antisemitism – Page 5

Concerning actions

The federal government announced last week that they are eliminating the office of Canada’s Special Envoy on Preserving Holocaust Remembrance and Combatting Antisemitism.

The announcement came in conjunction with the decision to eliminate the similar office of the Special Representative on Combatting Islamophobia, and the announcement that there will be a new Advisory Council on Rights, Equality and Inclusion.

It is hard to find fault with the hope expressed by the government that the new council, which will be comprised of prominent Canadians from academia as well as experts and community leaders, will foster social cohesion, rally Canadians around shared identity, combat racism and hate in all their forms, and help guide the government’s work in fighting racism. However, cutting the one position in Ottawa explicitly committed to addressing antisemitism just doesn’t seem wise.

Given the precipitous rise in antisemitism in Canada, we might assume that the office of antisemitism was not a great success. On the other hand, it is nearly impossible to measure success and failure on these matters. Perhaps things would have been markedly worse without it. In any event, for what was no doubt a barely negligible cost in the bigger scheme of the federal budget, the office was at least a nod toward taking the matter seriously.

Perhaps the new office will have profound impacts that the two eradicated offices did not. The problem is that, in so many ways, antisemitism is different in form and content from other forms of racism. It needs and deserves to be recognized and treated in ways that reflect this meaningful difference.

It is a symptom of the problem of antisemitism itself that this basic recognition of difference elicits condemnations of “Jewish exceptionalism,” or worse. It is an unavoidable truth, though, and the unique challenges of antisemitism are not addressed when elected officials, commentators, academics and antiracist activists seem congenitally incapable of condemning antisemitism without couching that condemnation in a basket of other biases and bigotries that deserve their own condemnation.

It should be reason for concern that the homogenization of antisemitism is now being institutionalized in an agency that lumps biases against Jews – which Statistics Canada says account for 70% of religiously motivated hate crimes and almost one in five of all hate crimes in the country – into a catch-all council dealing with a vast range of social ills. (The fact that antisemitism is grouped with “religiously motivated hate crimes” is a problematic but common misnomer for another editorial.)

A second, seemingly unrelated story in the news last week should amplify this concern.

In a minor political coup, Doly Begum, the deputy leader of the New Democratic Party in the Ontario legislature, blindsided her leader by suddenly resigning her legislative seat and announcing she would run federally – not for their federal counterpart, the NDP, but for Mark Carney’s Liberal party.

Political commentators have had a field day poking the entrails of Ontario’s NDP and wondering what it might mean for the federal Liberal government’s left flank as some people ponder a snap election this year.

Those attuned to other nuances of the story soon found that Begum has been one of the Ontario legislature’s most vocal anti-Israel voices, with a particular inclination toward the “genocide” claim. Given that provincial governments have precisely no foreign policy responsibilities, Begum’s fixation on this issue suggests she may bring a very particular agenda should she be elected in the upcoming by-election.

There is no way that the prime minister, the Liberal party and anyone else involved in these headline-topping machinations was not aware of their new recruit’s repeated and inflammatory comments on this topic.

The welcoming of Begum into the Liberal fold seems like another message to Canadians about this government’s approach to Israel and Palestine and the inevitable fallout of that conflict on domestic harmony.

Coming on the heels of the federal government’s recognition of a “state of Palestine” last year, it is hard to imagine the latest developments as anything short of a slap in the face to Jewish and pro-Israel Canadians, and anyone who cares about combatting Jew-hatred.

Recipes not always required

Were you part of the pandemic sourdough bread baking craze? I’ve been baking bread for around 40 years, but I’m not a sourdough baker. Maintaining the starter was something I couldn’t manage. Although I’ve made many kinds of bread, including weekly challah (twin teens eat a lot!), I found using store-bought yeast was fine. Besides, my biology professor husband disliked the colourful, dangerous things he saw growing when I tried to maintain a starter long ago. He supports our bread habit as we buy one pound of dried yeast at a time.

My approach isn’t exact. However, I produce bread that rises and tastes good even without a recipe. I don’t use all the technical terms that I saw on the internet during the pandemic bread-baking phase. I stick to basic ingredients and easy methods. Bakers have used these successfully for thousands of years.

All this seemed familiar when I started studying the Babylonian tractate of Menachot. Menachot delves into the exact ways the rabbis thought meal (grain) offerings should be measured, cooked, burnt and sacrificed in the Temple in Jerusalem. The rabbis who discussed this mostly lived long after the Temple was destroyed. They’d never seen Temple offerings but they still discussed detailed recipes and techniques for proper sacrifice.

I remember the many online discussions about sourdough science. These were often people who, while baking beautiful pandemic sourdough, had never made bread previously, as I had. Of course, all of us would be shamed before our ancestors who, using a wooden bowl ripe with wild yeast, turned out bread consistently, day in and day out, to feed their families.

You might think, well, this isn’t for me if I don’t bake bread. Perhaps you never have worried about the ancient grain offerings in Jerusalem, or the “shrewbread” that became our modern equivalent, challah. All these discussions came to a head in Menachot, page 18a.

A question arises about whether a specific offering is fit (acceptable) and why. First, we learn about a meaningful teacher-student relationship between Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua and Yosef the Babylonian.

