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Salomé CD launched

Over the last three decades, poet and performer Adeena Karasick and composer and trumpeter Frank London have each transformed the worlds of poetry and music with work that is sensual and political, steeped in Jewish mysticism, exploding notions of high and low culture. Their first collaboration together, Salomé: Woman of Valor, the debut recording of London’s NuJu Music label, was released on Oct. 15.

Karasick and London’s Salomé takes its inspiration from the historical figure, who has become typecast as a lurid femme fatale, especially via Oscar Wilde’s play and Richard Strauss’s opera, which depict Salomé as the seductress who danced the infamous “Dance of the Seven Veils” for her stepfather Herod and had John the Baptist beheaded.

“Salomé: Woman of Valor addresses the social and political necessity to speak the unspoken, resist outdated notions of identity and ethnicity. It critiques a received narrative, historically accepted as truth, and opens up a space where difference and otherness can be celebrated,” said Karasick and London in the press release about the launch.

Karasick’s libretto explores, exalts and reclaims the figure of Salomé in a feminist light to reveal an apocryphal figure who refuses to be locked into a world of subjugation and misrepresentation. London’s Salomé score is drawn from many musical traditions – klezmer, bhangra, Arabic and jazz, with a big nod to Miles Davis’ electric work and to trumpet innovator Jon Hassell.

Featured on the recording are Punjabi percussion virtuoso Deep Singh and Middle-Eastern jazz electronica guru Shai Bachar, with guest appearances by actor, director and ubu god Tony Torn and singer Manu Narayan.

Salomé: Woman of Valor is the culmination of seven years work. Karasick’s text was published in 2017 in English and Italian, and sections have been published in Bengali, Arabic, Czech and Malayalam. In 2018, Salomé: Woman of Valor was performed internationally. For an article published prior to the Vancouver show, see jewishindependent.ca/salomes-rightful-place.

Salomé: Woman of Valor can be heard and bought at AppleMusic, BandCamp or Amazon.

JNF panelists focus on heart

Panel speaker Dr. Arthur Dodek in 1963, planting a Jewish National Fund tree as part of the second World Jewish Youth Convention. Dodek was in Israel representing the Student Zionist Organization of North America. (photo from Arthur Dodek)

The Zoom event in Jewish National Fund, Pacific Region’s virtual sukkah on Oct. 8 was seamless and stimulating. Moderator and presenter Dr. Arthur Dodek led the presentation on heart health with a five-minute overview of risk factors. Drs. Saul Isserow, Zach Laksman and Josh Wenner each presented as well, enlightening the audience in easy-to-understand language on topics of cardiology, also in just five minutes each.

But why was JNF Pacific Region hosting a talk on heart health? Well, every year, JNF hosts a Negev Dinner, raising funds for a specific project. This year, in collaboration with the Israeli organization Save a Child’s Heart (SACH), the fundraising supports the building of a cardiac treatment room, as well as a Holter (a heart-rhythm test) room, at the Wolfson Medical Centre in Holon. The sukkah event was the second in the campaign, the first having been held on Aug. 30, for which Dr. Saul and Lindsay Isserow were honourary chairs (jewishindependent.ca/negev-campaign-goes-virtual). Isserow being a prominent cardiologist led to the idea for this second event, an educational panel on heart health.

The funds raised by this Negev campaign will help SACH focus on doing what they do best – saving the lives of some of the most vulnerable children in the world who are born with heart defects. According to Ilan Pilo, executive director of JNF Pacific Region, many of the young patients are from the Palestinian territories and some come from Lebanon and Syria. As well, there are a number of patients from African nations who have been brought to Israel for surgery, accompanied by their families. “There is a beautiful house for the families, like Ronald McDonald House, but it is an African island in suburban Israel,” said Pilo.

At the Oct. 8 panel, Dodek – using data from a variety of studies – summarized the main lifestyle and medical coronary risk factors. At the top of his list was cigarette smoking, which has decreased in prevalence by nearly 30% since 1965. Diet and cholesterol were other major factors of heart disease, with a Mediterranean or Japanese diet recommended to reduce the chance of cardiovascular events. Blood pressure is also a key issue, and Dodek touched on the benefits of a lifestyle that includes stress and weight reduction, as well as exercise.

Isserow picked up on this theme. In providing a practical, Jewish-oriented take on the best way to maintain long-term cardiac health, he said, “The best bang for your buck from a cardiac point of view is simply getting off your tuches and walking for 30-40 minutes per day.” He mentioned having a l’chaim with friends as a way to lower blood pressure, while stressing that having physical activity as part of a daily routine is beneficial not only for the heart but for myriad other areas of health.

Taking things to another level of complexity, Laksman successfully simplified the subject of atrial fibrillation (a chaotic and irregular heart beat). He spoke about the heart’s rhythm and the causes of heart rhythm disorders, as well as treatment options. He explained that age is the number one cause of atrial fibrillation, but added, “Bad habits, alcohol, probably being number one.” Other factors include genetics, really intense endurance exercise, stress and pollution. Laksman discussed how it feels to experience atrial fibrillation and offered some easy tips, including that people should learn how to take their own pulse, to determine their condition.

Wrapping up the cardiologist panel was Wenner, the youngest of the doctors. Having volunteered for Save a Child’s Heart in Israel before entering his cardiology program, Wenner had a firsthand connection with SACH’s work. But the focus of his talk was COVID-19 and the heart. One of the most important takeaways was the importance of continuing to take heart medications appropriately and regularly to maintain health regardless of rumours in the media about contraindication with COVID. One of the other points Wenner made was that people should go to the hospital if necessary. “Based on the raw data, in March and April … the overall death rate, excluding COVID patients, was significantly higher and the best theory for that is that people were staying home with their acute cardiac and other conditions,” explained Wenner.

