education

Shoah education continues

Dr. Claude Romney speaking to students pre-COVID. (photo from Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre)

For many years, people dedicated to educating about the Holocaust and its moral lessons have been adapting to new realities. The declining number of survivors and the need to preserve their eyewitness testimony has necessitated innovative means of conveying these lessons to successive generations. As a result of these preparations, organizations like the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre (VHEC) have been remarkably prepared to continue their work despite the limitations imposed by a global pandemic.

Dr. Claude Romney has been sharing her wartime experiences with younger audiences for several years. Her father, Dr. Jacques Lewin, was arrested in Paris at the end of 1941 and was among the first prisoners transported to Auschwitz. While Romney and her mother survived the war in southern France, evading numerous close calls, her father survived the most notorious Nazi camp because his skills were useful to the Nazis – he was a doctor who was put into service at the camp. Romney has researched and spoken about the experiences of her father and other “prisoner-doctors.”

Since the pandemic began, Romney has done two virtual presentations to schools and, while she wishes the talks could be in person, she is grateful that the technology exists to allow them to happen at all.

“I personally, and I think the other survivors who continue to talk to students online, have to be grateful both to the [Vancouver] Holocaust Education Centre and, of course, most of all, to the teachers who still get in touch and haven’t given up,” she said. “It’s something which could easily have fallen by the wayside. I think it’s very fortunate that teachers are dedicated enough to continue.”

A year and counting into the pandemic, Romney said the global upheaval could have led to lost opportunities.

“We feel there is some urgency because we’re not getting any younger,” she said. “It’s very important.”

The online events differ, depending on the audience. Some classes that are still meeting in person are set up so that the speaker sees the teacher but not the entire class. When classes are virtual, the speaker is one of many faces on a Zoom call.

“This would never have been possible for students 15 years ago, 10 years ago maybe even,” Romney said. “It makes a big difference because, of course, there are books and articles, but it’s not the same as hearing somebody tell their personal stories.”

While the survivor speakers are talking about their past, the lessons they aim to impart are for the present and future.

“I think it’s vital that the new generations know about what happened because it’s up to them to prevent this kind of thing from happening again,” she said. “And to understand that it’s vital to be tolerant of other people who may be different in some ways because they come from different cultures, different religions. It’s a cautionary tale really.”

Ashley Ross has been teaching a course in genocide studies at Aldergrove Community Secondary School for four years. She can attest that students make connections between the present and the past – and that relevance has been honed more sharply in the past couple of years.

“When I first started teaching it, it was very hard for them to understand the German context of that era,” she said, noting that she was challenged to demonstrate the “slippery slope” of hatred, fear and scapegoating. Sadly, students understand that phenomenon better than just a few years ago. “Right now, they are immediately seeing connections and understanding and seeing it play out in their current world.… More than ever, the lessons of the power of propaganda and the fear and the scapegoating are really resonating in our world. It’s through those historical lessons that we are better equipped to process what we’re currently facing.”

She maintains that the survivor speakers’ virtual events are every bit as powerful on the students as an in-person one. She even sees a benefit in the fact that, when they know they can’t be seen by the speaker, students may be more open with their emotional responses.

“Because the Holocaust survivor is only looking at my face rather than their faces, I find that it’s often more raw for the students. In a large auditorium, it doesn’t have that same personal impact,” said Ross, who has led a student trip to Europe that included a visit to Auschwitz.

Sharing firsthand accounts with young generations puts a human face to a part of history that is enormous in scope and perhaps remote in time from the perspective of a teenager.

“I think there’s a sense of honour to have a direct connection to this history that sometimes feels so far away,” she said. “It’s a reminder that it isn’t so far away. I think it’s really impactful to hear first-person accounts [about] something that can get so bogged down in huge numbers.”

photo - Dr. Ilona Shulman Spaar, education director and curator at the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre — Dr. Ilona Shulman Spaar, education director and curator at the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre. *(photo from vhec.org)*

Dr. Ilona Shulman Spaar, education director and curator at the VHEC, acknowledges that her team did not know what to expect when the pandemic began a year ago. At the same time, the remote delivery of programs and resources that was necessary due to COVID was something for which the centre was already prepared. Not only were Holocaust survivors and other educators delivering virtual talks to student groups in remote parts of British Columbia, a vast digitization process over the past several years has made much of the centre’s collections accessible online, including artifacts, documents, written testimonies and videos.

“In a way, that’s nothing new for us,” she said.

Some research requests saw an uptick as teachers encouraged students to undertake individualized projects – and because the revised provincial curriculum also emphasizes “self-directed learning.”

The VHEC also saw an increase in donations of artifacts and documents. This may be because people are spending more time at home and deciding to clean out attics and closets. Shulman Spaar also thinks people may have a little more time to read the communications they send to supporters, which often include appeals for family records and other items.

Echoing the Aldergrove teacher, Shulman Spaar thinks another factor for increased interest in the VHEC’s programs and resources may be due to current events. Political situations in the United States and around the world, the increased awareness of violence against minority communities and other topics in the news daily underscore the relevance of the organization’s work.

“Ultimately, we are an anti-racism-based Holocaust education centre,” she said. “If you look at what’s going on, it does seem very relevant at the moment.”

There were challenges in rapidly scaling the delivery of virtual programs to more groups. Docents, educators and survivor speakers had to learn the new technologies and adapt their messages to the medium.

Conversely, there have been silver linings. Some survivors who, for health or mobility reasons, could not present their testimonies in person have been able to do so virtually. As capacity has grown for delivering programs remotely, so have requests. The VHEC has welcomed invitations from other provinces, as well as schools in northern British Columbia and other remote parts of the province where survivors are unlikely to visit.

Moreover, said Shulman Spaar, some participants have commented that seeing survivors in their own homes, rather than on a stage, is unexpectedly powerful.

