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Freedom found in art

Riva Lehrer, author of Golem Girl, recently spoke on the topic Art Celebrating JDAIM (Jewish Disability Awareness, Acceptance and Inclusion Month). (photo from JBF)

Artist, writer and curator Riva Lehrer spoke at this month’s Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival on the topic Art Celebrating JDAIM (Jewish Disability Awareness, Acceptance and Inclusion Month). Lehrer’s work focuses on issues of “physical identity and the socially challenged body.”

In the Feb. 7 Zoom talk from her home in Chicago, Lehrer discussed her 2020 illustrated memoir, Golem Girl,and her life as an artist born with disabilities into a world determined to “fix” her. Later in life, she found freedom through the flourishing disability arts movement.

Lehrer was born in 1958 with spina bifida. Throughout her early years, the message she received from those around her was that she was broken and would never have a job, a romantic relationship, or an independent life.

The memoir is comprised of two parts. The first deals with growing up in a time when people with disabilities were supposed to be hidden away from the rest of the world. The second looks at reaching adulthood after being raised to think that she was a mistake.

“I grew up thinking I was always wrong and always needed to be fixed, not just from medical professionals, but from everyone in society, who treated me like something to stare at or feel pity for. A lot of the book is taking that apart and addressing why people are stigmatized,” she said.

During Lehrer’s youth in Cincinnati, most children with a condition like hers were institutionalized. There was not a lot of modeling as to how to parent a child with disabilities. Lehrer, however, does credit her mother, who had worked as a medical researcher, for being much less fearful of the situation than an average parent might have been and for refusing the inclination to have her institutionalized.

Lehrer attended a school for children with impairments. “When you are surrounded with others like you, you are just a kid. You stop thinking you are different,” she recalled. The downside, however, was that kids at the time were not encouraged to imagine what they could be as far as a career, and high schools and colleges were not obligated to admit people with disabilities.

“The force of the message that I was a mistake was pretty powerful. By the time I was 12, I knew I was going to live in a body like this forever,” she said.

A resulting feeling of self-loathing persisted until her mid-30s, when novelist and disability rights activist Susan Nussbaum invited her to meet with a group of artists in Cincinnati. Lehrer reluctantly agreed to go and found it a life-changing experience.

“The sight of a lot of disabled people who were not hiding, and who were also funny and bright, gave me a way to understand my life and not just endure it,” she said.

The group showed Lehrer that disability is an opportunity for creativity and resistance. Finding inspiration and empowerment from people in the group, Lehrer asked them if she could paint their portraits. Even though she worked in portraiture, she “was very aware that she never saw images of people with disabilities ever, in museums or classes, only in telethons. It was never anything good.”

Nowadays, she said, her main interest is how people deal with and survive stigmatization. These are at the forefront of the 65 images contained in her book. Among the works she shared at the talk were a charcoal portrait of Nomy Lamm, an amputee musician, political activist and director of Sins Invalid in the Bay Area; a charcoal image of Mat Fraser, a British actor, writer and performance artist who was a regular cast member in American Horror Story: Freak Show television series; and a painting of Liz Carr, a British comedian, broadcaster and international disability rights activist.

“There is such a story behind each of these people,” Lehrer reflected.

As for the title, Golem Girl, Lehrer revealed a lifelong fascination with monsters. “One of the things monsters do is that they break boundaries,” she said. “Dead and moving, animal, person, person and machine, there is always something that violates a boundary. I was thinking how much this is like disability, that people don’t understand the disabled body. They think it is not human in some way. It is treated like it is alien.”

Lehrer is a faculty member of the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, and an instructor in medical humanities at Northwestern University.

The discussion was moderated by book festival director Dana Camil Hewitt.

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

Shira Choir focus of lecture

Reverend Hazan Daniel Benlolo (photo from Kolot Mayim)

“To repair the often-shattered world, I cannot think of a better way than to give a voice to those less heard,” said Reverend Hazan Daniel Benlolo, leader of the Montreal Shira Choir, a vocal ensemble comprised exclusively of people with physical and intellectual challenges.

Benlolo was speaking at a Feb. 13 lecture co-hosted by Montreal’s Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue and Victoria’s Kolot Mayim Reform Temple during Jewish Disability Awareness and Inclusion Month, or JDAIM.

Born in Morocco, Benlolo settled with his family in Canada in the 1970s and became the cantor of Montreal’s Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue at the age of 17. He is also a rabbi and an artist who, among other things, designs ketubot (Jewish marriage contracts). Despite his many hats, Benlolo’s true passion, as evidenced throughout his talk, is to provide a stage for those who have seldom been listened to, accepted or appreciated in the community.

While working in Ottawa in 2002, he helped lead the Tamir Neshama Choir, which toured throughout Canada, the United States and Israel.

“It really inspired me and opened my eyes to a new life that I never explored before. To be able to spend time with people of special abilities made my life that much better in so many different ways,” Benlolo said of his Ottawa experience, for which he received a Governor General’s Caring Canadian Award in 2013.

The move back to Montreal came a few years ago. There, Benlolo and his wife Muriel Suissa founded the Shira Choir in 2019, with the assistance of Federation CJA and the Jewish Community Foundation of Montreal. The choir, made up of singers from many cultural backgrounds, performs a wide range of music, from liturgical to Broadway and pop.

Not long after the choir’s formation, the pandemic struck in early 2020. Nevertheless, Benlolo has managed to keep the music playing through Zoom rehearsals and socially distanced visits with choir members.