JNF Pacific Region president Bernice Carmeli concluded the evening with a more detailed explanation of the fundraising goals and the collaboration with Save a Child’s Heart.

The event proceeded with limited breaks between speakers and short comments by the moderator. “I was asked to give my best 45-minute talk in 12 minutes and I said I can’t do it, but it turned out to be my best talk,” commented Dodek.

For those who weren’t able to attend the event, most of the program was recorded and can be accessed on YouTube or by contacting Pilo at the JNF Pacific Region office, 604-257-5155 or [email protected]. More information can be found, and donations made, at jnf.ca/vancouver/campaigns/negev-campaign.

Michelle Dodek is a freelance writer, who also happens to be the daughter-in-law of the moderator (for full disclosure). Her husband, who is a doctor, says she has the medical knowledge of a third-year medical student.

Need more women leaders

Dr. Patricia Daly (photo from vch.ca)

Dr. Patricia Daly, the chief medical officer for Vancouver Coastal Health, provided an illuminating but discouraging perspective on the status of women in leadership positions in medicine during a National Council of Jewish Women of Canada webinar Oct. 14.

A familiar media presence in Metro Vancouver since the COVID-19 pandemic hit earlier in the year, Daly touched upon the history of women in medicine in Canada and their underrepresentation at board tables and in positions of authority.

Daly, who is also a clinical professor at the University of British Columbia’s School of Population and Public Health, pointed out that, at the time she graduated from medical school in the mid-1980s, one in three students were women. “I am at the stage in my career where physicians would traditionally be in leadership positions,” she said. “Yet, when I look around the tables where I sit, I don’t see one-third of those leaders as women, and I don’t see leadership reflecting the current reality that most students are now women.”

By 1995, there were more women entering medical school in Canada than men. By 2018, 63% of the student body nationwide was female. Nevertheless, only two of 17 Canadian medical school deans were women in that year and the Canadian Medical Association board was comprised of 20 men and six women.

Some of the theories put forward as to why there is a lopsided domination by men in positions of leadership include “unconscious biases” against women, family demands and a confidence gap between the genders, said Daly.

In the Vancouver Coastal Health region, just over 40% of doctors are women, reflective of the national average. Still, she said, fewer than 20% of all VCH leadership roles are filled by women, and that percentage decreases at more senior levels.

Recommendations of how to address this problem encompass leadership training, mentorship opportunities for young female employees and the creation of structures that would incorporate, among other things, the provision of childcare.

“We need to think about how we can support women (and men) who want a work-life balance so that they can advance in their careers and they can achieve leadership roles,” she maintained.

Daly then went into a wide-ranging overview of public health, a field with the mandate of improving the health of entire populations – through prevention of disease and injury, promotion of good health, and protection from potential harms.

Among public health’s many achievements in the past century are vaccinations, family planning, motor vehicle safety, healthier foods, control of infectious diseases, fluoridation of drinking water, safer workplaces and recognition of the hazards of smoking. Recent areas of focus in public health have been climate change and the prevention of substance abuse.

According to information provided by Daly, the average lifespan of Canadians has increased by 30 years since the 1900s, much of which can be attributed to advances in public health.

She added, “A lot of the work we do is centred on maternal-child health. In order to maximize someone’s health potential, we need to start in early childhood; in fact, in utero. Brain development is most important in the first two to five years of life. About 80% of our resources, including public health nurses, are focused on early childhood, supporting women to have healthy pregnancies, to help vulnerable mothers and for childhood immunizations.”

Public health also works on what is known as the “social determinants” of health, said Daly. These include levels of education and income, social connections and risk behaviours, i.e., diet, exercise and smoking.

“People living in poverty are at much greater risk of illness and disease, as well as injuries, despite universal healthcare,” she said. “The goal of public health is to reduce these disparities and bring the system towards one of health equity.”

The third part of Daly’s lecture was about public health and how it handles pandemics. In 1918, Vancouver’s chief medical officer, Dr. Fred Underhill, had to deal with the deadly outbreak of the Spanish flu. (The photos presented at the lecture from at that time showed an exclusively male and Caucasian medical leadership.)

COVID-19 has been Daly’s primary focus for the past eight months. As is broadly known, public health policies during the current pandemic have focused on the need to isolate cases and contacts for 14 days until a person is non-infectious; restrict travel; limit public gatherings; encourage people to physically distance; and have physicians provide virtual care when possible.

“Having access to tests is an important public health measure,” said Daly. “The single most important intervention is to isolate people who test positive and to identify their close contacts and quarantine them. We are fortunate that COVID-19 has a long incubation period. If we can identify cases, then, even if they get sick, they are not going to pass the virus onto others.”

She warned, “Despite the relatively draconian measures taken, we are not going to stop this virus without a vaccine.”

Daly also brought up some of the unintended consequences of the pandemic response, such as the growing number of overdose deaths, increased social isolation in long-term care facilities, suspended elective surgeries and the effects on the broader economy.

She concluded, “The good news is that vaccine development is very promising.”

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

Learning his family’s history

George Heyman, ninth from the right, with family members in Poland last year. (photo from George Heyman)

Like scores of other British Columbians, George Heyman owes his life to Chiune Sugihara.