Yosef the Babylonian learns something from Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua that doesn’t seem entirely right to him. He questions his teacher several times. After multiple repetitions of a simple answer, Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua finally gives Yosef the Babylonian more information. He recalls another contradictory teaching from Rabbi Eliezer that agrees with what Yosef the Babylonian remembers.

Yosef the Babylonian erupts in joy. Both men are emotional, moved by the experience they’ve had, where careful analysis brings them important understanding and resolution. Yosef the Babylonian is relieved – he had worried that what he’d remembered was a mistake because he couldn’t find anyone else who recalled what Rabbi Eliezer had taught. Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua cries, filled with wonder. They celebrate Torah study, which maintains an intellectual genealogy of teachers and students by the historic transmission of knowledge. It’s a careful recounting of discussion and disputes, rather than just a simple, reflexive answer.

Menachot 18a, like bread-baking, shows that, if we get bogged down in the technical details, we can also be swept up in the transformation that occurs when we get everything – that we study or bake – right. This story is about mistakes, forgetting, misinformation and complex opinions. This tractate might describe how to do defunct sacrifice recipes correctly. It’s also about how we transmit important knowledge. We need to keep the facts straight, without forgetting anything, and synthesize complex opinions.

This is relevant today. We’re struggling daily to keep track of what’s happening in the world. Is it legal? Is it ethical? How does it affect us? In an age of “instant” information, diminished international reporting, social media disinformation campaigns and simplistic interpretations, it’s no wonder that we need to work hard to figure out what’s happening. It’s just as important now to do one’s own footwork. We must ask questions and analyze information carefully, just as when Yosef the Babylonian sat with his teacher, Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua, sometime between 135 and 170 CE.

We can get swept up in the technical aspects of our lives, whether it’s sourdough baking or legal proceedings. Yet, we also have that practical compass that guides us. I know intuitively, after decades of practice, how to throw together flour, salt, water and yeast, when to add sweetness, oil or eggs, and why. It’s a gut feeling, as deep as my internal moral compass that reacts when I see something wrong happening. Perhaps it’s how Judaism, my family or my community has shaped me, just as environment shapes all of us. Perhaps it’s an innate sense of the worth of each human being, as we are made in the image of the Divine. We know when things are going off the rails, and when we need to keep asking the hard questions to make change.

You could infer that all this refers to the current US upheaval, but it also relates to many other issues. For instance, at home, recent research found that Canadian Jews weren’t wrong about the CBC’s bias in reporting on the Israel-Hamas war. Statistical analysis indicates that yes, headlines, interviewer choices and perspectives lacked objectivity. If you, like me, questioned the CBC’s reporting over the last two years, just like Yosef questioned Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua, this information is reassuring.

Farther away, Israelis care passionately about democracy. Israelis ask their government tough questions, including protesting its poor record in protecting Arab citizens and its failure to provide a sufficient inquiry concerning Oct. 7. Regarding Iran’s upheaval, the Islamic regime’s repression means protesters risk murder, injury, torture and rape. Brave questioning of authority and pursuit of truthful information aren’t specific to one culture or country.

Yosef the Babylonian doubted himself. He repeatedly nudged his teacher. He worried that he’d made a mistake, but then bravely sought clarity to understand the bigger picture. We, too, can be so persistent that authority figures, like our teachers and government officials, must answer with thorough responses. Let’s not get bogged down in the technical details. It’s not whether you say that your bread dough rests, or uses an autolyze. Rather, listen to your gut. Go for the big questions. Think hard. Act to take the moral high ground. We all deserve something better. Let’s hope soon to break bread together, in peace and safety, with emotional, deep discussions.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

When boundaries have shifted

The beginning of January has not been easy in Winnipeg. We’ve dealt with hate crime graffiti, including swastikas, on Shaarey Zedek Synagogue, Kelvin High School, the Abu Bakr Al-Siddique Mosque, as well as a hookah café, residential properties and street signs. For my household, it was personal. It hit our congregation and my kids’ school. It marred street signs near where we live. It defaced a mosque where I know one of the members. This is a lot to deal with. The police triumphantly made an arrest, but, from what I’ve heard, it seems unlikely that this individual did all these crimes. The story is familiar to Canadians at this point. Here it is.

Hate crimes happen. “Oh!” our leaders say. “Hate crimes are horrible. This isn’t Canadian. We will seek justice!” Then, an intermittent flow of outrage and misinformation follows. Suddenly, there’s an arrest. Everything’s solved. Canadians live happily ever after.

That is, until a new crime pops up. When that’s reported, the response sometimes is, “Well, this isn’t fitting into our narrative. We don’t know how this happened.” It even extends to, “Oh, we (police or officials) don’t clean up graffiti, so you can go ahead and do this yourself.” Essentially, another episode is swept under the rug as inconvenient.

I learned about the Overton Window in a social science class years ago. However, when it came up in reference to societal change and antisemitism, I had to review its meaning. The term is neither positive nor negative. It defines something that we have all experienced. Imagine you have a spectrum of beliefs: about school choice, disabilities, tolerance and diversity, human rights, whatever. The term was originally designed to describe how a politician might use a “window” to define policies on this spectrum. Occasionally, it’s used to say where someone’s beliefs fall on the political spectrum. We can shift the Overton Window; for instance, towards increased accessibility for those with disabilities. Some shifts are good, some are not. This term helps describe what’s happening with respect to antisemitism.