Benlolo stressed that, too often, people with special needs come in and out of our lives, without our taking the time to engage with them. His simple request to the Zoom audience was “to take the time,” as “it could make a world of difference.”

“They teach me more than I could ever teach them,” is the view Benlolo expresses regularly, saying there is no way to place a value on these relationships.

He emphasized the importance of not patronizing anyone in the choir. That is, audiences should give them a standing ovation only because members of the choir deserved one for the quality of their singing, not for the act of performing itself.

“They have hopes and aspirations. Some are going to fulfil them, some are not,” asserted Benlolo.

The future for the choir, he declared, is to continue to spread love, positivity, inclusion and the sense of community, but not tolerance, a word to which he has a particular aversion. “I don’t want to tolerate you, I want to love you. I want to count you in the community as a full member,” he said.

“We want to continue building from here,” he added. “It can only come to fruition if everyone puts in some effort. Just a little bit of an effort, the results will be so satisfactory, both for the individual and the community, [and] we will learn some new things, we will learn a way of life, that for so long has been hidden.”

Benlolo’s talk covered the recently premièred documentary Just As I Am, which can be viewed on CBC Gem (gem.cbc.ca/media/absolutely-canadian/s21e26). The film, a profile of the adults with special needs in the choir, explores the universal language of music and its ability to transform lives.

Benlolo also presented two short videos, both available on YouTube, showing members of the Shira Choir singing Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” and Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah.”

In his concluding remarks, Benlolo urged the audience to not look upon those who are differently abled as “different” in a pejorative sense. “Different is great,” he said. “Different is beautiful. There is so much untapped talent out there that I am always in search of these people who are hidden gems.”

The Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue in Montreal is the oldest in Canada, tracing its history back to 1760, when the first Jewish settlers arrived in Quebec, making it as old as the province itself.

Now in its 14th year, JDAIM is a unified effort among Jewish organizations and communities throughout the world to build awareness and foster inclusion of people with disabilities and those who love them.

Benlolo’s presentation was the fifth in Kolot Mayim’s six-part series on the theme of Building Bridges: Celebrating Diversity in Jewish Life. The final session in the series features Indigenous artist Patricia June Vickers and Rabbi Adam Cutler of Adath Israel Congregation in Toronto, which is co-sponsoring the event. The topic on March 20, 11 a.m., is An Indigenous and Jewish Dialogue on Truth and Reconciliation. To register, visit kolotmayimreformtemple.com.

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

Stepping back from abyss

Daniel Sokatch, New Israel Fund chief, urges openness to narratives of both peoples. (photo from JCC Jewish Book Festival)

The experiences of Jews and Arabs in the area between the Jordan and the Mediterranean are complex and both peoples deserve to have their stories understood, according to a leading voice of progressive Zionism.

Daniel Sokatch was the keynote speaker at the closing event of the 2022 Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival Feb. 10. Sokatch is chief executive officer of the New Israel Fund, a U.S.-based nonprofit funding Israeli civil and human rights organizations and initiatives, which also engages in reconciliation and conflict resolution efforts between Israelis and Palestinians. He shared reflections from his new book Can We Talk About Israel? A Guide for the Curious, Confused and Conflicted, which was illustrated by Christopher Noxon.

“Over my years of service at NIF as the chief executive officer – I’ve been there for over 13 years now – I witnessed personally the discourse about Israel become more heated, more vituperative, more emotional and less fact-based,” Sokatch said. He wrote the book to give average people “a GPS to the conflict that would help them negotiate their own relationship to this complex issue.”

Israel was at the edge of an abyss before the new eight-party coalition government was sworn in last year, Sokatch said.

“This government is a Frankenstein’s monster made up of parties of the right, centre, left and Arab community that shouldn’t work but does work because enough people from all parties, except for the hard right-wing parties, knew that Benjamin Netanyahu was leading Israel over a cliff,” he said. “That was my editorial opinion but it is also the rationale for this government.”

A chunk of the Israeli public realized that Netanyahu was moving Israel toward neo-authoritarianism and a “democracy recession,” said Sokatch. This was exemplified, in part, by moves to abrogate the country’s balance between its Jewish and its democratic identities, he said.

“Israel passed a series of laws – most of them, I think it’s important to note, passed only barely – that really reduce the standing of Arab citizens of Israel to something that looked a lot more like second-class citizenry,” said Sokatch. “The worst of these laws was something called the Nation-State Law.… The Nation-State Law essentially said to Arab-Israeli citizens, you may have the right to vote but only Jewish citizens of the state have the right to what the law says is ‘self-determination.’… It stripped Arabic of its official language status…. The only reason you do things like that is if you want to throw red meat to your base and make a statement to the minority about where they stand. Anyone who has been to Israel recently – and by recently I mean at any point during its entire existence as a state – knows that the Jewish character of Israel is under no threat. In that sense, the alarm raised by Netanyahu and that Nation-State Law was like [former U.S. president Donald] Trump’s Muslim ban. It was a draconian solution for a problem that doesn’t actually exist.”

Reuven Rivlin, who was president of Israel at the time, acknowledged that he was obligated to sign the bill into law, but promised to sign in Arabic, which he did as a symbol of protest.

Sokatch addressed the recent Amnesty International report that accuses Israel of operating an apartheid system. He said that any honest and fair-minded left-wing observer who traveled the length and breadth of Israel would recognize that the apartheid label does not fit. But, he added, any honest and fair-minded right-wing observer who traveled the length and breadth of the West Bank would see things that could legitimately justify the terminology.

