at the issue. They come from organizations with significantly different views and propose significantly different responses. This diversity is understandable, in part because antisemitism manifests in diverse ways and so requires diverse responses. This also points to a larger problem: antisemitism is so diffuse and varied, and so historically enduring, that we can disagree on its very nature, its manifestations and causes, let alone how to confront and overcome it. If anyone had the magic solution, we wouldn’t be having this discussion three millennia on.

The latest intervention is a report by the Nexus Project, a US-based nonprofit focused on combating antisemitism while protecting democratic norms like free speech and civil rights. The Shofar Report: A Call to Defend Democracy and Confront Antisemitism contends the best way to combat antisemitism is to strengthen the values of American society (and other Western societies). It argues that Jewish safety and security and American (or, we might extrapolate, Western democratic) institutions are inseparable. Put succinctly, their approach rests on the conventional wisdom that the very societies where antisemitism flourishes are endangered in existential ways. As such, antisemitism is a kind of canary in the coal mine of societal erosion.

The report has several calls to action, including expanding education around the Holocaust, media literacy and diverse Jewish contributions to society; strengthening civil rights enforcement; countering disinformation and conspiracy theories; preserving academic freedom; building cross-community coalitions; and so forth. It critiques antisemitism on the left and right of the political spectrum. While these are not fresh ideas, they are compiled and contextualized here within the apparent erosion of American democracy. If these approaches have not seemed to work, a response might be that we have not been doing them forcefully enough or with enough resolve. With a rapidly changing landscape, might focused attention and some new tactics yield better results?

The Heritage Foundation has a rather more assertive approach. The foundation is perhaps best known in this era as the authors of Project 2025, which serves as a policy map for the current American administration.

Project Esther: A National Strategy to Combat Antisemitism, which was released a year ago, rests on the assumption that antisemitism in the United States (and, again, to extrapolate, in the West) is not an incidental, populist phenomenon, but a deliberately fomented strategy of a coordinated “Hamas Support Network.” The strategy of this report is to put pressure across academic, social, legal, financial and religious spheres to identify and isolate forces they see as perpetrators, supporters or fence-sitters. Their aim is to dismantle the “pro-Palestinian” movement as it is currently constituted, including associated liberal and progressive organizations. To that end, they focus exclusively on left-wing antisemitism. They recommend a combative strategy based on existing and new counter-terrorism and hate-crime laws, investigations and litigation.

We may agree with aspects of one approach more than the other, or take nuggets from each and a thousand other tactics. The solution to antisemitism’s rise, if there is one, will probably come from some synthesis of strategies: building bridges, fighting for democracy, and holding individuals and institutions accountable for their failures and fomentation. The most important thing is to be engaged in the struggle and not to assume that, if an overseas conflict is resolved, the domestic problem will be solved. That would be a form of denial and, while we can disagree over the potential resolutions, we must be unanimous in recognizing the painful realities of the problem. 

MAID vs Jewish values

I am a Canadian Jew with deep roots in Canada. My grandfathers, one from Winnipeg and the other from Toronto, helped build two of Vancouver’s prominent synagogues in the postwar era. I married a Canadian, also the descendent of Canadian Jewish leaders. Now that my wife and I are raising children south of the border, we frequently hear from my relatives in British Columbia about how much more enlightened Canadian society is. We often agree.

However, my perspective on Canada has been shifting as I’ve learned more about Canada’s ever-expanding Medical Assistance in Dying (MAID) program. Recent international media attention has focused on the fact that Canadians are choosing MAID at rates far beyond expectations, particularly as Canada has expanded eligibility to include non-terminal cases (“Track 2”). I am deeply concerned about this direction.

My message to Canadians, especially Canadian Jews, is this: please be more critical of your government. (Notice I said “please” – can’t shake those Canadian manners.) Just because MAID is legal does not mean it’s ethical. We Jews know all too painfully that the actions of Western, enlightened governments can be immoral.

