Torah class marks 10 years

Rabbi Manis Friedman is the keynote speaker at Chabad Richmond’s celebration on June 1. (photo from Wikipedia)

On June 1, Chabad Richmond will mark 10 years of the weekly Torah studies class. A special event celebrating the past and launching the future will feature guest speaker Rabbi Manis Friedman, a renowned lecturer, counselor and author of several books and many articles. The topic is The Top 10 Reasons to Study Torah.

Starting in 2011 as a small group that met with Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman to discuss the weekly parashah (Torah portion), this assembly of retirees has grown to more than 20 people weekly.

“While not exclusively the domain of the retired, these weekly morning Torah classes mainly attract seniors,” said Baitelman. “Not only are local Richmond and Vancouver folks attending, but participants from Alberta and Quebec are joining virtually as well. During the pandemic, with more people working from home, we have some younger participants, too. Everyone is welcome.”

When the pandemic struck last year, Baitelman recognized the need for the continuity of Torah studies and immediately started offering classes via Zoom. These weekly classes have provided learning, but, more importantly, inspiration.

Richmond resident and longtime Chabad attendee Grace Jampolsky approached Baitelman back in 2011 and asked if he would offer a weekly Torah class. She gathered a few friends, and so began the 10-year tradition that is now a foundational part of the participants’ lives. The weekly class is a program of the Rohr Jewish Learning Institute of Richmond.

Acknowledging Chabad Richmond’s accomplishments to date, Baitelman said, “It’s all about celebrating our past learning and looking forward to growth and continued learning for the future. The continuity of weekly Torah study over 10 years is a real milestone. It represents thousands of hours spent studying the Torah portion of the week together, interactively, as a community of learners.”

As the participants attest, the classes have had a positive impact on expanding their Jewishness.

“If you were to ask me what the goals of the Torah classes are, I’d say it’s two-pronged goal – to increase class attendance and to share a love of Torah with our community,” said Baitelman.

Speaking with a few of the initial attendees, it became apparent that it’s not just the content of the classes that resonates with people, it’s Baitelman’s approach to teaching.

Ralph and Gina Blasbalg are two of the original members and, when asked how the classes have impacted their lives, Ralph Blasbalg said: “It’s always something to look forward to, especially when we’re cocooning during the pandemic. We don’t go out very much because we’re very vulnerable. The Torah lessons, the talks, the spirited wisdom of our rabbi – we are so lucky to have this rabbi in our community. Rabbi Baitelman is such a mensch, he’s just a wonderful human being.”

When asked how it’s enriched their lives, he added: “First of all, the knowledge that we are gaining, the knowledge about Torah, the knowledge about our community and the responsibilities that each one of us has to share and pay forward to the community. And the benefit that it gives to us, meaning that we have a sense of belonging, and we realize how our ancestors lived and how faith supported them through even worse times. We just have a pandemic – they had pogroms and illness and suppression and oppression … and, still, this faith, this Yiddishkeit, the manner of living by the Torah rules – the manual of life – is so important to us, for me, it’s definitely giving me that.”

Former participant Stevie Steiner said: “I was one of the first people in the group … and I attended for several years. I loved that class. It gave my life more meaning and purpose. If I went to the class tired, by the time it was over, I found myself so uplifted, or thoughtful. It made me look at things very differently, and very positively. Rabbi Baitelman always saw the glass half full, rather than half empty. It made quite a difference in my life actually. Rabbi Baitelman is a wonderful man and excellent teacher. He’s got a talent for getting the lesson across. The material was always very relevant. The rabbi was a very positive influence.”

Regular participant Maria Hughes said: “The weekly Torah classes have had a big effect on me. I’m from Russia, where there were no Torah classes, no nothing. I just knew I was Jewish because it was in my past, but I was discriminated against everywhere there. I went to live in Israel, but didn’t go to synagogue because I felt like an outsider and we didn’t know Hebrew. When I came to live in Richmond and started attending Chabad Richmond, I really started learning about Judaism and started feeling more and more proud of being Jewish…. It was like the puzzle came together. I started studying more and loving it. So I started talking to my daughter (who lives in Israel) about it a lot and we had different discussions. She was not religious at all … but, slowly, my daughter started keeping Shabbat and I think my influence was a big part of it. My talking about Judaism had a big effect on her. It affected not just me, but also my daughter and grandchildren. It affected a whole generation.”

Ezra Shanken, chief executive officer of the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver; Rabbi Efraim Mintz, executive director of the Rohr Jewish Learning Institute; and Sheldon Kuchinsky, board member of Chabad Richmond, will be present to offer greetings at the celebration of the class’s 10 years.

Guest speaker Friedman is the dean of Bais Chana Institute of Jewish Studies, the world’s first yeshiva exclusively for women. He hosts his own cable TV series, Torah Forum with Manis Friedman, which is syndicated throughout North America.

The event takes place at 7 p.m. on June 1 via Zoom at chabadrichmond.com/celebrate. Register online using the link, or call 604-277-6427. Everyone is welcome.

Shelley Civkin 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, including at Chabad Richmond.

Interactive history tour

To find out more about the history of Made in BC – Dance on Tour and its network of artists, visitors to madeinbc.org/history-project just have to hover over one of the images displayed and click on it. (screenshot)

It is easy, in Metro Vancouver, to take certain things for granted, such as access to live theatre, music and dance. But the pandemic, with its limits on social gatherings, has given urbanites an inkling of what smaller communities regularly experience. The relative scarcity of live performance in places like Prince George and Revelstoke is one reason that Made in BC – Dance on Tour was created in 2006. It is unfortunate, then, that Made in BC’s 15th anniversary falls in a time of travel and other restrictions. But that hasn’t stopped the organization from celebrating, and innovatively so.