“It’s not the same as an in-person encounter,” she acknowledged, “but, also, hearing the speaker speaking from her or his living room, it’s a different intimate situation that happens. Yes, there is this screen still, but some students and teachers comment how they feel very close and it feels like an intimate encounter rather than being in a big hall and on a stage.

“It’s just different,” she said.

Shalhevet annual gala

Shalhevet Girls High School will honour Shelley Rivkin at its gala on April 11. (photo from Shalhevet)

On April 11, at its annual gala, Shalhevet Girls High School will honour Shelley Rivkin as a Guardian of the Flame.

“Every year, we honour a Jewish woman who is passionate and dedicated to the Jewish community,” Vivian Claman, president of the Shalhevet board, told the Independent. “Shelley personifies the kind of woman we inspire our students to become – independent thinkers and leaders in their communities. Shelley not only works hard for the Jewish community but for the Vancouver community, as well.

Rivkin is the third woman to be so honoured by Shalhevet. Anita Silber was the first, in 2019, and Sarah Berger was recognized last year.

Rivkin is vice-president of planning, allocations and community affairs for the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver. She is an adjunct professor of social work at the University of British Columbia and at Langara College, and she is a member of British Columbia’s Multicultural Advisory Committee.

“My parents were a significant influence,” said Rivkin about her choice of career and her participation in community. “My mother was a social activist and early feminist who introduced me to many of the ideas that contributed to my decision to go into social work, while my father was deeply connected to Jewish values and traditions. Both believed in the value of volunteer work and had me volunteering for a variety of causes from an early age.

“My Jewish education at Schara Tzedeck and involvement in both NCSY and BBYO also provided me with a deeper understanding of Judaism and Jewish life that I have carried with me throughout my career.

“There have also been some amazing women who have inspired me along the way,” she noted. “The late Rosemary Brown, who I had the privilege of meeting when I was in university, really opened my eyes to the barriers and obstacles that many women were facing and continue to face in our society.”

Rivkin’s specific areas of responsibility at Jewish Federation include community planning, local grants distribution, Jewish education, partner agency relations and community security. While she was hired in 2007, she had volunteered with the organization for a couple of years before that.

“In 2005, I was asked to chair the poverty coalition,” she explained. “This connection brought me closer to the work of Jewish Federation and, as I took on more volunteer responsibilities, I became more intrigued by the work that Federation did on a daily basis. In 2007, Federation went through a restructuring process to move toward a closer alignment between central planning and financial resource development. A new senior position was created, and [then-Federation head] Mark Gurvis asked me to apply. This was an opportunity to connect my Jewish values to my day-to-day work.

“The most rewarding aspects of the job are when you can move from project inception to project completion,” she said. “The most recent example was the establishment of the Food Security Task Force in 2017. I was responsible for staffing the task force. The task force released their report in late 2018. The report had an important impact in raising awareness about the depth of food insecurity in our community. Through the hard work of Jewish Family Services and many generous donors, we have seen the implementation of one of the key recommendations of that report, the establishment of an integrated food hub. This has been very rewarding.”

Rivkin feels strongly about the benefits of a Jewish education.

“I am setting up an endowment with the Jewish Community Foundation that I hope that Shalhevet supporters will contribute to,” she said. “Over time, the interest earned on the capital can enable Shalhevet to support special projects that are not covered through their general operations.

“I am setting this up because I believe strongly that young Jewish women should have full access to quality general studies and Judaics education. As an Orthodox woman myself, I am committed to ensuring that young Orthodox women living in Vancouver have the best educational opportunities available.”

Currently, Shalhevet has 14 students enrolled for the 2020-2021 school year, and they anticipate around the same number of students for the next year, Meira Federgrun, head of school, told the Independent. “What we lack in student numbers, we definitely make up in enthusiasm and involvement,” she said.

About how the school has been coping with COVID-19, Federgrun shared, “As with all schools in B.C., Shalhevet had to craft a safe return-to-school document that was approved by the Ministry of Education before the start of the school year last September; we have been doing full-time, in-person learning since then. We have sanitizing products available throughout the school and high-touch surfaces, as well as equipment, are sanitized several times a day. Our staff and students wear masks in all areas of the school, including the main room and classrooms, and remove them to eat or drink.

“Because Shalhevet is a small school,” she said, “our entire staff and student body is considered one cohort, so we are fortunate in that we don’t have to worry about a lot of the restrictions and traffic flow that larger schools with multiple cohorts have. As a result, we’ve been able to provide our students with as ‘normal’ a daily school experience as possible.”

The annual gala is the only way the school raises money. “It’s our once-a-year fundraiser,” said Claman. “It’s also a way to bring awareness of Shalhevet’s great contribution to the community and its importance in maintaining a thriving Orthodox community.”

Part of the virtual celebration will be a piece performed by the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra, which was organized by Danielle Ames Spivak, chief executive officer of the Friends of the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra.

It will include “an introduction from [Irit Rub] the director of KeyNote, the musical education department of Israel Philharmonic, talking about the relevance of education and music,” said Claman. “Every year, we offer some form of entertainment, like comedians, a magician, etc., but we had to find something that would be conducive to online entertainment.”

Also part of this year’s gala, said Claman, “For the first time ever, we will be showing a video taking an inside look at Shalhevet.”

For her part, Rivkin said, “I am so grateful to the Shalhevet community to be honoured this way. It has been so uplifting for me to know about this honour, especially following such a challenging year.”

R2R fest teaches, entertains

Seu Jorge, left, and Noah Schnapp in a still from Abe. (image from Reel 2 Real)

The upcoming Reel 2 Real International Film Festival for Youth is not just for youth, though younger viewers are its target audience. There are entertaining and engaging films for all ages among the 18 features and 45 shorts that will be available for streaming online April 14-23.