“I happen to think that the Amnesty report is deeply flawed,” he said. But, on the flip side: “To dismiss it all as antisemitism is to, like an ostrich, stick your head in the ground and ignore the reality of the problem.”

If Jews worldwide are held responsible for Israel’s actions, that is antisemitic, he said. Likewise, if Israel is depicted as a tentacled monster controlling the world, or if Jews are depicted as clannish, disloyal and the embodiment of “cosmic evil,” these are examples of antisemitism. The hostage-taking at a Texas synagogue in January is another example.

“Why did the guy go to a synagogue, instead of a church or McDonald’s or wherever?” Sokatch asked. “He went to the synagogue because he thought the Jews could get him what he wanted. He thought that we were so powerful in the United States that we could pick up the phone and tell Joe Biden to let the person he wanted let out of jail let out of jail. When criticism of Israel engages in those tropes, you can bet your life it’s antisemitism.”

But these examples of bias should not blind people to the legitimate criticisms being leveled against Israel, he warned. He hopes his book will open up more dialogue.

“Too often, I think, we are afraid to talk about the hard things,” he said. “What is the role of Israel’s Arab citizenry? What is the relationship between the U.S. and Israeli Jewish communities, the two largest Jewish communities in the history of the world? What is the deal with the settlements? Is Israel an apartheid state? What is the boycott, divestment and sanctions movement? I didn’t want to shy away from those things. But I also felt strongly that, in order to have an intelligent conversation about them, or to hold informed opinions about them, you have to know what you’re talking about.”

The first half of his book is mostly straightforward history, he said, with his analysis in the second half. He encourages a more fluent understanding of the narratives of both peoples.

“These are two peoples, Israelis and Palestinians, Jews and Arabs, who have been victims of the world, of each other and of themselves,” said Sokatch. “I felt that it was important to hold both of their stories with compassion and curiosity and concern, and to acknowledge that both parties have legitimate claims to this little place between the Mediterranean Sea and the Jordan River. Both of these peoples have real histories of trauma and persecution and both of them have stories that help them understand who they are and where they are in the world and their connection to this place, and I wanted to tell those stories rather than just one of the stories.”

Sokatch appeared virtually in conversation with Dana Camil Hewitt, director of the book festival. Rikki Jacobson, chair of the festival committee, welcomed the audience and thanked the speaker.

Seven decades of poker evolves

A screenshot of Morley’s Minyan playing poker. Top row, from left: Al Hornstein, Larry Moscovitz and Carolyn Aronson. Middle row, from left: Lyall Levy, Murray Atnikov (the night’s big winner) and Macey Morris. Bottom left is Tony Aronson. Missing are Steve Bernstein, Joel Finkelstein, Marshall Cramer and Irv Sirlin. (image from Carolyn Aronson)

In 1948 or 1949, a group of Jewish students at the University of British Columbia started a weekly poker game. While none of the original players remain, the regular game has continued, with a few interruptions, for more than 70 years. Now, children of some of the earliest members are joining – and the “young” card players are themselves middle aged.

Murray Atnikov, now 97, joined the poker game around 1960. He enjoys playing, but it’s the kibitzing that keeps him coming back.

“The company is very, very jovial, to say the least,” said Murray. “We have a good time.”

The march of time means the faces have changed, but the endurance of the game has been remarkable. It started out as a weekly event, though it went to biweekly when the Vancouver Canucks joined the National Hockey League in 1970. Since the pandemic began, they have played via an online poker platform.

“The continuity is something that amazes me,” said Murray.

Lyall Levy, a retired family doctor who is 85, joined the group in 1964. In those days, the games rotated among the players’ homes. The players were all men and the wives would outdo one another preparing refreshments.

“It would be like going to a high-end Jewish restaurant,” Lyall said. His daughter, Carolyn Aronson, recalls having extra-special lunches the day after poker nights.

Carolyn, now 60, broke the gender barrier when she became the first female to join the men’s game. She is one of four members who are a generation younger than the other players. Her husband, Tony Aronson, also plays. Joel Finkelstein joined the game when his father, Norty, passed away, and Larry Moscovitz took the place of his late father, Bill. The others range from 81 to Murray, at 97.

As the players (and their wives) got older, they moved the games to the Richmond Golf and Country Club, to which they hope to return as soon as the COVID situation makes it reasonable to do so. When some wives complained that the men were driving home on dark winter nights, they moved the games to the afternoon, followed by noshes in the restaurant.

The group never had a name or any formal structure, but after Morley Koffman, a Vancouver lawyer who was a founding player, passed away in 2015 at age 85, they dubbed themselves Morley’s Minyan in his honour.

The players and their families formed tight bonds. Morley, a meticulous record-keeper, would hold back some of the cash from the kitty each week to put toward an annual group golfing and eating excursion in Seattle with spouses.

“I think that appeased the wives because they got to go to Seattle and go shopping or whatever,” speculated Carolyn.

While her husband joined the game in person before the pandemic, she came in only after it went online.

“They’ve never said no girls but there’s never been a woman in the game before,” she laughed. She’s not sure she’ll be invited when they return to live games.

“When we go back to live, she will be there,” her husband insisted. “The other guys will want her there, trust me.”

Her father foresees some potential gender conflicts, though.

“The problem with adding women is, I can think of at least two others whose wives are better players than their husbands,” said Lyall. Another issue, he said, is that some wives may not know how much money their husbands have been losing all these years.

