identity

Several shows to watch at Fringe Fest

Ariel Martz-Oberlander wrote and co-stars in on behalf. (photo from Julia Lank)

In the Aug. 20 issue of the Jewish Independent, there was a short article on the Vancouver Fringe Festival show A Coveted Wife of East Van, which “tells the story of Samantha Cohen as she navigates friendship, men and dating apps while making some very bad decisions along the way.” Playing at the Picnic Pavilion venue on Granville Island, the creative team includes Jewish community members Marn Norwich (poet), Ariel Martz-Oberlander (director), Itamar Erez (musician) and Hayley Sullivan (actor). Martz-Oberlander is also involved in the show on behalf, with fellow Jewish community members Tamar Tabori and Julia Lank (co-stage manager). And there are other Jewish community members to watch in this year’s festival, as well. Here are the broad strokes of the productions that were in touch with the JI.

on behalf

Martz-Oberlander’s on behalf is a conversational, humorous and lyric conversation between a young woman (Martz-Oberlander) and an ancient goddess (Tabori).

“on behalf challenges assumptions about what it means to survive and to be a survivor,” said Martz-Oberlander. “Rather than framing ‘healing’ as an individual, linear journey, the show frames it as a collective political and cultural act – messy, strange, circular, ancestral, shattering, transformative and ongoing. Our identities affect our visions of justice, and diaspora shapes our ability to find belonging on stolen land and within a system that views justice only as punishment.”

The inspiration behind on behalf came out of Martz-Oberlander’s own healing journey, and lack of a road map. She began looking back into her own cultural inheritance and to mine the stories of women who have survived dispossession and sexual assault across time and space, with bravery, creativity and the strength of rituals.

After three years in development, on behalf has shifted in focus and form many times. Now in a filmic state at the Fringe, it moves again. Shot in a single take with a shifting camera, the show runs less than 20 minutes. The film format invites audiences to engage with the tactile and sensory experiences linked to traditional ritual work – like handwashing and bread baking – to highlight how healing extends beyond the individual, because our wounds too extend beyond the individual experience.

on behalf is a digital presentation and can be watched anytime during the Fringe.

Everybody Knows

In this semi-autobiographical, one-woman musical, set to nine Leonard Cohen cover songs, Rita Sheena creates a spiraling narrative using contemporary dance, post-modern quirk and the haunting melodies of First Aid Kit’s Who By Fire album, which was released earlier this year.

Everybody Knows is the latest work from Sheena’s Come Emote With Me theatre series. It opens in a bright, primary-coloured hotel room. When we meet the smug captain, we are reminded that “everybody knows the dice are loaded, everybody rolls with their fingers crossed, and everybody knows the war is over, everybody knows the good guys lost….” Next, we meet a woman in a 1960s-style secretary dress who answers every telephone call ringing for death with “… and who shall I say is calling?”

Cohen enthusiasts will appreciate the esoteric nuances that Sheena emotes. Folks who love dance and movement artistry will enjoy the unique style of storytelling.

Everybody Knows is at the Revue Stage on Granville Island Sept. 11-18.

A Toast to Prohibition

International performer Melanie Gall comes to the Vancouver Fringe with her new historic musical, A Toast to Prohibition. Her previous shows include Piaf and Brel and off-Broadway’s Ingénue.

Celebrate the 101st anniversary of Prohibition with flappers, gin fizz and a speakeasy cabaret. Join Gladys in her secret gin joint, the Tipsy Sparrow, as she tells the story of when intoxicating liquor was forbidden and lawlessness ruled the day. From secret cellars and doctor-prescribed alcohol to a teetotaller attacking saloons with a hatchet, there’s a song about it! This show features, among other songs, forgotten 1920s hits “Lips That Touch Liquor Shall Never Touch Mine” and “Everybody Wants a Key to My Cellar.”

Performances of A Toast to Prohibition take place at Performance Works Sept. 10-19.

The Fringe Festival runs until Sept. 19. For tickets and the full schedule, visit vancouverfringe.com.

Tackling the hatred head on

When white supremacists converged on Charlottesville, Va., four years ago chanting “Jews will not replace us,” it was the first encounter most of us had had with the conspiracy theory known as “the Great Replacement.”

In the pretzel logic of racists, immigration and multiculturalism are products of the Jewish imagination, with Jews perpetrating, through behind-the-curtains jiggery-pokery, what the tiny number of actual Jews in the world cannot do demographically: replace Aryan culture with alien races and cultures. The absurdity of the “theory” makes a lot more sense as one delves deeper into the trends and characteristics of antisemitism. Three wildly different but related books show that the projection of all that is wrong in society onto an empty vessel that happens to be Jewish recurs repeatedly. As ludicrous as the Great Replacement is, it dovetails magnificently with thousands of years of anti-Jewish prejudice and propaganda.

In Jews Don’t Count: How Identity Politics Failed One Particular Identity (TLS Books, 2021), author David Baddiel explores how the treatment of Jews is the exception to effectively everything today’s progressives espouse.

“It is a progressive article of faith – much heightened during the Black Lives Matter protests following the murder of George Floyd in 2020 – that those who do not experience racism need to listen, to learn, to accept and not challenge when others speak about their experiences,” he writes. “Except, it seems, when Jews do. Non-Jews, including progressive non-Jews, are still very happy to tell Jews whether or not the utterance about them was in fact racist.”

Baddiel discusses how racism and antisemitism are disentwined to disadvantage Jews, placing antisemitism lower on a “hierarchy of racisms” than other forms.

“Jews are stereotyped, by the racists, in all the same ways as the other minorities are – as lying, thieving, dirty, vile, stinking – but also as moneyed, privileged, powerful and secretly in control of the world,” he says. “And, if you believe, even a little bit, that Jews are moneyed, privileged, powerful and secretly in control of the world … well, you can’t put them into the sacred circle of the oppressed. Some might even say they belong in the damned circle of the oppressors.”