The focus of this year’s festival is “films that explore the impact of social media, racism and discrimination, with a focus on Germany.” While many of the offerings will interest Jewish community members, at least four cover topics of specific relevance.

The American feature Abe was part of the recent Vancouver Jewish Film Festival. It is carried by the impressive acting of Noah Schnapp as 12-year-old Abe and that of Seu Jorge as Chico, the Brazilian-American chef that Abe idolizes. The food, glorious food, is an added bonus.

While the writing of Abe’s family dynamics is clunky and without nuance – his father’s side is Muslim, his mother’s Jewish, and never the twain shall meet on religion or the Palestinian-Israeli conflict – Abe himself is charming. He puts his heart into trying to bring everyone together, in part, by creating a fancy dinner that comprises several of his grandmothers’ traditional recipes. The grumpy but caring Chico helps, having reluctantly taken Abe in, first as a dishwasher then as one of his prep cooks.

Food doesn’t turn out to be the way to his family members’ hearts but the disastrous fusion meal, which ends in a big fight and Abe running away, does push his family to at least reconsider their priorities.

***

still - Mouize and Ranin become friends over popcorn and a shared love of cinema in Cinema Rex — Mouize and Ranin become friends over popcorn and a shared love of cinema in *Cinema Rex. (image from Reel 2 Real)*

In another charming film, the young also show the adults the possible way to some form of peace. In the Israeli animated short Cinema Rex, the Jewish boy Mouize and the Arab girl Ranin become friends over popcorn and a shared love of cinema.

Set in Jerusalem in 1938, a new movie theatre opens, “In the heart of the city, on the seam line between the Jewish side and the Arab side, and adjacent to the British police.” It is “co-owned by partners from both sides of [the] divided city” and Mouize’s dad is the projectionist. When Mouize catches a glimpse of someone peeking into the projection room, he follows the trail of popcorn to Ranin, who shares it with him in exchange for a seat beside him in the best seats in the house. The two imagine themselves as the heroes in Robin Hood, as actors in a Laurel and Hardy film, dancers in a Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movie, and more.

Ranin’s mother is non-plused to find her daughter hanging out with Mouize, and Mouize’s dad tries to tell him, “Someday, you’ll understand why you and she can’t be friends.” But the kids have none of it.

Beautifully drawn and a story simply told – in Arabic, English and Hebrew with English subtitles – this short is highly recommended viewing.

***

still - Alina is a tension-filled short film — *Alina* is a tension-filled short film. *(image from Reel 2 Real)*

A more serious and nerve-wracking short is the tension-filled American film Alina. For 25 minutes, breathing will be more difficult, as the fate of a three-month-old baby lies in the hands of Alina (played by Alia Shawkat). The non-Jewish woman is part of a group of women (and men, as her brother helps) who are smuggling Jewish children out of the Warsaw Ghetto during the Holocaust.

Inspired by factual events, but fictional, the film opens as Nazi soldiers kick their way into a building and make their way up each floor, searching every room for children, with orders to seize them. Alina must escape from an upper-level apartment with the baby through the bathroom window, using a makeshift rope of tied sheets. She must then meet her brother, make it through a checkpoint and even face Nazi soldiers in her own home, as a Nazi captain accompanies her there from the checkpoint, so convinced is he that she is hiding something from him.

Alina is a multiple-award-winning film for many reasons. And it precedes the fascinating feature-length documentary The Lesson, which sees its Canadian première at Reel 2 Real.

photo - The Lesson director Elena Horn — *The Lesson* director Elena Horn. *(image from Reel 2 Real)*

Through the lens of German filmmaker Elena Horn, who herself grew up in Fröndenberg and went to Fröndenberg Comprehensive School, The Lesson is a personal look at how students in Germany are taught about the Holocaust. Over a five-year period, Horn followed a handful of students through their classes on the topic, their projects and field trips. She juxtaposes this perspective with archival footage from the 1930s, showing children doing paramilitary exercises, learning about what makes a good German and other propaganda. She also includes current-day nationalism and how some of the students deal with the differences between what they’re being taught in school about the Holocaust and what their families have told them about that period in time.

Horn frames the content in the context of overarching questions such as, could the Holocaust have been initiated by other countries just as easily as in Germany, or is there something inherent about Germany that allowed it to start there? She wonders if history is repeating itself, and she continues to struggle with the question, “What would I have done?” She highlights some of the efforts of those who refused to be bystanders to genocide, and she hopes to inspire some viewers to be courageous if, God forbid, they ever face such a choice.

***

For the full festival schedule and tickets, as well as information on Reel 2 Real’s several youth programs and workshops, visit r2rfestival.org.

Navigating gender, sexuality

Marion Rom, who works with gender-diverse youth, spoke as part of a Beth Tikvah-hosted panel on the topic Navigating Gender and Sexuality in the 21st Century. (screenshot)

“Almost one-third of people who have gender dysphoria will attempt suicide and have mental health issues, and that’s why we often have such a high rate of kids with eating disorders who are transgender,” said Marion Rom, a counselor who works with gender-diverse youth in the Lower Mainland.

Rom was speaking as part of a March 11 panel on the topic Navigating Gender and Sexuality in the 21st Century. She defined gender dysphoria as when “your body doesn’t match the sense of who you are.” She also explained to the 65-plus attendees of the discussion the difference between sex and gender, some of the terminology around gender, and a few resources for those who want to learn more.

The panel, which was hosted by Beth Tikvah Congregation, also included Dean Kaplan, who joined the conversation from Washington, D.C., and the Abelson family – Kay, Bernard and their son Jason – who live here. The discussion was started by the congregation’s spiritual leader, Rabbi Susie Tendler.