Since I’m a rabbi, I’ll start with the ways I believe that MAID violates the most basic Jewish tenets. The Talmud teaches that three partners are involved in the creation of every human being: the two parents, and the Holy One. (Kiddushin 30b, Niddah 31a) This ancient teaching captures something profound about the limits of human authority over life and death – we are partners in creation, not owners of life itself.

Our tradition also teaches that “One who saves one life, it is as if he saved a whole world.” (Sanhedrin 37a) One of the most important theologians of our time, Rabbi Irving “Yitz” Greenberg, recently published Triumph of Life: A Narrative Theology of Judaism. In this book, a culmination of lifelong philosophical inquiry, Greenberg presents a theologically grounded vision of a world moving toward deeper recognition of the infinite value, equality and uniqueness of every person. I recommend reading it.

Judaism values protecting and supporting the vulnerable, not offering them death as a solution. Even Track 1 MAID presents complex questions within Jewish tradition. While Judaism prohibits hastening death, there is also a tradition against unnecessarily prolonging the dying process. Some Jewish authorities might find space within this framework for passive euthanasia for Track 1 cases; others maintain that any hastening of death crosses a fundamental line. But Track 2 MAID represents something categorically different and far more troubling from any Jewish perspective on the sanctity of life.

The Toronto Board of Rabbis wrote to Canadian senators in 2021 about MAID, expressing concern about “pressure, both subtle and overt” on vulnerable people to choose death. While this letter represented important rabbinic concern, it wasn’t enough. Canadian Jewish leaders from every denomination should articulate clearly that MAID’s existence and expansion fundamentally contradict Jewish values about infinite human worth.

Dr. Arielle Berger, a Toronto geriatrician studying for the rabbinate, writes about “fundamental ideas necessary for aging such as the centrality of gratitude to living a meaningful life, and the truth of interdependence, which allows us to both give and receive with generosity.” She notes the “transformative impact these counter-cultural ideas can have” on understanding worth beyond productivity. Berger uses a Jewish lens and Jewish texts to express that human worth isn’t contingent on productivity, independence or the absence of suffering. Dependence, weakness and need of others are universal features of being human.

I want to amplify voices like Berger’s and Greenberg’s, and urge more Canadian rabbis and other Jewish leaders in Canada to take a clear stance: MAID needs to be questioned on both societal and individual levels. Individual citizens should reject MAID. Rabbis and religious leaders should call on the Canadian government to repeal MAID, while also guiding congregants to choose life. Choosing to live, even when life is diminished or difficult, even when we might feel like “a burden,” remains sacred and valid.

Even non-religious people have good reasons for concern. When the government anticipates almost $150 million in annual savings from MAID, we’ve created a system where death becomes financially advantageous. The possibility of coercion is impossible to avoid.

It’s also deeply troubling for a government to play a role in killing citizens. Decriminalizing suicide is one thing; making death easily accessible through state systems is categorically different. And, if you wouldn’t end your own life directly, asking someone else to do it for you isn’t ethical either. It’s also unethical to be a doctor providing MAID; perhaps the people who do so need a new professional title – “euthanists” – since they’re no longer practising medicine in any traditional sense.

Additionally, MAID represents ageism and ableism dressed up in the language of autonomy and choice.

When my great-aunt Mona Winberg was born with cerebral palsy in Toronto in the 1930s, doctors told her mother to institutionalize her and forget her. The medical consensus was that her life would have no value. Her mother refused. Mona became a pioneering journalist and disability rights activist, receiving the Order of Canada, among other honours. But, even if Mona had never won awards or achieved public recognition, her life would have been important and worthwhile, just like my own.

If any of these more secular arguments speak to you, or if MAID just makes you uneasy, or if recent headlines feel like a dystopian novel, rest assured that you have support from Jewish wisdom that has guided our people for thousands of years.

The Canada my grandparents helped build was founded on the principle that society is judged by how it treats its most vulnerable members. Today’s Canada seems to have forgotten that value, bent on helping vulnerable members access easy death rather than better care. I’m not saying we in the United States have society all figured out; far from it. But Canadian Jews have an obligation to think and act critically, and to engage in this public conversation before MAID unravels in even more alarming ways. 