Made in BC (MiBC) has collaborated with artist and graphic recorder Adriana Contreras to create an interactive online illustrated map “offering viewers the opportunity to take a visual and audio trip through the last 15 years of work, celebrating the numerous artists, presenters and community members that have been a part of this history.” Among these artists are Jewish community members Tara Cheyenne Friedenberg (Tara Cheyenne Performance), Amber Funk Barton (the.response), Naomi Brand (All Bodies Dance Project) and Vanessa Goodman (Action at a Distance).

“Especially in an art form that is so ephemeral, documentation is important not only for our personal memories, but for the history of the organizations and communities that we work with,” Brand told the Independent. “These kinds of records are really valuable for us to learn from what has happened before and to remember the accomplishments and discoveries that came before us. The map is a beautiful and creative way to write our history in the present while it is still relatively fresh in the bodies and memories of those who participated in it.

She added, “The field of contemporary dance in Canada is small enough that most of us are connected through a few degrees of separation that can be traced through our lineage of teachers, mentors and collaborators…. The map project represents all of that visually across the geography of this province.”

Cheyenne Friedenberg also spoke about the ephemeral, or temporary, nature of dance, making it hard to keep track of accomplishments.

“We spend much of our time and energy justifying and fighting for our art and art-making, it’s no wonder many of us don’t take time to reflect or celebrate the wake behind the boat,” she said. “It’s also very important to take note of what artists have brought to communities around the province and how these communities have influenced the art and the art makers. We are an ecosystem and it benefits all of us to appreciate how we have grown and developed as an artistic community. I know my work has been greatly influenced by my relationships across the province. I know folks who started making their own work after seeing a show or taking a workshop. I think part of the reason I’m still making work is because I feel part of this artistic ecosystem that is ever-evolving.”

Made in BC statistics show that, over the past 15 years, MiBC “has provided opportunities for over 50 dance companies incorporating over 200 dance artists to tour their work, reaching over 20,000 people around the province. And over 30,000 people have participated in and experienced the joy of other community-engaged dance activities, beyond the theatre.”

“MiBC as a network is about fostering relationships between artists, presenters, audiences and new communities,” said Brand. “As dance artists, we work with living, breathing, feeling people as our material (as opposed to clay, or an instrument, or paint brushes). This human-to-human, personal interaction is so important to what we do in the studio, as well as through emails and Zoom these days. We’re lucky to have an organization like MiBC that supports artists and has brought so many incredible experiences to communities across the province.”

Brand recalled one experience in particular. “In 2017,” she said, “my colleague Sarah Lapp and I did a residency through Made in BC at the Rotary Centre for the Arts (RCA) in Kelowna. It was our first experience touring with our company All Bodies Dance Project and bringing our artistic practice to a new community. We met such beautiful, courageous and lovely participants in the weeklong workshop and learned a lot about ourselves through sharing what we do with a new community. That residency had a huge impact on Sarah, who actually ended up relocating to Kelowna a year or so later, and beginning an integrated dance project in partnership with RCA with a collaborator that she met during that residency.”

Cheyenne Friedenberg first toured with MiBC in 2009, when the organization selected her first full-length solo work, bANGER, to tour along with Day Helesic’s piece Surge.

“I had toured a lot in the U.S., across Canada and Europe, but this was my first real experience taking my own work around the province,” said Cheyenne Friedenberg. “I was, and continue to be, very interested in connecting with the land and the people closer to home. Why have we as a culture believed touring Europe is more prestigious than touring the West Coast? It’s not. Since that first tour in 2009, I have toured, taught, created and learned around B.C. over half a dozen times and I can’t wait to get back out here!”

She said it was hard to pick just one MiBC experience that was especially impactful or memorable, so she offered two:

“1) Smithers, 2012: after seeing my solo Goggles, a couple (who are now my friends) were so taken by seeing me and my family (who I tour with) taking questions and, probably, breast-feeding after the show, that they decided to have a baby and continue to make art.

“2) Dolly Alfredson, a Wet’suwet’en language speaker and teacher shared many post-show thoughts with me, all in Wet’suwet’en. It felt very special. This was after my show I can’t remember the word for ‘ I can’t remember,’ in 2018.”

Contreras, who collaborated with MiBC in collecting and communicating these types of recollections from the dance artists, said her favourite part of the process was listening to all the stories, “getting a glimpse at a special moment in time from the many artists I had the pleasure to work with in part.”

It was Jane Gabriels, executive director of MiBC, who invited Contreras – in spring of 2020 – to be part of the 15th anniversary history project.

“I had just left my full-time job as director of programming and communications with New Performance Works Society to work as an independent graphic recorder, illustrator and designer,” Contreras told the Independent. “This was also around the time that COVID-19 was declared a pandemic and the province went on lockdown. Needless to say, this project was a bright light in a very uncertain moment.”

On the project, she worked closely with Gabriels, as well as Debora Gordon, MiBC manager of community dance connectors, statistics and promotions, and Zahra Shahab, a dance artist and choreographer who was the 2019 creative residency artist at MiBC.

“The process was one of collective discovery and experimentation,” said Contreras. “I knew that MiBC has a vast archive documenting the work of all the artists that have been part of its programs, but I wanted to go back to the essence, the aspect that makes MiBC so unique, the unifying element of supporting B.C.-based artists to present their work and connect with communities throughout the province; bring contemporary dance to audiences that don’t often get to experience it.

“During my time as an arts administrator supporting dance artists,” she continued, “I had heard many anecdotes and memorable stories that happened during MiBC tours. Many of these occurred in the theatre, others in the liminal space, on the road. Many others in everyday occurrences that nurtured community. We decided that these were the stories we wanted to highlight.

“MiBC reached out to artists and asked if they wanted to share their stories, which were audio-recorded to be featured on the website. We then chose an object to represent each of the stories, and those are the elements you see in the drawing, one for each artist or collective.”