Baddiel confronts the canard that Jews can’t be victims of racism because they represent a religion, not a race – an audacious defining of an entire people by others who do not belong to the group, itself an example of something progressives would deign to do with no group other than Jews. By pushing antisemitism down the victimization scale, perpetrators can then accuse people who call out antisemitism as diminishing the experiences of minorities with legitimate claims to oppression.

When Baddiel called out one prominent antisemite, saying he had rarely heard so blatant a statement from someone with so large an audience, the perpetrator replied: “’Cos everyone was scared, that’s why.”

By alleging that a cabal of powerful Jews is policing the language of critics, the perpetrator, Baddiel writes, “isn’t a racist, he’s a hero, finally standing up and saying the things that need to be said even though it will bring down the wrath of this all-powerful Jewstablishment on his head.”

Similarly, when an article in the New York Times seemed like an attempt to rehabilitate the notorious antisemite Louis Farrakhan, the author replied to a critic who mooted the negative impact this could have on Jews: “Somehow, among the million concerns, you believe that yours are supposed to rise to the top.… That is called privilege.”

A recurring theme is that, unlike other minorities, Jews are not “innocent victims.” Baddiel (and the other authors mentioned here) do not explicitly say it, but it is understood that, for antisemites, Jews are not victims because, whatever the calamity, they bring it on themselves.

Another recent book, Israel: A Simple Guide to the Most Misunderstood Country on Earth by Noa Tishby (Free Press, 2021), picks up on some of Baddiel’s themes.

Tishby is an Israeli-American actor with a strong Zionist lineage. Her grandmother was a founder of the first kibbutz in Israel. Her grandfather was Israel’s first ambassador to West African countries and served on the Israeli delegation to the United Nations. Her great-grandfather was the founder of Israel’s ministry of industry and trade. Tishby served in the Israel Defence Forces entertainment troops, which she describes as, basically, “a nightly USO [United Service Organizations] tour.” She starred in an Israeli prime time soap opera – Ramat Aviv Gimmel, a sort of Israeli Melrose Place – then made the move to Hollywood.

Her book is aimed at people of her demographic – young, hip, leftist (though presumably non-Jewish) readers – and she presents, through biography and history, a tidy Zionist narrative that hits the bases. She does what pro-Israel writers rarely do: she uses emotion and personal stories, rather than dogged reliance on facts, chronology and empiricism. This is not to diminish the fact-based foundation of the book, but her first-person narrative connects the reader to the land and people of Israel in a way that cold facts do not.

Tishby provides a simple but thorough overview of regional history and the development of Israel, as well as the parallel history of the Palestinian and Arab peoples in the area. She dissects the claims of the BDS movement one by one, debunking the prevailing leftist narrative in the West. She pillories the obsession of the United Nations with anything Israeli and rebuts allegations of colonialism, apartheid, ethnic cleansing, unequal warfare and occupation quite effectively.

She recounts how, in the years after the Second World War, there were roughly 11 million refugees worldwide, 700,000 of whom were Palestinian.

“The 10,300,000 non-Palestinian refugees were funneled into UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for refugees, created in 1951), the UN agency dedicated to resettling and integrating refugees and/or stateless peoples,” she writes. The Palestinians got their own unique refugee agency: the UN Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA).

“While UNHCR is constantly working on getting the global number of refugees down, with UNRWA the numbers go up, up, up,” Tishby writes. “After the 1948 war, there were approximately 700,000 displaced people. Now UNRWA has 5.6 million ‘refugees’ registered in their books. How is that possible?”

Even Palestinians living in Gaza and the West Bank are counted as refugees by UNRWA, she notes, asking: “Can you be a refugee from Palestine when you currently live in … Palestine?”

Near the end of the book, Tishby throws some questions at the reader: “How would you handle a wannabe Sharia state 30 miles from your house? How should Israel retaliate when Hamas fires thousands of rockets into southern Israeli towns? Why haven’t the Palestinians agreed to make a final peace deal? Will the PA unite with Hamas and, if so, will Hamas denounce violence, like, ever? Why is Israel singled out? What about other countries that actually do systematically abuse human rights? Why aren’t activists focused on their freedoms of religion, speech, and assembly, which Israel grants all her citizens? Where are the boycott movements of neighbouring countries that literally kill people for their beliefs, desire for freedoms and democracy, or sexual orientation?”

Tishby’s Israel is an engaging, entertaining read and an ideal primer for newbies to the subject. For those more immersed academically or through lived experience with this topic, there is little new information, but it is largely an enjoyable read although, in an effort to be hip and approachable, she routinely employs gratuitous profanities, which might grate on some readers.

Far from these two volumes on the scale of page-turning readability is the monumental tome Anti-Judaism: The Western Tradition by David Nirenberg (W.W. Norton & Co., 2013). Published eight years ago, it had somehow escaped my eye and, when I did get my hands on it, it sat for some time on my pile. Cracking the spine was daunting because the thesis is dark and unnerving.

Nirenberg undermines the received wisdom that antisemitism is characteristic of ideological extremes in Western civilization. Instead, he depicts “anti-Judaism” as absolutely central and foundational to the very identity of Western civilization. (He differentiates “antisemitism,” which is discrimination against Jews, and “anti-Judaism,” which is perhaps a more pernicious, guileful thing, attributing “Judaism” and “Jewishness” to anything undesirable, whether the object is Jewish or not.) Applying Nirenberg’s thesis to Charlottesville is a simple way of understanding it. In the eye of the racists, immigration and multiculturalism are bad, ergo, by definition, they are “Jewish,” whether actual Jews have any hand in them or not.

Nirenberg provides a sadly compendious recital of civilizations for whom “Jews,” “Jewishness” and “Judaism” were used as a prism through (and against) which non-Jews defined their own identities.

“Why did so many diverse cultures – even many cultures with no Jews living among them – think so much about Judaism? What work did thinking about Judaism do for them in their efforts to make sense of their world?” he asks.

In Christianity, Jews are viewed as “materialist” and earthly, which is juxtaposed with Christians’ self-image as being concerned with the spiritual and the divine. In a theology where things terrestrial are equated with all things evil, the corollary is predictable.

