Tag: Jewish summer camp

Attack on Jewish kids

Fresh red lines have been crossed by anti-Israel agitators in Canada. These developments should alarm everyone who cares about civil society, diversity and safe spaces for children.

A coalition of antizionist groups is pressuring provincial camping associations to strip accreditation from Jewish summer camps on the basis that the camps integrate Zionism into their programming.

These opponents accuse the camps of politicizing Jewish summer camps, but the irony here is that it is the activists who are doing the politicizing. The land and the state of Israel are integral to Jewish identity. They deserve to be part of a holistic Jewish experience – camping, or any other cultural undertaking – for Jews of any age.

A primary complaint, it seems, is that Jewish camps often employ young Israelis, including (as almost all Israelis are) veterans of the Israel Defence Forces. They take it a step further, though – and this is a lesson about the insidious strategy behind the “genocide” libel. 

The term genocide, we should not need to note, carries a strict definition under international law and no competent international court has made such a finding against Israel. While the term is thrown about with abandon, including by erstwhile legitimate nongovernmental organizations, this is, at best, a contested area of discourse. 

It might have seemed that the widespread use of the term “genocide” was a means to undermine the legitimacy of the Jewish state. It is much more than that.

Having planted the flag of “genocide,” antizionist groups are now moving from this presumed “fact” to employing it as a weapon on new fronts to attack Jewish identity, culture and security worldwide – the first, apparently, being Jewish kids’ summer camp experiences.

The activists targeting Jewish camps are accusing them of endorsing “genocide.” The campaign is part of a broader effort to cast Jewish institutions as unacceptable in public life if they are connected, even tangentially, to anything associated with Israel.

Jewish summer camps have nothing to do with military strategy in Gaza or legislative decisions in Jerusalem. They have everything to do with building community, preserving language and tradition, fostering positive identity and belongingness, and providing childhood experiences that many Canadian Jews cherish and remember fondly for decades. They are also sources of relationships – dating and marriages included – for many in the Jewish world.

And that, of course, may be the point.

The anti-Israel activists know the centrality of Israel to Jewish identity. To undermine Israel, they seem to have concluded, it is necessary to attack the foundations of Jewish identity in Canada and around the world. Starting with kids.

The attempt to weaponize accreditation – a marker of safety, quality and regulatory compliance – threatens to blur the boundary between political disputes and Canada’s multicultural harmony. Provincial camping associations are rightly focused on ensuring that camps meet health, safety and staffing standards. They are not forums for arbitrating geopolitical grievances. 

What is most disturbing about this campaign is not merely its target, but its implications. If any cultural institution can be penalized because it maintains a connection to a nation or narrative that some (rightly or wrongly) find objectionable, then no group is safe from the imposition of political litmus tests in civic life. Imagine if every cultural organization that used Russian, Hausa, Arabic, Urdu or Mandarin were accused of endorsing every foreign government’s actions. The corrosive effect on Canadian pluralism would be profound.

To their credit, camping associations in Ontario and Manitoba have responded appropriately. We await similar expressions from the BC Camps Association.

Jewish camp leaders, Jewish federations and others have rightly pushed back, calling the campaign discriminatory and cautioning that it risks undermining the welfare and safety of Jewish children. Their voices deserve amplification. Protecting our children’s right to participate in enriching experiences free from political and antisemitic harassment is not a partisan concern. It is a foundational element of a just, inclusive society.

In defending Jewish summer camps, we are defending more than campfires and games. We are defending a principle: that identity – religious, cultural or ethnic – must not be a basis for discrimination in Canada. 

To suggest that Jewish camps should lose their accreditation because they use Hebrew words around a campfire, celebrate Jewish holidays or employ staff who have served in the Israeli military is to redefine discrimination as activism. 

Targeting Jewish summer camps for their cultural identity is an assault on the very foundations of multicultural community life. 