Heyman, who was reelected Saturday as MLA for Vancouver-Fairview, was born after the Second World War. But his parents escaped Poland via Japan thanks to the assistance of Sugihara, who was the vice-consul for the Japanese Empire in Kaunas, Lithuania. At risk to his career and probably his life, Sugihara betrayed orders of the Imperial Japanese government and issued transit visas that are credited with saving the lives of at least 6,000 European Jews.

Heyman, who was minister of environment and climate change strategy in the last government, was sketchy on some of this family history. So, at the urging of a distant cousin who is “a ferocious researcher,” Heyman, his sister and other family members from around the world convened in Poland last year.

“[The cousin] found others as well and he started communicating with us and sending us snapshots of things that he’d found in archives and going back a couple of hundred years,” Heyman said of the cousin, who is a retired professor in Denmark. “He found information about the village that our ancestors had once lived before they migrated to Warsaw.”

The diverse group of family members spent about 10 days together in the summer of 2019.

“We met in Warsaw, we had an initial family dinner of 20 people, three generations,” he recalled. “Everybody said a little bit about what it meant to them to be back, as well as where their lives had taken them.”

The cousin had prepared a family tree and presented each guest with a scroll outlining their genealogy. They then traveled as a group to Praszka, the village where the family had originated but left for Warsaw, probably in the late 1700s or early 1800s.

Both of his parents, Stefan Heyman and Marta Eliasberg Heyman, were born in Warsaw and they were family friends with the noted pedagogue and child advocate Dr. Janusz Korczak.

“My grandmother had been a volunteer working with him and my grandfather, who was a doctor, had also worked with him,” said Heyman. “We visited the site of the orphanage, which is now a commemorative museum. We went to the Jewish cemetery in Warsaw.… I was so pleased to see that so much had been done to rehabilitate much of the cemetery. People had been working on it since the end of the Second World War, but work continues. We wandered, we found gravestones of relatives and people we thought might be relatives. We talked to people we met there.”

They also visited the remnants of the Warsaw Ghetto, where Heyman’s maternal grandmother had been confined but from which she was rescued before the ghetto was liquidated, in 1943.

His maternal grandfather had died before the war and his grandmother, Stella Bernstein Eliasberg, had remained behind when Heyman’s parents fled. She was incarcerated in the ghetto, but was rescued in a scenario of which Heyman knows only the barest details. The ghetto wall abutted the side of a church and someone – friends of his grandparents, he thinks – brought clothing as a disguise and smuggled her out through the church and into hiding for the rest of the war. Heyman does not know whether there was any communication during this time between his mother and his grandmother. But, shortly after the war, Heyman’s parents were able to bring his grandmother to Vancouver, where she lived with them and played an important role in his life, until she passed away just before Heyman’s bar mitzvah.

Nothing is known of the fate of Heyman’s paternal grandparents.

“I often wonder what it must have been like for my father,” he said. “It’s hard enough when we remember a loved one who has died and we know the circumstances of their death. It’s horrific, as it has been for so many, many, many people … they are left only to imagine what their loved ones went through in their final days and hours. That was my father.”

The trip refashioned Heyman’s conception of his family.

“I always thought of my family as being very small,” he said. “In fairness, I didn’t know that some of these people even existed…. It gives me a sense of continuity and history.”

The trip also helped emphasize for him the lessons of the past for the politics of the present.

“We see right-wing violence, we see the beginnings of fascism appearing in many countries,” he said. “We don’t have to look far to see what happens if we take things for granted.”

He brings that experience back into his current work.

“That’s one of the reasons that our government, after 16 years of its elimination, reinstated the B.C. Human Rights Commission,” he said, “because it’s not enough to just deal with racist behaviour, hate behaviour, after it happens, we need a commission that will be responsible for educating people and recommending programs to raise people in an atmosphere of tolerance and love, not suspicion and hate. So that is also a very significant and often unnoticed achievement of our government, and we did it very early.”

He reflected: “The trip was meeting a family that I never knew I had and having more of a sense of being grounded in my family history, as well as the terrible recent history of what happened to our and so many other families, just dispersed, another diaspora all over the world.”

Shoah survivor offers a warning

Judy Weissenberg Cohen, at the age of 92, recently published her memoir, Cry in Unison. (photo from Riddle Films)

On erev Yom Kippur, in a Nazi concentration camp, a group of Hungarian Jewish women and girls prevailed upon two comparatively sympathetic kapos to obtain a lone candle and a single siddur.

Judy Weissenberg Cohen, a Toronto woman who, at the age of 92, recently published her memoir, was one of those girls.

“In this place, where we felt that instead of asking for forgiveness from God, God should be asking for forgiveness from us, we all wanted to gather around the woman with the lit candle and siddur,” she said during a virtual book launch Sept. 14. “She began to recite the Kol Nidre very slowly so we could repeat the words if we wanted to, but we didn’t. Instead, all the women burst out in a cry in unison. Our prayer was the sound of this incredible cry of hundreds of women. I have never heard, before or since then, such a heart-rending sound. Something was happening to us. It was as if our hearts were bursting. Even though no one really believed the prayer would change our situation, that God would suddenly intervene – we weren’t that naïve – the opportunity to cry out and remember together reminded us of our former lives, alleviating utter misery even for the shortest while. In some inexplicable way, it seemed to give us comfort. Even today, many decades later, every time I go to Kol Nidre services, I can’t shake the memory of that sound. This is the Kol Nidre I always remember.”