Nirenberg quotes Jean-Paul Sartre, who said: “if the Jew did not exist, the antisemite would invent him.” The subtext of Nirenberg’s book, one could say, is that both things are true: the Jew does exist and the antisemite invented him. There are, in effect, two different “Jews”: real Jews and the image antisemites have created and refined for millennia.

It is this latter imaginary “Jew” that has been used not only to torment generations of actual Jews, but also to contrive the self-identities of civilizations. Nirenberg includes both Christianity and Islam under the rubric of Western civilization when he writes: “anti-Judaism should not be understood as some archaic or irrational closet in the vast edifices of Western thought. It was rather one of the basic tools with which that edifice was constructed.”

Since Christianity and Islam were both founded as supercessionary religions to Judaism, juxtaposing that theological parentage with an antipathy to the descendants of the parent religion creates a cognitive dissonance that Nirenberg describes as the “truth of Jewish scripture and the falsity of the Jews.”

Somehow, adherents of both religions have intrepidly managed to accommodate the dissonance.

“The simultaneous inclusion and exclusion of Judaism became for Islam – as it had been for Christianity – a structuring principle of the world, one through which Islamic truth was explored, discovered and articulated,” he writes. Jews were “both necessary and noxious, prophetic and pernicious.”

The religious bigotry permeates Western civilization, not just its religion, he argues. Nirenberg discusses how Marx employed typical Christian perceptions of Jews as materialistic to fit his atheistic ideology. He also analyzes how it influenced the Enlightenment and the French Revolution. For example, while the Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen, the great document of the French Revolution, does not mention Jews or Judaism, “it was famously presented and represented to the people – in a painting and in print – as two new tablets of law, replacing those handed Moses on Mount Sinai.” Never mind Christianity and Islam, when it came time for what was probably the most progressive, liberal society yet in modern history to define itself, the revolutionaries took Jewish imagery and firmly demarcated themselves as “not that.”

What is striking when immersing oneself in volumes about antisemitism is the stark certainty of today’s “critics of Israel” that they are untainted with antisemitic bias. They apparently have given little, if any, thought or effort to learn the history of antisemitism and its myriad permutations.

While Nirenberg speaks very little about Israel, he packs a powerful punch when, after hundreds of dense pages excruciatingly dissecting how civilizations for thousands of years have understood their identities and their most significant beliefs in direct opposition to Judaism, he declares: “We live in an age in which millions of people are exposed daily to some variant of the argument that the challenges of the world they live in are best explained in terms of ‘Israel.’”

Coincidence? It doesn’t seem so to those have studied the history and malleability of anti-Jewish ideas.

Being a Jewish woman

The Daughters of Zelophehad by artist Frederick Richard Pickersgill, engraver Dalziel Brothers, 1865-1881. (photo from metmuseum.org)

“A cobbler passed by the window of Rabbi Levi Yitzhak, calling out: “Have you nothing to mend?!” The rabbi began to cry: “Woe is me! Rosh Hashanah is almost here and I have not yet mended myself!” (Zichron Ha Rishonim)

According to Rabbi Kruspedai, in the name of Rabbi Yohanan, three books are opened on Rosh Hashanah: one for the wholly righteous, one for the wholly wicked and one for most of us, those in between. The wholly righteous are inscribed and sealed in the Book of Life; the wicked in the Book of Death; and the rest of us are held suspended until Yom Kippur, when we are judged worthy or unworthy. The zodiacal symbol for the Hebrew month of Tishri is, fittingly, a balance – the scales of justice.

When Creation was established, but still incomplete, humans had an important role – to fill the earth with life and to sustain life at the highest level (Genesis 1:28). We became a partner with the Creator in tikkun olam, perfecting the world.

Women are not relegated to a minor position in this task. As Rosh Hashanah approaches, Jewish women reflect on their role, knowing that they have more to do than merely bake honey cakes, send out Shana Tova cards and light candles.

Since coming to live in Israel five decades ago, I have felt the need for a deeper, more spiritual aspect. Every type of Jewish woman is represented in Jerusalem, from the ultra-Orthodox matron to the professional modern religious woman; from the Reform woman rabbi to the completely secular woman who sees any kind of ritual as nonsense. Each has her convictions and will act on them accordingly.

Having begun my life as a fairly assimilated Jewess, I fall somewhere in the middle. I consider myself a modern, observant woman, although I fall short of my daughters, who cover their hair and have studied Talmud, Mishnah and Jewish philosophy at a level of commitment to Judaism I probably will never attain. Yet, I am not totally ignorant, nor have I been left entirely unaffected by the feminist movement. I do believe that the Torah was given by G-d at Mount Sinai and one may not change it even one iota. But neither am I satisfied to fulfil the prayer of the pious father at his daughter’s birth in the Middle Ages: “May she sew, spin, weave and be brought up to a life of good deeds” – especially as the first three skills are completely beyond me!

I want to find a comfortable spiritual niche for myself within the framework of halachah (Jewish law). I have no desire to don tallit or tefillin to make a feminist statement, yet I know there are possibilities that exist for the Jewish woman that give her a place beyond catering to the family’s gastronomic needs when the Days of Awe come round. Many opponents of orthodoxy contend that women are not honoured in Judaism, despite the deep reverence for Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah. My namesake, Dvora, the judge and prophetess, is also greatly honoured for her political, moral and religious leadership.

There are contemporary Orthodox women who have widened the halachic barriers by challenging practices of separate synagogue seating, and questioning the right of women to be called to the Torah and to be counted in the minyan (traditionally, the minimum 10 men required for communal worship). These privileges do not unduly attract me – if they did, I would attend a Conservative or Reform synagogue. I am not even tempted to join a halachically permitted women’s “minyan” – I rather enjoy my silent communion with G-d and don’t feel it necessary to see everything that is going on. G-d hears Jewish women’s pleas, as He did in the case of the childless Sarah, Rachel and Hannah and the landless daughters of Zelophehad.

I don’t yearn for religious parity with men. Not everything in life can be equal or fulfilled at every given moment. Demands for personal gratification and unreal expectations can destroy relationships in the secular sphere also. Blu Greenberg, a pioneering Orthodox feminist and writer, has defined “time, energy, a measure of sacrifice and generosity of spirit” as the enemies of instant gratification and believes that one is only free within an ethical and moral structure.