As the police described their arrest of the suspect in this recent series of hate graffiti, they said something like they “would have to examine the motive behind the crimes.” I was flummoxed. How could a swastika on a minority’s place of worship or a public school be anything other than an act of hate? Discussion followed about the suspect’s mental health situation, as he is unwell. Soon after he was released from custody, he was arrested again, for breaking into a home and violating the conditions of his release.

Many people have mental health issues, but going out in the dark at 4 a.m. to paint swastikas isn’t a normal, common expression of those challenges. People who perform hateful acts should face consequences. The Overton Window of what is considered “acceptable” antisemitism seems to have shifted.

I’m guessing there are multiple people committing this hate in our city. Yet the narrative here indicates that “Hurray! We’ve got the culprit” and no more effort is being made to resolve the bigger issues.

Meanwhile, I concluded my Daf Yomi (daily page of Talmud study) of Tractate Zevachim, on how sacrifices worked in the days of the Temple in Jerusalem. I’m lucky I didn’t start my learning with this – it felt like a slog. However, I continued studying the tractate, even while I found it somewhat dry and lacking in fun aggadah (stories).

Zevachim examines questions like when is a religious ritual sacrifice acceptable? What is the right physical and mental space for doing these holy rituals? When is it considered transgressive because it’s done wrong? When is it accepted even if it is not done in quite the right time or place? What rituals are exempt from repercussions, even if they are not done exactly right or considered acceptable practices?

These questions are intellectual exercises. We have no Temple in Jerusalem. The rabbis quoted in this approximately 1,500-year-old text didn’t have a Temple anymore. We Jews in modernity don’t do ritual sacrifice. Still, questions about what feels acceptable or forbidden, exempt or meaningful, have real-life repercussions. When the rabbis discussed different parts of ritual, they considered shifting their Overton Window about what they could see as correct, acceptable, exempt from punishment, or such a violation that one was cut off from the Jewish people.

Historically, the Overton Window about what’s considered appropriate discourse or hate speech has also shifted – multiple times. Slurs and crimes against Jews are commonplace throughout millennia. We’ve also had some golden eras, when things felt safe.

This January was another shift in Winnipeg. It’s been horrible, but we knew it was coming. It’s part of a worldwide shift of what’s considered “acceptable” antisemitism. I’ve been asked what can be done. I suggested giving this hate a broad, inclusive definition. Re-read the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance definition. Nothing good is intended when someone spray paints a swastika on a synagogue door. It’s even more of a threat when it’s on a classroom whiteboard or hidden in a Jewish kid’s locker, as was the recent case.

We must educate people about history, including how to avoid antisemitic hate. Make that education required. With definitions and education, our window of what’s acceptable or a crime firms up.

These experiences have felt like a terrible personal violation. It feels threatening and unsafe. Yet, our congregation responded with courage and love. We welcomed many non-Jewish supporters at our Shabbat services afterwards. We responded with pride and inclusivity.

The kid was so brave. He took a photo of the graffiti on his locker, asked a parent for help, went to the school office. Now, there’s a police report, all his classmates know what happened.

The kid also faced extended questioning from administrators about “if he’d told the whole story.” He was told that “everyone makes mistakes.” One lesson the kid learned is that maybe reporting the hate crime itself was a mistake, because, instead of supporting him, the approach involved the suggestion that the victim did the graffiti to begin with. This is bad news, and a familiar type of antisemitism, where Jewish victims are blamed for having “brought it on themselves.” We shouldn’t say this to any victim. It’s not OK. If this is treated as being OK, it means that victims may trust institutions less, and report less often.

Sunshine is the best disinfectant. Actions like education and transparency can clean up and eradicate hate. We don’t know who did this, but we know who we are. We’re Jewish. We’ve been here before. We’re made of stern, proud stuff. The Overton Window has shifted. It’s time to ask our allies to all lean in to help shove it back again.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

A new strategy to brighten up BC

Communities across British Columbia gathered for Hanukkah, including in Vancouver, shown here, and in Delta, Maple Ridge and Whistler. (photo by Caryl Dolinko)

At moments of heightened threat, the instinct to pull inward is natural. Jewish history gives us many reasons to do so. Too often, the dominant public stories about Jewish life are stories of persecution, expulsion and death. Our museums, memorials and education efforts rightly preserve these memories. They matter. But they are not the whole story of who we are.

When those narratives stand alone, they can unintentionally cast Jews primarily as victims rather than as a living people defined by courage, creativity, resilience and contribution. At a time when antisemitism is rising, that framing matters – not only for how others see us, but for how we show up ourselves.

photo - Hanukkah in Delta — Hanukkah in Delta. *(photo from Jewish Federation)*

This question – how to respond without retreating – was at the heart of months of work by an antisemitism task force convened by the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver. Confronting antisemitism cannot rely solely on crisis response. We must, of course, put out fires when they arise. But we must also plant trees – investing in long-term efforts that cultivate allyship while celebrating Jewish life itself, strengthening joy, pride and confidence.