She added, “Creating this work reminded me why I love the performing arts so much, and I can’t wait to sit in a theatre and experience live dance, theatre and music again.”

In the meantime, dance enthusiasts can take a virtual audiovisual trip through the province at madeinbc.org/history-project.

Summit on online hate

Martin Luther King III and Arndrea Waters King delivered the keynote address at the Action Summit to Combat Online Hate, April 14 and 15. The son and daughter-in-law of the late civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. have both been deeply involved for many years in fighting racism, antisemitism and all forms of discrimination.

The summit was organized by the Canadian Coalition to Combat Antisemitism, an initiative of the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs, and funded by the Government of Canada.

King reflected on the legacy of Black-Jewish alliances in the civil rights movement and quoted his late father’s words: “Rabbis of Jewish congregations took their places on the frontlines as the Old and New Testament ethic of social justice flamed with a fire that had once transformed the world.”

King has worked in Israel and Palestine, educating young people to advance nonviolent resolutions to conflict.

“It was a wonderful experience and everywhere I went I experienced great hospitality and kindness from the people of Israel,” he said. “My father and mother, Coretta Scott King, were very concerned about the spread of antisemitism, racism and all forms of hatred, prejudice and bigotry, particularly among young people. Both of my parents made a commitment to doing everything that they could to help educate people about their shared vision for greater interracial understanding, cooperation and goodwill. Long after my father was assassinated, my mother continued to speak out against antisemitism and remain active in building the Black-Jewish coalition of social justice and human rights in Atlanta and throughout the world.”

Waters King worked for years at the Centre for Democratic Renewal, an organization that monitors and reports on hate groups, also delivering a broad range of educational programs to combat hate groups in the spirit of nonviolence that empowered the American civil rights movement.

“I have learned that the proponents of hate never sleep and our struggle against racism, antisemitism and all forms of bigotry and prejudice must remain ever-vigilant. What we can and must do is declare war on the ignorance that fuels hatred and the only known and proven cure for ignorance is education.”

King spoke about the advent of technologies over the past decades that hate groups have used to disseminate their messages. “But let’s remember that this communications revolution we have all lived through also gives us powerful tools to combat online hate,” he said.

The summit also featured keynote presentations by Katharina von Schnurbein, European Commission coordinator on combatting antisemitism, and Steven Guilbeault, federal minister of Canadian Heritage. More than three dozen others participated in two days of sessions, lectures, workshops and panel discussions. The Kings’ presentation is available online at actionsummit.ca.

A love of the school’s stories

David Bogoch is keeper of the Vancouver Talmud Torah archives and chair of the school’s alumni fund. (photo from facebook.com/vttschool/photos)

David Bogoch is on the board of the Vancouver Talmud Torah Foundation. He is also the collector and keeper of the school’s archives. Previously, he was on the school’s board of directors for eight years – a position he took for a unique reason.

“At my dad’s shiva, the president of the board at that time, David Kauffman, tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I would be on the board at the school,” explained Bogoch about how he became involved. “At that time, with my father’s spirit in the room, I felt I had no choice but to say yes. Talk about timing.”

Dr. Al Bogoch was the guest of honour at Vancouver Talmud Torah’s 50th anniversary at its current location, in 1998. He was recognized for his more than 40 years of dedication to the school. He acted in many capacities over those years, including as president of the board of directors, as one of the founders of the VTT Foundation, which was established in 1974, and as a main driving force of four of the school’s expansions. On the occasion of the golden anniversary, the Alumni Endowment Foundation was launched.

In addition to his duties as archivist, David Bogoch is also chair of the school’s alumni fund.

“The board was portfolio driven, so I chose alumni,” he told the Independent. “I inherited the job from Carla van Messel. I figured it would be the least political and most fun. I knew at least 100 alum I could call and it all started from there.”

In going through the boxes in his father’s basement, Bogoch found tons of old Talmud Torah paperwork. “He had kept everything to do with his time on the board in the 1960s,” said Bogoch. “Other past presidents had given him their collections and, together, amassed a lot of what is in the archives today.

image - Vancouver Talmud Torah’s 50th anniversary, which honoured Dr. Al Bogoch, “Mr. Talmud Torah,” was the topic of this March 20, 1998, Jewish Western Bulletin article by Faith Bloomfield
Vancouver Talmud Torah’s 50th anniversary, which honoured Dr. Al Bogoch, “Mr. Talmud Torah,” was the topic of this March 20, 1998, Jewish Western Bulletin article by Faith Bloomfield.

“Today, the archive has thousands of photos and documents, from 1918 to the present,” he continued. “There are so many interesting stories which make up the 100-plus years of the school history. I looked up every issue in the library of the old Jewish Western Bulletin and the Jewish Independent to help tell the history of the school and the community of the times. Where would we be without the ability to search through the newspaper of old?”

While many stories have captured his interest, Bogoch said, “One story which caught my attention was in the board meeting minutes from 1944. The community wanted to build its own new Talmud Torah day school but were unable to because of lack of building supplies because of the world war. They also wanted to buy a school bus but couldn’t because of gas rations due to the war.

“Some people like jigsaw puzzles, others like bridge or golf,” he said. “My game of choice is the history of the school and all the people who either attended or were involved with the school. I love the good stories of friendship; I suffer when I hear the bad stories of tough times for students or parents or teachers. By knowing what has gone on in the past, I hope to impart those stories to the people of the present and the future, so we can try to avoid mistakes made before.”

Some of those stories are included in the one-hour documentary Vancouver Talmud Torah Onward: The 100-Year History. Written and directed by Bogoch’s son, filmmaker Adam Bogoch, the documentary was released in September 2017, as part of the school’s centenary celebrations. It can be viewed at youtube.com/ watch?v=ifoAqk3EKb0.

