Habonim Dror

An evolving experience

Madrichim at Camp Miriam palling around in summer 1990. The author is in front. (photo from Mira Sucharov)

On a little corner of Gabriola Island lies an enclave of old-style Jewish utopianism. Modeled after a kibbutz, campers (chanichim) and counselors (madrichim) talk about heady topics like radical justice, equal worth, unionization, socialism and Labor Zionism.

They learn Hebrew, engage in physical labor and debate topics like whether O Canada adequately addresses the reality of First Nations, the fate of the Palestinians, and how to make a radically inclusive society within Israel. It’s Camp Miriam, part of the network of Habonim-Dror camps across North America. Among the founders of the camp was my grandmother, Marian Margolis, and I spent one memorable summer there as a counselor in 1990.

A lot has changed in Israel – and especially across the kibbutz movement – over the decades. I spoke to the current rosh (director), 22-year-old Leor Laniado, a student at the University of British Columbia majoring in environmental and sustainable geography.

The camp instils in its campers the value of “shivyon erech ha’adam,” a principle that every human being is of equal worth. It’s heady stuff for 10-year-olds who don’t measure themselves in terms of professional status anyway, but the idea is there. Alongside the usual fare of swimming, sports and crafts, campers choose a daily work branch where each task is valued. Fittingly, bathroom-cleaning detail has become one of the most popular options, Laniado tells me.

Campers also have a long tradition of running a kupah (common fund). An initial donation of pocket money is placed into a pot where campers decide how to spend it. Maybe the kids want to pool the funds for a party, maybe a portion will be donated to charity, maybe one camper needs a new toothbrush and applies to the treasurer – who is, of course, a fellow camper.

Rachel Fishman logged eight years as a camper before joining the staff. She values how much she sees Camp Miriam embodying the ideals of youth empowerment. Within limits, she points out, “youth are given space to make their own society.”

Trilby Smith spent 13 summers at Camp Miriam and is currently vice-chair of the camp committee. She sends both her kids to Miriam so “they can develop a sense of community defined by their peers, so that they can be in an environment that is open to questioning and thinking critically about Israel and what it means to be Jewish, and so that they can learn to be leaders.” And, she added, “So that they can have fun!”

Socialism isn’t the only tricky concept permeating the walls of the dining hall. (Yes, campers even do the dishes.) So, too, is Zionism. “I think that Jews in the Diaspora are facing a crisis of how to support Israel. A lot of madrichim struggle with this internally, especially studying in liberal universities,” Laniado said. It’s about “simultaneous love and criticism” at Miriam. “Recognizing that we’ve created a vibrant Israeli society, there’s a lot of work that remains to be done,” she said.

In Israel, Habonim-Dror partners with Hanoar Haoved on projects such as teaching English in Arab high schools. Called the Shared Existence project, it seeks “a joint liberation of both Israelis and Palestinians, striving towards a diverse and vibrant Israeli commonwealth,” in Laniado’s words.

Struggling with Israeli-Palestinian relations and with Zionism is a common refrain these days, but what Camp Miriam – and Habonim in general – manages to do is offer a way for youth to grapple with these issues head-on rather than abdicate altogether. Abdication – or what sociologists have been calling a “distancing” from Israel and Jewish life – is one of the biggest challenges.

These days, the radical secularism that I recall from the summer of 1990 has been replaced by an inching towards Judaism. While they still forego the Hamotzi in favor of a Labor Zionist chant, campers are now more likely to hear about Jewish values, embrace Jewish texts or be treated to a discussion by the rosh on the weekly Torah portion.

While the simple porridge my Baba Marian made for the campers in the 1950s when she was the first “camp mother” has been supplemented by scrambled eggs, fruit salad, yogurt and granola, along with gluten-free and dairy-free options, Zionism is wrestled with rather than taken for granted as a simple solution to the ills of antisemitism, and a commitment to Hebrew is now paired with a desire to “engage with Arabic language and culture.” The big values – leadership, debate, a commitment to Israel, Jewish identity, justice, labor and inclusiveness – remain.