Cohen’s book, Cry in Unison, was published by the Azrieli Foundation’s Holocaust Survivor Memoirs Program. Cohen’s is the 113th memoir published by the program. The books are offered to schools and universities across Canada at no cost, providing educators with an accessible entryway to teaching about the Holocaust by approaching history one story at a time.

Cohen was born in 1928, the youngest of seven children in the Weissenberg family.

In 1938, when she was 10 years old, her parents and other Hungarian Jews became increasingly alarmed by news from adjacent countries, including the Anschluss of Austria, followed a few months later by Kristallnacht.

When the mass transport of Jews from Hungary began, in 1944, Cohen spent days in a boxcar with 78 others, with two buckets – one for drinking water, the other for a toilet. On arrival in Auschwitz-Birkenau, as they disembarked from the cattle cars, a worker approached women with children and “very quietly in an urgent tone” told the young mothers to hand their children over to the grandmothers.

“At the time, we didn’t know what it meant,” Cohen recalled. “The fact was [the worker] asked the young mothers to give children over to the grandmothers because he knew that, within hours of our arrival, the grandmothers who looked 45 years or older and Jewish children 14 and younger immediately will be murdered in the gas chambers of Birkenau. He wanted to save the young mothers. If you didn’t carry a child, then you lived. If you carried a child, even if the child wasn’t yours, you went to the gas chamber with the child.”

Cohen and her sisters were showered, shaved and given dirty hand-me-down garments. Sent outside without towels to dry themselves, Cohen could not locate her sisters.

“Only when they started to talk … and all of a sudden we started to laugh in our painful way,” she recalled. “How drastically we changed within a few hours.”

Cohen was subsequently transported to Bergen-Belsen concentration camp and then to a forced labour facility that was a sub-camp of Buchenwald.

In the spring of 1945, on a death march through the German countryside, she was finally liberated. The realization came in a German man’s choice of language.

With other girls and women, Cohen was sleeping in a barn during the march. “In the morning, there was a loud knock on the barn door,” she said. “We woke up all of a sudden from our shallow sleep and there stood a guy in the doorway. I still remember, it was a beautiful sunny day, the sun was behind him and he stood there like a dark silhouette. And, in a nice, strong voice in German, he said, ‘Fräuleins!’”

The women were startled as much by the word as by the awakening.

“Did he really say Fräuleins? A German addressed us as Fräuleins?” they asked one another, “The war must be over. A German hasn’t addressed us in a civil tongue for ages.”

He immediately continued: “Fräuleins, you are free.”

The terms liberation and freedom may be equivocal given what Holocaust survivors experienced. In Cohen’s case, she returned to her hometown in Hungary, certain that if she, the youngest, had survived, then surely her elders, who were more capable of caring for themselves, would likewise be coming home.

“I don’t know why I dared to be logical about the Nazi genocide,” she said.

Instead, she was reunited with one brother, one sister and two cousins.

“So it was very traumatic,” she said. The trauma was accentuated by the fact that some of the returning villagers had been on work battalions and had not experienced the death camps, and in fact had no knowledge of them.

“I had to be the messenger to tell them that their wives and their little girls were murdered in the gas chambers in Birkenau,” she said. “They didn’t believe me. They actually [considered] me insane.”

She went to a displaced persons camp – constructed on the grounds of the razed Bergen-Belsen concentration camp – and lived there for two years, learning a trade. But, when the opportunity came to emigrate, it wasn’t as a dental technician that she was chosen.

The Canadian government was seeking 2,500 garment workers. Though she had no experience, Cohen faked it and came to Montreal ostensibly as seamstress. (She moved with her family to Toronto in 1961.)

“But, with all other difficulties that we overcame through the time, I finally learned, with kind helping people, how to put together a dress and made some kind of a living,” she said. “The contract was only for one year, but I stayed for three years.… During those three years, I also prepared myself to change skills, change profession. I learned French, I learned English, I took a course to become a bookkeeper with typing ability and switch to office work.”

There was no psychological support and the term post-traumatic stress disorder did not yet exist.

“I don’t think we realized that we were traumatized,” she said. “You went through difficult times but it didn’t have a name. It so happened that my sister and I, and my brother, we had self-help among ourselves…. The emotional baggage, as far as I’m concerned, and I can only speak for myself, that had to be put on the back burner. It no longer was a priority to talk about it. Furthermore, nobody wanted to listen to us…. We just went on living as new Canadians and establishing new lives basically on the ashes of the old, and even became happy Canadians, got married, had children. We became like all other Canadians, overcoming all emotional difficulties by not giving them eminence in our lives.”

Cohen became a public speaker, sharing her Holocaust experiences with schools and other audiences after she had a run-in with neo-Nazis in downtown Toronto. She also has become a researcher and author on the topic of the unique experiences of women in the Holocaust.

Above all, Cohen said, she wrote her memoir in the 10th decade of her life as a warning.

“Mainly, I would like you to understand that this generation and subsequent generations must learn from us while we are still alive that this kind of depravity, one human to another, was possible and did happen and, unfortunately, it could happen again,” she said. “We are writing it to you all as a warning, as a very serious warning of what can happen even in cultured, educated, civil societies.”

An 80th birthday tribute

Annette Whitehead has spent her life helping others.

Annette Whitehead – who turns 80 on Nov. 17 – continues to devote herself to helping others. Born in Winnipeg, but raised since infancy in Vancouver, her volunteer career started with her being a candy striper in her teens.