“I think that we have a special mission, as the Jewish people, of finding people who have a potential to be marginalized and always elevating them, along with elevating everyone, to ensure that we are all in a sacred space,” said Tendler. She described her rabbinate as being “about opening doors” and a kehila kedosha, holy community, as one that creates pathways for everyone to be welcome in sacred spaces. She thanked the Zoom participants for their efforts in opening the door of community wider to “welcome everyone as their authentic selves because that’s the only way that, I believe, we really approach God.”

Rom was asked to speak by BT congregant Linda Steiner, who had heard Rom’s talk at a Habonim alumni meeting last year. The presentation was geared to older people, like Rom herself, who is 63.

She defined sexuality, and explained several terms, including lesbian (a female attracted to another female), heterosexual (females attracted to males and vice versa), bisexual (someone attracted to both males and females) and pansexual (someone attracted simply to the person, irrespective of gender). She broke down the acronym LGBTQ+ (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer; with the plus including but not limited to asexual, two spirit, and allies). She also went through some of the gender terminology, such as cisgender (“either male or female”) and transgender (someone whose sense of self doesn’t match their birth gender). She spoke briefly about hormone therapy and gender reassignment surgery.

For people wanting to start learning more about gender and sexuality, Rom suggested the books Love Lives Here by Amanda Jette Knox and Transgender Children and Youth: Cultivating Pride and Joy with Families in Transition by Elijah Nealy, the Israeli documentary Family in Transition and the narrative film The Danish Girl (or the book from which it was adapted, written by David Ebershoff).

Dean Kaplan, 28, who goes by the pronouns they, them and their, came out as non-binary a couple of years ago. They spoke about how they see themselves and their relationship to how the world sees people like them. Describing themselves as Jewish, white and having grown up upper-middle-class and with privilege, Kaplan acknowledged that these factors have “contributed to me being able to live as myself comfortably.”

Despite that comfort, Kaplan first came out as queer in terms of their sexuality, at the age of 17 or 18, before identifying as gender-nonconforming.

“An important part of identifying as queer in almost any part of the world,” said Kaplan, “is not only understanding who you are, but also, in some ways, accepting this label as ‘deviant’ by society.”

In their early 20s, Kaplan began to realize “I very much enjoy connecting with parts of myself that would be considered feminine,” such as having longer hair and wearing tights.

From a young age, they said, “I’ve had this latent sense of difference in how I want to emotionally connect with people and that played a lot into my sense that I was gender-nonconforming. I think also a little bit of it is this sense that I want to live in a world and exist in space without a lot the negative aspects of masculinity that I was raised to cherish in a lot of ways. I’m still aware of the fact that almost all of my male friends are embarrassed to cry, even alone; it’s a sign of anti-masculinity. And so, being non-binary for me is very freeing in a lot of ways. I can be who I want to be and who I feel I am without the kind of embarrassment or labels that go with certain actions for certain genders.”

That said, the reactions to their coming out were mixed and some were hurtful. They get misgendered every day – “sometimes I correct, sometimes I don’t,” said Kaplan. That will depend, for example, on whether the person making the mistake is a superior at work or a peer. “Power and economics play into my ability to be myself in the spaces I happen to be in,” they said.

Jason Abelson, 24, started his transition in 2012, but his first memory of wanting to be a boy goes back to a gymnastics class when he was in preschool, so 4 or 5 years old. Initially, he attended an Orthodox elementary school in South Africa, where he was born, but his parents switched him to a public school. He used the fact that he was a swimmer to cut his hair short in Grade 4. He hated it when his parents would correct people who would mistake him for being a boy. “I just wanted to go and hide somewhere,” he said.

When his chest began to develop in puberty, he would try and hide it, but, eventually, he quit swimming. He has since picked the sport up again, and has joined an LGBTQ+ team.

When he was younger, he said, “I didn’t know what transgender was. I didn’t know that you could transition, that the feelings I had for wanting to be a boy were experienced by anyone else until an Oprah show that my mom was watching one summer’s afternoon. In that Oprah show, they had a transgender guy and his family, and shared his story.”

Seeing the possibilities for himself, Abelson thought about next steps and started the process of transitioning, one part of which is convincing a psychologist “that you are transgender.” He then saw an endocrinologist. In Grade 10 at the time, he stayed at the same school throughout. “I finished the first semester as a girl; came back five days later as a boy,” he said. “All we did was we changed the name on the class list.”

While he was given a key to the teacher’s washroom, he didn’t want to call attention to himself, so he avoided using the facilities. “Bathrooms still do give me a little bit of anxiety,” he said.

He started hormones nine years ago, at age 15. About a year after that, he had top surgery – prior to that he had used binders to keep his chest down.

With respect to going to an Orthodox shul after he started his transition, Abelson was told that he could come to services but would have to sit in the women’s section. Even now, attending a new synagogue and sitting on the men’s side, he said, “I don’t feel like I have a place in the shul. Being gay as well, I can’t get married in that shul, so that’s still a world that is being navigated.”

Kay Abelson spoke about both the emotional journey and the “very practical life journey.” She said she struggled with those early years when her son was asserting his identity – in his clothing choices and in his desire to cut his hair short, for example.

“I found it really hard, as a mother,” she acknowledged. “And it did cause some conflict in our family.” However, she noted, “For me, the time before Jason’s transition was more of a struggle than once he transitioned…. I found the earlier time hard, before we knew what we were dealing with. Bernard and I both always had a sense that there was something with Jason when he was growing up, but we just could not put our finger on it. And so, that moment of him watching the Oprah show and having that ah-ha moment was a huge turning point for all of us.”

It took time for her and her husband to understand and digest what was happening. She had fears about what people would think and say, but people were supportive and accepting, she said.

“When you start thinking about the history and the background about all those situations that Jason mentioned,” said Bernard Abelson, such as the first time he cut his hair short. “All I wanted to do was get him earrings so that he could look more feminine.” When people would refer to his son, “I was immediately defending, ‘This is my daughter.’… I thought I was

defending him. That’s the irony of all that, is that, as a parent, you think you’re doing the right thing by

defending them … but, at the end of the day, for him, as you’ve heard, it wasn’t working for him at all.”