With the approach of the High Holy Days, there are women who are searching for a role that will be neither insignificant nor undervalued. We are sifting through the perspectives of Jewish values, what we can welcome and what we can reject.

We will attend synagogue and listen to the shofar as men and women are obligated to do, and try to observe the period of penitence that ends with Yom Kippur. There are also tehinnot (petitional prayers; in Yiddish, tkhines) for women, written in Yiddish in Bohemia and published in Germany, Russia and Poland in the 18th century, which I would like to find and have translated. They emphasize G-d as a loving father rather than as a stern judge; the merit of the matriarchs; and define rewards in terms of pious and virtuous children. They represent a kind of folk literature, mirroring the daily life and concerns at that time in the ghetto. As it is known that many of the tehinnot were composed by women – a rare phenomenon – I think they are appropriate prayers to be added by women to the traditional ones at this time.

Mainly, I think, we should sustain our belief that women, as well as men, are made in G-d’s image. For me, being a Jewish woman largely defines who I am and what I am called to do. Our sages tell a story that, when the Torah was first given, G-d told Moses to teach it first to the women. I believe the reason – that is still valid today – was that women were the architects of the next generation, and their acceptance of it would determine whether or not future generations would continue the covenant. Surely, there is no more significant role as we approach the New Year and the Day of Judgment. May we all be inscribed for a good year.

Dvora Waysman, originally from Melbourne, Australia, has lived in Jerusalem for 50 years. She has written 14 books, and the film The Golden Pomegranate was based on her novel The Pomegranate Pendant. She can be contacted at [email protected].

Hate not acceptable at SFU

“Antisemitism is hate, and it is not acceptable at SFU,” said Simon Fraser University president and vice-chancellor Joy Johnson. (photo by Jeff Hitchcock / flickr)

The president of Simon Fraser University met with Jewish students recently and issued a statement condemning antisemitism on campus and directing those who experience anti-Jewish racism to appropriate resources.

After meeting with Jewish students, Joy Johnson, Simon Fraser’s president and vice-chancellor, tweeted on July 12: “Their experiences were deeply upsetting.”

“Antisemitism is hate, and it is not acceptable at SFU,” she added. “If you are experiencing discrimination or hate, help is available. Please reach out.”

The university, in consultation with the SFU Multifaith Centre and Hillel BC, created a resource for those who have experienced antisemitism. This includes links to campus chaplains, confidential counseling and critical incident support for significant events.

Like many university campuses, SFU has a history of anti-Israel activism that can often veer into antisemitic imagery and tropes. The latest eruption occurred at the first council meeting of a newly elected Simon Fraser Students Society. Occurring around the time of the most recent conflict between Hamas and Israel, the council meeting passed a resolution endorsing the boycott, divestment and sanction movement against Israel (BDS) in what Jewish students view as a biased and unfair meeting.

The student society’s resolution – titled “SFSS Response to the Israeli Colonization of Palestine” – accused Israel of “disproportionate violence,” claiming “worshippers at the Al-Aqsa Mosque were indiscriminately targeted by Israeli police forces” and condemning “the ongoing persecution of the Palestinian people by the government of Israel.” The resolution endorsed the BDS movement and expressed no parallel concerns about Palestinian terrorism, violence, incitement or human rights abuses. It also accused the United States and Canada of complicity in perceived Israeli misdeeds. The resolution passed unanimously.

The student society brought in Dalya Masri, a Palestinian activist, to provide “expert” testimony before the vote, said Katia Fermon, outreach coordinator for Hillel BC, the Jewish student organization.

“She gave a presentation, which was beyond hurtful for Jewish students,” said Fermon. Masri, she said, compared the First Intifada to the sort of peaceful rallies that happen on the streets of Vancouver.

“My students have family that died in the First and the Second Intifada,” Fermon said. “This is not a strange thing for us, and she just mentioned it like it was a rally.”

The presenter accused Israel of taking over territory in 1967, while eliding the larger facts around the Six Day War and other realities, she said.

Fermon said that, in preparation for the vote, the SFSS consulted with Independent Jewish Voices, but did not consult with Hillel.

“That fact is very hurtful,” she said. “Independent Jewish Voices is not a club on campus, however Hillel Jewish Students Association is. They pay their dues.… We are a part of that union. Those voices were not asked for or heard.”

Hillel BC issued a statement condemning the student society’s approach.

“Instead of supporting an open and extensive dialogue amongst students, the SFSS has chosen to perpetuate the agenda of a movement whose use of harmful terminology fails to address the root causes of the conflict, ignoring centuries of complex history in which power dynamics constantly shifted,” it reads. “This rhetoric further sows hate and division instead of helping work towards a peaceful two-state solution. The SFSS has decided to single out the state of Israel instead of opening a space for adequate dialogue between Jewish, Israeli and Palestinian students on campus wherein we may critique the policies of the state while being mindful of the hate that may result in endorsing certain statements, activists or movements.”

It added that BDS “openly traffics in antisemitic conspiracies and dog whistles” and noted that nearly two decades of BDS activism has not “freed Palestine from violence or oppression. Instead, it has been to stoke aggression and polarization online, in the streets and on campuses.”

In a statement to the Independent, Nico Slobinsky, director of the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs, Pacific region, said: “The statement by SFU’s president is an important step in denouncing the rising tide of anti-Jewish hate on campus. CIJA thanks president Dr. Joy Johnson for recognizing that SFU is not immune from antisemitism. Combating anti-Jewish hatred is not only about protecting Jews but also about protecting the very fabric of our society, on and off campus.

“CIJA appreciates the strong friendship and commitment shown by Dr. Johnson to creating a campus that is inclusive, diverse, safe and open to all students,” Slobinsky added. “CIJA looks forward to working with SFU alongside our campus partner, Hillel BC, towards ensuring a healthy campus environment.”