Over the years, Annette has served in myriad capacities for various organizations. Her only absence from local community work was during her three-and-a-half years of living in Sweden, immediately after her marriage and the birth of her first child, a son, Sidney.

Upon her return to Vancouver, Annette gave birth to her second child, a daughter, Sally. Together, Annette and her husband Jacob (z’l) raised their children and, thanks to Annette being a “stay-at-home mom,” she also raised half the neighbourhood’s children, who made the Whitehead home their meeting place. To this day, many of her children’s friends, now with children of their own, keep in touch with her via Facebook and Skype, still addressing her as “Mrs. Whitehead,” as they did when they were kids.

Throughout her years as the anchor of her family’s home life, Annette took on babysitting, both as a source of income and on a volunteer basis for families in crisis. Once both her children went off to university and on to successful careers in finance and law, Annette started accepting home-stays, overseas students who were visiting Canada to master English. She hosted home-stays from 1993 until 2014. Many of the students have kept in touch with her and consider her their “Canadian mom.”

Sadly, Annette became a widow 13 years ago, but she has retained a busy life. These days, she enjoys spending a great deal of time with her two granddaughters, Raya and Lilah. As well, she holds positions on the boards of several organizations and participates in volunteer activities on an almost daily basis.

Annette is a trustee on the board of Jewish Women International, B.C. chapter (JWI-BC), and is co-chair of JWI-BC’s Noah’s Ark Project, which provides rear-facing infant car seats to 17 hospitals, organizations and institutions in the province, for working poor and refugee families, as well as several Ministry of Children and Families offices. In her co-chair position, Annette serves as a JWI-BC chapter liaison with social workers at several hospitals with respect to the delivery of the car seats and other baby items, as needed.

Every year since its inception by JWI-BC in the 1980s until the program was terminated last year, Annette was one of the Christmas Eve and Christmas Day volunteers at BC Children’s Hospital, delivering refreshments, snacks and homemade baking to doctors, nurses and other hospital staff, as well as to the parents of young patients. Annette still sends out e-announcements to JWI-BC’s membership – congratulatory messages on births, engagements, weddings and achievements, as well as speedy recovery wishes and, sadly, condolences.

Annette currently sits on the Kitsilano Community Centre’s board, as well as on the seniors board and the seniors committee. As the goods and welfare secretary, she has volunteered for a number of years to send out get-well cards via standard mail to senior members.

At Kerrisdale Community Centre, Annette sits on the senior board and also volunteers as a photographer for special events. Her pictures have been published as part of the centre’s advertising – on the cover and inside the community-wide seasonal program schedules published twice a year. In addition, she volunteers in setting up for special luncheons.

Annette is a past board and committee member for both the program and youth committees at Marpole Community Centre. For many years, she volunteered at the centre’s yearly Marpole Festival Days, working with children and their families, as well as taking photographs for in-house publication.

In the past, Annette has served as volunteer treasurer, both for JWI-BC chapter and for David Livingston Elementary School’s parents committee. For a number of years, she volunteered as a library assistant – at McBride Elementary and Vancouver Technical schools – and also helped slower readers at several Vancouver schools with their reading skills.

Maintaining her interest in health-related activities, Annette volunteers yearly for the Vancouver Sun Run and the HBC Children’s Hospital fundraising run, and has worked in registration, childcare and catering positions for both charities. For several years, she volunteered for the Heart & Stroke Foundation of B.C. & Yukon, leading patients recovering from strokes on neighbourhood walks, with the purpose of improving their ability to walk and talk.

Wishing Annette the happiest of birthdays and thanking her for all she has done for the Jewish and general communities. May she live until 120.

Community milestones … NCJW, JFS, Digby-Klein, Peretz, Federation, VHEC

Newcomer to Vancouver and longtime National Council of Jewish Women of Canada member Rachel Ornoy, left, cheers the Purse Project volunteer gang on.

Members of National Council of Jewish Women of Canada, Vancouver section, under the guidance of Cate and Jane Stoller, stuffed purses with cosmetics, toiletries, comfort candles, chocolates, gift cards, pyjamas and other useful items on the morning of Sept. 27 for partner agency Atira Women’s Resource Society, a not-for-profit organization committed to the work of ending violence against women.

Thank you to everyone who dropped off purses, helped fill the bags and collect their contents – more than 100 purses were delivered to Atira. Also thank you to Jane Stoller for putting together the hostess table with coffee and Timbits. It was a lovely pre-Kol Nidre morning mitzvah and it was great to have a socially distant visit with our NCJWC Vancouver friends.

* * *

This year’s Project Isaiah campaign required Jewish Family Services (JFS) to change the way it looked at the traditional food drive. From Sept. 8 to Sept. 29, JFS ran its very first virtual community food drive, ending with a COVID-19-safe drive-thru drop off.

Despite the needs being greater than ever – more than double compared to last year – this year’s Project Isaiah campaign has been the most successful food drive in the past 10 years. Thanks to donors, the Jewish Food Bank will be able to feed 700 clients (up from 450 last year) over the next four to six months; recipients include 175 children and 118 elders within our community.

* * *

photo - Aaron Klein and Carolyn Digby — Aaron Klein and Carolyn Digby

Carolyn Digby and Aaron Klein were wed in a romantic ceremony, surrounded by family and friends, Nov. 9, 2019, at VanDusen Botanical Garden in Vancouver. The couple resides in Toronto, where both are pursuing studies, Carolyn in a clinical psychology counseling master’s program, and Aaron in aerospace engineering, doctorate program.

