Category: Opinion
Time to vote again!
You may not know there is an election underway. Voting to elect delegates to the Canadian Zionist Federation closes Sunday, so you still have time to cast your ballot.
Although some of us have been receiving emails urging us to vote, it’s likely that most of us don’t even know there is campaign going on. It’s not front-page news.
Those chosen in the CZF election on Sunday will become delegates to the 39th World Zionist Congress, in Jerusalem, in October. (The legendary First Zionist Congress was convened by Theodor Herzl, in Basel, Switzerland, in 1897.)
Even if you haven’t yet heard about the elections, we think it’s worth taking a few moments to familiarize yourself with the slates, their platforms, and the role of CZF in connecting Canadian Jews to Israel. We encourage you to take this opportunity to have a small but important voice in the future of Zionism and our relationship with the Jewish homeland. Registering to vote costs $2.
The Canadian Zionist Federation is a national affiliate of the World Zionist Organization, and is comprised of 11 national Jewish Zionist organizations. These include the religiously affiliated groups ARZA Canada, “the Zionist voice of the Canadian Reform movement,” the Conservative movement’s MERCAZ Canada, and the Orthodox Eretz HaKodesh; political groups affiliated with Israeli parties, including Likud Canada, Herut Canada and Meretz Canada; ethnically oriented groups like Shas Olami, affiliated with the Sephardi and Mizrahi Orthodox party Shas, and Mizrahi Canada; and a linguistic grouping, the Canadian Forum of Russian-Speaking Jewry, as well as the non-denominational, non-partisan youth group Young Judaea, and Ameinu Canada, “a national, multi-generational community of progressive Jews in Canada, the United States, Australia and Brazil.” The slates in this election reflect and overlap within and across these groupings.
The World Zionist Organization styles itself as “the parliament of the Jewish people,” and it convenes every five years. WZO sets priorities for the Zionist movement worldwide. It is the main global voice on policy around Israel-diaspora relations, on such topics as Jewish education funding abroad, aliyah and religious recognition. The WZO allocates hundreds of millions of dollars in funding through Zionist institutions like the Jewish Agency, Keren Hayesod (United Israel Appeal) and Jewish National Fund.
Through the Canadian Zionist Federation – and then via the World Jewish Congress – each of us is granted a say in these essential issues. If you care about Israel and its relationship with the diaspora, and you would like to have a voice in the direction of that relationship, this is one important avenue.
Take time to peruse the platforms of the various groups vying for your vote. You may want to place particular attention on issues around the preservation of Israeli democracy, and legal protections and social equality for women and minorities in the country. Perhaps one or more of the platforms will reflect your views on how Israel can work toward peace while protecting its citizens and ensuring the long-term security of its borders.
Read the materials and see which slate best reflects your opinion on how many millions of dollars should be spent to strengthen Jewish life in Israel and worldwide. These elections – and the decisions to be taken at the Congress to which the delegates will be sent – represent the values and priorities of world Jewry.
Israel and Jews collectively are at an unprecedented moment – and while, by definition, every moment is unprecedented, especially in Jewish history, this feels different.
Perhaps you didn’t know you were eligible to vote. Maybe you were only vaguely aware of the Canadian Zionist Federation and what it does. You had probably heard of the First Zionist Congress but maybe didn’t know that the through-line in Zionist history continues from Basel in 1897 to Jerusalem in 2025.
Now you know a little more. Dive deeper. And, on or before Sunday, vote at czf.ca.
Complexities of celebration
My family’s in the middle of a month of celebrations. June is always this way at our house, but it’s even more intense this time around.
In a “usual” June, we celebrate two family birthdays and a wedding anniversary; it’s also the end of school for our kids. This year, we started off with a bang. Our twins had their birthday on Erev Shavuot. In the morning, we joined the huge Pride Parade festivities. In the evening, our community, in Winnipeg, had a Tikkun Leil Shavuot (a traditional night of study at the beginning of the holiday) with hundreds participating from four congregations. While we ate dairy foods and celebrated, to our surprise, the whole room sang our kids a rousing version of Yom Huledet Sameach (Happy Birthday). It was something to remember – they were surrounded by smiles and learning.