One thing that helped the family was watching the documentary Becoming Chaz, about Chaz Bono’s transition. Watching it helped Bernard Abelson to accept, “This is real.”

“It’s been an incredible, incredible journey for all of us,” said Kate Abelson.

While some parents go through a mourning period for the son or daughter they once had, Kay Abelson said, “I never felt like I lost anything. In fact, I actually gained something through the process because, before Jason’s transition, as you heard in his story, he never felt comfortable with who he was. He was always yearning to be someone different, so he was never really happy within himself…. When he transitioned and he could actually stand loud and proud and be who he was … it was just so exciting.”

Rom reentered the conversation by stressing that the level of grieving varies among families. She then opened the question-and-answer session that included Dean Kaplan’s dad, Des Kaplan, talking about some of his challenges in understanding his child’s gender and sexuality. There was also discussion about Jewish tradition, which identifies at least six genders, and that some Jewish communities have changed the b’nai mitzvah rituals to be more gender-inclusive.

To watch the panel discussion, without the Q&A, visit btikvah.ca/inclusion-and-diversity.

Mandylicious babka baking

Mandy Silverman (photo from mandyliciouschallah.com)

Dozens of eager bakers joined Mandy Silverman, aka Mandylicious, for an evening of “thinking inside the braid,” as she shared various ways of making babkas – as well as her enthusiasm towards them – during a Zoom class hosted by Congregation Schara Tzedeck before Passover.

Silverman, a self-described “carbololgist,” is founder of Mandylicous Challah in Sharon, Mass. She was accompanied in this pre-Pesach virtual baking binge – titled Babkalicious with Mandylicious – by her husband and assistant, Dannylicious. The setting was their East Coast kitchen, where, by the time the first ingredients hit the mixing bowl, it was past 10 p.m., for them.

She demonstrated both traditional and new-wave babkas: the first, a standard babka twist filled with chocolate and, the second, shaped like a flower and filled with cookie dough. The secret for the latter’s filling is brown sugar, Silverman confided.

Throughout the presentation, she provided the audience with numerous pointers regarding the dough. Her recipes called for a more glutenous flour, one that is called bread flour – as opposed to all-purpose flour – which “helps the dough ball up easier.” Early on, she emphasized the importance of using instant yeast, which “means that it can just be added in with the rest of the ingredients in no particular order.” She suggested one should avoid quick-rise or rapid-rise yeasts, except when there is no alternative available.

“You can use it – you just have to proof it first. To proof active dry yeast, use the same amount (one tablespoon) but add it to one-third cup [of] 40ºC water and a pinch of sugar, and mix. When it bubbles, the yeast has been activated and can be added to the rest of the ingredients. Use one-third cup less water in the rest of the recipe,” she said.

photo - A heart-shaped chocolate babka made by Mandy Silverman, aka Mandylicious — A heart-shaped chocolate babka made by Mandy Silverman, aka Mandylicious. *(photo from facebook.com/mandyliciouschallah)*

“Dough consistency is crucial,” she stressed. “Dough that is too wet will be hard to shape and won’t bake properly. Dough that is too dry will not rise well and [will] taste dense and floury. The goal is to create a cohesive ball of dough that is not floury to the touch. Dough consistency can vary from kitchen to kitchen based on weather, humidity levels and type of flour used. You can get your dough to the proper consistency simply by adding flour or water, one or two tablespoons at a time, as the dough comes together, before the first rise – dough consistency will not improve as the dough rises.

“If you are finding that you are having to add a lot of flour, try using one-third cup less water at first and adding more as necessary,” she added. “After the first rise, dough can be refrigerated for up to five days or frozen for up to a month.”

Completely self-taught, Silverman became curious about baking after a family friend in her hometown of St. Louis would not divulge the recipe of a challah filled with honey. Before then, she confessed, she had never made anything with yeast, but decided to face the challenge.

Silverman started Mandylicious in 2013. During American Thanksgiving that November, which coincided with Chanukah, she posted an image of a turkey-shaped challah with a pumpkin-flavoured stuffing on Facebook. The image was so widely shared that people drove from as far away as New Hampshire and Maryland to purchase her challah. Since then, she has created more than 300 challah and babka recipes and has developed a worldwide following, including more than 33,000 Instagram followers.

Her fearlessness with challah and babka indicates that nearly all things can go well with the right dough. Among her culinary inventions, which she has described as “a diving board into carbs,” are Buffalo chicken challah, salami challah, pistachio pesto-stuffed challah and a red-velvet Christmas challah. Recent variations posted on her Instagram page have included challah French toast with a caramel core, rainbow-coloured challah (with rainbow sprinkles) and a strawberry and vanilla babka with a Fruity Pebbles crust.

Besides selling challah and babka and teaching classes, Silverman loves sharing recipes and tips, and supporting others who want to make their own challah. In the Boston area, Mandylicious offers a rotating assortment of gourmet challot. She uses 100% kosher and dairy-free ingredients and keeps a kosher kitchen.

For the recipes covered during the March 18 lesson, go to images.shulcloud.com/197/uploads/MandyliciousBabkaClass-Vancouver.pdf. Silverman is open to questions and can be direct messaged @mandyliciouschallah on Instagram.

Silverman’s class was part of the eight-part Schara Tzedeck Speaker Series. Two speakers remain: Rabbi Dr. Edward Reichman, a professor at Montefiore Medical Centre and the Albert Einstein College of Medicine, on April 11; and Judaics educator Michal Horowitz, from Five Towns, N.Y., on April 25. The Zooms start at 7 p.m. Register via scharatzedeck.com.