* * *

The Peretz Centre has appointed Liana Glass to lead the centre’s pnei mitzvah program. The Peretz pnei mitzvah – pnei (faces) rather than b’nei (“sons of”), to reflect a gender-neutral descriptor – is a two-year program in which students meet once every second week for two hours, culminating in a group ceremony. The next intake period is this fall.

Glass, who has earned a master’s of community and regional planning at the University of British Columbia, has considerable experience in teaching and facilitating groups from diverse backgrounds, most recently as a research intern with Vancouver’s Social Purpose Real Estate Collaborative.

Glass’s path to secular Judaism was not a straight one. After studying Yiddish at the Vilnius Yiddish Institute’s summer program in 2017, she found that “Yiddish opened up a secular avenue for me to explore my Judaism and connect with it on a different level. It allowed me to reexamine Judaism in the larger context of my life and as part of my cultural identity. The prospect of helping pnei mitzvah students find that sense of connection through the various subjects we’ll explore in class is extremely exciting.”

“In our search, we indicated that we were looking for a candidate who is dynamic, enthusiastic and firmly committed to secular Jewish ideals and learning. Liana brings all that and so much more. We’re looking forward to working with her and seeing where she’ll be taking the program next,” said David Skulski, Peretz Centre general manager.

* * *

Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver elected its 2020-2021 volunteer board of directors at its annual general meeting Sept. 30. New directors, elected for a two-year term, are Hodie Kahn, Shay Keil, Kyra Morris, Lisa Pullan and Stan Shaw. Each of them brings a background of community leadership and past contributions to Jewish Federation.

Kahn is currently chair of Jewish Federation’s Jewish Day School Council, whose work addresses the ongoing enrolment and financial stability needs facing the day schools; she is also a member of the Community Recovery Task Force. Keil is chair of major gifts for the Federation annual campaign and a member of the Jewish Day School Council; he is a past co-chair of men’s philanthropy. Morris is the new chair of the Axis steering committee, which oversees Federation’s programs for young adults. Pullan has lent her fundraising and leadership expertise to Federation for many years, including chairing women’s philanthropy and serving on the board in that capacity. And Shaw has held several leadership roles with Federation; he co-chaired the Food Security Task Force and is now bringing his cybersecurity expertise to the new cybersecurity and information protection subcommittee.

Returning directors elected for a two-year term are David Albert, Bruce Cohen (secretary), Alex Cristall (chair), Jessica Forman, Rick Kohn (treasurer) and Lianna Philipp. They join the following directors who are in the middle of a two-year term, and will be continuing their service on the board: Jim Crooks, Catherine Epstein, Marnie Goldberg, Candace Kwinter (vice-chair), Melanie Samuels and Pam Wolfman.

Joining or continuing to serve on the board are Sue Hector (women’s philanthropy co-chair), Karen James (immediate past chair), Jonathon Leipsic (campaign chair), Shawna Merkur (women’s philanthropy co-chair) and Diane Switzer (Jewish Community Foundation chair).

For more information, visit jewishvancouver.com.

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At its Oct. 14 annual general meeting, the Vancouver Holocaust Centre Society confirmed the society’s board of directors: Rita Akselrod, Marcus Brandt, Jeremy Costin, Michelle Guez, Belinda Gutman, Helen Heacock-Rivers, Philip Levinson, Michael Lipton, Shoshana Krell Lewis, Jack Micner, Talya Nemetz-Sinchein, Ken Sanders, Joshua Sorin, Al Szajman, Robbie Waisman and Corinne Zimmerman. For more information, visit vhec.org/who-we-are/#board.

COVID’s impact on new year

(photo by Shelley Civkin)

Not only did I never imagine that I wouldn’t be able to hug and kiss my family during Rosh Hashanah dinner; I didn’t even get to see them this year. Everyone is still hunkering down, keeping out of COVID’s way and staying close to home. At least most people are.

In case you’re one of those people waiting for things to “get back to normal,” I hate to be the one to deliver the bad news, but there is no going back. Normal is a setting on a dryer. Once the world claws its way out of this pandemic, we will be forever changed. Like grief and loss over time, we may not feel worse, but I guarantee we’ll feel different.

What will come out of this topsy-turvy pandemic is something much better. I’m hopeful that everything we’ve lost and sacrificed will be not only rectified, but made even more hopeful, soul-sustaining and life-affirming. I struggle to say these words, because it sounds downright arrogant, considering the losses people have suffered in the last many months, physically, financially and emotionally. But, if I choose to take the other fork in the road, it’s a dark and scary path, and I just don’t want to go there.

This Rosh Hashanah, like every Rosh Hashanah, we celebrated. Just differently. There was no fanfare. There was no cooking. There were no guests. Not even family. Being cautious by nature has stood me in good stead so far this year, and there was no way I was risking it all after such a long haul. So, we scaled down the physical celebration and revved up the spiritual one. We read more about the High Holiday rituals and their significance this year than ever before; we recited the blessings more powerfully than in the past; and, from our very core, my husband and I sincerely wished each other a healthy, sweet and good new year. And we meant it like never before.

In past years, I would fuss and bother and cook and bake. This year, I didn’t have the emotional or physical koach (strength) for it all. Preoccupied with health challenges, I decided to take the easy way out and have our meals catered from Chef Menajem. Not only was the food spectacular, but it made things (read: pandemic isolation) a bit easier to accept. I set an elegant (if empty) table, got out my silver candlesticks, draped the sweet challah with my homemade Yom Tov challah cover, and we proceeded to eat Rosh Hashanah dinner alone. Just the two of us. It was slightly eerie, but, at the same time, absolutely perfect. And, yes, that’s an acorn squash adorning the table. I didn’t even have the wherewithal to track down a pomegranate. And, while an acorn squash isn’t a first fruit, it was my first squash of the year. I’m sure G-d will understand.