Shavuot is celebrated in a lot of ways. It’s a first fruits and first wheat harvest holiday. It’s also the day that we celebrate the giving of the Torah and read the Book of Ruth. Some observe this holiday as a day of radical inclusion, when everyone, no matter your age or gender, should hear the Ten Commandments read.
Radical inclusion is something I think about a lot. This year, my nephew in Virginia, LJ, who has cerebral palsy and uses a power wheelchair and assisted communication device, celebrated Shavuot with his confirmation class at Temple Rodef Shalom, a Reform congregation near Washington, DC. He gave a speech at the service, carefully planned, about the intersection of his identities as a Jewish and disabled person and as an advocate for accessibility. He spoke eloquently about how Judaism teaches us to pursue justice, and how he works to help make that possible. LJ has given many speeches: on how others can learn about assisted communication, on how to teach math to those with visual disabilities, and on myriad other topics. At 16, LJ is already an accomplished advocate who rolls into rooms filled with adults and shows them new ways to help learners with disabilities.
During his recent speech, LJ mentioned how his religious school helpers have gone on to helping professions: speech pathology, special education, and more. It’s true that some see people with disabilities as having high needs, but all people have things to teach others and to give the world. LJ’s need for physical support results in a huge net positive. He positively affects the lives of many others around him.
At the Tikkun Leil Shavuot I attended, Rabbi Yosef Benarroch (who served in the 1990s as spiritual leader of Beth Hamidrash in Vancouver) gave the keynote. Benarroch is retiring from Congregation Adas Yeshurun-Herzlia here in Winnipeg and moving back to Israel to join his family. His address reminded us about all the ways in which we can help one another and perform acts of chesed (kindness) towards others. His summary of a day in the life of a congregational rabbi made me feel tired! However, it was filled with ways he was of service to others, while getting to do mitzvot (commandments) and sharing important moments in people’s lives.
I’d be the first to say that, sometimes, as a mom, helping meet others’ needs can be exhausting. There are years where I look ahead to June and think, “Wow, I’ll be making a lot of birthday cake – and how many holiday and celebratory meals?” Yet, hearing these two different perspectives, on Jewish advocacy and acts of kindness, really raised me up. It reminded me of how much there is to do in the world, and how lucky we are if we’re healthy, capable and able to do it.
Right now, in Manitoba, we’re coping with huge wildfires and many evacuees. As the bossy mom, I forced everyone to go through their closets so we could participate in the donation drives, because something like 17,000 people have been forced to flee their homes. One of my family members said, “We just donated stuff! We probably don’t have anything to offer!” Three bags of clothing (women’s, men’s and teens’) and blankets later, we were dropping off what we could find before Shavuot started. I reminded my 14-year-olds that this was their birthday mitzvah – the traditional extra commandment that they took on – and we celebrated it through the smoky morning.
If you’re like me, it can be a struggle to relax into a wholehearted celebration while holding so much in our hearts at once. Whether it’s the hostages in Gaza, the war, the wildfires, antisemitism worldwide or issues closer to home, it’s understandable if it’s difficult to be completely joyful. Yes, we are commanded to celebrate at certain times, but I am reminded of the traditions of Jewish weddings. At every Jewish wedding, we break a glass to remind ourselves of the loss of the Temple in Jerusalem. We hold a bittersweet feeling of grief and pain even at our most meaningful moments. This acknowledgement doesn’t keep us from continuing to hope, to celebrate, while including everyone.
Today, I’ve had the honour of visiting a longtime family friend in the hospital. I brought her snacks and flowers from our garden. She’s just undergone surgery after a fall. I was relieved to find her in good humour. I’ve gotten to cook a bit for her family, as well as mine, and found time to work, walk the dog and even pull up copious weeds. Every handful of invasive greenery removed showed me the flowering plants underneath. I celebrated the riotous colour of both the weeds and the irises.
There’s no guarantee that every moment will be happy or every summer a celebration. Still, we have so many opportunities to do kindnesses, perform mitzvahs and be there to advocate for one another. If Shavuot sticks with me long after it ends, it’s not because of cheesecake or even first fruits. During a month of family celebration this year, Shavout also offered the opportunity to celebrate our tradition, which offers us great gifts if we make the most of them: learning, Torah and radical inclusion, too.