A life-changing experience

Camp Miriam is a place where chanichimot (campers) feel free to be Jewish, to celebrate their traditions and to be part of a community guided by compassion, curiosity and joy. (photo from Camp Miriam)

Last year was another remarkable one for Camp Miriam. It was our biggest summer yet, with more than 350 chanichimot (campers). As I reflect on my past two summers as rosh (camp director), I find myself flooded with memories and filled with gratitude for the Camp Miriam community. Two years may seem brief in the 77-year history of the machaneh (camp), but they have been the most meaningful, inspiring and impactful years of my life.  

photo - three girls at Camp Miriam
Each summer is filled with magical moments. (photo from Camp Miriam)

Over the past two summers, I’ve witnessed countless moments of growth and transformation. I’ve seen chanichimot arrive shy and uncertain, only to leave a few weeks later with their eyes full of tears, reminiscing with their kvutza (age group) about their favourite memories. I’ve watched tzevet (staff) bring passion, kindness, care and love to every activity and experience with their chanichimot. Each summer is filled with magical moments, from special theme days to Shabbat rikkud (Israeli dancing) to impromptu singing and dancing in the chadar ochel (dining hall). 

In a world that often feels complicated and uncertain, machaneh remains a place for belonging and safety. It’s a place where chanichimot feel free to be Jewish, to celebrate their traditions and to be part of a community guided by compassion, curiosity and joy. A place where it is encouraged to ask questions, feel deeply and be yourself. For so many of us, the magic of machaneh exists in the connections we form: to one another, to traditions and to the generations who have come before us.

photo - 2 kids at Camp Miriam
In a world that often feels complicated and uncertain, machaneh remains a place for belonging and safety. (photo from Camp Miriam)

When I first arrived at Camp Miriam in 2010, I knew immediately it was special. However, I didn’t realize how influential it would be. I have made lifelong friendships and incredible memories, and have learned countless lessons that will stick with me for the rest of my life. Camp Miriam provides a space and community where the dreams, ambitions and ideas of youth are taken seriously. Spending a summer at a camp offers young people an opportunity to step out of their comfort zone, build confidence, gain independence and form friendships that feel like family.  

Camp Miriam has changed my life in ways I couldn’t have imagined. Having the privilege of watching campers and staff grow, form lasting connections and take on new challenges has deepened my own sense of purpose, appreciation and hope. The experience is made possible by the entire community, the chanichimot who return each summer, the tzevet who choose to spend their summers creating magic, the volunteers who support us behind the scenes, and the parents who trust us to create a home away from home. 

For more than 75 years, Camp Miriam has been a place where young people discover their voice, their community and a sense of possibility. The experiences built each summer continue to empower youth long after they leave camp. 

Ariella Smith-Eidelman was director of Camp Miriam, 2024-2025.

Benefits of being a counselor

A fundamental part of being a counselor is to support the campers. (photo from Camp Kalsman)

Rachel Mintz worked as junior counselor, senior counselor, canoe specialist and assistant director at Camp BB-Riback in the late 1990s. In her work today as deputy chief data officer for Environment and Climate Change Canada, she’s quick to credit her leadership style, passion and confidence to the skills she learned at camp.

“Camp actually played a role in my career path,” she told the Independent. “One major lesson a person learns from work at camp is the power of passion. Anyone who came in 1998, when I was canoe specialist, would’ve experienced how much I loved teaching kids the freedom of paddling their own canoe. Today, with the staff I manage, I believe in finding projects that align with their strengths and passion.

“My last year of camp, I was 19 and working as assistant director, a position that gave me the confidence to apply and take on future management roles,” she added. “I learned the importance of a leadership role and the ‘behind the scenes.’ I came to realize that I have skills to coordinate moving parts and that I enjoy influencing others in their work.”

Jewish camp directors in the northwest are already recruiting counselors for summer 2026.

“As a counselor at camp, you build community, work with kids, run programs and act as a role model,” said Zach Duitch, executive director at Camp Solomon Schechter. “These experiences running a cabin, dealing with challenges and problem-solving teach you resiliency, which is critical for this age group. Our counselors learn from their experiences and realize that they can overcome things with patience, communication and problem-solving. It’s such an important learning experience.”

Duitch believes strongly that a position as a camp counselor teaches teens skills they would never learn in a traditional retail environment or minimum-wage summer job. “They’re learning hospitality, conflict resolution, health and hygiene for a group of eight-to-12 kids, how to run a program – these are human skills and executive skills,” he said. “We even take their phones!