VTT obviously means a lot to David Bogoch, who also attended the school. “All of my lifelong friends came from Talmud Torah,” he said. “Most alum I come in contact with also share the same experience – our ties to the Jewish community stem from our shared experiences of school years. Between school, shul or camp, that is where we forge our community ties that bind.”

Bogoch is working toward making the VTT archives more widely accessible.

“The school,” he said, “is currently trying to put the photos and archival material on the school website so that everyone can search through and find the memories of their time, or of their family’s era.

From a singular perspective

Barb Choit’s “Ravenous Appetite and Boundless Energy” features a chimney swift that can only be recognized as such from one vantage point. (photo from Barb Choit)

Last October, in a year that could be considered one of the worst in history for artists overall, Vancouver artist Barb Choit completed a large public art project in Oakville, Ont. “Ravenous Appetite and Boundless Energy” is the image of a bird, a chimney swift, created from hand-drawn, coloured, lead-glass tubing filled with neon. It is installed in the Oakville Trafalgar Community Centre.

“Most public art projects are by invitation only. However, for this one, I responded to an open call put out by the Town of Oakville,” Choit told the Independent in an email interview. “With this process, the first step is to send a letter of interest describing your qualifications and approach. From that, a public art jury selects a smaller group of artists to create a design for an artwork, which is called a ‘concept proposal.’ Each artist makes a presentation of their proposal and one is selected to create their proposed project.”

Winning the competition, it took her one-and-a-half years to convert her original idea into the final installation, a bird in flight, soaring just under the ceiling of the community centre.

The chimney swift has special significance for the Oakville community, said Choit. “The work responds to the transformation of the adjacent, abandoned Oakville High School into a habitat for a colony of chimney swifts, a threatened migratory bird. Every year, residents of all backgrounds come to watch birds roost in the chimneys of the former school. The community’s galvanization around birdwatching inspired me to represent the chimney swift as an ‘artifact’ of the culture and spirit of Oakville.”

In Choit’s installation, visitors to the centre can only see a bird in the design from a certain perspective. If they look at it from other positions, all they see is a wriggle, written in shining neon.

photo - The sculpture appears abstract to viewers moving through the space. Yet, from a specific vantage point, a representation of a bird appears
The sculpture appears abstract to viewers moving through the space. Yet, from a specific vantage point, a representation of a bird appears. (photo from Barb Choit)

“For ‘Ravenous,’” she explained, “I used a display strategy employed by science and nature museums to spark the viewers’ interest in the natural world – an optical illusion, anamorphosis. It is a visual illusion in which an object is distorted so that it can only be recognized from a specific vantage point. The sculpture appears abstract to viewers moving through the space. Yet, from a specific vantage point, a representation of a bird appears. Many people find optical illusions particularly engaging. Creating a visually striking piece was crucial to engaging a multi-generational community. And the glowing yellow form complemented the space for which I was designing the work.”

The word “illusion” suits the chimney swift as a species. According to Wikipedia, during flight, the birds often appear to beat their wings asynchronously, but photographic and stroboscopic studies have shown that they beat them in unison. The illusion that they do otherwise is heightened by their speedy and erratic flying, with many rapid changes of direction.

Choit’s choice of medium for this work necessitated collaboration with the manufacturers of the neon-filled tube.

“Different projects require a different balance between collaboration and delegation,” she said. “My recent project uses neon, which requires a type of industrial fabrication that includes hazardous materials and live electricity. It wouldn’t be practical or advisable for me to carry out this part of the fabrication myself. However, one needs a grasp of how materials work in order to create a feasible design and communicate with fabricators.”

She compared it to the architectural process. “In order to design and build a successful building, an architect does not show up at the building site with a hammer and nails,” she noted. “However, she must know how a building is constructed, as well as the properties and possibilities of the materials used.”

As she has done for other works, Choit did extensive research for this installation.

“People know me for my photographic work, but I have worked in most mediums at one point or another,” she said. “Within my work, I look at how communities and individuals imbue objects with meaning. Most of my major projects involve cultivating collections and working with archives. I explore this theme in a variety of media, such as photography, installation, performance and sculpture. Recently, I have had commissions for 2-D and 3-D public artworks.”

photo - Artist Barb Choit
Artist Barb Choit (photo from Barb Choit)

Choit’s interest in collections is longstanding. She has a master of arts in critical and curatorial studies from Columbia University in New York. “At Columbia, I researched institutional frameworks for art,” she said. “I wrote my thesis on the history of collecting. This area of academic research still drives my work as an artist.”

Public art is a relatively new area for Choit and she is exploring the possibilities. “I primarily make works to be shown in galleries; it is only recently that I have moved into public art. I like public art because the projects can be much more ambitious than something that would be purchased by an individual. However, I still enjoy making smaller works that can be appreciated privately and I am open to larger site-specific commissions to be installed in privately owned buildings and outdoor spaces.”

She is planning to do more work in the public sector, despite the challenges. “Usually, public art projects are by invitation. There are also a few websites that list opportunities for artists to submit their qualifications, with the intention of being shortlisted to create a proposal for a specific project,” she said, noting the need to be wary of fraud.

“Artists need to be careful of websites that list art opportunities because there are dubious organizations out there to exploit them,” she said. “For example, some art ‘opportunities’ ask artists to pay a fee to be considered for a project. Artists should never pay a fee to have someone look at their work.

“Also, some organizations solicit full proposals from artists. Creating a proposal is an immense amount of work and a highly specialized skill. For legitimate public art calls, artists who are shortlisted to create a proposal are paid a fee for this work. I discourage any artist (or anyone, for that matter) from engaging professionally with an organization that expects unpaid work.”