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.
Flipping through JI archives #1
In putting together the Jewish Independent’s special 95th Anniversary issue last month, I came across so many articles of interest. Too many, of course, to include in one issue or series of issues. But I figured it’d be fun to have some random glimpses back into our community’s history. This is the first “Flipping through JI archives” column that will appear through to the end of the year. I hope you enjoy it as much as I will.
July 27, 2001: This clipping isn’t so random. It’s the first Summer issue we put together. Pictured are Pat Johnson (reading), Kyle Berger (fishing and backpacking) and me (playing tennis and baseball). The late Baila Lazarus, who took the photo, is cheering the city’s nightlife.
June 13, 2008: Baila Lazarus, z”l, took most of our staff-filled Jewish Independent Summer covers, and she took this Rockower Award-winning one, which I absolutely love. With the help of Sue Cohene of Kol Halev Performance Society, we – left to right, Ron Friedman, Leanne Jacobsen, Josie Tonio McCarthy, me and Steve Freedman – donned period clothing to play a round of croquet in Cohene’s backyard.
June 28, 2002: Spot colour has been used in the paper since the 1940s, albeit sparingly. In the 1960s, bright red print or text frames would highlight stories the paper’s publishers thought urgent. Less dramatically, the Jewish Western Bulletin and Jewish Independent logos would be in spot colour. It looks like holiday issue covers have been printed in full colour since 1999, but this photo seems like the first we ran as part of an article. Too bad it wasn’t for a happier story!
March 26, 1992: Israel Bonds has long advertised in these pages. This article notes the organization’s inaugural Canadian dollar investments.
May 17, 1934: Safeway was a regular advertiser in the paper’s early years. Imagine berries from Aylmer in tins! Those two cans for 15 cents translates into about $3.36 in today’s dollars and, according to its website, Safeway has a deal on about the same amount of fresh strawberries for $3.99 (down from $6.99). The 59-cent cost of a three-pound tin of Crisco (with a free pie plate!) translates into $13.21, but you’d have to pay slightly more today, $14.29. And, there is no size equivalent to the pound of coffee on Safeway’s website, but based on the price per 100 grams it lists, it’d cost you $13.35 today, but 35 cents in today’s dollars is only $7.83.
Kind of a miracle
King Charles was in Canada this week, delivering the Speech from the Throne. It was a monumental moment in many ways, not least because it was the first official visit by the monarch since he ascended to the throne. For those of us whose entire lives have been lived under the reign of Queen Elizabeth II, it remains a fascinating and jarring challenge to the tongue to hear the phrase “the King of Canada.”
Paging through back issues of the Jewish Western Bulletin, which preceded the Jewish Independent, one of many striking things is the efforts that Jewish individuals, businesses and other advertisers have taken, over the decades, to express loyalty to king (or queen, as the case more commonly has been) and country.
Knowing what we know of antisemitic tropes, we suspect that this had more than a little to do with the stereotype of “dual loyalty.” Throughout history, Jews have been accused of being more loyal to their “tribe” than to their countries of domicile. Since 1948, this antisemitic idea has been applied to Israel, whose interests Jews today are often accused of prioritizing above the interests of their own countries, like Canada.
The sort of hyper-patriotic and monarchist messages we saw in the pages of this paper in decades past have largely disappeared. The trope of dual loyalty is not the most prevalent or dangerous threat to Jewish security in Canada or most other Western countries at the moment. Put succinctly, those who want to take offence with Jewish Canadians are less likely to go the extra step and accuse us of dual loyalty. They just cut to the chase and contend that any support for Israel at all is evidence of ill-will or immorality.
As we have turned the pages of the past in preparing for this special anniversary issue, that is just one small example of social change reflected from issue to issue in 95 years as an institution in this community.