“Consider that, if our counselors didn’t do this, they’d likely be bumming around at home on their phones and staying up late,” he explained. “My message to these teens is this: working as a counselor is an experience that truly doesn’t exist elsewhere. Take advantage of this opportunity as long as you can, before you’re thrown into really needing to find a job.”

Duitch’s own work as a camp counselor set him on the path to dedicating his life to Jewish work. Another camper he knew, the late Rabbi Matthew Bellas, found his path to the rabbinate at camp. “Camp teaches you skills, but it also shows you what your passions are,” said Duitch.

If money is your teen’s top priority for the summer, a camp counselor position is not going to be a top contender. The salaries for counselors range from honorariums to a few thousand dollars. One upside of the money earned at camp is that the counselors don’t spend it while they’re working. “When you leave at the end of the summer, you leave with a lump sum,” Duitch said. 

Rather than look at it in financial terms, he encouraged parents to think about the opportunity camp counseling gives teens to create impact.

“If you went to camp and loved the immersive programming, the fun, the memorable moments and the joy, maybe this is your turn to give back to the kids as a counselor. There’s nothing like living a fully immersive Jewish experience at camp, surrounded by a community you can rely on.” 

Don’t look at it as a “summer filler,” agreed Liza Rozen-Delman, executive director at Camp Hatikvah. “Your teen will build confidence and emotional maturity as a counselor, learning to manage stress, communicate clearly, lead with empathy and take real responsibility. These are skills that prepare them for university, travel and future careers.”

Becoming a counselor is the natural next step after aging out of camp, she said. “It lets young people return to a place they grew up, one that feels safe, familiar and supportive. These roles offer structure, purpose and a guided environment where teens can practise independence, learn to meet expectations and develop accountability, something many aren’t used to today.”

The work is meaningful but demanding, she noted, with early mornings, late nights and constant responsibility, as counselors support kids, run activities and manage group dynamics. “One of my favourite sayings,” she shared, “is that camp doesn’t just prepare young adults for ‘work,’ it prepares them for life.”

At Schechter, candidates are interviewed for their past experience working with kids, their values, trust, accountability and communication skills. 

“Have they failed before, and have they used that experience to succeed? We love to give second chances at camp,” Duitch said. 

Rozen-Delman said she looks for counselors who demonstrate empathy, kindness, responsibility, confidence and initiative. “They need to be team players and strong communicators,” she said.

“Camp doesn’t run without these young Jewish role models,” Duitch added. “They bring the magic to life, and we want to continue to invest in them, motivate them, provide them with resources and challenge them.”

“Working at camp is an investment in your development,” said Stacy Shaikin, executive director at Camp BB-Riback. “There’s no other job for young people that gives you this much responsibility and a chance to troubleshoot and think on your feet. Everyone who has ever done it looks back on it and uses these tools in their careers.”

When Rachel Mintz’s daughter returned home from camp, Rachel quizzed her on her favourite part. Her answer was immediate, and just two words: the counselors. 

Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond.

Camper to counselor

The writer as a kid at Camp Shalom with the camp’s director, Ben Horev. (photo from Uriel Presman Chikiar)

I was 9 years old when I first arrived at Camp Shalom. My family had recently immigrated from Argentina, and we were settling into Vancouver. I barely spoke English. When my parents told me they were sending me to summer camp, I panicked. I imagined feeling out of place and not understanding anyone around me. That fear did not last long.  

From the minute I stepped onto the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver grounds, I was met with warmth. Counselors welcomed me by name and made it feel as though I already been to camp. Ben Horev, the camp director, greeted every camper as they arrived. The way he spoke to each person made it clear that everyone mattered. 

What stayed with me most from that first day was not an activity or a game. It was the first friend I made. I remember standing off to the side, unsure of what to do, when another camper walked over and introduced himself. We decided to stick together for the rest of the day. We tossed a ball back and forth, spoke in short, hesitant sentences, and laughed when my vocabulary failed me. That small moment of inclusion changed everything. Camp suddenly felt manageable. I learned that camp was not defined by its schedule or programming, but by the people who made sure no one felt like a stranger. 

Over the next few summers, Camp Shalom became an important part of my life. I formed friendships that lasted well beyond childhood and learned skills that still shape who I am today. I learned how to play Magic: The Gathering with friends I’ve kept in touch with. I discovered a love for camping through pitching tents, building fires and spending time outdoors. To this day, camping remains one of my favourite ways to spend time outside. 