It’s a friendly game – for the most part. Lyall shared tales of sharp competitiveness, referring to some players as “archenemies.”

His daughter downplayed the sharp elbows, insisting it’s all fun and games.

“It’s all fun and games to watch them get at each other,” her father retorted. “There was a lot of hostility between one player and the next. I could tell you some stories.”

“They like ripping each other,” conceded Carolyn, “especially my dad and Murray, they’re old friends.”

When Murray makes a big raise, Lyall studies his opponent’s face.

“I can tell – when his lip starts to quiver, he’s bluffing,” Lyall said. This puts Lyall at a disadvantage in the online game, where faces are obscured and quivering lips are undetectable.

screenshot - Morley’s Minyan as their avatars playing on Pokerstars — Morley’s Minyan as their avatars playing on Pokerstars. *(image from Carolyn Aronson)*

The Aronsons used to jet off regularly to Vegas to play the game. When Lyall invited his son-in-law to join about four years ago, he warned him that the group takes things seriously.

Tony acknowledged, “When Lyall first invited me to join, he said to me, ‘Tony, you gotta think about whether you want to play.’ I said, ‘I can handle it.’”

But joining a group already (long) in progress involves some adjustments.

“I said, ‘What games do you play?’” Tony recalled. “He said, ‘It’s dealer’s choice. You can play any game you want.’ I said, ‘Oh good, that’s nice.’ The first game I arrived at, it came around to me and I said, ‘OK, we’ll play Omaha.’ ‘No, no. We don’t play Omaha.’ So I said, ‘OK, how about Three-card Monte?’ ‘Nope, we don’t play that.’ I said, ‘I thought it was dealer’s choice.’ They said, ‘It is. Seven or five card stud, whichever one you want.’”

The games are not penny ante, but nor are the pots nothing. A hundred or a couple of hundred bucks may be at stake but the bragging rights are the real jackpot.

Recently, Murray had a big win.

Carolyn said, “I heard my dad talking to him two days later and he said, ‘I’m still walking four feet above the ground.’ He’s phoning everybody he knows to say that he won at poker.”

For the longer-term players, these connections constitute decades-long friendships.

“Some of these people he’s maintained the relationships with them for 50, 60 years,” said Carolyn.

Added Tony: “For the younger generation – Larry and Joel and Carolyn and myself – it’s just been an amazing way to connect with these people in a way that we probably couldn’t have before and it feels good that, during COVID, we have been able to put them together and give them the joy of something that they love that they couldn’t do.”

“It’s always an entertaining evening,” Lyall said, “no matter whether you’ve won or lost.”

Grateful for ability to play

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The joys of parchment paper

Greek sheet pan chicken, using a recipe from the website Downshiftology. (photo by Shelley Civkin)

I know it’s pretty laughable that I only discovered parchment paper a few years ago, but there’s always someone late to the party. Parchment paper is your friend, and it’s so ridiculously versatile and handy, I can’t believe I baked without it for all these years! (Although, having been single until I was 53, I must admit to not having baked much in those years.) I even turned my husband Harvey onto it. Now he uses parchment paper for everything. I caught him the other day trying to make a fruit salad on parchment paper. We buy the stuff by the truckload now. It saves on clean up, eliminates the possibility of burned pans, and withstands high heat. Plus, it contains some sort of magic that results in perfect meals every time. Seriously, I haven’t had a fail since I became a parchment paper convert. I know. Crazy, right?

My latest foray into culinary exploration using parchment paper was Greek sheet pan chicken. Harvey tried the recipe first, and it scored a 10/10. Weeks later, he asked me if I wanted to make it and, quite frankly, I couldn’t say no. After all, he’s been making me pancakes for breakfast three times a week, so I was hardly in a position to negotiate. I was just worried that I wouldn’t be able to replicate it. But I sucked it up, donned my Disclosure Diner apron and got on with it. Without a word of a lie, this recipe produces the most juicy, harmonious flavours I’ve had in eons. And there was virtually no clean up – winner, winner chicken dinner.

The recipe is from the website Downshiftology, and it’s by Lisa Bryan. Thank you, Lisa. It’s a wee bit labour-intensive, with all the chopping, mincing, dicing and marinating, but what isn’t time-consuming these days? Caveat: the original recipe calls for feta cheese, but since I don’t mix meat and milk, I omit that. Believe me when I tell you that there’s plenty of salt in this recipe already. Feta compli! Just cook up a side of rice, orzo, quinoa or bowtie pasta and you’re set. Oh, and maybe whip up a salad if you’re feeling inspired.

Now, I know that lots of people prefer the leaner white chicken meat, but thighs are just more tender and moist. You can be the judge, but I can’t be responsible for the cooking time for chicken breasts, so you’re on your own there.

Give this recipe a go, and tell me if this isn’t Mediterranean cooking at its best. I generally have a rule to not use recipes that call for more than five or six ingredients, but I made an exception here, and it paid off in spades.