Students have been studying remotely for more than a year and so most of the discussion, which has included a litany of offensive comments, has taken place on official and unofficial online platforms, including the primary undergraduate forum.

One Israeli student, who asked to remain anonymous, said she was one of a few who spoke up in opposition to the prevailing bias in the dialogue.

“I didn’t expect it to go smoothly,” she said. “There was a lot of backlash in the moment and it is still going on.… A lot of comments are being deleted and monitored but there are a lot of hateful comments.”

The statements frequently included slogans such as “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free” and other comments promising the annihilation of Israel. Israel was compared with Nazi Germany, Rhodesia, apartheid-era South Africa and plantation-owning slaveholders. Concerns about the safety of Jewish people were dismissed as efforts to “stifle” legitimate criticism of Israel.

“As an Israeli, I don’t want to believe they said them personally to me,” the student said. “I try my best not to take all those comments personally, but sometimes it gets there.”

As she and other students prepare to return to campus this fall for the first time in more than a year, she said she is not concerned for her personal safety, but she is worried about some of her friends.

“I was born in Israel and I have a little bit of Israeli inside of me so, for myself, I’m not that worried,” she said. “Obviously, it’s not a nice experience.” Whether the online threats and vitriol turn into real-time incidents remains to be seen, she said, but some of her Jewish friends are already taking cover.

“They are not wearing their Star of David,” she said. “They never say out publicly that they are Jewish: to not get into a conflict, to avoid any debate on the matter, they just decided not to. I think it’s a shame…. It is a shame that we live in Canada in the 21st century and people are choosing to hide part of their identity. For myself, it’s a big chunk of my identity, so I’m not going to hide it, but I can’t blame people who choose to. I empathize with them.”

Listening and learning

Juneteenth webinar panelists (clockwise from top left) Heather Miller, Dr. Tameika Minor, Rafi Forbush and Kendell Pinkney. (photos from internet)

The United Synagogues of Conservative Judaism (USCJ) held a webinar entitled Juneteenth Through the Eyes of Jews of Colour: Sharing Stories and Perspectives on June 17, the same day the United States declared Juneteenth (June 19) a federal holiday. Slaves were freed from Texas, the last Confederate state with institutionalized slavery, on June 19, 1865.

The objectives of the evening were to establish better dialogue, to create a space to honour the Jewish and Black communities, to learn about the challenges people of colour have in the Jewish community, and to find the means by which people of colour can feel welcome in the Jewish community. Marques Hollie, a theatre artist, storyteller and musician, led the evening with a rendition of the post-Civil War song “Oh Freedom.”

“Our people crossed the Red Sea. People of colour are still in Egypt. For Black people, freedom has not come fast enough and not in a straight line,” said Ruth Messinger, a former politician and head of the American Jewish World Service, in opening remarks that preceded the introduction of the panel discussion.

The four panelists were Heather Miller, Dr. Tameika Minor, Kendell Pinkney and Rafi Forbush. Rabbi Ari Lucas of Congregation Agudath Israel in Caldwell, N.J., moderated the event. Lucas encouraged the audience to listen before asking questions.

“In a lot of ways, I feel like I came out as a Black person last year,” said Miller, president of the Jewish Centre in Brooklyn and a future rabbi. “In the Jewish spaces I have been in, people have tried not to see my colour. The stakes are different for us than the majority of people in this Zoom room. I was afraid this would just be a moment for everyone else and that the world would go back to not seeing this stuff again after the pandemic. I was afraid of being left exposed without a community.”

Minor, a professor in clinical mental health counseling and rehabilitation counseling at Rutgers University, said she would like to see Juneteenth become a day of reflection and not just celebration. “Reflection of where we have come from and how far we have to go,” she said. “It’s not a day we should sit back and not look at the wealth gap, mass incarceration and police brutality. Now it is a federal holiday, and yet so many states are banning critical race theory in schools.”

“For me, the question isn’t what does Juneteenth mean to me now but what might it mean to us moving forward,” said Pinkney, a Brooklyn-based theatre writer, Jewish-life consultant and rabbinical student at the Jewish Theological Seminary. “The Jewish people are so, so good at crafting stories, creating rituals. What rituals might be created 20 years from now around Juneteenth? Which stories and voices will we finally open our ears to?”

He added, “I like to think of it more as a promise of what might be and what we might become as a Jewish community.”

Rounding out the panel was Forbush, youth director at Beth Jacob Congregation in Mendota Heights (St. Paul) and founder of the Multiracial Jewish Association of Minnesota, which focuses on creating space for Jews of colour to connect to one another, through the community, education and advocacy.

“If you had told me that our community would be having this conversation at the beginning of the pandemic, I would have laughed at you,” said Forbush. “There is a bright light in our community starting to see outside of ourselves. If we are a people and not a race, then we owe it to each other to get to know who we are. The idea here is, extend the tent and not move it to exclude somebody else.”

Like Pinkney, Forbush spoke of the potential the holiday holds for the future and the sense of inclusion it can bring to the entire community. He pointed out that young Jews of colour often feel excluded.

Throughout the webinar, the panelists touched on various points of exclusion they feel as part of a community – of not believing they are entirely heard and of the microaggressions that occur in Jewish spaces, such as being quizzed on aspects of Jewish life or being viewed as staff and not a member of the community. Understandably, these are the sorts of issues that drive Jews of colour away from synagogues and other Jewish institutions.

The hope was expressed that Jews of colour could achieve more positions of leadership within Jewish organizations. There was also a sense that the community as a whole is not achieving its full potential without engaging more actively and openly with Jews of colour.

“This year, as we expand upon the understandings of diversity and inclusion, we have, despite COVID, actively widened the doors to our tent so to speak,” said Rabbi Susan Tendler of Richmond’s Congregation Beth Tikvah, which has been promoting the recent USCJ webinars on reaching out to interracial families and building a larger sense of inclusion for all Jews.

“We have actively listened and considered with compassion the feelings of people who may want to enter and yet find barriers to feeling authentically accepted within the larger Jewish community,” she told theIndependent. “United Synagogue’s program on Juneteenth is one example of many in which we have taken the opportunity to listen and learn.”