Among Choit’s previous public works is the photographic project “Campaign,” a billboard series commissioned by the Capture Photography Festival in Vancouver in 2017. “It was a series of outdoor billboards based on my 2015 photography project where I remade Andy Warhol’s shoe Polaroids from the 1980s. I documented a collection of vintage women’s shoes using discontinued instant film and a vintage Polaroid camera from the era.”

Despite her extensive education, experience and obvious talent, Choit considers luck as one of the best ingredients for artistic success.

“Luck is crucial,” she said. “It is not necessarily about chance but infrastructure – family and community support, education, healthcare, even freedom of expression, can be just as crucial as talent and skill.”

Learn more at Choit’s website, barbchoit.com.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

On autism and being Jewish

My Jewish identity is something I have always grappled with. Attending Jewish day school, I felt not only like the outcast of my entire class, but of the entire school, and it took an enormous toll on my mental health.

My peers would always pose the question, “Why are you so weird?” or “Why are you so different?” and, at the time, I didn’t have the answers for them. When I bravely confronted them as adults, they wrote it off as “we were just kids” instead of sincerely apologizing.

As an adult, I still suffer from the effects that these words and actions had on my young, developing brain, though I realize that expecting those apologies is unrealistic. The ironic part of it all is that many of these people have gone into professions where they actively work with children. I sincerely hope that they have learned from their past and consider imparting the kindness and acceptance that I didn’t receive from them to the impressionable youth they are teaching.

Getting my autism diagnosis in 2018 was the catalyst for me to understand myself and make sense of my traumatic past and commit to creating the change I wished I had experienced when I was younger. I still hearken back to my youth, though – where, every single day, I was reminded of the biblical teachings that were supposed to impart good values. I didn’t experience that and that’s why I oftentimes grapple with my Jewish identity.

I identify as being a Jewish atheist, ethnically Jewish or a humanistic Jew. These terms prove challenging when I am attempting to express myself to other people and explain how being part of a minority group echoes a lot of the same sentiments and barriers that being openly autistic has had for me.

As part of the activism and outreach I have engaged in, I continually see harmful images being used. I also regularly experience how dismissive people – not just within the Jewish community, but everyone – are when I tell them these images remind me of the important work that still needs to be done.

For example, Autism Speaks is  a nonprofit organization that describes itself as being “dedicated to promoting solutions across the spectrum and along a life span for needs of people with autism spectrum disorder and their families.” It has, in collaboration with Google, a genome database called MSSNG. While their stated aim is to “speed the development of more effective and personalized interventions for autism and its associated health conditions,” there are many ethical issues with the collection of genetic material. And that a group like Autism Speaks (not to mention Google) is collecting these data concerns me, especially, because Autism Speaks has at least one video that personifies autism as an evil force – and only recently has the group stopped using the term “cure.” The change in language notwithstanding, their goal remains the same, and that is to eradicate autism. While this may seem laudable to some people, to me, the only way to reach that goal is to ensure that autistic people are not born. Autism should not be considered a disease, but rather as a neurotype.

A blue puzzle piece, with a little pink at the bottom, is part of the Autism Speaks logo. It is mostly blue because it was initially thought that only boys could be autistic, but a lot of women and gender-diverse individuals like myself are autistic. Colour aside, the puzzle piece symbolizes that something is broken or needs fixing, or that something is missing. I consider this narrative harmful, which is why I speak out against it.

I also find myself trying to correct those who attempt to dictate what is a “proper” way to communicate. To choose a communication style for someone else, when you don’t have the lived experience of being neurodiverse – and being frequently berated for the way you speak to others – is not acceptable. Unless you have experienced the hardships that come along with communication, then you should take the opportunity to learn before you speak. Knowing that not all disabilities are visible is an important thing to consider.

Within the autistic community, I have also had challenges when speaking my mind. For instance, I was accused of silencing the voices of Jewish people of colour when I expressed the opinion that being Jewish does not necessarily equate to being part of white privilege, a concept that is heavily debated in our community. I don’t profess to have all the answers, I am constantly learning and adapting to all the information that I am exposed to. But, to give an example of what I’m grappling with, I recently responded to an apology put forth by a prominent autistic activist, Lydia X.Y. Brown, who writes the Autistic Hoya Facebook page. They apologized for including “white Ashkenazi Jews” in a publication that was to centre on “racialized autism.” They specifically said, “We published a few people who are white Ashkenazi Jews and not Jews of colour or otherwise people of colour at all.”

I often wonder, as a Jew, where my place is, what I should be identifying as. For me, a big part of it is that I have faced antisemitism in my life and people have told me they can tell I am Jewish by my physical appearance. So, when someone makes a comment like Brown did – singling Jews out and making it seem like we are less than, while trying to simultaneously positively amplify the diversity of autistic people, it is hurtful.

My response to the post was a suggestion as to how the apology could have been worded more respectfully: “We included ethnic groups that some folks did not feel were appropriate for our publication. Moving forward, we will be more perceptive to the suggestions of others and pivot to be more inclusive and considerate to those we have overlooked.” This would have been more appropriate, rather than focusing on an ethnic group that already faces enough discrimination. I believe that singling out a marginalized group, no matter what the perceived colour of one’s skin, is inherently wrong.

In another situation, because of the controversy surrounding Judaism and whiteness, I felt I had to sever ties with an organization and some individuals who, instead of accepting my voice and agreeing to disagree with me, pointed out the hardships I had created due to my own personal struggles and attempt to grapple with my identity.

Being autistic is hard. Being Jewish is hard. Being both is even more difficult, and trying to navigate this world while being both is honestly not something I’d wish on my worst enemy. But, what I can do is use my voice and do as much good as possible with the cards I have been dealt.