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

Change can be a good thing

One of my twins is always looking for something new to learn online. For awhile, he was fascinated by a Massachusetts service dog project, where Great Danes are trained to provide support to those with balance and mobility impediments. He found this amazing service dog program through the website explore.org. It has live cams of animals all over the world. While we’re not traveling anywhere, my kid is bird watching, seeing service dogs, polar bears, and more. When we least expect it, he rushes up with his iPad and demands that I admire a nesting owl, or that his biologist dad identify an animal he’s never seen before.

This kind of intellectual curiosity is something I’m excited to see. Open-ended questioning about the world and how it works is a special kind of Jewish exploration. This intensity and enthusiasm is how we delve into studying Torah and Talmud, or how we engage with the world in general.

Passover is an obvious time to think about questions and how we approach and answer them. Our families have been telling the Exodus and “Once we were slaves and now we are free” story for thousands of years! Still, our questioning can’t just stick to the Four Questions and be done. Sometimes, even with good intentions, we get hung up on the rote narrative of the seder. We know we have to get through it. We start at the beginning and head to the end. It’s a yearly ritual routine, punctuated by matzah, lots of other foods, wine, and, in normal times, family and guests.

When we were first married, I once attended a smaller seder with some of my husband’s family. I was excited and nervous to engage over the Haggadah’s ideas – but it didn’t turn out as I expected. The family was committed to getting through the ritual traditionally and to the food part. They looked uncomfortable when I tried to talk about ideas or ask questions. In retrospect, I realized I knocked them off their game. There was a seder routine – and I wasn’t following theirs.

My other twin is also learning. He’s not into the animal live cams. Instead, he comes up with questions about school projects. He brainstorms and makes suggestions, even when they’re not welcome. The remote learning teacher suggested he limit his research on one social studies project to their “class time” online rather than do more research later.

Of course, the minute he logs off, I help him look up his questions and learn – whenever he wants. His teacher maybe wants to slow down the group learning, or avoid making more social studies lesson plans, but feeding intense curiosity with knowledge helps enthusiastic learners blossom. In my experience, putting somebody off when they want to learn more feels negative and does the opposite.

For many people, the pandemic has knocked them off their game. Losing regular routines may have felt negative. As people anticipate getting vaccinated, they talk more about which things they miss the most and long to do when things return to “normal.” For another view, I recently read a CBC news article that quoted David Eagleman, a neuroscientist.

Eagleman suggested that, in fact, the pandemic might be good for people’s brains, because the huge lifestyle changes we’ve experienced have forced us off our “path of least resistance.” We’ve been forced to be more flexible and innovate. This can be positive for our brain health. In some cases, forcing our brains to adapt may result in positive growth and changes in our work or home lives.

In a Jewish context though, when we consider our ritual routines, we must balance the comfort of what’s familiar with the opportunity to learn. Questioning and continuing to grow intellectually are valuable, particularly during Passover.

In the talmudic tractate of Pesachim, on page 105a, there’s a discussion about when to say certain blessings such as the Kiddush. Should we interrupt a meal in the middle to do Kiddush? Rav Hamnuna the Elder says, “You don’t need to do this, because Shabbat establishes itself.” In other words, our holidays, like Shabbat or Pesach, will happen whether we are ready or not. We must automatically rise to the obligations associated with them. So, yes, we do a lot of things by rote and habit.

Even so, the next page, Pesachim 106, teaches that there are times where leaders must do things extemporaneously, or work to learn more to figure out what to do. A good leader both continues with the routines and remains able to ask questions, be flexible and learn.

It’s too early for me to conclude whether our freeform research online this year has helped my twins become lifelong learners. (I hope so!) I don’t know if observing animals via live cam will result in a career like field biologist or even a hobby like bird-watching. Whatever they choose, creating a routine-based learning environment that encourages and cultivates questioning, improvisational thinking and flexibility may go a long way towards helping them succeed later on.

It’s true, as Rav Hamnuna the Elder explains, that holidays happen whether or not we’re ready for them. As Rabbi Sari Laufer explains on My Jewish Learning’s explanation of Pesachim 105, “Kiddush doesn’t make Shabbat begin, we make Kiddush because Shabbat has begun.” Yet, once our holidays begin, it’s our obligation to engage with them, to learn and to question.

“Due to the pandemic” is a phrase we’ve heard too often, usually in relation to cancelations or programs offered exclusively online. Perhaps we might add a positive “due to the pandemic” twist. We’re forced to be more flexible thinkers in our ritual routines, too. We can question why we always did them this way. In the end, we might be all the better for that brain jostling and chance for intellectual inquiry.

My family and I wish you a wonderful, thoughtful, questioning Passover, full of joy this year, however different it may be from your usual routines. Chag sameach.

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.

Anti-racism fundraiser

Olga Campbell is raising money for the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre’s anti-racism programming. (photo from Olga Campbell)

Half of all sales during March of Olga Campbell’s multiple-award-winning A Whisper Across Time: My Family’s Story of the Holocaust Told Through Art and Poetry will be donated to the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre’s anti-racism programming, engaging youth and teachers in promoting human rights, social justice and genocide awareness. Campbell’s goal is to raise $5,000. Her objective is to raise “concerns about the fragility of democracy and the rise of white nationalism, racism and antisemitism in the world today.”

In A Whisper Across Time, Campbell – whose mother lost all of her family during the Second World War – writes, “This is the story of one family out of millions of families who went through the Holocaust.”

As quoted in the Jewish Independent when the book was published in 2019, “It is ‘the story of survival and death,’ ‘of how trauma of such magnitude is passed from one generation to another to another….’ It is also an ardent call for readers to remember Rwanda, Rohingya, Bosnia, Syria, Afghanistan, Sudan, Iraq, Cambodia.” Campbell notes in the book that, “by the end of 2016, there were 65.6 million refugees, asylum seekers and internally displaced people in the world.” She pleads, “eighty years ago, the world looked away / we must not look away now.” (Read more at jewishindependent.ca/a-story-told-in-art-and-poetry and jewishindependent.ca/whisper-across-time.)