By the time I became old enough to be a counselor-in-training, returning to camp felt natural. The counselors I had looked up to as a camper led with care, energy and intention, and their impact stayed with me. I wanted to be that person for someone else. I wanted to help create the same sense of belonging that had meant so much to me. 

My first summer as a counselor was unforgettable. Being part of a community that had played such a formative role in my childhood felt meaningful in new ways. I enjoyed leading programs, sharing activities I had grown up with, and helping campers feel comfortable in a new environment. One of the most meaningful experiences was working alongside my former counselors: being treated as a colleague marked a full-circle moment. 

As a camper, my role was simple. As a counselor, I was responsible for the safety, well-being and emotional experience of those in my care. I had to learn how to manage different personalities, resolve conflicts and stay calm in unpredictable situations. It was a challenge, but it pushed me to grow.

One night, during an overnight camping trip, we heard a loud noise outside and feared it was a bear. The campers were scared and, honestly, so was I. We gathered together and began singing our Shira circle songs, the same ones we sing every morning. We sang our hearts out to make noise, to scare the bear, and to remind everyone that we were safe. That moment has stayed with me. I learned that leadership is not about pretending fear does not exist; it is about helping others feel steady in uncertain moments. 

Over time, I noticed changes at Camp Shalom. New staff brought fresh ideas, and campers arrived with different needs, especially in the years following COVID-19. Still, the core of the camp never changed. Respect, responsibility and community showed up in small, everyday ways, like leaving a campsite cleaner than we found it or making sure no one was left sitting alone. 

Those habits have shaped how I understand tikkun olam and chesed. Repairing the world doesn’t mean grand gestures; it means taking responsibility for the space and the people around you. Kindness is not abstract either; it is patience, inclusion and showing up for someone who needed it. These lessons were reinforced every Friday, when everyone came together for Shabbat. They continue to guide how I try to show up for others.

Looking back, Camp Shalom is not just a place I attended as a child. It is part of who I am. It was where I found belonging in a new country, built lasting friendships and learned the values that continue to guide me. Although I am no longer a counselor, I hope that, even in some small way, today’s campers feel what I felt when I first arrived: safe, supported and welcome. 

Uriel Presman Chikiar is a student at Queen’s University and serves as executive vice-president of external relations at Hillel Queen’s.

The value(s) of Jewish camp

Summer camp experiences, which encompass a range of activities campers get to try, can be costly.  (photo from Camp Hatikvah)

If you get sticker shock when you see the cost of Jewish summer camp, you’re not alone. Pay full fare and you could easily be spending $1,000 per week. But there’s a reason it’s so high, say camp directors. Running a Jewish camp is an expensive endeavour – and it’s not getting any cheaper.

For Camp Hatikvah, which welcomes 480 summer campers to the Okanagan each year and a staff of 90, the biggest chunk of its operating budget – just over $2 million in 2024 – is salaries and honorariums. Only two staff members have year-round employment and the rest serve only in seasonal roles, said Liza Rozen-Delman, executive director. Food is the next largest expense, followed by costs related to site operations. And the general program experiences, which encompass the range of activities campers get to try, don’t come cheap either. Hatikvah campers get to waterski and wakeboard, and have access to an inflatable thunderdome on the lake, among other experiences. Now add the cost of insurance to the equation.

“Camper fees cover the direct costs of care, supervision, food and other daily needs, but donors fund all capital projects, major equipment purchases and our financial assistance program,” she said. “Camp could never break even on fees alone. We rely on our donors to help offset operational costs by funding anything considered an investment that lasts beyond a single summer.”

The biggest challenge facing Jewish camps across North America is maintaining affordability for middle-income families, Rozen-Delman said. “All camps, including ours, have wonderful financial assistance programs for those in clear need. What is harder to manage is families who earn higher incomes but struggle to balance the high cost of living an engaged Jewish life.”

Hatikvah tries to manage this by setting its camp fees as low as possible and requesting donations from those who can donate. “We’re fortunate to have donors who understand the immense importance of a Jewish camping experience,” she said.