I have been the recipient of two arts grants through the B.C. Arts Council and I actively create art, run an Etsy store (retrophiliac.etsy.com), have a website (navigatingjourney.com) and am all over social media. I strive to create a very open dialogue and provide a lot of free emotional labour, trying to have the conversation about being autistic. Parents of autistic children and those who purport to be our advocates need to support autistic adults, instead of co-opting our voices and acting like they know better. As far as autism is concerned, acceptance is more important than awareness, because the acceptance narrative is not one over which autistic people have control.

Margaux Wosk is a small business owner, content creator and artist living in the Greater Vancouver area. April was Autism Acceptance Month.

The magic behind kaytana

While Camp Miriam won’t be able to offer overnight camping sessions, it will once again be offering day camp experiences this summer. (photo from Camp Miriam)

I will never forget waking up in a puddle in the middle of the night, feeling water slowly dripping into my sleeping bag as I shivered and clenched my muscles, trying to maintain the tiniest shred of heat.

It was 2011, I was 14, and my kvutza (cabin group) was on a three-day hike that would take us through steep inclines and 30 kilometres of terrain. It poured every day and night, leaving us without a dry item of clothing by the first morning. We were wet, cold, blistered and exhausted. It was a miserable trip.

And we loved it.

On the final day, we emerged from the forest chanting a marching song and smiling with glee at what we had accomplished. To this day, I reminisce about this trip with that same giddy excitement.

And yet, I’ve always wondered, what allowed us to not only persevere, but to create a lifelong positive memory. Anyone who has spent time at Machaneh Miriam – the overnight Jewish summer camp on Gabriola Island – can attest to the magic each new summer conjures. The thing about magic is that we may not know how it works, but we know what it does. It’s what drove us forward, step by step through the mud with smiles and songs that summer. Everywhere you go at Miriam, you can feel the magic – from the building walls decorated with generations of camper art and poetry, to the dining hall filled with chanting and singing voices every lunch.

It’s the same magic that, last summer, propelled Miriam’s youth leadership to accomplish the seemingly impossible.

When the pandemic hit, these young leaders were several months into planning a six-week overnight summer camp on Gabriola. Not only did the pandemic erase months of hard work and preparation, it also posed a serious question: could camp’s magic exist outside of the island?

To most campers and staff, Miriam and Gabriola are inseparable. As the rosh (camp director), Marina Levy, said, “At Camp Miriam, we are connected to our community, to Gabriola and to our traditions.”

Envisioning a summer away from Gabriola was a daunting task. But, the tzevet (staff) rose to the occasion, creating not one, but three kaytanot (day camps) – one each in Vancouver, Victoria and Portland. By summer’s end, more than 200 campers, 60 staff and a whole bunch of parents resoundingly affirmed that camp’s magic can exist off of Gabriola.

To understand the importance of the kaytana, it is necessary to consider the context. At a time when campers had been confined to their homes and separated from their friends for months, the news that overnight camp was not happening came as a severe blow.

The immediate effect of the pandemic on kids’ mental health was profound. Research by SickKids hospital in Toronto showed that, in just the first three months of the lockdown, a majority of children showed a serious deterioration in their mental health.

According to Camp Miriam parents, the kaytana helped their kids overcome some of that stress. One parent said, “Last June, our daughter was really struggling with the impact of COVID on her life, it was significant. Camp Miriam’s summer camp in Vancouver brought her back to herself again. A combination of the social component, the programming and empowerment she felt, and the sense of purpose in her life helped her rediscover herself and revive herself.”

Another parent observed a change in her son after just one day. “I  almost cried hearing him talk about it,” she said. “I think it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to say it was a transformative experience.”

Counselor Rakeea Gordis said that, during the weekly Shabbat tradition where campers sit together and reflect on their week, “At least one, but usually up to five kids would say that they were devastated that today, Friday, was the last day of the kaytana for the week.”

So, how did the staff manifest the magic of overnight camp in day camps far from the quiet comfort of Gabriola? A huge amount of credit goes to the youth leadership who worked long days and then late into the night throughout the summer creating kishutim (decorations) for special days, planning peulot (educational activities) and even burying items for a treasure hunt the following day.

Financially, none of this would have been possible without the support of the camp’s community and the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver, who stepped up at a time of extreme need, as well as the Grinspoon Foundation and the Heller Memorial Fund, who provided matching grants. It cost nearly three times as much to run the kaytana as to run the overnight camp.

So, perhaps, camp’s magic is not a complete mystery after all. As technical director Inbar Avrahami Saraf said, “[The kaytana] was an experiment, a proof of concept of the magic of machaneh, and how the magic is not in the physical space but in the chanichm [campers] and the tzevet and just the community that makes it so incredible.”

So, credit must be given to the force of will that the youth leaders and the wider Jewish community bring – the relentless push to build and dream; to create community and unforgettable experiences, whether they be on Gabriola Island, on a three-day hike in the pouring rain or in the midst of a pandemic.

“The magic of machaneh doesn’t just exist far away on an island, it exists where we choose to create it,” said Levy.

Unfortunately, once again Camp Miriam has had to cancel its overnight camp due to COVID-19, but, once again, the young staff are ready to create amazing kaytana experiences. To register for Miriam’s 2021 summer programs or to support the camp as it faces another challenging season, go to campmiriam.org.

Sasa Popovich is a writer and former Camp Miriam camper, counselor and technical director.

Holy jab a moving experience

We’re celebrating at our house. I’ve gotten my first AstraZeneca vaccination “jab.” I’ve got a sore arm and felt droopy afterwards, but I’m thrilled to have finally gotten access.

As a pragmatic, 40-something Gen X-er, I had to wait my turn. Then I rushed to get an appointment. In the Manitoba social media world, we heard others complain that the system was difficult to navigate. The deadpan reply from our cohort was something like, “Guess you’ve never had to get up early to try to register your kids for swim lessons.” In a place where resources like, say, vaccination or indoor pool swim lesson spots, are very limited, we’ve learned to negotiate systems that were not designed for our needs or to be welcoming.