GREEK SHEET PAN CHICKEN

1/2 cup olive oil
juice of 1 1/2 lemons (about 3 tbsp)
4 garlic cloves, minced
2 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
6 chicken thighs, bone-in, skin-on
1 medium zucchini, halved lengthwise and sliced
1 yellow bell pepper, chopped into 1-inch pieces
1 red bell pepper, chopped into 1-inch pieces
1/2 large red onion, thinly sliced
1 pint cherry or grape tomatoes
1/2 cup kalamata olives, pitted (more, if you love olives)
1/4 cup feta cheese (optional)
2 tbsp finely chopped fresh parsley

Preheat oven to 425°F. In a small bowl, whisk together the oil, lemon juice, garlic, oregano, thyme, Dijon mustard, salt and pepper.
Put chicken thighs in a bowl (or plastic bag) and pour two-thirds of the marinade on top. Then toss the chicken around in the marinade to make sure it’s well coated. Marinate the chicken for 15 minutes or more.
While the chicken is marinating, put a piece of parchment paper on a baking sheet. Spread the zucchini, bell peppers, red onion and tomatoes onto the sheet and drizzle the remaining marinade on top. Toss together to coat the vegetables.
Add the chicken thighs to the baking sheet and nestle the veggies around them. Bake for 30 minutes.
Remove the baking sheet from the oven, add the olives (and feta, if you’re using it) and then put it back in the oven for another 10 to 15 minutes, or until the vegetables are soft and the chicken is cooked through. You can always turn on the broiler for a minute or two at the end if you like the skin crispy.
Sprinkle the chicken and vegetables with finely chopped fresh parsley before serving.

Not only does this dish look gorgeous, but it’s got deep, rich flavour and the recipe is pretty easy to follow. Of course, if you’re serving it to company, it’ll take a bit of manoeuvring to transfer it to a platter because there are so many moving parts. But it’s a pandemic, so who’s having company over for dinner anyway?

Sometimes, I think to myself: do I really want to bother with all this dicing and chopping and slicing? Operative word: sometimes. This is a treat-yourself-to-a-sumptuous-dinner-and-stop-being-so-lazy kind of meal. Like my dad used to say: you’re the most important guest in your own home. Go nuts. Cook for looks. And taste. Like so many different meals, this one is just as good if not better the next day, since the flavours seem to marry overnight.

As for a pre-dinner treat, why not aim for easy but yummy. If you want to bump up the fanciness quotient a notch, make some toast points (crusts cut off), smear on some mayonnaise or egg mix, and top with caviar. I buy the inexpensive black lumpfish caviar for special occasions and it’s delish. It’ll impress the heck out of your partner, your guests, even yourself. And, you know what? You deserve it! Why should caviar be reserved just for New Year’s Eve or engagement parties? Those poor misunderstood fish roe – they deserve to be showcased all year round. If I weren’t afraid of all the judging that might accompany it, I’d eat caviar every day.

Another caveat: don’t eat this meal before you go for a blood test, because your sodium will be off the charts.

Shelley Civkin, aka the Accidental Balabusta, is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review. She’s currently a freelance writer and volunteer.

פרידה מאמא

לפני שנה נפרדתי מאבא (בן התשעים ואחת) שהיה חולה מאוד ונדבק בבית החולים בקורונה ונפטר לאחר מספר ימים. לא האמנתי זה יכול לקרות שוב בתוך שנה אאבד הפעם את אמא. היא הייתה בת תשעים ושתיים ובחודש הבא היינו אמורים לחגוג את יום ההולדת התשעים ושלושה שלה.

בראשית החודש (רביעי) אחי הודיע לי כי אמא נחנקה מאוכל והובהלה לבית החולים איכילוב שליד ביתה בתל אביב. התקשיתי להאמין לדבריו כיוון שאמא בת התשעים ושתיים הייתה בריאה וללא שום מחלות רקע. מספר ימים לפני שטילפן אלי דיברתי עמה והיא הייתה במצב רוח טוב. אני זוכר היטב כי בערב ראש השנה האזרחית היא הזמינה את השכנים לשתות שמפנייה כיאה לה.

רכשתי מייד כרטיס טיסה לישראל והודעתי לסמנכ”ל הכספים בחברה, שהוא המנהל האישי שלי, כי אני יוצא בטיסה דחופה לישראל, לאור מצבה הקשה של אמא. ביצעתי בדחיפות באותו יום את בדיקת הקוביד שעולה כאן מאתיים דולר, ולמחרת (חמישי) יצאתי בטיסה לישראל. לאחר עצירת ביניים ארוכה באמסטרדם, נחתי בתל אביב ביום שבת לפנות בוקר. אחריה מצאת מונית שהביאה אותי לבית אמי. אני מחזיק במפתחות ביתה מזה שנים רבות אך הפעם לא הצלחתי לפתוח את הדלת. הסתבר לי לאחר מכן שהיא החליפה את המנעול בדלת ושכחה לעדכן אותי. לא נותרה לי ברירה ובשעה ארבע לפנות בוקר חיפשתי מלון סמוך לביתה. במלון ויטל היה חדר ויצאתי בכיוונו מהר לאור השעה המאוחרת. המלון נמצא בצמוד לבית החולים איכילוב כך שאני אמצא קרוב לאמא, אמרתי לעצמי.