As much as things have changed, so a great deal has remained the same. It is amusing, heartening and sometimes frustrating to see the repetitive nature of (we suppose) humankind in general and Jewishkind in particular across 10 decades. So many of the same discussions and arguments that our people were engaged in locally and globally 60 or 70 years ago remain on our lips today. More encouragingly, the leaders, activists and influencers (we certainly didn’t use that latter word until far more recent issues) of our community have often shared the same surnames, from the 1930s through to today, and so many new surnames – Jews from myriad different backgrounds – have joined the list of community contributors. The continuity combined with the growth in number and diversity is reassuring.
So much has changed in 95 years, such that the originators of the newspaper you hold in your hands (or, by a previously unimaginable magic of futuristic wonder, are reading on some whirring space-age illuminated rectangle) could not have foreseen.
These are not easy days for print media or, really, legacy media of any variety. We believe, and we hope you share our certainty, that the product we put out, as the latest iteration of a 95-year commitment to informing and reflecting our community, has value today, as it has across most of the past century.
As attention spans have shortened and the media landscape has refracted, keeping eyes on these pages is a challenge. At times, we content ourselves with the belief that the stories we write today will only increase in value as, at some unimaginable future time, and perhaps using some heretofore unimagined technological phenomenon, researchers or people with an avocational curiosity about the past, will finger through what we have written to understand better who we were and, therefore, how the Jewish community of the future became what it is, just as a review of our archives helps us understand how we came to be who we are today.
That a small, plucky newspaper operating on a shoestring at the remote edges of the Jewish universe could survive, and occasionally thrive, across 95 years is, even in the context of the much longer, always extraordinary, history of the Jews, something of a miracle.
This is a moment for us to thank everyone who made this possible, many of whose names have appeared in these pages across the years and many who have not. As a reader and supporter of the Jewish Independent, you are now part of that long legacy of people who have made this moment happen. Thank you for making this milestone possible. More importantly, thank you for making possible our present and our future.
Sharing a special anniversary
When does something begin? I’ve been thinking about that as I go through 95 years’ worth of Jewish Independents. Well, 20 years of JIs and 75 years of its predecessor, the Jewish Western Bulletin. The JWB also had its predecessors – mimeos and letter-sized versions. The paper’s founders started counting on Oct. 9, 1930, the official first tabloid edition, when they could have started July 15, 1925, “the natal issue of the Vancouver Jewish Bulletin.” Or maybe earlier. Who knows when the idea that brought into existence what would become, through thousands of issues, the paper you today hold in your hands or read on your computer.
I know I’ve mentioned this fact in previous anniversary issues, that the JI could be considered five years older than the age we have deemed it to be. In looking through so many beginnings – and endings – throughout the years, it struck me again. So many organizations have multiple possibilities for the equivalent of their first edition. For example, the Louis Brier Home and Hospital was organized in 1945, but the idea for it probably came even earlier and the home didn’t open until 1946.
I share this as a caveat because, as I went through the paper’s archives, looking for other community organizations that are celebrating a significant anniversary this year, I no doubt have missed some. But my intent was good – I wanted to share the JI’s “special day” with others.
Unfortunately, I was hampered in my goal because the search function of the online Jewish Western Bulletin archives (newspapers.lib.sfu.ca/jwb-collection) is basically dysfunctional. If I had a 95th birthday wish, it would be to have the funding to have all the newspapers back to 1925 re-digitized and re-indexed, so that this priceless resource could be more accessible. In the meantime, I hope readers can embrace the random smattering of “clippings” that represent my attempt to show how the newspaper has grown with the community – our success being directly attributable to our collective success.
Going through the pages of the newspaper over 95 years is both an inspiring experience and a sobering one. Countless people, organizations, businesses and events no longer exist, but there are always new people coming into the world, coming into the community; new groups being created, new businesses popping up, new ideas being discussed, new events being organized. If the size of the Community Calendar is any indication, there is more happening in the community today than there has ever been.
During my 26 years as publisher – or, one of my other beginnings, 27 years since I was hired by the paper – there have been recessions, wars, a global pandemic, and seemingly inexhaustible antisemitism, which has increased greatly since Hamas’s terror attacks on Israel on Oct. 7, 2023. I am still processing that massacre, the ensuing war and all the other violent conflicts happening in the world, the hate and the anger that threaten to overwhelm. It never ceases to amaze and sadden me, humanity’s ability to be as destructive and cruel as we can be creative and compassionate. I won’t dwell on the negative here.