Bringing this approach into being at Hanukkah was not just timely, but strategic. Hanukkah tells a story that stands in contrast to narratives of Jewish victimhood. It is a story of bravery and resistance, of strength and victory against overwhelming odds, of miracles made possible through human action. It is about light that is meant to be seen – placed in windows, carried into public space.

Strong brands matter. They shape perception. They create familiarity and emotional safety. They allow people to connect through shared values and comfort. That is why the Jewish Federation chose not simply to celebrate Hanukkah this year, but to brand it. Brighten BC is a province-wide initiative designed to combat antisemitism through confident visibility and deeper integration into shared civic life.

photo - Hanukkah in Maple Ridge — Hanukkah in Maple Ridge. *(photo from Jewish Federation)*

Over eight nights, nearly 70 public Hanukkah events took place across close to 30 communities throughout British Columbia, a community of about 40,000 Jews. Menorahs were lit in town squares, at local fire halls and other civic sites. Neighbours, first responders, municipal leaders and community partners gathered alongside Jewish families. The City of Vancouver proclaimed the week Brighten BC Week. Destination Vancouver listed Brighten BC celebrations on its “Attractions and Things to Do in Vancouver” webpage. Online, the campaign reached about 19,000 people through #BrightenBC. Initiatives like the Best Hanukkah Donut Contest – engaging nearly 400 participants – reinforced the campaign’s tone: joyful, human and easy to join.

photo - Hanukkah in Whistler — Hanukkah in Whistler. *(photo from Jewish Federation)*

On the first day of Hanukkah, the Jewish world was shaken by the violent attack at Bondi Beach in Australia. But the tragedy did not redefine Brighten BC – it tested it. That morning, event registrations surged across the province as community members and allies chose presence over retreat. Security protocols were immediately elevated, with police and fire departments becoming operational partners to ensure gatherings could proceed safely and openly.

On the first night of Hanukkah, communities gathered across British Columbia, including at the Silber Family Agam Menorah, on the grounds of the Vancouver Art Gallery, the same site where extremists had burned the Canadian flag on the first anniversary of Oct. 7. Gathering there was not an act of provocation. It was an act of belonging.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe taught, “A little light dispels a lot of darkness.” This Hanukkah, we didn’t just celebrate. We invited, we aligned, we showed up. We chose light – and invited others to stand in it with us.

The next phase of this work is about identifying other widely recognized, positively associated cultural moments that can serve as platforms for shared celebration and connection – moments with strong emotional resonance, public expression and low barriers to participation.

– Courtesy Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver

Johnson awarded for human rights work

Pat Johnson has been selected by the government of Romania for the 2025 Ambassador Mihnea Constantinescu National Award for outstanding merits in combating antisemitism, xenophobia, radicalization and hate speech. He was nominated for the honour by the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver.

photo - Pat Johnson — Pat Johnson *(photo courtesy)*

The jury’s decision to award the 2025 prize to Johnson took into account the innovative nature of his activities and their long-term impact, his substantial civic commitment and contributions to public education, Romania’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs said in the announcement.

Johnson, who readers will know, is on the editorial board of the Jewish Independent and has been part of the newspaper for almost 30 years. He is a writer and public figure with more than 30 years of experience promoting human rights and equal opportunities, combating antisemitism, discrimination and prejudice. He is the founder of Upstanders Canada, a grassroots movement to encourage Canadians (especially non-Jewish Canadians) to stand against antisemitism and anti-Zionism. Readers can follow him at pat604johnson.substack.com.

“The work this prize represents – standing against antisemitism, hate and distortion of history – is collective, ongoing, and carried by so many people. I see this prize as encouragement for all people to keep going, to speak clearly, and to just show up,” said Johnson.

Ambassador Mihnea Constantinescu was a senior Romanian diplomat. Among many other things, he served as Romania’s chair of the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance, and chaired the meeting that adopted the working definition of antisemitism.

Killed for being Jewish

For Jews worldwide, the hope represented by the first candle of Hanukkah was snuffed out by the horrifying mass murder at a communal Hanukkah celebration in Sydney, Australia. At press time, 15 were confirmed dead, ranging from a 10-year-old named Matilda to an 87-year-old survivor of the Holocaust, Alex Kleytman.

There have been many antisemitic incidents and attacks in Australia in the past two years, as there have been in many places. One of the reasons this hatred is spreading is the refusal of leaders to recognize and address it specifically as Jew-hatred.

This stubborn blindness was evidenced in the words of Australia’s Prime Minister Anthony Albanese in the immediate aftermath of Sunday’s mass murder.

“An attack on Jewish Australians is an attack on every Australian,” he said.

This is the sort of bromide politicians bring forth in moments like these, almost entirely devoid of meaning and, more significantly, a refusal to see the incident for what it is.

This was absolutely, decidedly, emphatically not an attack on “every Australian.” It was a targeted attack on Jewish Australians and to paint it as anything else – to universalize the very anti-Jewish particularity of the violence – is to deflect attention from the reality and true nature of the problem and ensure no resolution to Australia’s crisis of antisemitism is reached.

An Australian Jewish communal leader said antisemitic incidents in the country are “off the scale,” noting a series of recent antisemitic arsons, which pile upon recent attacks on synagogues, a daycare centre and an Israeli restaurant, as well as a tragically long list of less violent incidents.