Seth Winberg is executive director of Hillel at Brandeis and senior chaplain of Brandeis University. This article was originally published by the CJN. For more national Jewish news, go to thecjn.ca.

Cheshvan a great month, too

The Hebrew month of Cheshvan, or “Mar Cheshvan,” is the second month on the calendar after Tishrei. It comes right after all the fall holidays end. The rabbis called it “mar,” or bitter, because it doesn’t have any holidays or special mitzvot (commandments). This mom has an entirely different take. I’m very tired … and relieved. 

This doesn’t take away from any of the meaning, pomp or special parts of the fall Jewish holidays, which are all fantastic. I’m still holding one moment as dear: sitting in my sukkah, I could see the clear sky, with a few clouds floating past, see and hear the migrating birds, smell and see the fall leaves, and embrace the chill in the air. It was a fabulous family meal moment, only topped by the solitary lunch I ate on the back porch, in the sukkah sunshine. I had the newspaper, along with a big plate of food. I was warm. There were no wasps. A true triumph, considering it often rains or snows in Winnipeg during this harvest holiday.

Yet, I’m also worn out, and not just from two years of worry about the war. If you live outside big Jewish population centres and you want celebratory holiday meals, the options are limited. In Winnipeg, if you want kosher food, there’s only catering from two or three places. If you’re OK with kosher-style food, there are more options, but, for instance, a beautiful big challah is not always easy to procure at the last moment. Even if you’re not strictly traditional, purchasing and putting together a holiday meal can be expensive and time consuming, even if you don’t cook it.

Challah is a good example. If you want a buy a single challah, it costs somewhere between $6 and $12 in Winnipeg. I like to cook and bake. From what we’ve observed, my recipe is richer and has a higher food cost than these commercially produced challahs. In the past, I used to make one batch (about three pounds) using my bread machine and produce three loaves. One would go into the freezer for a future Shabbat or holiday. Two would go out on the table and last the weekend. I now have twin teenage boys. All three challahs might last through Sunday lunch. Doubling the recipe and doing it all by hand results in more loaves to freeze for another day, but I receive grumbling from the peanut gallery because it doesn’t taste the same.

The person in charge of food prep in your household is well-aware of the grocery planning and food preparation time needed. They’ll even know the time it takes to set a holiday table and get everything out onto it before a holiday starts. Yes, it’s sometimes easier if others help, but sometimes it results in bellyaching and goes slower than if the most efficient person does it all by themselves.

In recent years, this effort has been given a few names: mental load is one. I’ve carefully tried not to gender this task. However, just as women’s pay rates in Canada still don’t equal men’s, it’s also true that women tend to shoulder much of this unpaid burden. Yes, there are exceptions, absolutely. There are women who’ve never left the workforce to have children, haven’t married or compromised in any way for a man’s career, and never been a caretaker. These women might make an equal wage for their work, and that’s great. It’s also true that there are men who shoulder most household tasks. Just like the example of Golda Meir as Israel’s prime minister, simply because an exceptional woman has achieved equity or high office doesn’t mean we’re “there” yet in terms of equality and equity for everybody.

I recently pitched a class for Limmud (an international program offering Jewish learning, where everyone pays to attend and shares the cost) about positive tips for raising Jewish kids. Many of the tips I thought of relate to this situation: special foods or cooking together, holiday celebrations, Jewish stories, activities or events, and Jewish learning and home life. Again, many of these tasks often fall to women, even though there’s no essentialist reason why they should. If a mom wants to do some quiet quitting and pull back to regain some time for herself, her work life or other pursuits, it doesn’t always follow that the other partner will jump into action to fill the void.

While mainstream Jewish organizations bemoan the cost of Jewish life, it’s rare that the supports exist to make this kind of unpaid labour easier. One exceptional example is when Jewish preschools provide parents with a way to order challah for Shabbat. Every Friday or holiday when school was in session, we were able to bring home challah affordably. It made a huge difference.