אחרי שינה חטופה של מספר שעות יצאתי לביקור ראשון בבית החולים בשבת אחר הצהריים. מצאתי את אמא מורדמת, מונשמת ומחוברת להרבה צינורות. מראה לא קל. הרופא התורן (בשם ניר) סיפר לי על מצבה הקשה ועל כך שחמצן לא הגיע לראשה במשך כעשרים דקות, ולכן הנזק שנגרם לה הוא אדיר ובעצם בלתי הפיך. הרופא העריך שמערכות גופה יתמוטטו והיא לא תחזור לחיים. לדבריו כל אפשרות אחרת תהיה גרועה הרבה יותר. וכך אכן קרה למחרת. ביום ראשון בשעה שבע וחצי בבוקר התייצבתי שוב בבית החולים. נכנסתי לחדר של אמא וכשאמרתי לאחות כי אני הבן שלה, פניה החווירו והסגירו הכול. אמא נפטרה כחצי שעה לפני שהגעתי לבקרה. נכנסתי כמעט להלם והתקשיתי להאמין לדברי האחות. אך כשראיתי שכל הווילונות סביבה סגורים הבנתי שזו המציאות. ביקשתי מהאחות לראות את פניה של אמא בפעם האחרונה. היא ביקשה מכל הנוכחים לעזוב את החדר למספר דקות. לאחר מכן הזיזה את הווילונות, ופתחה את השק בו אמא נמצאה. היה זה מחזה קשה ביותר שילווה אותי לאורך כל שארית חיי. ראיתי את פניה של אמא שלווים ורגועים ממש כמו מלאכית קטנה. אחרי מספר דקות עזבתי את מיטתה ויצאתי החוצה להתקשר לאחי ולבשר לו את בשורת האיוב: אמא שלנו נפטרה. הספקתי עוד לעדכן את בני המשפחה האחרים וביקשתי לעצמי מספר דקות של מנוחה.

ביום שני בצהרים נערכה הלוויה בבית הקברות האזרחי בקיבוץ מעלה החמישה. בני משפחה וחברים קרובים הגיעו וכיבדו את אמא שנקברה בסמוך לאבא. טקס הלוויה בניהולו של אחי לא היה קל ולכולנו עלו הזיכרונות מהאישה היפה ואלגנטית הזו, שרצתה כל אך להמשיך ולחיות, להנות מכל רגע, להמשיך לפגוש בני משפחה וחברים, לעשות ספורט, לצאת לארוחות, לקרוא ספר טוב. אמא הלכה עזבה אותנו בפתאומיות ולפחות כמעט ולא סבלה.

Remembering the Holocaust

Grade 7 students at Vancouver Talmud Torah light memorial candles to mark International Holocaust Remembrance Day. (screenshot)

Vancouver’s city hall, the Burrard Street Bridge and other landmarks around the city were lit in yellow light Jan. 27, as were buildings across the country, to mark International Holocaust Remembrance Day. The commemoration coincided with the 77th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz.

Yellow was chosen, said Vancouver Mayor Kennedy Stewart, to reflect the colour of the candles of remembrance being lit globally to mark the day.

“Antisemitism is on the rise around the world,” the mayor said before reading a proclamation on behalf of city council. “Vancouver has the opportunity to join with the Jewish community and all of our residents and Canadians from all walks of life in demonstrating our commitment to stand against antisemitism, hate and genocide.”

Stewart was joined by councilors Sarah Kirby-Yung, Pete Fry and Adriane Carr.

Kirby-Yung spoke of calls from constituents who have had swastikas drawn on their sidewalks or who have come across antisemitic graffiti in local parks.

“I’ve seen firsthand, when you go to work out at the gym or community facility, the need to post security guards, to have them at schools and daycares, at synagogues during times of worship,” Kirby-Yung said. “It takes all of us individually to stand up to discrimination. We need to continue to work together, collectively with our Jewish community, to ensure safety and inclusion for everybody.”

The Vancouver event was sponsored by the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs (CIJA), the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre (VHEC) and the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver.

Nico Slobinsky, Pacific regional director for CIJA, urged unity.

“Antisemitism is not just a Jewish problem, it affects us all,” he said. “Only by working together and standing up against antisemitism are we going to insulate all Canadians against the threat of hatred and racism in our society.”

Nina Krieger, executive director of the VHEC, noted that education about the Holocaust is at the heart of her agency’s mission.

“This mission is perhaps more urgent than ever as globally and in our own backyard we are encountering a rising tide of Holocaust denial and distortion,” Krieger said. “The latter includes actions or statements that seek to minimize, misrepresent or excuse the Holocaust. These assaults on the memory of the most well-documented genocide in history should raise alarms for all citizens of our diverse society. Online or offline, intentional or not, distortion of the Holocaust perpetuates antisemitism, conspiracy theories, hate speech and distrust of democratic institutions, all of which have reached new heights during the pandemic. Around the world, opponents of public health invoke Nazi policies to systematically persecute and murder Jews and others in order to depict themselves as victims and their governments as persecutors. Such outrageous comparisons are clearly inappropriate and deeply offensive to the victims and survivors of the Holocaust.”

Dr. Claude Romney, a child survivor from France, spoke of her father’s survival during 34 months in Auschwitz – an unimaginable expanse of time in a place where the average life expectancy was measured in days. (Romney’s experiences, and those of her father, Jacques Lewin, were featured in the April 7, 2017, issue of the Independent: jewishindependent.ca/marking-yom-hashoah.)

photo - Dr. Claude Romney, a child survivor from France, spoke at the local commemoration marking International Holocaust Remembrance Day on Jan. 27 — Dr. Claude Romney, a child survivor from France, spoke at the local commemoration marking International Holocaust Remembrance Day on Jan. 27. *(photo from VHEC)*

Prior to the streamed event, Grade 7 students at Vancouver Talmud Torah elementary school lit candles of remembrance. King David High School students Liam Greenberg and Sara Bauman ended the ceremony with a musical presentation.

Earlier, another ceremony was livestreamed from the National Holocaust Memorial in Ottawa. Emceed by Lawrence Greenspon, co-chair of the National Holocaust Memorial Committee, the event featured ambassadors and Canadian elected officials and was presented by CIJA, the National Capital Commission, the embassy of Israel in Canada and the Jewish Federation of Ottawa.