A feeling of tremendous blessing came over me as I realized just how lucky we are to have each other, my husband Harvey and I. Thinking of our single, divorced and widowed friends, and the loneliness and isolation they’re feeling right now, my heart breaks. How I would have loved to invite those friends to our home to join our modest New Year’s celebration. A little wine, a lot of food, some brachot, some honey cake. But COVID-19 was having none of it.

Turns out, COVID-19 is a big, huge bully. It doesn’t care one iota about anyone’s feelings; it doesn’t want to know from suffering or depression or desperation. But, we know, and we’re fighting back. With joy. As many of you know, lots of local Jews took to the parks and beaches to hear the shofar on Rosh Hashanah this year and I, for one, infused much more meaning into the holiday than I can ever remember. Because I could. And it was a very conscious choice. Not only is Rosh Hashanah part of our heritage, it’s our right. And we sure as heck weren’t going to let COVID take that away from us, too. Everything just seemed to magnify this year – the holiness, the urgency, the depth of feeling. And, while it may have seemed a bit lonely from the long view, it was nothing short of superb close up.

Stepping in to fill the spiritual void so many of us are experiencing this year, there are dozens (if not hundreds) of rabbis and synagogues around the world offering online Jewish learning. I want to say a personal thank you to all of you. You are a lifeline, literally. Because of you, I am studying and learning more about my Judaism, and participating in its mitzvot to an extent that’s surprising even me. Never before has finding meaning and purpose taken on such enormous importance. Our mission isn’t just to stay alive; it’s to thrive, even in the face of this brutal pandemic. We, as a people, are stronger than that. Unfathomably stronger.

The pandemic has, for the most part, brought out the best in humanity, and certainly within our Jewish community. People are helping strangers, feeding strangers, doing errands for strangers and wanting to do more. And it’s not just Jews helping Jews. It’s Jews helping everybody. Truly, the world has become one people. When we climb out of our little hidey holes and show up for life in the most positive, compassionate ways we can, each of us makes the world a bit better. And the light grows.

Not a single one of us will come out of this pandemic the same person. We do have the choice to become a better version of ourselves though. Stretched beyond our comfort zone, tired from doing too little for too long, we do have the ability (and the desire) to puff ourselves up and accept the challenges facing us. Or even go beyond. If that’s all that’s within our control right now, that’s enough.

No one is asking us to perform miracles – that’s not in our job description anyway. All we’re being asked to do is help one another through this challenging time. Even just a kind word can get the job done. Do something. Do anything.

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.

Consider soul maintenance

In a recent article, I learned that Gal Gadot, the famous Israeli actor, says the prayer Modeh Ani (“I give thanks”) when she wakes up. Even famous people can be grateful for “getting their souls back” each morning.

In ancient times, sleep was considered analogous to death in some ways. As a study in contrast, the Christian response for children was: “If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” The Jewish response is “Hey! Thanks so much for keeping me alive each morning!”

I have always been a morning person (annoying, I know). Although my household is busy every day, we always manage an unconventional communal Modeh Ani as we go out the door. Maybe it was before catching the school bus in those pre-COVID days or, now, just before we take a walk with the dog. In any case, by the time my kids are lining up for their pandemic screening checks and hand sanitizer, we’ve sung this happy and grateful prayer.

Once something is a part of our routine, Jewish or not, we often don’t reflect on it again – but it’s worth remembering. Reading that Gadot, also a mom, embraced a similar routine was sort of heartening. Then, I happened to be studying Daf Yomi, a page a day of Talmud, and an interesting question arose in Eruvin 70a. What if one made an arrangement with someone so that there would be an eruv, a symbolic communal space, that allowed for carrying on Shabbat, and that person died? What happens then?

Almost immediately, the Talmud discusses the person’s heir. There’s no elaboration on the details, the heir was apparently known to everyone. There’s no mention of the executor or the lawyer the family must hire. There’s none of that. I imagined what it would be like if somebody near to me died suddenly on Friday afternoon, and what might happen next.

Thousands of years ago, people didn’t live as long. They lacked the kind of warnings we usually have now, through medical diagnoses and tests and surgeries. Mortality in general was higher, although everyone still dies. Rather, without modern medication and medical interventions, one expected a fair number of infants, children and adults to die before their time.

The recent rise in COVID cases in my home province of Manitoba and the rising mortality numbers have brought all this back into focus. In the last little while, two men in their 40s have died here. My husband and I are in our 40s. We have kids in grade school. We have a dog. And a house. And….

Based on recent experiences with the deaths of relatives and friends, we often had an idea ahead of time that the person was ill or that things weren’t looking good. Yet it isn’t unusual to hear of family members still tying up the deceased person’s affairs for many months (or years) later.

This pandemic is a sobering wake-up call. A hundred years ago, during the flu pandemic, young parents died very suddenly and left orphans. There were children, spouses, siblings and parents who remained. We’re facing something similar in 2020.

On the one hand, we’re lucky because Judaism offers us very sturdy mourning practices. We’ve continued to innovate, too, relying on technology to mourn together. The last few days, I have joined a rabbi online as she says Kaddish. She waits, patiently, until she sees 10 people pop up, viewing her Twitter or Instagram live feed, thanks everyone for helping her, announces her mother’s name, and begins Kaddish. Given the pandemic’s enormous effects, this has been an intimate and surprisingly moving way to support someone in need, virtually.