This isn’t, of course, a new phenomenon. I recently read about the requirements of the priests’ clothing in the Babylonian talmudic tractate Zevachim. Essentially, in the days of the Temple in Jerusalem, if the priests’ clothing wasn’t appropriate, it could make a person’s animal sacrifice invalid. To do a sacrifice, a person incurred a lot of costs: raising or purchasing an animal, getting to Jerusalem, and more. An invalid sacrifice could result in a horrible outcome for the person and their family, the priest and the community. Yet, no one discussed in this section how the priests got the clothing in the first place. Other information indicates that predominantly women spun all this yarn (on spindles, by hand) and wove the fabric and likely sewed it all together for the priestly garb. This effort was thousands of hours of unpaid work behind the scenes.

I’m looking forward to a hopefully peaceful and easier Cheshvan ahead. It’s a time that some may find bitter, but, like a bitter coffee served with dessert, sometimes a little less hoopla might be a nice, restful contrast. It also might give families time to reflect on who provides all that planning and labour to make your home celebrations special and your holidays a reality – there are many ways to alleviate that burden. Further, we should stop using examples of truly exceptional cases – that woman with nine kids who works full time and makes all the meals – to shame everyone else. A better outcome would be more equitable distribution of these Jewish tasks – to increase holiday or Shabbat joy in every household. 

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.

From the archives … a coin, etc.

My latest trip down a rabbit hole was inspired by this issue’s theme of Finance & Law. One of the first news items that caught my eye was “Model for U.S. Coin Revealed as a Jewess at Marriage.” The two-paragraph story appeared in the July 24, 1930, copy of one of the Jewish Independent’s predecessors, the Jewish Centre News.

“Through her marriage it was revealed that Miss Doris Doscher, whose face adorns the new twenty-five cent pieces issued by the National Treasury, is a Jewess. She was married yesterday to Dr. H. William Baum at the Jewish Institute of Religion,” reads the article.

“Miss Doscher was selected several years ago by the government representatives as the model for the new twenty-five cent pieces because she characterized ‘the highest type of American Womanhood.’”

Doscher, who lived from 1882 to 1970, was an actress (in silent films!) and model. Her main claim to fame movie-wise seems to have been the role of Eve in 1918’s The Birth of a Race. Her most famous modeling ventures were for the Standing Liberty Quarter (in circulation 1916-1930), designed by Hermon Atkins MacNeil, and for the Pulitzer Fountain of Abundance by Karl Bitter (and Thomas Hastings, according to nycgovparks.org), which was dedicated in 2016, having been completed by Isidore Konti and Karl Gruppe after Bitter died in 1915. The fountain is located at Grand Army Plaza in Manhattan.

From the late 1920s, Doscher worked as a newspaper columnist and radio broadcaster, even having her own health and beauty column for a time; she also lectured on the topic. But, back to the Standing Liberty Quarter, which was controversial for a couple of reasons.

The first iteration of Liberty was quite risqué, with her right breast exposed, which apparently appalled the women’s movement of the day, as well as clergy and others. According to edmontoncoinclub.com, “The initial production run of 52,000 pieces had made their way through the Treasury system by January 1917; by then, the production of the ‘Type 1’ 1917 issue was already in full-swing … but by early 1917 clearly something had to be done. Hermon MacNeil was obliged to modify his design, which he strenuously objected to [an article on uscoinnews.com asserts that MacNeil never authorized the design change], and the reasons that were given to him by the mint were everything from poor striking characteristics, relief problems, die wear, coin wear, anything else but that exposed breast. The dies were modified in time for the 1918 strike (known as ‘Type 2’), and it featured a now ‘clad-to-the-neck’ in chain-mail Liberty.” Other changes were made for that casting and there were later revisions. 

“The last run of the Standing Liberty Quarter took place in 1930, with only Philadelphia and San Francisco minting them. None were made in 1931 or 1932, possibly reflecting an oversupply because of the Great Depression, which had decimated the world economy in 1929,” notes the article on edmontoncoinclub.com.

The second controversy – which is still unresolved – arose after Doscher died. In 1972, another actress and model, Irene MacDowell, claimed to have been MacNeil’s model. According to various reports, her husband was friends with MacNeil and would not have approved of her modeling for the sculptor, hence, the secrecy. Another rumour is that MacNeil’s wife considered MacDowell a threat to her marriage, and so the sculptor kept her identity hidden.