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

To be heroes in our eyes

William Shakespeare designated a minor character in his play Hamlet to express and offer to us profound advice, something that is really an observation about the nature of the human animal. It rattles around in our minds, and probably has since time immemorial.

In Act 1, Scene 3, Polonius’s advice to his son, Laertes, is “This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.”

It may be that many people do not think about it, but some of us – those with aspirations regarding the roles they hope to play in the lives they will lead – have this buzzing around in their conscious and subconscious minds. And it begs the question, who and what is that self?

Some of us, and certainly it was true in my case, concocted, in the days of our youth, fanciful tales of the derring-do we would accomplish in our lives. Aided and abetted by library readings that detailed the accomplishments of heroes in past times, I painted myself into the foreground of these scenarios. Along with this, necessarily, went standards of behaviour that demanded selflessness and virtue. I not only had to be brave and courageous, but I had to be honourable and generous. A hero could not be otherwise.

So, to be true to myself, there were rigid standards of behaviour to which I imagined I should live up. I am sure many of us have been subjected to entreaties from parents, other adults and teachers, as to standards of behaviours that were to be expected of us, and some of these were incorporated into what we wanted from ourselves.

No standards are applied as rigidly or as harshly as the ones we inflict on ourselves. Taking them into account in our private moments, we are aware of every one of our transgressions. Totting up the score, we make judgments all the time as to whether we are worthy of the self-respect we would like to possess. We dearly want to like ourselves if we can. We wrestle with our failings and remember most of them.

And we judge our accomplishments, too, of course. How close did we come to achieving those deeds of derring-do, however we define them, that we promised ourselves we would undertake? Are we on the way to being heroes in our own eyes? Or, at least, can we enjoy a satisfaction for our accomplishments, including meeting our standards of behaviour towards others? If we didn’t make it all the way, did we fight the good fight sufficiently to make us worthy of self-respect? After all, it is ourselves with whom we cannot escape living. How much self-destructive behaviour can be traced to remorse in this arena?

Where have you been in life, you dashing daredevils? What mountains did you climb? What goals did you set for yourself, to reach or exceed? Were they modest and did you achieve them to your satisfaction? Were they vainglorious and did you feel the bitterness of defeat? Was public attention your goal, for good or ill, or did you not need acclaim? Did you find satisfaction in the effort itself? Did you have to be satisfied with only partial accomplishments? Were you like me, who blundered around until the moment caught me, rather than seizing these moments?

If you are just starting out, you have all this to look forward to. Go forth, you heroes and heroines of endeavour!

Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.

Form forces Jews to be white

A friend of mine was recently angry and anxious about a university human resources form. The form reflected how people self-identified. In other words, how diverse was this Canadian university’s workforce?

The form’s questions asked about race. On that form, it said that Jewish people should mark on their forms “white.”

The person who told me about this wrote on the form that this was racist and wrong. In fact, Jews come in every single colour and are from all over the world. Jews aren’t defined by only the (Ashkenazim) European “white” category. If we’re identified as an ethnicity, that doesn’t define our race.

Also, Judaism isn’t solely a religion. We’re still considered Jewish even if one converts to another religion, or isn’t practising or is a descendant of a Jewish person. In Canada, First Nations, Inuit and Métis are Indigenous. Historically, Jews are also considered indigenous – to Israel.

Non-Jews have racialized us as “other” for thousands of years. This othering isn’t a new thing. It’s a core component of antisemitism. In Hitler’s Germany, categorizing Jews as a different race and subhuman made it easier for genocide to take place.

This historic narrative around antisemitism parallels that of many other oppressed people. Yet, the antisemitic misinformation campaign is powerful. Even though there are only about 14 million Jews in the world, antisemites consider us to have an outsized influence and power that somehow overpowers and dominates others. As an example: even as hate crimes against Jews have increased, they are poorly covered by mainstream news. Yet, we are also allegedly controlling the media at the same time. Huh?

These tropes aren’t logical or rational. Prejudice, discrimination and hate are often fueled by emotion. Leaders then use these strong feelings to gain power, control and wealth and to scapegoat minorities like Jews.

What are ways to counter this in a 21st-century context? There are social media activists who speak out daily, raising awareness and fighting against this misinformation. Many Jewish families open their home and Shabbat tables up to enable non-Jews, one at a time, to learn about who we are. Others write books and conduct interviews on radio and TV. Yet not all of us are public figures, or want to be.

Even as “regular” people, we can be proud owners of our Jewish identities. We can continue to learn, think and reflect on who we are, what we believe and our place in the world. We can stand together, recognizing that, as Jews, we are all responsible for one another – kol Yisrael arevim zeh le zeh. We can attempt, through pride and knowledge, to control our own narrative.

I, too, was frustrated by that human resources form. Now, I’m puzzled whenever I see a form that asks me what my identity is. Since a bit after the Second World War, light-skinned Jews in North America have been encouraged to tick off the “white” box on these “self-identity” forms. The horrors of the Holocaust were put aside by governments and non-Jews, in an effort to help European, “white” Jews integrate into society, but simply checking “white” erases us. It erases Jewish ethnicity and it erases Jews of colour. Jews from the Middle East, India, Asia, Africa and South America – Jews from anywhere we’ve lived where skin colour might not have been deemed Caucasian, white or European.

This North American erasure is so deep that Jews of colour often describe the discrimination they face when attending synagogue – there are many instances in which a member of the Ashkenazi “white” majority questions if they are full-fledged congregants. They’re asked if they are converts, or guests. Imagine the alienation Jewish people with darker skin face when asked, “Are you really Jewish?” or “Where are you really from?” every time they walk into a service.

Israel’s Jewish population is much more diverse in terms of skin tone than what one finds in the United States or Canada but, historically, it’s been hard for Mizrahi Jews to gain leadership roles in Israel, too. So many Israeli Ashkenazi Jews have bought into this whiteness identity, too.

In the United States, when Jews “became” white, they no longer were excluded from country clubs, university quotas, etc. There was an advantage to accepting this new categorization, even as it still created terrible, completely unethical inequities among people, including Jews, based on skin colour.