For more information on Camp Miriam, visit campmiriam.org.

Mira Sucharov is an associate professor of political science at Carleton University. She is a columnist for Canadian Jewish News and contributes to Haaretz and the Jewish Daily Forward, among other publications.

Meet at camp, get married?

Dan and Jen Silber met at Camp Moshava. (photo from Silber family via jns.org)

Eighteen-year-old Bernie Kozlovsky spent from sundown to sunrise on a boat with 16-year-old Sonia Rosenbaum in the summer of 1972.

“We talked until dawn,” Kozlovsky recalls about that summer at the Orthodox Jewish NCSY overnight camp in northeastern Maryland. Kozlovsky worked in the camp kitchen. Rosenbaum was a camper. From that summer forward, neither dated another individual. Forty-three years later – including 39 years of marriage, six children and seven grandchildren – Kozlovsky attributes his successful relationship to the spark that formed during his summertime experience.

Not much has changed.

Today, the (camp) fire is still burning at Jewish summer camp. Dating and marriage are byproducts of summers spent banging on the table during Birkat Hamazon (Grace after Meals), engaging in loud and intense games of color war, and celebrating Jewish culture with Hebrew plays and folk-music campfire sing-alongs.

No one is pushed to date at Jewish summer camp, said Lauren Ben-Shoshan, who met her Israeli husband, Alon, as a counselor at URJ (Union for Reform Judaism) Camp Harlam in Kunkletown, Penn., in 2004. The couple now lives in Israel.

“Camp is a positive place for Jewish learning, physical activity and connecting with the outdoors. No one wants campers to feel bad because they didn’t find their spouse when they were 15, 19 or 22. But there is a covert understanding that [marriage is] a nice byproduct of Jewish summer camp, when it happens,” said Ben-Shoshan, who is also a Jewish educator.

It occurs more often than many realize. According to Camp Works, a report released in 2012 by Foundation for Jewish Camp, Jewish adults who attend Jewish overnight camp are on average 10% more likely to marry within the Jewish faith than their peers. The 2000-01 National Jewish Population Study found that number to be higher, with 78% of individuals who attended Jewish summer camp in-married, as opposed to 62% of their non-camper peers.

What’s the secret sauce? Is it that romantic Shabbat at sunset by the lake or in the secluded woods? That’s part of it, but it is more likely a result of the “intensity” of the camp experience, Ben-Shoshan believes.

“The days last forever, but camp feels like it only lasts a minute, so even if camp is only two months, these are two very intense months,” she said. “You see the campers and counselors in stressful situations, how they interact with peers and with the kids, the meals, how they interact with co-workers. It is all these things that happen in life, that could take several months in the ‘real world,’ you see within a week at camp.”

Jewish summer camp focuses heavily on community-building, noted Aaron Bogage, who attended the BBYO International Leadership Training Conference for several summers and now works at the overnight BBYO Chapter LTC. He said there are always “quite a few couples per session,” explaining that these relationships form because everyone is “extremely open” with each other and open to meeting new people. “Everyone is genuinely excited to get to know the rest of the teens.… There is a sense of community that comes from camp,” he said.

One can start to pinpoint new couples, according to Bogage, by looking at who sits where during meals and what campers do during free time. Bogage has not met his significant other through camp, but his good friend met a girl last summer from another state. They are still together despite the physical distance between them.

Jen Silber, executive director of Habonim Dror Camp Moshava in Street, Md., said there is a focus at camp on building healthy peer relationships. “We want [campers] to learn about communication, how to express their needs in relationships, feel confident being themselves and develop trust,” she said.

Silber, who met her own husband as a camper and then staffer at Moshava, argues that friendships and romantic relationships that people form at summer camp tend to be “deeper” and more authentic than those forged at school or in other environments. Campers and counselors feel accepted for who they are, she said.