The Australian problem is a microcosm of a larger global phenomenon. Government leaders, activists, commentators, NGOs and public figures worldwide for (at least) two years have been condemning Israel in the most malevolent terms, including outright blood libels and slanders that have become so endemic as to be treated as received truth.

The parallels between the tenor of frenzied rhetoric against Israel – including from the highest levels of government, society and media – and the unprecedented spike in antisemitic violence has seemed to spark almost no recognition of cause and effect. An alternative (and perverse) explanation seems to be that the victims of these incidents deserve it, considering their perceived complicity in Zionism.

Given the panorama of tragedy in the world and the myopic focus on the only one involving the Jewish state puts the lie to naïve assessments that there is no correlation here. Or that the Jewish victims are to blame. If overheated rhetoric toward any other identifiable group paralleled extraordinary targeted violence against members of that group (or anyone seen to be in sympathy or associated with them), almost anyone would recognize the correlation.

The Australian government, like so many others, seems to believe they can condemn Israel in the most strident, undiplomatic terms, on the one hand, and claim, on the other hand, shock and dismay – even bewilderment – when violence against Australian Jews erupts.

In the aftermath of the mass murders, Albanese committed to stronger gun laws, which are already some of the strongest in the Western world. Well, OK. But how about stronger laws and customs against antisemitic incitement? How about toning down the declarations from his own government, which some have accused of rewarding the 10/7 terror attacks by nearly instantaneously demanding and then leading a vanguard of nations to unilaterally recognize Palestinian statehood while terrorists are still in control there? How about listening to the voices of Jewish Australians who have been warning for more than two years that this sort of terror was becoming inevitable given the pitch of rhetoric?

It will be noted extensively that the attacks were apparently perpetrated by a father and son who are reported to be migrants from Pakistan. (The father is dead. The son is in hospital with significant injuries.) It should be noted at least as prominently that the man who disarmed one of the attackers is a Syrian Muslim. If we want to paint a broad brush of blame, we must also paint with an equally broad brush of heroism, truly incredible courage and heroic action. Let us not, though, pretend that there are not dangerous strains of cultural and theological antisemitism embedded in some communities that absolutely need to be addressed much more vigorously and vociferously than they are currently being addressed. It is also true that antisemitism knows no borders and has spread to nearly every pocket of the world over the last 2,000-plus years.

Early indications are that Australia is determined to ignore the obvious parallels between unrestrained continual damnation of Israel across society, including at the highest levels, and violence against Jews. Maybe other countries – like ours – will take heed and learn from Australia’s folly before it is too late. We hope so. Canada’s government and civil society have responded very much along the lines of Australia’s throughout these horrible two years.

The complexities of identity

More than 16 years ago, I was accepted into a master class for writing fiction with a well-known regional author at a university near me in Kentucky. I’d written lots of non-fiction and dabbled in fiction. I thought this would be a good opportunity. Shortly after arrival, I realized that this was a fiction class that specialized in Appalachian themes. Although I was from Virginia, my background wasn’t Appalachian. I felt like an outsider. I was also the only Jewish person there. As things progressed, the author suggested we should always “write what we know!” He talked a lot. The class was a lot drier than I’d hoped.

When it was time for short writing exercises based on prompts, I let loose. I purposely wrote to fit in, creating a vignette around church. When it came time to read these pieces, everyone nodded along with my church scenario – I was fitting in, but only because I was purposely faking it. First, I’d proved to myself that “write what you know” wasn’t always necessary, because, of course, famous fantasy or science fiction authors don’t truly know the alternate worlds they dream up. Even fiction authors don’t always know how to do everything they describe in their imaginary worlds. Second, I’d faked being part of the majority religious culture and those classmates bought it.

In the afternoon, it was time to workshop pieces we’d submitted earlier. I’d submitted writing that had been favourably reviewed elsewhere. I felt somewhat confident. However, the workshop’s approach was to criticize without complimenting – and many comments didn’t even seem relevant to what I’d written. When I tried to respond, I was shushed and told I must not know how these kinds of workshops worked. Responding was bad form. I was meant to be “shamed” without recourse. I felt vulnerable and took their unhelpful comments to heart, forgetting that I’d been part of different yet successful writing workshops long before, as a teen at the University of Virginia. The day dragged on. I noted the famed author’s agitation and cigarette smoking at the breaks. I wasn’t having a great learning experience.

I returned home to spend the evening with my husband and my father-in-law, who was visiting from New York. They’d just heard of the sudden death of a close family friend in a skiing accident. I devoted my evening to them and realized that skipping day two of this workshop to be with family was more important. I sent regrets to the famous author’s class, but I mostly felt relief.

Later, I learned that the famous author, whose work was described as traditional, heterosexual rural Kentucky, and who had a wife and small kids, was going through a divorce at the time of the workshop. Later, he became happily married to a man. I wondered again about the “write what you know” and “represent your identity” advice.