This big event for 40-somethings in several Canadian provinces happened to coincide with the Torah portion of Acharei Mot-Kedoshim, Leviticus 16:1-20:27. This big double parashah (portion) covers a lot, including what it means to be holy. In some cases, it might mean “to be prepared.”

It’s also the portion that encourages us to “Love your neighbour as yourself” and Leviticus 19:34 reads, “The stranger who resides with you shall be to you as one of your citizens; you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I the Lord am your God.”

The Torah is, sort of, a holiness how-to guide of its time, and some of the issues may no longer be everyday things for many. However, the pandemic forces us to be prepared for simple things like wearing a mask during a shopping outing. Add in more complex things, like obtaining access to that coveted vaccination, too. It’s interesting that the weekly parashah topics like preparation, holiness, loving neighbours and caring for strangers all came up at once.

The nurse who gave me my jab had worked in the COVID wards. She exuded calm as she went through her vaccine script. She made the moment feel monumental and holy while preparing me. When I thanked her, she said how great it was to be part of this effort to keep so many others healthy and safe after experiencing the suffering in the hospitals.

As I sat in the doctor’s waiting room for my 15 minutes after the jab, I thought about this. Masking up, getting vaccinated and social distancing are all ways that we show love for one another right now. Those actions are so powerful that I’m affronted and sad whenever someone demonstrates as an anti-masker, doesn’t wear a mask or even spits in public. Indeed, that means he doesn’t love his neighbour enough.

While I waited, it was a quiet. Yo-Yo Ma wasn’t serenading others on his cello in the clinic or anything like that. Instead, I turned and congratulated a stranger, a man who had also just gotten his shot. It was an oddly affirming moment. He had a spouse with an immune condition. Like me, he had kids learning at home. At first glance, I might have felt apprehensive chatting – he was heavily inked with tattoos and intimidating. Still, the love we both felt towards the universe for this opportunity and to those who also cared so much that we’d rushed to get vaccinated, was tender and transformative.

While I’d been able to get my shot, alas, Manitoba, and other parts of Canada seem to be quickly losing their battle to outrun the third wave. Vaccines can’t get into arms fast enough. Yet, as I read the news, there are also multiple reports of moments where people are taking care of strangers. In North Dakota, there’s now a pop-up Moderna vaccination site at a rest stop. They managed to vaccinate 62 truck drivers from Manitoba the first day. This was such a gift to our province, which hasn’t chosen to prioritize these essential workers.

In Montana, the Blackfeet Nation has invited Albertans to cross the border (with permission) to get vaccinated on their reservation. They were able to use up expiring vaccines on both strangers and Indigenous relatives who lived across the international border.

Many Jewish people have reported on social media that they recited the Shehecheyanu or the slightly more complicated “bathroom prayer,” which thanks G-d for the miraculous workings of our bodies. I uttered a silent prayer of my own, too.

It was also a chance to appreciate the kindness of strangers who looked after me. The doctor stuck his head in to ask if I had any questions. The nurse and I had a deep conversation – about illness, death, birth and our struggles as parents – in our few minutes together before and after the vaccine. Like so many who’ve been mostly social distancing and staying at home, these nurturing interactions have been few and far between this year.

I must admit, when we stream services on Shabbat at home, I’m not standing up much. I’m not on my tiptoes as we would in synagogue when we sing the Kedusha – the part where we say, “Holy, Holy,” and try to ease ourselves up closer to heaven and to the angels. Preparing oneself and trying to be holy is, for all of us, a process, but I felt just a little more prepared after what I experienced this week.

If you’re anxious about needles, don’t worry. My kids looked at my arm and I don’t have a “hole” there!

I feel like my vaccination experience captured a snapshot of how we can all strive to be more prepared. It’s an opportunity to love our neighbours, care for the stranger and, maybe, in the process, become a bit closer to heaven and more holy.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for CBC Manitoba 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.

Where I’ve been this year

After listening to Dr. Betsy Stone during a community workshop called A Year of Upheaval: What has Trauma Done to our Bodies and our Brains?, I decided to take her advice and tell my story. According to Stone, “Healing requires storytelling … we tell our stories so we’ll understand our experience differently.”

The past 15 months have been a journey for all of us. Some more than others, but no one has not “traveled” during the pandemic. And, by travel, I mean change. Whether we’re brave enough (honest enough?) to admit it or not, we have all been transformed. Call it trauma, call it what you like. It’s all a matter of semantics. Not everyone is as vocal as I am, or as filled with anxiety about COVID, but no one comes out of this horrible shindig unscathed.

Whether your resilience lies in emotional strength or a feeling of invincibility, or whether you’re firmly entrenched in that big river in Egypt (denial), we all cope in our own ways. There is no one right way through this. You can’t go over it, you can’t go under it – you can only go through it. Putting our experience into words brings new life to it, new insights. Speaking it makes it even more real and, maybe, just maybe, easier to cope with.

So, where have I been this year? I wish I could answer that with geographic precision. What comes to mind is: home. And, occasionally, the pharmacy and grocery store, as well as walks close to home. While I hate to say that the pandemic has been my world, it’s hard to escape the reality of that pronouncement. I fully admit my obsession with the pandemic, my fear and my single-minded focus on how to stay healthy. I won’t apologize for it, or feel less-than. It is what it is.