Campbell will be giving away five signed copies of her book. Everyone who wins or buys a book before the end of March will also receive a signed miniature print – images from the book.

Winners of the book giveaway will be announced on March 21, which is the International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination.

To buy the book ($32), visit olgacampbell.com/new-book-whisper-across-time.

Reform shuls partner

Rabbi Allan Finkel of Temple Shalom in Winnipeg initiated the collaboration. (photo from facebook.com/TheCJN)

Five Reform synagogues in Western Canada have banded together to offer their congregants greater opportunities to share resources, participate in services, celebrate holidays, and connect at cultural and educational events. The congregations participating in the Western Canadian Reform Collaboration include Temple B’nai Tikvah in Calgary, Temple Beth Ora in Edmonton, Kolot Mayim Reform Congregation in Victoria, Temple Sholom in Vancouver and Temple Shalom in Winnipeg.

Rabbi Allan Finkel, spiritual leader of the Winnipeg congregation, initiated the collaboration. “I had come to recognize that, because of COVID-19, we were all starting to develop innovative digital content – educational and cultural programs and events – that we were each delivering within our own congregations and communities,” Finkel said.

The delivery of that digital content, whether for holiday celebrations or for Jewish ritual events such as baby namings and shivas, consistently demonstrated that people thousands of miles apart could sit side by side online and connect in meaningful and spiritual ways.

“For me, the Western Canadian Reform Collaboration was a practical next step – simply, the opportunity for each of us to share our unique liberal Jewish programs and events with fellow congregations and congregants across Western Canada,” he said.

Reform Judaism in Western Canada, as in the rest of the country, remains a relatively small denomination compared to that of the United States. And yet, every one of the synagogues has experienced increased membership interest and engagement in the months since COVID arrived and synagogue life moved from the sanctuary to virtual space.

“Surprisingly, our participation has risen sharply during the pandemic,” said Rabbi Mark Glickman, spiritual leader at Calgary’s Temple B’nai Tikvah. “I think the isolation that people are feeling has made them yearn for connection, which is something the religious community is uniquely positioned to provide.”

Rabbi Lynn Greenhough has found that to be the case among her congregants in Victoria, as well. “We have had more people attend services than ever before,” she said. “Their attendance may be a human hunger for connection with others. Even if all we see is a face and hear one voice at a time, there is connection and continuity.”

photo - Since COVID-19, Kolot Mayim Reform Temple’s Rabbi Lynn Greenhough said, “We have had more people attend services than ever before” — Since COVID-19, Kolot Mayim Reform Temple’s Rabbi Lynn Greenhough said, “We have had more people attend services than ever before.” *(photo from Kolot Mayim)*

That sense of connection and continuity will be enhanced through joint programming with the other Western Reform synagogues. Much of the programming is still being developed, but it already includes a livestreamed, co-sponsored event scheduled for March in celebration of International Women’s Day. The event will be hosted by Finkel and feature Greenhough and Temple Beth Ora’s Rabbi Gila Caine as two of the speakers.

Even after COVID restrictions are lifted entirely and in-person synagogue attendance is allowed to resume, the Western rabbis intend to keep offering virtual programming and to keep working together. The collaboration might have been initiated by the pandemic, Greenhough said, but it is not limited to the pandemic. “In many ways, I think this pandemic has forced us to reassess what works for those of us in organized, institutional religious practice, what are our delivery systems, and how can we make these systems most effective and most inclusive,” she said.

That reassessment is motivating the members of the Reform collaboration to keep redefining what they mean by community, developing a variety of learning and liturgical opportunities, and breaking out beyond the traditional walls of their buildings.

“As for the long term of our Western Canadian Reform Collaboration,” Finkel said, “we see this as a work in progress as we figure out what to share and how, but it has a solid foundation of rabbis finding that we like each other and that we enjoy working with each other. Our championing of this initiative and in developing shared, co-sponsored events won’t stop when COVID-19 ends.”

This article originally was published on facebook.com/TheCJN. For more on Rabbi Lynn Greenhough, see jewishindependent.ca/kolot-mayim-installs-rabbi.

BI hosts Zoom scholar series

On Feb. 16, Congregation Beth Israel welcomed the first of four renowned Jewish scholars in a made-for-Zoom series, The BI Scholars. Canadian-born Dr. Henry Abramson, dean of Touro College in New York and a specialist in Jewish thought and history, kicked off the series with a talk entitled Becoming the People of the Byte: The Internet, Talmud and the Future of the Jewish People.

photo - Dr. Henry Abramson launched The BI Scholars series on Feb. 16 — Dr. Henry Abramson launched The BI Scholars series on Feb. 16. *(photo from Beth Israel)*

His discourse looked at how Jews, over time, and to this day, use and relate to new information technology, and how it changes our modes of learning and disseminating texts. Abramson explained that Jews are generally early adopters of technology, beginning in the second century CE when, under the guidance of Judah Ha-Nasi, we moved from an oral tradition to the documentation of the Mishna in manuscript form, a big change that encountered significant resistance along the way. This was followed by the era of the printing press and, now, digital technology.

These communications technologies allow for significant democratization, and Abramson pointed out the value of the internet in that learning is available to all, whereas “treasured texts were previously not accessible to 50% of the Jewish community – namely, women.”

However, technology also presents dangers in terms of knowing the authenticity and authority of texts. It is our job, said Abramson, “to discover what we can trust and what we can discard.”

One of the female scholars about whom Abramson speaks is Ilana Kurshan, who has completed a remarkable feat of Talmud study – finishing the whole Talmud in seven-and-half years, Daf Yomi, a page a day. Kurshan will speak at the March 9 instalment of the Zoom series about her award-winning memoir If All the Seas Were Ink, which takes readers on a guided tour of the Talmud, while detailing her personal stories of love, loss, marriage and motherhood.