In running the newspaper, I have tried to maintain a middle ground, to be inclusive but also respect my own boundaries. I think there are concerns that should be played out in public, and others that should be dealt with privately. The JI is not a gossip rag, it is not sensationalist or alarmist. That is a decision I have made, and that our editorial board (Pat Johnson, Basya Laye and me) considers every issue.
While not ignoring the hurtful, the divisions, the controversies in our community or the larger universe, we try to cover stories in a way that doesn’t depress and paralyze action, but rather opens the door for solutions or at least positive attempts at change. We don’t want readers to put down the newspaper in despair, but rather to think about what they can do to contribute to a better world, whatever that means to them. One ad in this paper heralds the JI for being the bearer of good news – it makes me happy that people think that, even as we report the news that’s not so good.
The Jewish Independent has survived so long because of one thing: community support.
In 95 years, there has been much to mourn, that is true, but there also has been so much to celebrate. Personally, during my tenure as publisher, I have benefited from many kindnesses, from generous landlords and donors to loyal subscribers and the people who support the paper through purchasing ads.
I have met, worked with and/or become friends with some truly amazing people. I consider myself lucky to have joined the paper early enough to have met in person several of the visionaries who built the organizational foundations of this community, not to mention those of the province, even of Canada, in some instances. There are afternoon teas, lunches and gala dinners I’ll remember forever, if the mind stays healthy.
The people I work with are smart, talented, dedicated and should be earning a lot more than they are. I might own the paper, but by no means do I run it alone. The people whose names you see on the masthead every issue are integral to publishing the paper. And all the people who have been on that masthead over the years – and the many more who have not been recognized in print – have helped keep the paper going, from its first days to today. I thank you all.
I am not a journalist per se, nor an entrepreneur. I’m trained as an economist, and still make myself chuckle when I think of the most uneconomical choice I have made in my life – to buy this newspaper. But it has kept me clothed and fed, with a roof above my head. It has taught me so many things and, though I’ve not always been a willing student, I am better for the lessons.
Most importantly, I am better for all the people I have encountered on this journey. I have made many friends and acquaintances. Not all my encounters have been pleasant or easy, but I have come to appreciate more as I’ve gotten older that, behind the organizations serving the community are simply people. Maybe people I don’t always agree with, but people who are undeniably committed. They are people who believe in community so much that they give of their time, either as volunteers or staff or both, working in one place, volunteering in others. Or they give of their financial resources, funding causes in which they believe, choosing to give away some of their money rather than letting it sit in the bank or using it for personal wants and needs.
It is a privilege to do what I do for a living. I am proud to be part of this extraordinary community. Kol hakavod to us all. May we go from strength to strength….
Now let’s party. Happy anniversary to all the other Jewish organizations celebrating a milestone this year!
Privileges and responsibilities
When we moved to Canada for my husband’s academic job in 2009, we had work permits. Mine stated I couldn’t work with children or do farmwork. I’d previously been a teacher, but, with this work permit, I only taught adults. I volunteered at friends’ farms, but these skills couldn’t offer income. I did a few Jewish community events, leading family services, for instance, but I didn’t want to jeopardize my status.
I felt all the upheaval was worthwhile. We lived in a college town in Kentucky before moving to Canada. We drove 121 kilometres each way to attend a congregation with a rabbi. The town we lived in had about 20 Jewish families and a lay-led small Reform congregation. While my husband’s professor job was good, I’d lacked job prospects there. It was lonely without much of a Jewish community. When my husband was offered a Canada Research Chair in Manitoba, moving north made sense.
We’re law-abiding folk. We followed all the visa requirements. However, when trying to get Canadian permanent residency, the process required a chest X-ray. Pregnant with twins in 2011, I had to wait until after I gave birth. This stalled things. Meanwhile, we never thought committing a crime was a good choice while in Canada on a visa or a residency permit. (Or now, as citizens.)