Shimon Koffler Fogel, chief executive officer of CIJA, said the day of remembrance is intended to be as much “prospective as it is retrospective.”

“As we remember, we also reaffirm our resolve to combat the hatred that still plagues our world today, perhaps more so than at any time since those dark days of the Shoah,” he said. “There is an urgent imperative to sound an alarm and refuse to let its ring be silenced. Hate is no longer simmering in dark corners, relegated to the discredited margins of civil society. It has, in many respects, increasingly asserted itself in the mainstream public square. It has become normalized.

“Countering hate speech is both a necessary and essential imperative to preventing hate crime,” he said. “So let us resolve, collectively here today and across this great country, to give special meaning to our remembrance by fulfilling the pledge, ‘never again.’”

Israel’s ambassador to Canada, Ronen Hoffman, told the audience that his grandmother’s entire family was murdered in the Shoah. He denounced the misuse of that history.

“Any claim, inference or comparison to the Holocaust that is not in fact the Holocaust only acts as a distortion to the truth of what happened to the victims,” he said. “Invoking any element of the Holocaust in order to advance one’s social or political agenda must be called out as a form of distortion and, indeed, denial.”

Germany’s ambassador to Canada, Sabine Sparwasser, noted that, in addition to the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, it was also recently the 80th anniversary of the Wannsee Conference, where the “Final Solution” was devised.

“No country has a greater responsibility to learn from the past and to protect the future than Germany,” she said. “Remembrance is the only option. This sacred duty is the legacy of those who were murdered and of those who survived the horrors of the Shoah and whose voices have gradually disappeared. The greatest danger of all begins with forgetting, of no longer remembering what we inflict upon one another when we tolerate antisemitism, racism and hatred in our midst.”

Other speakers included Ahmed Hussen, minister of housing and diversity and inclusion; the American ambassador to Canada, David L. Cohen; Mayor Jim Watson of Ottawa; Andrea Freedman, president and executive director of the Jewish Federation of Ottawa; and Dr. Agnes Klein, a survivor of the Holocaust.

Festival opener wows

A still of one of the humorous (and relatable) moments in Image of Victory, which is part of this year’s Vancouver Jewish Film Festival.

The Vancouver Jewish Film Festival opening night film is the epic Image of Victory, directed by Avi Nesher. It’s not with grandiosity that the movie leaves its mark, though there is some of that, but rather with the quiet moments of humanity it so movingly depicts.

Sombre piano music over which one can hear missiles flying, bombs exploding, wind blowing are heard as the initial credits are shown, modest white lettering on a black background, nothing showy. “There are moments when you try to make sense of your life,” begins the narrator, as black-and-white footage of a shot-out building appears, then a jeep, soldiers with rifles pointed, tanks. “You wonder if you made good use of the time God gave you on this earth. You seek someone to compare yourself to. Someone you think truly lived.”

For Egyptian journalist and filmmaker Mohamed Hassanein Heikal, that person is Mira Ben-Ari, though he doesn’t know her name or anything about her at the time. It is the image of her from decades ago that he cannot forget – battle-worn, staring down the Egyptian forces, she smiles, she takes out a gun and shoots. Cut to an older Hassanein, in his study, depressed and angry, watching the TV news about Israel and Egypt’s peace agreement, after decades of war. Was all the fighting and all the death it caused in vain? He blames himself for not having the courage to expose Egypt’s president as a traitor for making the peace deal. He idealizes Mira’s bravery and purpose, thinks back to when he was 24, and fearless – when he was assigned to document Egypt’s military operations against the soon-to-be-reestablished Jewish homeland.

Inspired by the Battle of Nitzanim in June 1948, in which the kibbutz was destroyed by Egypt, Image of Victory imagines what it might have been like on both sides of that conflict. Both Mira and Hassanein are based on real people, as are other characters in the film, and this movie is about a near-mythological event. The voiceover, the black-and-white footage, the fancy costumes of New Year’s Eve revellers in Cairo, idealistic kibbutzniks, zealous army commanders. Any one of these elements could have slipped into a larger-than-life portrayal, but director Avi Nesher shows restraint – and a valiant attempt at balance that has an air of realism, though the kibbutzniks are admittedly more developed entities.

The majority of the film takes place in chronological order, six months out from the battle. When we first see the kibbutzniks working the dusty land, they are doing so under occasional fire from the Egyptian farmers who were displaced after their landlord sold said land to the Jews. The rules of engagement are fascinating. After one altercation, the Egyptians yell to the kibbutzniks that they are all done on their side, and the Jews cease their fire so that both sides can safely collect their wounded and dead.

In the midst of the tension, life goes on in the kibbutz – there are broken hearts and newly starting relationships, there is joyous singing, dancing and piano playing, there is hard labour, there is frolicking on the beach. But underlying all the apparent normality is the hyper-reality of mortality, both because many of the residents and their recently arrived Haganah protectors are Holocaust survivors, as well as the threat of Egyptian attack. As one young soldier tells Mira, “You’d think it’s paradise if being here wasn’t risking death.”

After a brutal attack on a truck carrying supplies to the kibbutz, the Egyptian commander doesn’t want Hassanein to film the emptying of the truck of its supplies because it looks like they’re stealing. Perception is Hassanein’s constant battle – what he is being told to film and what he really wants to film. For example, during a lull in the fighting, he makes a film about two Arab villagers falling in love, which is trashed by the producer who hired him. People don’t want to watch that, yells the producer, they want war.