The same is true for other camps. 

“Camp tuition doesn’t cover the cost of operating Camp Miriam and, as expenses continue to rise, that gap only widens,” said Leya Robinson, Miriam’s community director, who noted that no camper is turned away due to lack of funds and about 40% of campers receive a scholarship each summer. 

“We rely heavily on donors and grants not only to uphold this commitment but also to cover essential camp operating costs,” said Robinson. “Operating costs include salaries, staff training and benefits, food services, facility maintenance, utilities, insurance, programming, transportation, property taxes, equipment, medical supplies, annual organizational dues and fees, and security.” She added that the camp, which is located on Gabriola Island, is in the midst of a capital campaign “to upgrade our physical facilities so we can continue delivering the ‘Miriam magic’ for generations to come.”

Camp Miriam has more than 350 campers each summer and 85 summer staff. Throughout the year, they have three full-time and three part-time staff.

In Washington State, Camp Solomon Schechter welcomes 630 campers over the course of a summer, and has a staff of 80 to 100.

“Tuition covers only 80% of our operating costs, so we rely on the community to help us with donations, and on our diversifying revenue stream, which includes an outdoor school and a retreat centre available for rent,” said Zach Duitch, executive director. 

Schechter is a kosher camp, and kosher food, especially meat, chicken and cheese, are much more expensive than their non-kosher equivalents. The cost of taking care of 100 staff is high, and running high-quality programs infused with Jewish values and themes requires significant funds, too. Up to 30% of camp staff comes from Israel, South America and the United Kingdom. “We love that delegation and we can’t run the camp without them, but, between agency fees, flights and visas, the costs add up,” Duitch said.

Programming fees are expensive, too. “Today’s parents want and expect their kids to develop new skills at camp, and that demands staff and supplies,” he said. “It’s not enough to play gaga or kick a soccer ball around for three weeks. They want a new toolkit and to know their kids are advancing their skills in terms of tefillah [prayer], sports, arts, cooking and everything we do at camp.”

Like Rozen-Delman, Duitch emphasized the quandary of camp fees for middle-class families. “Affluent families can afford to send their kids to camp. About 25% of our camper base requests some level of financial aid,” he said. “The trickiest part is for middle-class families that want to send their kids to camp. Maybe they need to put a new roof on their house, and that takes priority. How do we make sure all families can come to camp? We know how essential the camp experience is in terms of developing lifelong friendships, connecting to Israel and fomenting a strong Jewish identity.”

Schechter’s annual operating budget is $5.5 million and, while the camp has figured out how to stay financially solvent, it can get challenging when donors drop the size of their gift, or if the camp doesn’t meet its campership goals. “We’re creative and, if we have to pivot, we certainly do,” Duitch said. “We need to focus on endowment, life or legacy gifts, because those can add thousands of dollars into your operations without touching the principal. Our goal is to grow our endowment to secure our programs and infuse cash into our operating budget.”

Consider this, said Stacy Shaikin, executive director of Camp BB Riback in Alberta. “We open six weeks ahead of summer camp, to ‘turn the machine on’ before the kids can come out. There’s an insane number of requirements – health, safety, certifications, and all that stuff has increased in price. We don’t just pay the counselors, we house and feed them. And, remember, nothing in the Jewish community comes cheap. You’re dealing with a market that is small and has ethnocentric needs, such as kashrut and special skills required for teaching. We bring in Israelis to add those cultural pieces to the experiences, and that comes at a cost, too.”

Camp BB Riback welcomes around 250 campers and 70 staff each summer, and its prices run at the lower end of the Jewish camp fee spectrum Canada-wide, said Shaikin. However, there are costs of running a Jewish summer camp that can’t be avoided.

“I have 40-plus buildings that use electricity, a boat that requires maintenance and fuel, a ropes course that has to be certified every year, a horse program and a swimming pool. Anyone that runs a swimming pool will tell you it’s a money pit,” Shaikin said. “And, every year that goes by, you have to think about renovations and replacements.”

He stressed, “I’m not complaining – I’m just offering insight into the business. We’re not-for-profit and our goal is to not lose money, but also to put something back into keeping our campsite up.” 