Canadian permanent residents have all the rights of citizenship except voting and running for public office. If you’re convicted of a crime, permanent residency can be revoked. At each stage, whether work permit, permanent residency or citizenship, it’s important to obey the laws of the place you’re living in.
Later, as a permanent resident, I pitched book ideas to publishers at a Winnipeg library event. The publisher asked if I was a citizen. If not, they said they couldn’t read my manuscript. Their government funding was “only for citizens.” Afterwards, I researched it and emailed the publisher – Canadian presses can publish eligible permanent residents’ work using the same government funding. I received no reply.
By then, I realized my non-citizen experiences were normal and considered acceptable. Citizenship means something. Those born in Canada often don’t understand their privileges. Newcomers will mention their credentials and the hard effort it took to enter Canada. Canada loves successful, educated immigrants. Yet, upon arrival, those credentials often aren’t recognized, meaning we’re not eligible to do the same work here. It might take years to requalify the “Canadian” way.
I recalled all this when the US government began to detain foreign university students before deporting them. The outcry has been fast and furious. How dare immigration take Mahmoud Khalil away from his pregnant wife? Yet, as a parent, I thought, “Why would anyone on a visa or residency permit risk illegal behaviour? They might be forced to abandon their family!”
Perhaps protesting international students never reviewed their visa terms. In the United States, green card holders aren’t allowed to try to change the government by illegal means. Those who trespassed on or vandalized university campuses, threatening resistance in support of groups deemed terrorists by both the United States and Canada, took big risks.
Some US international students knew they’d violated their visa regulations. Some students “self-deported.” A Cornell graduate student, Momodu Taal, left the United States on his own.
Cornell University emphasizes that actions have consequences and that, with privilege, comes responsibility. I heard this repeatedly during my undergraduate years at Cornell. However, when a Columbia University grad student, Ranjani Srinivasan, left the United States for Canada, CBC’s headline read, “Grad student who fled US says claims about her alleged support of Hamas are ‘absurd.’” Why did Srinivasan flee if the allegations were absurd and didn’t violate the law?
Long ago, my husband attended graduate school in Britain. As an American, he had to register his identity and contact information at the local police department. Though he didn’t break any laws, the trek to the station and the US passport stamped “ALIEN” were a sobering reminder of status.
It isn’t popular to take responsibility for one’s actions. Even expecting law enforcement to enforce the laws against some illegal activity isn’t common. Hate crimes against Jewish Canadians soared out of control in 2024. According to a recent B’nai Brith Canada audit, few cases are prosecuted. According to 2023 statistics, 72% of these types of hate crimes went unsolved.
Perhaps those fleeing the United States have seen this statistic. It’s now common in North America to protest on city streets, waving Hezbollah or Hamas flags. Protesters use words like “intifada” and “resistance” while claiming this is a right to free speech. These words and the actions that followed resulted in the deaths of thousands whose identities differed from the Islamist groups who “resisted.” Sometimes, Jews in Israel (or Canada) are the targets. Targets include Israeli Druze, Christians or Bedouin, too. In neighbouring Syria, minority groups targeted by Islamists are slaughtered, but without Canadian news coverage comparable to the Israel/Gaza conflict.
As but one example of many incidents across the country, it’s apparently legal to protest and yell “baby killers,” an antisemitic trope, outside of the Winnipeg Jewish community centre. That same building complex contains a daycare, school and programming for the elderly. In April 2025, protesters claimed they did this because two Israeli soldiers came to speak about their experiences on Oct. 7, 2023, and their military service in Gaza.
But, wait a moment, Canadian soldiers who speak about their military service in Afghanistan don’t face protesters. Do protesters stand near mosques when a relevant guest speaks, to protest violent upheavals in Syria, Nigeria or Sudan? No, it’s only about Israel, where half the world’s Jewish population lives. Protesters openly spout hatred against Canadian Jewish citizens, about 1% of the Canadian population, but not other minorities.
Immigrants, like foreign students, don’t get all the rights of citizenship. Citizenship is a “membership” and has its privileges. Freedom of expression isn’t absolute in either the United States or Canada. In both countries, discrimination, hate speech, incitement to violence and defamation are illegal.