As a result of this “becoming white” transition, some oppressed minorities and the political left now may see Jewish people as part of an oppressive white majority. In this view, white Jews have no legitimate complaints about how we are treated, because, suddenly, we’re just part of the privileged majority. So, in addition to hate from the political right, there’s also abuse from the left if Jewish people speak out about antisemitism.

Navigating this landscape is difficult. We all have bias. No one is completely free of it. We’re raised with it and must each work to do better. Yet, in a time when Canadians are watching hate crimes rise against Jewish and Muslim communities, it’s our obligation to do more. Confronting Canada’s residential school history, the deaths of Indigenous children, and Canada’s treatment of Indigenous people overall forces us to think further about what it means to uphold certain “historic” narratives – narratives that don’t reflect what really happened.

Manitoba now wants to collect data about race, ethnicity and indigeneity on its COVID vaccine consent forms. This would allow the province to learn more about vaccination rates and virus rates in various populations.

I’ve printed out the paperwork for my second jab and I’m looking forward to celebrating this chance to be fully vaccinated. Even so, I’m wondering what box to tick off. Choosing “Other” reinforces that antisemitic tradition of negative identity politics. I’d like to avoid that. I’m proud to be Jewish – but it’s not one of the options on the form.

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.

On autism and being Jewish

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Immigration challenges

Six-year-old Biniyam Tesfahun with his family shortly before being transported to Israel for heart surgery. (photo by Basleel Tadesse)

Last month, while Israel was still in lockdown, an urgent flight from Ethiopia arrived at Ben-Gurion Airport. The airport was closed and incoming commercial flights had been banned in an effort to contain coronavirus infection rates. The privately chartered plane, sponsored by the International Christian Embassy Jerusalem, taxied onto the tarmac in the early hours of Friday, Feb. 12, carrying some 296 Ethiopian Jewish olim and six children in need of heart surgery.

One of those children was Biniyam Tesfahun, a 6-year-old Ethiopian-Jewish descendant who had not been granted aliyah by Israel. Doctors had discovered a rare congenital defect a month earlier that had produced a hole in his heart. The Israeli nonprofit Save a Child’s Heart had secured seats on the plane for five Ethiopian children and there was room for one more. But about a week before the flight was to depart, the family received word that the Ministry of the Interior had denied a visa.

Word spread quickly within the Ethiopian community in Israel.

Israelis began posting the news on Facebook sites, anguished that the child could die without treatment. Readers in the United States, Britain and Ethiopia stepped in to write articles and post pictures calling for the government to grant aliyah for the little boy and his family.

In no time, the news reached the office of the minister of immigration and absorption, Pnina Tamano-Shata, who insisted the surgery was an emergency and urged the Ministry of Interior to reconsider its position. A day before the flight was to take off, Biniyam’s parents were told the request was approved. The boy and his family would be issued a 10-day permit for medical treatment in Israel.

“It was all very dramatic,” said Avi Bram, who works for the Gondar, Ethiopia-based aid organization Meketa and helped coordinate the family’s transport to the airport. “None of the family is on the aliyah list, and they have not been given any permission to stay,” but the airlift was finally allowed.

Biniyam’s story, which has now traveled around the globe and been published in multiple languages, is a testament to the bond between the 150,000 members of Israel’s Ethiopian community, the Beta Israel, and the roughly 7,000 descendants still living in Ethiopia. It’s a connection, said Uri Perednik, that dominates the consciousness of many Ethiopian-Israelis on a daily basis and impacts their lives. Perednik serves as the chair for the Struggle for Aliyah for Ethiopian Jewry (SAEJ), a nonprofit organization based in Jerusalem that advocates for the repatriation of the Beta Israel to the Jewish homeland.

Perednik said what happens to the family members in Ethiopia economically and socially continues to have a direct impact on the community in Israel. He added that some of the Beta Israel have been waiting decades to be reunited with their family members. “They are torn between Ethiopia and Israel,” he said. “They send half of their salaries to Ethiopia for their families there.”

The coronavirus pandemic shutdown last year and the growing civil unrest in Ethiopia have only exacerbated concerns. “Now people also have smaller salaries or no salaries because of the COVID economic situation in Israel. So it is very tough on the families,” he added.

Ethiopian-Israelis continue to be among the lowest-paid workers in the country. A study by a media outlet (2018) found that almost 70% of Ethiopian-Israelis work junior positions to cover their household expenses, in a country that has the seventh-highest cost of living in the world (2019). For new arrivals from Ethiopia, that economic disparity can be a Catch-22, as they find they are now the major breadwinners for two entirely separate households.

Absorption challenges

Tamano-Shata, who was appointed in 2020 to direct the country’s immigration and absorption programs, says improving economic opportunities for immigrants starts with equipping them with better tools. Tamano-Shata, who arrived in Israel at the age of 3 during the 1980s Operation Solomon airlift, is the first Ethiopian-born woman to hold a Knesset seat. She understands well the challenges that Ethiopian Jews face as new citizens.

Over the past year, her ministry has restructured several core services of the country’s immigration program. She has expanded Hebrew language study for immigrants from one-and-a-half years to 10 years to help new citizens gain competency in Hebrew. Language barriers, said Tamano-Shata, are “shared [by] all olim from all over the world – those who speak English, Amharic, French, Russian, Portuguese and more.” Studies in Israel have shown that language fluency often affects employment opportunities.

Tamano-Shata has also drafted a five-year plan for “optimal integration” of new olim and targeted benefits, tax breaks and housing assistance that can help new immigrants get started when they begin looking for a new home.

photo - Minister of Immigration and Absorption Pnina Tamano-Shata, second from the right, greets Ethiopian olim as they arrive in Israel. In November 2020, Tamano-Shata announced the planned aliyah of 2,000 olim from Ethiopia, and her ministry recently reached that target — Minister of Immigration and Absorption Pnina Tamano-Shata, second from the right, greets Ethiopian olim as they arrive in Israel. In November 2020, Tamano-Shata announced the planned aliyah of 2,000 olim from Ethiopia, and her ministry recently reached that target. *(photo by Naga Malasa/Ministry of Aliyah and Integration)*

Perednik said the government has been trying for years to address immigrant housing shortages, which are exacerbated by a national housing crisis. “There have been a few housing programs by the government that were supposed to help young Ethiopian families move to better houses,” Perednik said, but “nothing has really changed.” There is hope that Tamano-Shata’s efforts will finally help the situation.