After the Egyptian forces are repelled by the newly declared state of Israel, Hassanein is ordered to film an Egyptian victory, so that King Farouk can save face. The enormity of the Egyptian army descends on Nitzanim, which Israel’s leaders – for ideological reasons encapsulated by the character of (real-life) commander Abba Kovner – have abandoned.

While the kibbutz’s children (including Mira’s young son) and some of the adults were evacuated or assigned to other defence tasks, the rest of the residents and soldiers were left to fend for themselves, vastly outnumbered. The real-life outcome is known: more than 30 kibbutz members and soldiers were killed, more than 100 taken prisoner. What Nesher’s film offers is an idea of the ambitions, the loves, the fears, and more, of some of those who were at the ground level, caught in a situation not entirely of their making.

The acting is phenomenal – adeptly showing the interplay of diverse characters, with their own senses of humour, their own past traumas, their own desires, their own measures of victory. The characters are more than stereotypes and the stories more nuanced than the ones we most often hear. Nesher wants us to be skeptical of national mythologies and of the media that help propel these misleading views, yet respectful of one another’s narratives, as complicated as they may be and no matter how divergent they may be from our own. It’s perhaps an impossible ask, but some ideals are worth dying for – or are they?

Image of Victory director Avi Nesher and producer Ehud Bleiberg participate in a live Q&A on March 6, 11 a.m. The Vancouver Jewish Film Festival runs March 3-13. For tickets: vjff.org.

When to call in, call out

Truckers and others ostensibly contesting government pandemic responses have laid siege to downtown Ottawa. In reality, the protesters seem to have a panoply of grievances, many of which manifest as antisemitic, racist, sexist and just plain obnoxious.

Those noxious traits spread across the country last weekend, as satellite protests took place in Vancouver and other cities. In Toronto, a handbill was distributed declaring that “every single aspect of the COVID agenda is Jewish,” followed by a litany of other antisemitic declarations. This is on the heels of the appearance of swastikas and confederate flags at protests, the appropriation of Holocaust imagery by anti-vaxxers and other inappropriate expressions from COVID skeptics.

The defence, such as it is, from organizers and supporters is that these cases are incidental, represent a minority within the movement and, in effect, should be ignored.

Racism, antisemitism and other forms of hatred should never be dismissed or overlooked. Ideas and images like these must be identified, isolated and removed from any movement that wants to be taken seriously by Canadians. It is no less abhorrent to march alongside people carrying a swastika flag than it is to carry a swastika flag.

Some cases, like waving the Nazi flag, are clear cut and easy to call out and condemn as antisemitism. Other cases, like (we suspect) Whoopi Goldberg’s, are more nuanced. Goldberg’s statement that the Holocaust was not “about race” set off a frenzy. As if more fuel was needed, a jokey recipe she submitted to a cookbook decades ago, called Jewish American Princess Fried Chicken, conveniently resurfaced. All of this seems to have opened a floodgate of previously muted concerns about Goldberg’s appropriation of a Jewish last name and even Jewish identity. Goldberg was called out and suspended for two weeks by her producers.

In fact, Goldberg may have been expressing some combination of contemporary “progressive” understandings of race, which sees a hierarchy of oppression based on skin colour. Before we get too self-righteous about the state of racial dialogue today, remember that a couple of generations of Jewish Americans and Canadians have spent a great deal of effort to downplay differences between ourselves and the (white) majority. There is genuine confusion about Jewishness as a religion, a peoplehood and a racialized group. While it should not always fall on minority communities to school others on issues of identity, neither should our default be to assume ill-will when confusion or ignorance remain possibilities.

While people who wave swastikas may be irredeemable, people like Goldberg – who has expressed solidarity with the Jewish community to the extent that she has said, “I just know I am Jewish” – are a different story. She may be misguided about where Jews fit into today’s conceptions of race and identity, among other things, but her flailing in the midst of the controversy suggests she is confused, not hostile.

There is an alternative to “calling out.” There is a term – “calling in” – through which the opportunity is taken to educate someone who has made an unfortunate remark, to encourage them to learn and adjust their outlook. The process has the potential for turning enemies (or perceived enemies) into allies – and it has worked wonders in countless cases.

Acknowledging intent is critical. Goldberg’s words were poorly chosen and she needs some education. People who wave swastika flags are on another level. Putting on a yellow star because you are asked to vaccinate for the health of yourself and others is contemptible. Handing out flyers blaming COVID on the Jews is as antisemitic as words get. There is a time for calling in and a time for calling out.

The organizers and supporters of the trucker protests need to call out the bad seeds among them. The legitimacy of any movement – whether it be against vaccines, for the rights of a group of people, for protection of the environment, or for whatever other cause – depends on well-intentioned members acknowledging and addressing the presence of those who are motivated by less well-intended objectives, not ignoring them.

And this brings us back to us. It is fine, indeed correct, to call out the hypocrisies of our critics and those with whom we disagree. But we have all been in conversations around the dinner table, on social media, in private messages and emails, where our friends, relatives or guests have expressed unacceptable ideas about others, including fellow Jews who look different or who practise Judaism differently. Racism exists in every community.

If we ask other groups to be vigilant about intolerance in their communities – and to be willing to “call out” or “call in” various comments and actions – we should make sure our own house is in order. We cannot demand that others do this if we do not practise it ourselves. It applies to our critics and enemies. It also applies to ourselves and our friends.