Canadians must remember the responsibilities that accompany the privileges. Let’s enforce Canada’s laws against hate. Behaving properly towards one another and treating all Canadians as worthy of respect are Canadian values. Hate speech, and valorizing terrorist groups and their flags, aren’t.
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.
When crisis hits, we show up
As a member of the Jewish community, I’ve come to recognize a powerful truth: when crisis strikes, we show up. That’s who we are.
It’s not performative. It’s not for headlines. It’s rooted in Jewish values that demand action – to heal the world (tikkun olam), to care for the stranger (ve’ahavta et hager) and to take responsibility for one another (arevut hadadit).
So, when tragedy struck our Filipino neighbours at the Lapu Lapu festival in Vancouver, the Jewish community responded – as we always strive to do, with compassion. Our community mobilized within hours. Not just with condolences, but with coordinated, tangible action. A dedicated fund was quickly established for affected families. We partnered with Filipino BC, the United Way, the Archdiocese of Vancouver, the City of Vancouver and other local organizations to ensure a compassionate, coordinated response.
These aren’t symbolic gestures – they are meaningful efforts to help a community recover, rebuild and feel supported in its darkest moment. And it’s not the first time our community has responded like this – not even close.
We’ve shown solidarity with Indigenous communities through Truth and Reconciliation events, advocating for justice, supporting families of missing and murdered women, and bringing in speakers.
After the Quebec mosque shooting, we stood with our Muslim neighbours, condemning Islamophobia, and supported Syrian and Afghan refugees with sponsorship, fundraising, housing, and provided immigration help.
In response to George Floyd’s murder and rising anti-Asian hate, we participated in rallies, spoke out and called for systemic change in policing.
We’ve actively supported LGBTQ+ rights by participating in Vancouver’s Pride Parade and advocating for policies against discrimination.
In the wake of floods and wildfires, we provided aid, opened our homes and joined environmental campaigns for climate justice.
From Haiti to Ukraine, and East Africa to Nepal, our community has raised money and supported global aid efforts to provide humanitarian relief to those affected.
We don’t burn flags, we build bridges. We don’t chant hateful slogans, we extend hands in solidarity. We don’t destabilize, we stabilize, support and stand together. That is the spirit that lives within the Jewish community here in Vancouver. In moments of crisis, we don’t disappear – we show up.
That is the spirit embedded in Jewish life. These values are part of who we are. They guide us – especially in moments of pain and need. We act when it matters most.
That’s why I’m proud to be Jewish. Proud to be part of a people whose instinct is to act with compassion – no matter who is in need. Tzedakah, tikkun olam and arevut hadadit are not just words we recite. They are the path we walk. That’s who we are.
Lana Marks Pulver is board chair, Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver.
Ways to overcome negativity
In times of rising antisemitism and violence, fear is valid. When the world feels like it’s unraveling, anchoring yourself in a deeper sense of purpose can be healing. (screenshot)
Fear is not a weakness. It’s a deeply human response to a real or perceived threat. In times of rising antisemitism and violence, fear is valid. But we must not let it be the only voice in the room.
By acknowledging the fear – whether of violence, isolation or helplessness – we reduce its power. At the same time, we also make space for other emotions, such as courage, care and resilience, to emerge.
There are many things we can do to help us overcome the foreboding atmosphere of negativity and fear that is knocking at our door. Focusing on what we can do, gives us a sense of agency when we might otherwise feel helpless and alone.
There is the physical aspect of fear. It is important to be aware of what is happening as you notice you are feeling anxious, by staying present and being grounded. The brain often races into the future during fear: What if this happens to my community? My family? Me? This kind of “catastrophic thinking” pulls us out of the moment and floods our bodies with stress hormones.
It is important to know how to manage physical symptoms as they come up. Have you ever practised mindful breathing or meditation? Going to the beach and being aware of the beauty of our surroundings is a way to relax the constant noise that comes with stressful thinking. It is important to stay informed, but we often tend to keep scrolling for more information when there might not be anything else available. Learn how to say “dayeinu,” it is enough for today.