Most of the nearby Jewish summer camps were established more than 70 years ago and maintenance costs run high – keeping the property competitive and its facilities clean, safe and up to code, means putting money back in every year. 

So, as you start to consider a Jewish camp experience for your child, keep in mind the value being offered, as well as the values being imparted.

“We’re not making money at our Jewish camp. We’re literally just trying to keep the business afloat and out of debt, which is a struggle for not-for-profits,” Shaikin said. “We’re a community entity and we’re not gouging families in any shape or form. We take our responsibility seriously: to encourage people to send their kids to Jewish summer camp. If they do, then we will continue to have a flourishing Jewish identity in our province, our country and in the world.”

Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond.

Chance led to great decision

The list of things that kids learn at summer camp, while having fun and making friends, is almost endless. (photo from Camp Miriam)

Serendipity led us to Camp Miriam. In the span of one week in the fall of 2017, two friends – who didn’t know each other at the time – asked where I was planning to send my then–7-year-old daughter to camp. I had been thinking about it but had no idea where to begin. Having not grown up in Vancouver, I didn’t know the options. Both friends spoke glowingly about Camp Miriam. One was an alum; the other had sent her older daughter.

Camp registration day was approaching, and both of my friends’ daughters were desperate to know who else would be going. I relied on those moms’ advice and, with their gentle prodding, made one of the best parenting decisions I’ve ever made. To this day, these moms remain among my most trusted friends.

That first summer, after the five-day introductory session for her age group at Camp Miriam, our daughter came down the steps at the ferry terminal looking exhausted but happy. She was holding hands with a new friend. She hugged her friend goodbye before she hugged us hello. In the car ride home, we asked her to tell us about camp.

“There was a big holiday and it was so much fun. Can I go to camp every year for that holiday?”

I pulled out my phone to Google Jewish holidays in July. There were a few obscure ones, but nothing that seemed worth traveling on three buses and two ferries to celebrate.

“Do you remember what holiday it was?” I asked.

“They called it Shabbat.”

My husband and I looked at each other.

“Shabbat happens every week – we celebrate Shabbat, too,” I started to explain. From the rearview mirror, I could see her face scrunch up.

“Well,” she said, “they celebrate it much better at camp.”

It turns out Shabbat isn’t the only thing they do better at Camp Miriam.

Recently, I asked my daughter what she loves most about camp. She mentioned a few specifics – tiyul (the overnight backpacking trip), rikud (the weekly Shabbat Israeli folk dance) – and then said something I wasn’t expecting, because it’s exactly the same thing I love most about Camp Miriam. She said her favourite thing is how much she learns there.

photo - two boys carrying a pail
(photo from Camp Miriam)

As she rattled off the list of topics – Israel, Jewish traditions, Hebrew, practical skills, responsibility – I realized how often I’m pleasantly surprised by what she has learned from camp. Things beyond the public school curriculum, and often beyond even my most patient and, dare I say, awesome parenting. Camp is both a safe space and a challenging one. At camp, my daughter has the opportunity to hone essential life skills: independence, resilience, teamwork, acceptance, adaptability. She has gained confidence, built friendships, appreciated the restorative power of nature, and enjoyed time away from screens. She has learned to paddle a kayak, varnish a wooden canoe, and passed the swim test doing the backstroke the year she forgot her goggles and decided the chlorine stung her eyes. She didn’t even know what varnish was before camp. And I didn’t know she could backstroke across an entire pool.

I’ve learned a lot, too.

The Camp Miriam registrar later told me I had been the stereotypical nervous mom. I would show up at information sessions full of concerns and fire endless questions at the staff. Eventually, she gently reminded me that my anxiety could rub off on my child. “We’ve got this,” she told me. Then, she gave me the most valuable advice of all: “Tell your kid that when they’re at camp, they should go to their counselors with their concerns and problems. That’s what they’re there for.” I can honestly say that in all the years she’s been at camp, the counselors have been there for her 100%. After a few years, I realized I should leave space at the information sessions for the new crop of nervous parents.

We’re now getting ready to send our daughter to Israel this summer with her Camp Miriam kvutzah (peer group). I’m no longer the nervous mom I was. Camp Miriam has helped me hone my own parenting skills. Even if a bit of nervousness still lingers – though I won’t admit it does – I’m mostly just thrilled for my daughter. I’m full of gratitude for the experiences camp has given her. I know this upcoming trip will be transformative, and that she’ll come back with greater insight, understanding and appreciation of Israel and Judaism. She will make friends from around the world and return home an even more confident, compassionate and resilient human being.