It may never be known whether MacDowell or Doscher was the real model for the Standing Liberty Quarter, but Doscher was publicly credited, becoming known as known as “the girl on the Quarter.” And the moniker stuck. As noted on a memorial site for MacNeil (hermonatkinsmacneil.com), “100 years after the birth of Hermon MacNeil and fifty years after the Standing Liberty Quarter was minted, Doris Doscher Baum appeared on the TV quiz show I’ve Got a Secret on April 4, 1966.” The video is on YouTube.

There’s even more on this whole topic – including the reason the Standing Liberty coin was made. According to a blog on greatamericancoincompany.com, “When Robert W. Woolley took office as Mint director in April 1915, he asked [Philadelphia Mint superintendent Adam] Joyce to have [Mint chief engraver Charles] Barber submit some new designs for the dime, quarter and half dollar. It seems Woolley misinterpreted a memo from the assistant treasury secretary stating that coin designs could be changed after 25 years. Woolley took it to mean they must be changed and set the redesign wheels in motion.”

Barber’s suggested designs did not impress, and so a few sculptors were asked to make a submission, and MacNeil’s won. In the end, the blog notes, more than 214 million MacNeil quarters were made.

I could have spent as many hours exploring the other clippings I picked for this issue’s theme. I settled on a group that, to me, shows the paper’s diversity, as well as how technology and societal attitudes change over the years. 

image - April 4, 1947: In an article by Winnipeg Jewish community member David Orlikow, Saskatchewan’s then-premier Tommy Douglas talks about the Bill of Rights his province was introducing  – the first such bill in Canada. Orlikow would have a 43-year political career, including 26 years as an MP (1962-1988)
April 4, 1947: In an article by Winnipeg Jewish community member David Orlikow, Saskatchewan’s then-premier Tommy Douglas talks about the Bill of Rights his province was introducing  – the first such bill in Canada. Orlikow would have a 43-year political career, including 26 years as an MP (1962-1988).
imaeg - Oct. 17, 1969: An organization called the National Committee for Furtherance of Jewish Education was appalled, to say the least, by the goings-on at the Woodstock Music and Arts Festival, which, it contended, created “a national hallucination which has distorted the minds of 200,000,000 Americans as to what is wrong morally"
Oct. 17, 1969: An organization called the National Committee for Furtherance of Jewish Education was appalled, to say the least, by the goings-on at the Woodstock Music and Arts Festival, which, it contended, created “a national hallucination which has distorted the minds of 200,000,000 Americans as to what is wrong morally.”

image 1 - Community organizations need to fundraise, of course. A couple of the longest-running initiatives were the Hadassah Bazaar, which may have started in 1933 as a small affair at the JCC that graduated to Seaforth Armories in 1952, though the 1952 bazaar is generally counted as the first one and the 2007 event at the Hellenic Community Centre as the last; and the community phone directory, a fundraiser for Vancouver Talmud Torah that ran from 1959 to 2013-14.

image 2 - Community organizations need to fundraise, of course. A couple of the longest-running initiatives were the Hadassah Bazaar, which may have started in 1933 as a small affair at the JCC that graduated to Seaforth Armories in 1952, though the 1952 bazaar is generally counted as the first one and the 2007 event at the Hellenic Community Centre as the last; and the community phone directory, a fundraiser for Vancouver Talmud Torah that ran from 1959 to 2013-14.
Community organizations need to fundraise, of course. A couple of the longest-running initiatives were the Hadassah Bazaar, which may have started in 1933 as a small affair at the JCC that graduated to Seaforth Armories in 1952, though the 1952 bazaar is generally counted as the first one and the 2007 event at the Hellenic Community Centre as the last; and the community phone directory, a fundraiser for Vancouver Talmud Torah that ran from 1959 to 2013-14.