Build connection, not isolation
Fear thrives in silence. One of the most powerful antidotes to fear is community; connecting with people who understand your pain and can help hold it with you. It is important to build community to fight isolation. Ask yourself:
• Who in my life can I be vulnerable with?
• Is there a synagogue, support group or mental health resource I can lean on?
• Can I be that presence for someone else?
There is strength in the simple act of saying, “You’re not alone.” It may be that your reaching out to ask for help will in fact help someone else.
Not everyone will be on the front lines of activism – and that’s OK. But each of us has a role to play in healing the world, even in small ways:
• Check in on someone who may be afraid or isolated.
• Wear your Jewish identity with pride – a Magen David, a kippah – if it feels right to you.
• Educate others, kindly and clearly, when misinformation spreads.
• Support Jewish organizations and security efforts.
Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes, it whispers, “I will keep showing up.”
When the world feels like it’s unraveling, anchoring yourself in a deeper sense of purpose can be healing. Ask yourself where you can make an impact. Do you have a particular skill that may make a difference to individuals or an organization? Judaism has a rich tradition of resilience, moral clarity and hope. Pirkei Avot 2:5 reminds us that, “In a place where there are no leaders, strive to be that leader.” In other words, act with integrity, even when others do not. This is real courage and takes strength and commitment.
Judaism teaches us to choose hope
Our tradition teaches us to choose hope, again and again. Hope isn’t naïve. It’s an act of spiritual resistance. It’s choosing to believe, even with trembling hands, that goodness still exists and that we are its agents. When you are with friends and family, celebrate moments of kindness. Remind one another of stories, not only of loss, but of survival and joy.
Living Jewishly, publicly and proudly, in today’s world takes immense strength. You are not alone in your fear – nor in your resolve. Fear may visit, but it doesn’t get to move in and take over. Our world needs as many of us to be positive ambassadors as we need those fighting antisemitism on the front lines. As Mahatma Gandhi once expressed it, “be the change you wish to see in the world.”
Shelley Karrel is a registered clinical counsellor in Vancouver; you can reach her at karrelcounselling.com.
Living in a personal paradise
It is raining today in our area of Vancouver. I am specifying our area because things could be very different in other areas of our metropolis, with the variety of climatic zones it presents on the shores of our western sea.
My Bride and I are enjoying the solitude of our own company. Our various familial connections are pursuing their affairs in different parts of the planet. We are in our 90s (thereabouts), tolerating various aches and pains that time has made us heir to. Nevertheless, I am suddenly aware that we have achieved our personal paradise.
I am aware that we are surrounded with an unending list of things in our world that need corrective action. Our world can report a litany of tragic stories that require happy endings, some that personally touch us deeply, many we are aware of from afar. We know there are things to be done, some that may even require concerted action on our part.
But, at this very moment, I am overwhelmed by a feeling that those in my immediate circle are safe and secure, and I am grateful. I can look around me and see the place where I live. It may need tidying, but it is pleasing to my eye. We have pictures of our loved ones, past and present, and they cover almost every possible vacant space.
There are many beautiful things that we have collected over the years arrayed where they have found places to stand. The fridge is full to bursting and we doubt that we will be able to consume it all before we will have to discard some of it. We have money in the bank for the bills this month and as far out in time as we can imagine.
In our long history, we know that there have been many times, many places, where the scene before us was very different. Despite the whirling of issues in our minds, the horrors we know exist even around the corner, we have a place and time that is, for us, a paradise.
I remember when I endured a space that spoke to me only of finding the means to escape. I know that my Bride has faced conditions, physically and emotionally, that taxed the limits of her strength. Somehow, we’ve managed.
There were times when our offspring were off in unknown places beyond our capacities to intervene on their behalf as we would have liked. We have had personal relationships that have tried us beyond the limits we thought we could bear, and we survived them.
My Bride and I have been together for 20 years. Despite my solitary nature, she persisted nevertheless, until we were ultimately able to be open to each other as to our mutual vulnerabilities and forge a loving relationship. We glory in that every day.
We remember our triumphs, those accomplishments of which only we ourselves may be aware, jobs well done. Our present makes our contemplation of our past so much easier. And those past experiences make our present – the people, the place, the time – more like the paradise it is.
Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.