This all came to mind when I recently read obituaries of Tom Stoppard and Frank Gehry. Stoppard, a great Czech/British playwright, only addressed his Jewish heritage later in life, when he learned more about what had happened to his family during the Holocaust. Gehry, born to a Polish-Jewish immigrant family in Toronto, heard Talmud from his grandfather as a child. Although Gehry claimed he was an atheist, he attributed his questioning and creativity to the rich encouragement of his childhood. Gehry changed his name from Goldberg to Gehry at the urging of his first wife, who wanted to avoid antisemitism.

I gained access to this fuller description of these creative figures not from a single write-up but from several. If I’d relied on the CBC’s account of Gehry, I’d only have known about his Judaism from his name change and antisemitism concerns; CBC never used the word “Jew” or “Jewish.” The retrospectives on Stoppard’s work came from both the CBC and Jewish publications, but Stoppard’s last name came from a non-Jewish stepfather. That man wanted him to stop using the name Stoppard when his work became too “tribal” or Jewish for his stepfather’s taste.

Stoppard and Gehry were ethnically Jewish and had identity struggles. They and their families wrestled with who they were in a cultural climate that made it hard to be Jewish. I didn’t know either of these men or their families, but the public obituaries and descriptions brought into sharp focus that same feeling I’d had when I wrote about church activities from a first-person perspective.

I remember a family friend who changed his name to avoid quotas, to get into medical school more than 60 years ago. I’d hoped that this need for identity code-switching would no longer be so pressing when I moved to Winnipeg in 2009. For a time, this was true. I didn’t have to be so careful about saying who I was and what that meant. Now, after Oct. 7, this struggle has risen to the forefront again.

Since Oct. 7, 2023, we’ve faced options like whether to downplay our ethnoreligious identity, embrace it with joy and pride, perform it by speaking out against hate or by being a “good Jew” who doesn’t, the kind with whom many non-Jews feel most comfortable.

This isn’t an obvious choice. Many of us code-switch daily. It’s no different than what Jews did during the Hellenizing days leading up to the Maccabees and the Hanukkah story, or the days of the European Enlightenment, when Jews were finally considered “citizens” – up to 1933 or so.

There isn’t a “one size fits all” answer, nor is it clear that anyone would have the same answer for every situation. I often think back to that “famous author,” carefully performing as a heterosexual, married man and droning on as an expert. It may be that we’re all experts on our own identities, but it’s also necessary to name the experiences we have when we purposely or unconsciously obfuscate, struggle or react with pride when it comes to who we are.

Some parts of our identities loom large. Other aspects of who we are may lurk in the background most of the time. We cannot examine these issues until we think about them and name them. It’s easy to tell people to “write what they know.” It’s much harder to write who we are and what we don’t know, especially when it feels unsafe. Further, just like how Gehry and Stoppard’s names changed, we, too, evolve, morph and change over time, even if we don’t know how to describe it.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Jews in time of trauma

Many Jewish Canadians face unique mental health hurdles right now, and many of the professionals they depend on to help them are themselves struggling with related challenges.

The trauma that has affected Jews in recent years – from the horrors of Oct. 7 to the global explosion of antisemitism societally and in the personal lives of diaspora Jews – has created unprecedented needs in the mental health sector. Professionals in the discipline, including Jewish psychiatrists, psychologists, counselors and social workers, are often dealing personally with some of the same issues their clients are confronting.

Dr. Rotem Regev (photo courtesy Rotem Regev)

Dr. Rotem Regev is a Vancouver psychologist with a private practice specializing in trauma, as well as expertise in therapist training, especially addressing practitioner burnout. Burnout in the profession was exacerbated by COVID. Then came Oct. 7.

Within days of the terror attacks, Regev’s inbox filled with requests from Jewish clients, and from therapists. Non-Jewish clinicians approached her about how to counsel their Jewish clients.

She assembled a webinar for non-Jewish practitioners about the intersectionality of trauma and Judaism, called How to Help Your Jewish Client in this Unprecedented Time.

There were 70 non-Jewish therapists in the first webinar.

“At one point, pretty early on, my Jewish therapist colleagues came to me and said, why is this only for non-Jewish therapists? We need to know what to do,” she recalled.

After other collective traumas, like the 9/11 terror attacks or Hurricane Katrina, counselors may have shared trauma with their clients. After 10/7, though, the antisemitism that swept the world meant many clients – and practitioners – did not feel safe seeking the help they needed.

“We can’t turn to our professional colleagues for consultations,” she heard from fellow practitioners. “We feel silenced. We’re unwelcome in places. And then I said, OK, this is unprecedented. There’s nothing about this in the literature. We need to document our experiences.”

Regev sent out questionnaires to more than 250 mental health practitioners in British Columbia who are Jewish. From the responses and her subsequent research, she coined the term “compounded traumatic reality.”

“It’s not only a shared traumatic reality, but it is compounded by the extra layer of antisemitism,” she said. Her paper on the subject was published last month (Nov. 11) in the peer-reviewed Journal of Human Behaviour in the Social Environment.

Regev’s career has taken a decided shift. She created the International Centre for Collective Resilience, which trains mental health professionals in culturally responsive, trauma-informed care around these specific issues. In that capacity, she developed the CHAI Method™ for clinical practitioners to balance the needs of their clients with their own connection to the trauma.