 

image - Nov. 17, 1995: Antisemitic graffiti on Beth Israel Synagogue concerned a passerby, but it was a “false alarm.” BI had agreed for its exterior to be used for “an episode of the locally-produced cop show The Commish.”
Nov. 17, 1995: Antisemitic graffiti on Beth Israel Synagogue concerned a passerby, but it was a “false alarm.” BI had agreed for its exterior to be used for “an episode of the locally-produced cop show The Commish.”

When approaches differ

News of a possible breakthrough that could lead to the end of the war between Israel and Hamas is encouraging, but there is effectively no happy ending to this situation. Nothing can return the lives lost or undo the horrors of the past two years. Even if it ends tomorrow, the tragedy of this war will go down as one of the saddest, most protracted chapters in a heartbreaking history.

The international repercussions have been less lethal but will have permanent implications for, among other things, the stability and well-being of Jewish communities in the diaspora. Global antisemitism has reached unimagined heights. And, globally, Jewish people and organizations are at odds over how to proceed.

For many months, voices in Israel, among Jews worldwide and in our own local community have been divided over, among other things, whether Israel should unilaterally end the war, pursue it to the stated end of eliminating Hamas or, depending on the perspective, something on a spectrum between these views. Some are calling for an Israeli or international occupation of Gaza. 

Here in British Columbia, weekly solidarity rallies at Vancouver City Hall have continued, sometimes with small numbers, and featuring a diversity of voices. Other rallies, including marches across the Burrard Street Bridge and, this week, a community commemoration of the second anniversary of 10/7, have brought together overlapping and different participants.

It is sometimes hard for human beings, especially those deeply determined to do the right thing, to accept that there can be legitimate but differing opinions on the best way forward. We should be able to agree on this: no one can predict the future or know for certain what is best for the people of that region (or for Jews worldwide). We may disagree on fundamentals, such as whether a two-state solution remains a viable possibility or whether, at the other end of opinion, the West Bank and Gaza should be absorbed into an enlarged state of Israel (a perspective still generally viewed as extremist), or whether some kind of federated one-state system might integrate both peoples’ needs and futures. If we disagree on the end goal, we will almost certainly find fault with the other side’s means of reaching it.

Stuck as we may be in what seems an ideological, moral, political, strategic and theological disagreement, it is easy to view others, even those in our own community, as adversaries – this certainly is reflected in some of the messages we have received in recent days. On the one hand, we received an open letter to community rabbis ostensibly reminding them what Jewish morality entails, and, on a different hand, we received messages declaiming those in our community who call for a ceasefire as being in cahoots with nefarious groups, including one proscribed by the federal government as a terrorist entity. Both missives encourage community members to call out those who do not agree with their approach.

The passions ignited around this topic are understandable. These are existential issues faced by our people and our homeland. With no universally agreed-upon ends or means, division is inevitable. We should, though, keep in mind that, while it is our obligation to pursue justice, that pursuit includes minimizing harm in our own community. We should be guided by the understanding that our actions will have greater impacts on our people’s well-being here at home than on events halfway around the world. 

While it may be difficult in the moment of discord to see the sincerity and humanity of those we see as our opponents, there is a commonality at play. Believe it or not, the people in our community most vehemently hostile toward your outlook are convinced, as you are, that they are acting in the best interests of the Jewish people, and, in most circumstances, the best interests of our homeland.

Human affairs are an art, not a science. There are – surprise! – no right answers, only opinions and presumptions. As convinced as we may be otherwise, not one of us can conclusively know for certain the best avenue to pursue to bring about the future we dream of. 

At a minimum, let us presume we are all committed to a future of peace, justice and security. What that looks like, and how we get there, will differ.

Let us further presume the best intentions in others and celebrate our shared desire for positive outcomes and the impassioned commitment even of those with whom we disagree. 

Grammar insight on holidays

This year, I volunteered to help during High Holidays at my congregation. As a result, I became one of the “ticket ladies” on Rosh Hashanah. I used a cellphone that scanned bar codes on service tickets. When I first saw this being done on a holiday, I was surprised because of the technology use at a Conservative congregation on a day when some might not carry a phone. My family chose to print out our tickets, but times change. Even though everyone in my family had a printed ticket, we carried our cellphones anyway as we volunteered. It seemed safer to have our phones while walking to synagogue and while we were there. After all, that’s what the tickets are for, too. They indicate that the person belongs or has a spot and that the person is “safe.” 