That doesn’t mean to say that my fear has prevented me from seeing silver linings during this unparalleled time. There has definitely been more than one “there-must-be-a-pony” moment. The most important one being that my nephew and his wife had a baby boy near the start of the pandemic. It doesn’t get any better than that. In random order after that, I have thrown myself into the deep end of the pool with Torah classes and other religious learning. Next on my list is that I started on a life-changing medical treatment that makes my life much easier. I have made new friends and acquaintances through the numerous Zoom classes I attend nearly every day. I am exercising 100% more than I did pre-pandemic. I might sleep less, but my brain has expanded. In the good way. And that’s just the beginning.

All this is by way of saying that, while I wouldn’t award COVID first place in a popularity contest, it has had its bright spots. It has impacted my perspective on all things, in a way that nothing else has, to that degree. When I think about what’s important now, my pre-COVID list is almost laughable. I, like many others, have embraced the basics: health and safety, family, faith and trust.

When I think of the trajectory of this past 15 months, it’s hard to articulate. Or, more to the point, what our reactions have been. Have I learned to be more trusting, or more suspicious? Have I expanded my capacity for compassion, or have I become more selfish? Have I anchored my experiences in religious belief, or have I trusted in science? Have I given in to my fears, or have I conquered them? While I’ve always tended to lean towards the black and white, there really are no absolutes right now. There are, however, firm yeses and hard no’s. I am reconsidering everything I once was certain about. The $64,000 question is whether I will be able to integrate what I’ve learned and turn it into something positive when all this is over. Or, better yet, before all this is over. The jury is still out. But I’m hopeful.

I have become exponentially more grateful for the simple things: my devoted husband who is my perfect companion in life; that I have a loving and lovely family; that I have never had to worry about where my next meal will come from; that I live in a part of the world that has great doctors, easy access to medical care and all the outdoor green spaces you could ever ask for; and that I have mentors and friends. I could go on ad infinitum.

Too often, I see the clouds instead of the blue sky that’s right behind it. I see impediments where there don’t have to be any. Positivity is a steep learning curve for me. It’s funny that I used to consider myself an optimist. Since the pandemic, I’ve come to see how maybe-not-true that is. Not that I’m proud of it, it’s just the current reality. But I’m trying pointedly to turn that around. There are days where I see hope staring me in the face everywhere. Literally everywhere. Other days, it’s just fog and darkness. I know I’m hardly unique in this.

So, in truth, I have been lots of places this year. Mostly in my head. But some real places, too. Like a certain street in Shaughnessy that’s filled with huge trees, beautiful homes and no people walking about. A place where it’s safe for me to take off my face mask for a block or two. Until I see someone. I have also been to a place of sheer, unnamable joy, seeing my tiny great-nephew on WhatsApp video. I have discovered flowers I never knew existed, in areas I’d never walked before (despite being a native Vancouverite). I have traveled via Zoom to other countries, for learning and sometimes for pleasure. But pleasures that don’t involve a beach or a buffet. And I travel constantly in my dreams.

Every day of this pandemic, I have learned something. About myself, about others, about faith. That’s got to count for something, right? When we all heal from what Stone calls this “trauma,” we’re definitely going to come out of it changed. Whether that change is positive or negative, or a combination of both, is up to us entirely. My commitment to myself is that I’m going to try and lay the groundwork for an improved Shelley. A less anxious, more trusting, deliberately positive Shelley.

I guarantee you’ll still recognize me, though. I’ll be the one still wearing a facemask a year from now. Or maybe not.

Shelley Civkin 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.

Blessing of love

I must make the disclaimer that none of the letters after my name qualify me to opine on matters of this kind but, as I have done too often in the past, I “rush in where angels fear to tread.” I just feel it is so important for our well-being to have a little bit of this in our make-up. I believe we have to be lucky enough that someone has loved us unconditionally, whether that be a parent, God or a partner. It can arrive from siblings, but siblings are more often competitive than fully loving.

But why is this so important? Because a person who loves us unconditionally is one who is naturally inclined to forgive us for our transgressions. We are hardly likely to get through life without making mistakes. If others we respect are ready to forgive us our trespasses, we are much more likely to forgive ourselves as well. And that, I believe, is a very big deal.

If we can’t forgive ourselves for our mistakes, for our misbehaviours, then we probably don’t like ourselves very much. Indeed, we are probably angry with ourselves most of the time. If it’s true, it shows. Everybody knows the saying, “love thy neighbour as thyself.” If you don’t like yourself, well, look out below!

But suppose you understand that we all make mistakes? Suppose you understand that mistakes are learning opportunities and the great thing is that you can learn to not make the same mistake again. Mistakes are a necessary way to get smarter about organizing your life. You don’t have to beat yourself up about them. Learn your lesson and move on. You are still a person worth loving. And, because you are getting so smart about things, why shouldn’t you appreciate and admire yourself? Your heritage of love gives you strength, self-confidence.

But what if your mistake is unredeemable? Ouch! Those, you just have to live with. And shouldn’t that make you kinder about the mistakes of others, more generous, more forgiving? If you could do such a thing, well, then, it could happen to anybody, couldn’t it? Sure it could! Forgive them as you forgive yourself.

A belief in your essential goodness will aid you when you are confronted with all those essential decisions one has to make in life. How will what I am thinking of doing impact the lives of those I care for? Can I square this action with the kind of person I want to be? Will I still be able to love myself if I do this thing? If not, then I must find another way to accomplish my ends. Loving yourself can mean having that kind of conversation with yourself.

In the past, I often assumed that what advanced my interests would obviously be in the interests of those I cared for, those whose welfare I was responsible for. It was only with the passage of time that I grew to appreciate that I often missed a step in making that calculation. Most decisions turned out well, but some bore costs paid for by others, costs of which I had not the slightest notion. It was only with time that I would appreciate that I had paid a price as well.

In the end, I believe that those of us who have been blessed with a heritage of love are better able to love ourselves and are better equipped to bestow that heritage on others. I think that is a wonderful thing.

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.