The CHAI Method™ is a four-part framework that begins with “Connect,” where individuals recognize what is happening, followed by “Honour,” which acknowledges identity and lived experience, particularly in an environment where others invalidate these experiences. “Activate” moves the practitioner into culturally responsive strategies and setting appropriate boundaries. “Integrate” transforms the experience into lasting capacity for both the practitioner and their client.

Regev has already delivered trainings in the CHAI Method™ at McGill and Concordia universities in Montreal and will offer it in Vancouver on Feb. 8 and 9.

Eventually, she said, the training could be adapted for healthcare providers – physicians especially are facing profound challenges right now, Regev said – as well as educators, clergy and others who are not accredited mental health providers.

Regev was born and raised in Israel, though she spent several teenage years in Vancouver while her mother was doing a master’s and a PhD in psychology here. She returned to Israel, did her army service, but moved to Vancouver permanently at age 28.

Israelis and diaspora Jews are having parallel but different experiences, she said. While many diaspora Jews lost loved ones on Oct. 7 and in the subsequent war, that experience is almost universal among Israelis. The experience with antisemitism in the diaspora, on the other hand, is not something Jews in Israel live with. Above all, she said, Israelis are having a shared experience with their entire society. For two years, it has been impossible to escape the reality, if for no more apparent reason than the ubiquity of hostage posters and memorial placards everywhere in the country. Jews in the diaspora, no matter how connected they may be to their Jewish community, are nonetheless surrounded by non-Jews living a completely different reality.

For diaspora Jews, finding a mental health practitioner capable of addressing their unique needs has come down to word-of-mouth. Regev hopes there will be a systematization, perhaps a database of professionals accredited in her CHAI Method™, which will provide assurances to clients that the counselor they are engaging with is prepared to consider the specific contemporary experiences of Jews.

There is plenty to be done, Regev said, and she has been balancing these new responsibilities with her clinical and training work, taking on tasks that currently have no dedicated infrastructure or funding behind them. She is seeking financial backing to support her initiatives.

To register for the February seminar or for further information about Regev’s work, visit icfcr.ca. In addition to training, she is also available as a speaker.

Eby touts government record

More than 18 months ago, Charlotte Kates, who is identified as the international coordinator of Samidoun Palestinian Prisoner Solidarity Network, made inflammatory remarks at a rally in Vancouver. She celebrated the 10/7 terror attacks by Hamas against Israel, calling them “heroic and brave” and led the audience in chants of “Long live Oct. 7.” She referred to terrorist organizations as “resistance fighters” and “heroes.”

After an investigation, the Vancouver Police Department recommended charges against Kates based on Criminal Code provisions against incitement of hatred. Later last year, the federal government designated Samidoun a terrorist entity.

A year-and-a-half after the police sent its report to Crown counsel, no charges have been laid. In a year-end interview with BC Premier David Eby, the Independent asked why the attorney general has not acted to either bring charges or to explain why charges are not warranted. The premier assured the paper that he would check with the office of Attorney General Niki Sharma but his office did not respond by press time. The Independent will continue to press the government on the matter.

photo - BC Premier David Eby — BC Premier David Eby told the Independent: “We really have tried to be a government that takes on hate and racism from all angles.” *(photo from BC NDP)*

“It’s a really troubling case and it’s incredibly problematic,” said Eby, adding that he is “reluctant to weigh in too much until I know the exact status of the case.”

Speaking more broadly, Eby acknowledged the message hate crime charges send to the community.

“We believe strongly that an example is set to the broader community when someone is arrested and prosecuted for a hate crime,” he said. “We have seen some very high-profile incidents that have not met the kind of outcomes that I expect and that our government expects through the justice system. So, we’ve been working with Crown and the federal government to be able to come to better results through the criminal justice system.”

Eby touted his government’s range of antiracism initiatives.

In November, he said, the government announced a set of grants for groups targeted by hate and violence, including the Jewish community.

“While the Jewish community has been disproportionately impacted by rising hate, they’re not the only community that has been impacted by some of the international problems we’ve seen [and] a rise in racism here in British Columbia,” he said.

The government has committed to so-called “bubble zone” legislation, which would limit the ability of protesters to access space within a designated distance around religious and cultural institutions. Eby said the legislation is being spearheaded by Sunita Dhir, member of the legislature for Vancouver-Langara and parliamentary secretary for international credentials.

The bubble zone concept is also in the mandate letter for Nina Krieger, the minister of public safety and solicitor general, as well as that of Sharma. A mandate letter is the direction a minister receives on appointment to cabinet outlining what the premier and the government expect them to accomplish.

“They are working on it and we hope to be able to bring forward legislation soon,” the premier said. “I know it’s important for the community. It will not be this session, though.”

In addition to security grants that address negative outcomes, Eby stressed proactive measures that confront underlying hatred and racism.

“We really have tried to be a government that takes on hate and racism from all angles,” he said, citing the introduction of mandatory Holocaust education in the Grade 10 curriculum.

It is early in the process, so Eby could not comment on responses to the new curriculum, but acknowledged that many students had already been learning about the subject even before it was mandated. The fact that he has not heard of any negative outcomes around the rollout of the curriculum suggests to him that all is going to plan.

Anti-bullying programs across the school system are also aimed at inculcating inclusive values in society.