It is, indeed, one of the most unique Talmud commentaries ever written, as she explains: “The memoir is secondary. The way I happened to write this commentary on the Talmud is through my life.”

During her years studying the Talmud, Kurshan, a rabbi’s daughter from Long Island, N.Y., came to discover the terminology to understand her own daily experiences. “Talmud speaks to the human dimension of experience and, in many ways, that does not change,” she said. According to Kurshan, you cannot divorce the human experience from one’s own experience. “Just as the Talmud is a commentary on life, my life became a commentary on Talmud.”

On April 20, Dr. Benjamin Gampel, the Dina and Eli Field Family Chair in Jewish History at the Jewish Theological Seminary, will speak on the topic Riots, Inquisitions and Expulsions, and the Emergence of the Sephardic Diaspora. Gempel is a specialist in medieval and early modern Jewish history.

The series ends with Yuri Vedenyapin from McGill University, whose topic is The Adventures of a Yiddish Teacher. An actor and a singer-songwriter, his areas of academic interest include Yiddish language and culture.

All BI Scholars Zooms start at 7:30 p.m. To register, visit bethisraelvan.ca/happenings/adult-programs/bischolars.

A livelihood, not a hobby

So enthralled am I by the sheer volume and calibre of free online Jewish learning opportunities since the start of the pandemic, that I sometimes forget that the people who do the teaching do it as their livelihood, not as a hobby. Therein lies the problem.

We, the students, the partakers of all manner and sorts of online classes and lectures during COVID, gobble up the learning as though it’s candy, or fine wine. We sit in front of our laptops, tablets and smartphones and act for all the world as though we deserve this high level of education. It should rain down upon us. We’re Jews. We’re the People of the Book. We’re entitled. Teach us!

Make no mistake: we are blessed to be the recipients of this stratospheric level of dedication, and we should not and cannot take it for granted.

But, sometimes, we forget.

We forget that the rabbi or rebbetzin or Jewish scholar or educator who is teaching us needs to feed their family and pay their bills. We forget that we need to support them just like they support us. Too often, we blithely go on learning from week to week, month to month, blissfully ignoring this reality. Yet, we expect a paycheque. Or a pension check, if we’re lucky. Why shouldn’t they?

Zoom classes have become as common as dust since the beginning of the pandemic. Every Jewish religious and/or spiritual organization I can think of is offering Zoom classes weekly, if not daily. They have filled the gaping holes that once were our thriving, healthy, “normal” lives. These same Jewish organizations recognize the desperate need for some kind of normalization, some sort of lifesaver for people to hang onto. In the absence of our daily routines of work, socializing and gathering together as a community, there is little left to celebrate, never mind sustain us. Local synagogues have leaped into the abyss to lift us all up, or those of us who needed lifting, anyway. They have rallied together to create curricula, offer Torah classes, general Jewish study courses, podcasts, livestream videos and so much more. Not only because it’s the source of their livelihood, but because they feel our desperate need, the soul’s yearning for Jewish learning.

There is enormous comfort in seeing others – even if only virtually – and knowing that we are studying Jewish topics together, learning as a community. The overwhelming isolation felt by so many people right now is beyond description. The personal losses, the devastating repercussions from COVID-19 can’t be counted. Our lives have been turned upside down in every way imaginable. And then some. But learning offers hope.

Sure, everyone copes differently with the pandemic, but anybody who says they haven’t been affected by it is just plain lying. Being the adaptable creatures that we are, we take comfort (or relief) where we can find it. For some, it’s food, or alcohol, or Netflix. For others, it’s learning. And, for others still, it must be Jewish learning. Something draws us – something draws me – to our heritage, our history, our Judaism. And, suddenly, we are home.

Myriad times, sitting in front of my computer during or after a Zoom class, usually given by a rabbi, I find myself weeping. Partly as a release from all the stress and anxiety I’m feeling right now; but mostly from a deep sense of gratitude. Gratitude that we, as a community of Jews, haven’t been forgotten. That, amid the detritus of COVID, our faith leaders have intuitively known that we need help, that we can’t do this on our own. So they step up to the plate, full of enthusiasm and inspiration, and they fill us up. Not only do the classes inform us and expand our brains, but they benefit us by keeping us moving forward in a meaningful, purposeful way.

So, why am I writing all this? To remind each and every one of us, myself included, that we should be menschen and pay the favour forward. Pay it, literally, to every rabbi and rebbetzin and Jewish scholar or other educator who shares not only their time, but their wisdom, to help us get through this pandemic in the most meaningful way they know how. Make a donation. Show you care. Make as many donations as you’re able. Big or small, the act is a sign of appreciation. A sign that we value the learning. A sign that we know little, and yearn to know more. A sign that we appreciate their caring, knowing that they will do anything in their power to help. And G-d knows we need it right now. So, whatever we do, we shouldn’t forget to support those who support us.

It would be the century’s grossest understatement to say that I’ve learned a lot during the pandemic. Sure, I’ve learned immeasurable things about human nature and caring and compassion. But I’ve also expanded my Jewish learning a hundred-fold, maybe a thousand-fold. The pandemic has given me the time. But those doing the teaching have given me the inspiration, the foundation, the thirst for more. Instead of being overcome with hopelessness, I’m filled with hope. I see a pattern to life, a way out of this. That is no small thing. We need to pay it forward. Or pay it back. Either one will do.

If there’s a global sense of helplessness pervading much of what we do these days, we can counteract that by not only feeling grateful, but showing it. It could be construed as crass to say that we should pay for our Zoom classes and livestream lectures and podcasts. So be it. Call me crass. It wouldn’t be the first time. Just get out that credit card and do the right thing.

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