The police and private security guards asked where they should position themselves. More than once, they indicated that being indoors in the lobby might be a good spot. Instead, they were asked to stand outside, in autumn’s sunny weather, guarding the doors and/or directing traffic. I heard only one incident of loud, angry shouts on the street, near the police officer there. That was enough for me. I was relieved police were there, and that there were master lists of everyone who might be in the building that day, just in case. 

While outsiders might think that this security is new, this is just the usual necessity at Jewish gatherings, though admittedly now more than ever. At odd moments between ticket scans, I thought of a dear family friend named Marge, who passed away in her 90s. Marge was a venerable and respected volunteer at the temple where I grew up. She was famous for her High Holiday ticket lady efforts. Marge was all business at the front door, a big smile for those she knew as they flashed their tickets. Yet, even if Marge knew you for 50 years, if you forgot your ticket, that grin vanished. A stern reprimand ensued. Marge kept us safe, and she wasn’t playing. She took that job seriously. 

The congregation where I grew up, Temple Rodef Shalom in Falls Church, Va., is right near Washington, DC. Rodef Shalom started out small in the 1960s, when my paternal grandparents were founding members. It grew rapidly, along with the Washington area. My mom started its preschool, ran the entire education program, and ended her career there as the administrator/executive director. As a Jewish professional’s kid, I knew where the emergency alarm buttons were and that synagogues near DC were frequent targets of hate. Congregation members who worked for the FBI or CIA formed part of the volunteer security patrol for the High Holidays, too. Everyone smiled as they said that “no-nonsense” Marge ran a tight ship. She was their best line of defence. 

Nobody knew this history in Winnipeg when I was given the ticket lady designation. I’d emailed with Marge right up until her passing. I tried to see her at every family visit. She loved to tell me about her Canadian grandfather, a fur trader whose family came from Sault Ste. Marie. The whole holiday, in between wishing everyone gut yontif, shana tova or sweet new year, I longed to tell Marge all about how I was a ticket lady now. I knew she’d love it. When I mentioned this to my mother, we both smiled over the phone. I’d never be as good at it as Marge was, but my mom also said, “Don’t worry, I’m sure Marge knows. She’s proud of you.” 

Being a ticket lady was an education. I’ve been in Winnipeg 16 years, so I recognized many names on the tickets, but definitely not all the faces. As people rolled in, I also recognized how diverse we are as a people. Some of us are early, others right on time – and then, there are the rest. 

This experience let me greet new people and hold on to lifelong connections. It made me think about a grammar term that’s fallen out of use. I wondered at how, as individuals, we are also dependent clauses. For years, we have seen news, books and other sources where the editing allows a sentence to start with “and” or “but” in a way that’s clearly dependent on the prior sentence. When I see this, I want to chastise, just as Marge might have. To me, that editorial choice still grates, but the volunteer experience made me see how the Jewish community works together. At the best of times, we are an enormous team, dependent on one another to function at our best.

Volunteering is an important part of Canadian identity. It was a required topic to study for my Canadian citizenship test, and I wondered why more congregants hadn’t volunteered. It was a vital part of my holiday this year. It reminded me how reliant we are on one another, as well as on our allies, our laws and law enforcement. Dependent clauses aren’t full sentences on their own. We, too, must remain connected to maintain meaning as Jews in Canada. 

In the Babylonian Talmud’s tractate of Zevachim, which I’m now studying, there’s a lot of time spent on what happens when a Temple (animal) sacrifice goes wrong. If the priests in the Temple had the wrong intention or person in mind when performing a sacrifice, it could mean the person’s sacrifice wasn’t valid. We don’t sacrifice at the Temple in Jerusalem anymore, but our intentions, towards ourselves, the community and the world, still matter. Volunteering wasn’t a sacrifice for me. It felt like I was fulfilling my role with the best intentions while I depended on others to keep me safe at that open door. Instead of any kind of sacrifice, it was a High Holy Day bonus. 

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.