“We have our anti-bullying initiatives that we continue to support within schools, that educate students about the importance of understanding both the differences and strengths that come from our differences in this province,” he said. “Unfortunately, Pink Shirt Day has somehow become controversial with the Conservatives, but not for us.”

Eby was referring to internal Conservative Party discord around the anti-bullying day, with at least one Conservative MLA accusing “the left” of using the day to “bully” people into wearing pink shirts. Another MLA, Elenore Sturko, who was elected as a Conservative and is a lesbian, claims she was forced out of the Conservative caucus in part because of her support for Pink Shirt Day.

“We continue to support the idea that kids should be educated about bullying at an early age because that turns into adults who are more welcoming and understand the strength that our province draws from our diversity,” said Eby.

The government has also set up an antiracism hotline, partly because some people may be reluctant to go to police.

“That hotline connects to community groups that are able to reach out and support people that have faced racism in the community and [are] able to respond to it,” said Eby. “This provides us with information about where these problems are happening and allows us to support community groups with outreach, to be more proactive where there are hotspots of racist activity.”

There is no single solution, the premier said.

“There really is a wide array of initiatives related to this work and, unfortunately, there has been a rise in racism and it has disproportionately impacted the Jewish community,” he said. “We’ve been working to make sure that we’re not taking just one approach, but several approaches to deal with it.”

Eby expressed greetings to the Jewish community at Hanukkah, acknowledging the challenges of this year and optimism for the future. It has been, he said, “a very challenging year for the Jewish community and for all British Columbians who believe in a hate-free province and believe in the strength that comes from our diversity.

“I am certain that 2026 and forward will be better and I sincerely hope and expect that our shared work together, between government and the Jewish community, will lead to the kind of outcomes we’re looking for, which is a safe, prosperous and welcoming province for everybody.”

Keep lighting candles

We were intrigued to receive notice of the 2026 PuSh International Performing Arts Festival, which takes place in January and February. The festival has been running for more than two decades and bills itself as “a creative hub for dialogue.”

“The 2026 PuSh festival is an invitation to the culturally fearless – to those ready to step into fresh futurities and the uncharted possibilities of live performance,” said artistic director Gabrielle Martin in the media release that landed in our inbox recently.

Curious words for a festival that last year demonstrated cowardice that redefines the term.

The controversy centred on a play titled The Runner – a one-person offering by non-Jewish playwright Christopher Morris. The story is set in Israel and has as its focus an ultra-Orthodox Jewish ZAKA volunteer who faces an ethical decision: when encountering a wounded Palestinian woman, he opts to save her rather than pursue an Israeli soldier’s body.

The play had garnered acclaim, having won multiple awards in Canada, and was to be featured at the 2024 PuSh festival. The Belfry Theatre in Victoria had already canceled its planned 2024 run of the show after the theatre was vandalized and a public dialogue was overtaken by protesters.

The scheduled PuSh production was also targeted. Some critics complained that the play centred Jewish experience while marginalizing Palestinian voices and trauma, presumably because depicting an Israeli as a complex moral character was beyond the pale.

One Palestinian artist participating in the festival said he would withdraw his work if The Runner remained in the lineup. Organizers caved, couching their gutlessness in self-adulatory language of prioritizing artists whose perspectives were “underrepresented” given current events.

If the festival was indeed committed to “fearless” exploration, The Runner was an ideal vehicle for that sort of examination. Instead, organizers brought shame upon the arts sector, betraying the very values PuSh specifically and the arts in general are expected to advance.

Keeping up with incidents of hypocrisy these days is a game of Whack-a-Mole, but we cannot overlook the vote by the BC Green Party to adopt a so-called “Anti-Genocide Motion” at their provincial convention. The motion declares that the party will “oppose genocide, apartheid, systemic discrimination and colonial violence – at home and around the world.”

In supporting the motion, the party’s new leader, Emily Lowan, stated that the Greens consider the recent war in Gaza to constitute “genocide” and “colonial violence.”

The motion and the leader’s full-throated support for it is especially disappointing because, under previous leaders, the BC Greens had resisted the spiral of their federal party into this sort of hyperbolic and ahistoric anti-Zionism.

We could go on. There is literally not the space in this column or in these pages to delineate the myriad causes for Jewish disenchantment these days. This, though, is not justification for despair. History has presented Jews with challenges in the past, put mildly.

If these developments and their hypocrisy raise your heart rate, consider using that energy as fuel to build something better. The world is troubled right now, for Jews and for others, too, but it is a Jewish tradition – especially at this moment in the calendar – to light a candle rather than to curse the darkness.

If you are expending energy complaining to your friends about these events, consider more active ways to effect positive changes. For example, you can contact the Green Party and tell them you are affronted by their adoption of a resolution that debases the term “genocide,” misrepresents events globally and foments intercultural division at home. Contact the PuSH festival and their sponsors to tell them you haven’t forgotten their illiberal folding to coercion. Support arts institutions that continue to host and produce Israeli and Jewish art and artists, and our own community arts and culture organizations, which have faced additional challenges over the last two-plus years. Whenever you are angered or disappointed, remember that action is the antidote to helplessness and hopelessness. Just one candle can illuminate the darkness and bring hope and inspire change.