Habonim Day Camp helps alleviate strike stress

Habonim Dror Camp Miriam madrichim (counselors) partnered with Temple Sholom during the recent teacher’s strike, with the formation of a Habonim Day Camp.

photo - Lior Bar-El — Lior Bar-El *(photo from Lior Bar-El)*

Lior Bar-El, a madrich at Camp Miriam and Habonim Day Camp, and a University of British Columbia student, explained, “We thought it was important to support both the parents and the teachers during the strike by providing affordable child care to whoever needs it.”

Camp Miriam and Habonim Day Camp madricha Carmel Laniado, also a UBC student, explained, “The purpose of Habonim Day Camp is to create a space where children can be supervised and enjoy activities of experiential education [by donation]. We are not replacing teachers or school, but rather offering an alternative while the strike [is on].”

Talking to the JI while the camp was still ongoing, Laniado said that the day camp was open to all children, “regardless of association with Camp Miriam or religious background.”

“At different times of the day, different age groups do sports, music, arts and crafts, and experiential education on a topic of the counselor’s choice,” Bar-El said. “There is also an hour for lunch and half an hour for recess.” He added that the camp was “available to anyone grades K-11” and that more than 30 children had registered.

photo -Carmel Laniado — Carmel Laniado *(photo by Sydney Switzer)*

Yossi Argov, Habonim Dror Camp Miriam shaliach, shared that his “favorite part has been seeing how … so many people mobilized for the mission. The madrichim came with the idea, the camp committee [supported them] and we start[ed the ball rolling], and [we received] more help and support from the Jewish community. Temple Sholom gave us their building every day, while parents sent supplies and items like books and board games with their kids.”

Starting this initiative “was exciting and nerve-racking,” said Bar-El. “I’ve never had as much support in starting a project from so many dedicated people…. There was a lot to do – emails, advertising, lesson plans, registration, schedules – and everyone took on what they could, and made it all happen.”

Habonim Day Camp included the involvement of “a little over 20 counselors that came in at different times of the day,” Bar-El shared. “Everything was structured in hour blocks to allow us to coordinate times” because many of the madrichim “are full-time university students with varying schedules, when one of us [needed] to go to class, someone [would come and take] your place.”

photo - Yossi Argov — Yossi Argov *(photo from Yossi Argov)*

Melody Robens-Paradise, a member of the Camp Miriam personnel committee and mother of four Camp Miriam campers, shared, “I think it is amazing how Temple Sholom offered its space for this idea. What a collaboration. It is a sign of true community, and it is so inspiring to see the mutual support of the parents, the kids, the counselors, the Temple, the youth movement.”

She added that Habonim Day Camp “has been such a relief.” Speaking to the Independent when her kids were still attending the camp, she said, “My kids are safe and happy, engaged, and the level of stress caused by the strike is greatly reduced. My colleagues who have school-aged children were completely blown away by the innovation and generosity and [support] of the Habonim Dror counselors. They kept asking me, ‘What camp is that?’ No one could believe that Grade 12 and university-age counselors would volunteer their time to support their community in that way. It is so admirable.”

The students responsible for starting this initiative are all members of Habonim Dror, which, Bar-El explained, is “a worldwide Jewish socialist labor Zionist youth movement whose main focus is youth empowerment and collective responsibility and decision-making…. We believe that equality and social justice are intrinsic values of Judaism, and we strive to do tikkun olam (repairing the world) wherever we see a need.”

During the year, Habonim Dror and Camp Miriam are involved in both the local Jewish and social justice communities. Bar-El elaborated, “We run something called the Ken (‘nest’ in Hebrew), where we run activities twice a month for different age groups throughout the year. It’s a great opportunity for kids who are nervous about jumping straight into a three-week session in the summer to try out Camp Miriam, and to make friends with other kids who will also be there.

“We also run free tutoring at the JCC [Waldman Library] on Tuesdays and Wednesdays from 4:30-6 p.m., and three weekend-long seminars during the school year, and we are members of the Metro Vancouver Alliance (MVA). If you want your child to get involved in Camp Miriam and the Vancouver Ken, please contact Yossi Argov at [email protected].”

Zach Sagorin is a Vancouver freelance writer. He is involved with Habonim Dror in various capacities.