In 2016, Tamano-Shata gained notoriety as a junior Knesset member for calling attention to discrimination against Ethiopian-Israelis. Her calls led to changes to the way racial discrimination is addressed within the halls of the Israeli government. They helped open a national dialogue about racial profiling and discrimination, problems that Perednik said still continue today.

Jewish identity in Israel

Israeli author Rabbi Menachem Waldman agrees that racism is a problem in Israel. In his opinion, the greatest obstacle that the Beta Israel face is how they are perceived by other Israelis. Waldman is the author of 10 books on Ethiopian Jewry. At present, he serves jointly as the manager of Israel’s absorption program and rabbi for the Jewish communities in Ethiopia.

Waldman said the main obstacle that Ethiopian-Israelis continue to face is “their Jewish identity and their colour.” He said, even though rabbis ruled decades ago that the Beta Israel were Jewish and should be allowed to immigrate as Jews, Ethiopian-Israeli citizens continue to face scrutiny and disbelief that they are “100% Jewish.”

The more recent immigrants were required to undergo conversion as a condition of aliyah and are frequently subjected to additional scrutiny when they apply for marriage. Waldman said he believes this type of stereotyping is harmful to new immigrants. “It [leads] to racism,” he said.

Ethiopian-Israelis face economic challenges, he added, but, still, in his view, it is the constant questions about the authenticity of their Jewish identity that pose the greatest risk. “If he is a strong Jew, like other Israelis, he can overcome the difficulties,” said Waldman. “But, if he [is led to believe] that because he is Black he isn’t like other [Israelis] … it [can sow doubt] in his life in Israel.”

Tamano-Shata’s proposed changes to the immigration and absorption programs take some of these concerns into consideration. She said the government continues to make amendments to the ulpan program, which aids in the successful integration of new immigrants. She also advocates that “education, [innovation] and role models are undoubtedly significant and important tools” when it comes to overcoming prejudice.

There have been recent advances when it comes to a broader acceptance of Beta Israel traditions and customs, which generally date back to pre-talmudic times and are not widely understood by many Israelis. In 2008, the Sigd festival was formally recognized as a national holiday. While the festival has changed dramatically since its early days in Ethiopia, there are signs of a growing appreciation of the holiday in Israel, which occurs 50 days after Yom Kippur. According to Beta Israel beliefs, it is the date when God was first revealed to Moses.

In 2020, then-deputy minister Gadi Yevarkan proposed that Sigd should become an integral part of Israeli Rosh Hashanah celebrations, and celebrated by all Jews. The yearly attendance of the festival by the prime minister and other dignitaries has helped publicize the significance of the holiday and, in turn, encourage better acceptance of the Beta Israel and their traditions in the Jewish homeland.

Jan Lee’s articles, op-eds and blog posts have been published in B’nai B’rith Magazine, Voices of Conservative and Masorti Judaism, Times of Israel and Baltimore Jewish Times, as well as a number of business, environmental and travel publications. Her blog can be found at multiculturaljew.polestarpassages.com.

Don’t wait to tell story

The other day, I went looking for a friend I met during my university days, one I had lost touch with after years of companionship. I looked him up on the internet and discovered to my dismay that he had passed away some 11 years ago. I was too late to hear his story from his own lips. I was too late to tell him my story from my own lips to his conscious mind. I felt robbed of something I felt I was entitled to. Up until the moment I learned of his fate, he was very much alive for me.

Recently, an acquaintance of my Bride’s, someone I had gotten to know through her, a person we had been visiting because of an illness, died in hospital. She unexpectedly took a turn for the worse and, in the space of seven days, had changed from someone we had been conversing with, to a mere body. I am not a stranger to this phenomenon, having lost a spouse similarly to a lingering disease, but I was shocked at this sudden transition.

I am long since retired from being an active presence in an enterprise. I recently gave up being an active manager of my own financial affairs. What I have evolved into during the last decade or so is being a teller of stories. I am still very busy at that. One of my greatest pleasures is to hear from one of my correspondents that I have expressed for them their very thoughts, if only they had put a pen to them.

All of us have stories we want to tell. We all have lots to say, lots we wish to say. Often, we do not go to the trouble of communicating our thoughts and experiences. Too often, our stories die with us. I think that is a pity. I am trying my best to ensure I am not guilty of that.

It has been a long time since my thoughts have been shared with millions of listeners. It has been many years since mine was a household name. Little matter! Though my stories, as of late, have been shared with only a few, my pleasure is gained in the telling. And in the rare responses of some of my fellows. And in the continuing hope that I leave some residues of thought here and there. That is my immortality. (Not true, of course, as I have been blessed with progeny, but you know what I mean.)

These days, death stalks us with every breath we take. The “us” I speak of are those among us who often have more stories to tell than our younger companions, by virtue of our having been around longer. We seem to be more vulnerable to the rampant virus seeking a place for replication in the air we breathe, and this vulnerability is a reminder of how important it is to take the trouble to share some of the riches many of us have dearly accumulated. The stories we have not yet told die with us.

I am highlighting this part of our mission in life. We have held a job and hopefully it contributed something. It gave us a livelihood, which may have allowed us to raise a family and accumulate something material to pass on. We may have shared things and thoughts with others, publicly and privately. We may have enriched our own lives and the lives of others. We have stories to tell. Wouldn’t it be a pity not to share them with others? Surely there are valuable secrets in that treasure chest! Even the things you may not be proud of may have paid off in valuable lessons that you made good use of.

There is a reason for us to survive the dangers around us a little longer. So, please, more masks, more handwashing, more social distancing! We need to hear your stories before you go. You owe it to your public. You owe it to yourself.

Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.