On the other hand, we’re out of practise with the notion that somebody can just “up and die.” Most of us don’t have immediate plans in place, but we should. Parents all over the world are scared by the notion that they might fall ill, die and leave their kids and spouse alone. This goes way beyond how one will have an eruv on Shabbat if someone dies on a Friday afternoon or on Shabbat.

Do we have up-to-date wills in place? Emergency plans for our immediate families and long-term ideas of how to get support for those left behind? There are a lot of questions and they are scary. What’s worse, though, is that the panic caused by thinking about this can cause us to turn irrational and erratic. Fear can make us hard to be around. We become the people who can’t manage basic, polite social encounters, such as social distancing at the grocery store.

What’s the antidote? Well, while careful estate planning helps, nothing really prepares us for sudden illness. No amount of religious rituals can make us immortal. However, many circle back to countering the fear. Some of us say Modeh Ani, to be grateful – for each morning, a ray of sunshine, a toddler learning to count or an older kid triumphant after a hard test at school. It’s a taste of really good sweet potato pie or an unexpected hug.

In other words, take the win when you can get it, wherever you find it. Sometimes, it’s whimsy, like knitting a pair of mittens with lots of colours, polka dots and a thumb ring. It’s remembering why we say a prayer, even if we rush it or say it at the wrong time.

We can wears masks and social distance and wash our hands, but, right now, our souls also need positive, meaningful time and spiritual support. The next time your car needs an oil change? Consider routine soul maintenance, too.

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.

Continuing to give it a whirl

A whirligig is a top, or spinning device, something constantly changing. I don’t know about you, but I sometimes feel my head spinning. Whether we are talking about the internal – the radical changes many of us experience in our lives – or the external, the remarkable way the world around us has changed, I think I have got it right, in describing life as a whirligig.

Sometimes, I feel a churning in my insides, as I try to decide whether to laugh or cry. Isn’t it incredible that we start out as these wee things, helpless as puppies? We are even worse – we don’t, as newborns, have the survival instincts of other animals. Then, we grow up as creatures capable of organizing events that can shake the world, at least events that can shake the world around us, metamorphose the people and environment around us. I find that an astounding reality, don’t you?

Creating a new life, as some of us have been blessed with the chance to do, potentially alters all of human history every time it happens. Some humans have done that, and they were born of man and woman. Now, we are seven going on eight billion. What amazing potential lies in human hands! Who knows what intelligences currently lying outside our ken we are yet to master.

I grew up as one of the nonentities and, yet, I have affected the lives of millions who don’t even know my name. No guarantees. We could arrive here just to be another creature consuming resources. But, when I consider the trajectory of my all-too-common life, I shake and twirl, like a spinning top. What about those around us whose names we all know? They also started out on this planet as being more helpless than puppies, but became forces of nature that thrust themselves into our consciousness.

Maybe that is not the most important model. What about those unseen and unknown to us who led a life that yielded offspring, providing the continuity necessary to ensure the survival of humanity’s way of life? All of us started out as an idea that was born into flesh and blood, presenting the option of acting for good or evil. That it works out for the good so many times is astounding, when there are multiple things that can go wrong. We know about those, too. I am letting it all wash over me, making me happy and sad.

Can I talk about some of the ways in which the nature of my external world has changed? I was challenged by the existence of the computer when I was in my 50s. Before that, I remember going into a computer centre in the business I worked in. It occupied a vast air-conditioned space, tended by individuals who were regarded as acolytes of a mysterious priesthood. Today, I have more computing power in the machine I am typing this tale on than was contained in the whole of that metaphoric temple. All that data stuff held for the world’s business has vanished from their physical premises; it’s now in the “cloud,” held electronically in an obscure corner of the United States.

Nowadays, in an instant, I can be present at an event occurring in real time in a place I have never heard of that is 6,000 miles away. If I have the number, I can talk face-to-face with a person halfway around the world!

I can remember shivering in fear as the radio announced what our losses were on land and sea during the Second World War. How immediate would those things be today? We have seen it depicted on TV. Star Trek, with its once-only-imaginable technology, is coming into our living rooms and lives, in living colour. Our appliances are becoming smarter than we are. Is it any wonder that my head begins to spin when I think about it? Our grandkids take this all for granted. They stare at us in disbelief and laugh.

We don’t understand the half of what is going on. But we try to cope with all of this. I have not yet thrown up my hands. I take courses and try to learn new things. I watch webinars. I blunder about expecting failure, and experience it. Bit by bit, I learn a minimum, and I gratefully accept any help offered. I am grateful for the patience of others and try to be patient myself. I revel in small victories of understanding. I resist computer updates that may change the things I know how to work, putting off improvements that leave me at a loss. I accept that I will not learn to know it all.

So, my head is spinning on the turntable of my life, which is also spinning. I make an effort to keep in contact with others of my ilk who are in the same place. We can compare notes and share news of gains and losses. So far, my younger near and dear speak to me in languages I still understand. They make allowances for my decrepitude and hide their amusement at my distresses. I hug my Bride and friends close and closer to ensure I retain human contact. We continue full speed into an evolving future that may be even more beyond my understanding.

I know that, at some time or another, I will have to get off the turntable and hand in my IDs and passwords. Until then, I continue to give it a whirl!

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.