And, after the trip, when I pick her up at the airport, as she hugs her camp friends goodbye, I’ll be busy hugging my camp-mom friends hello.

From the JI archives … camp

image - article from Sept. 3 1937 JWB
Sept. 3, 1937: “It is practically impossible in the space of a short article to fully describe the happy holiday enjoyed by eighty-five children at the Council of Jewish Women Camp at Crescent Beach this summer,” begins this article by Mrs. M. M. Grossman. I know the first “M” refers to Max, but I couldn’t find his wife’s name before we went to press.

What strikes me every time the Jewish Independent does a Camp Guide issue is the staying power of our Jewish summer camps.

Camp Hatikvah was started in 1937 at Crescent Beach by the National Council of Jewish Women. It was run under their auspices until 1944, when, according to the camp’s website, “members of the Young Judaea youth organization arranged to first rent, and then later acquire, the property to create Camp Hatikvah.” The camp is located on Lake Kalamalka in the Okanagan Valley.

The site quotes the Independent’s predecessor, the Jewish Western Bulletin, noting that a 1949 article in the JWB stated that “Camp Hatikvah provided early participants with a ‘place where they could live and express themselves as Jews, unhampered with fear of others and free from the out-of-place feeling that is so often a part of North American Jewishness.’ Developed in the aftermath of the Holocaust, Hatikvah existed to ‘produce proud, happy Jewish youth who were earnest and sincere in their beliefs’ and committed to the re-building of the Jewish people.”

image - April 22, 1955: Camp BB Riback comes into existence.
April 22, 1955: Camp BB Riback comes into existence.

And the camp wasn’t territorial, it appears. According to a 1948 article in the JWB, Camp Hatikvah allowed Habonim Machaneh (Camp) to use its facilities for two weeks. By 1949, Habonim was renting a camp on Gabriola Island and, by 1951, Habonim Camp Miriam was in its third year, but, it seems, its first with the name Camp Miriam.

Camp BB Riback, in Pine Lake, Alta., was founded in 1955, led by Ted Riback of Calgary, who was chair of the B’nai B’rith Camp committee. There were two articles in the April 22, 1955, JWB about it, one about the camp and one about the upcoming B’nai B’rith convention, the highlight of which was anticipated to be a discussion about the camp.

image - July 13, 1956: Kids from Vancouver have always attended Camp Solomon Schechter in Washington state.
July 13, 1956: Kids from Vancouver have always attended Camp Solomon Schechter in Washington state.

While Camp Solomon Schechter was established by rabbis Joshua Stampfer and Joseph Wagner in 1954, the first mention I could find of it in the JWB was in 1956. The week-long camp at Echo Lake, Wash., was also under the supervision of Rabbi Bert Woythaler of Vancouver’s Congregation Beth Israel and the Pacific Northwest Region of the United Synagogue sponsored it. The camp has been located near Olympia, Wash., since 1968.

image - Dec. 29, 2006: Even before Camp Kalsman had a summer session, they were part of the Jewish Western Bulletin’s Camp Guide
Dec. 29, 2006: Even before Camp Kalsman had a summer session, they were part of the Jewish Western Bulletin’s Camp Guide.

Relative newcomer Camp Kalsman started in 2007, and the JWB has followed it since its beginnings, as well. In 2006, the camp ran an ad looking for a director and, in our Dec. 29, 2006, Camp Guide, David Berkman, the newly appointed director, spoke to the paper about the Union for Reform Judaism camp, in Arlington, Wash. “The buildings are under construction. Staff and campers are being recruited; programs are being planned and we must buy everything – bunks, bats, balls, arts and crafts supplies, mops…. I have a long wish list,” he said.

As that 2006 article by Pearl Salkin noted, “The camps might not have big brass bands, but the excitement is already building. If you want your children to join in the fun, sign them up now, before the parade passes by.”

 

Enjoy the best of Broadway

“It may sound like a cliché, but I really believe that music is a unique language. You don’t have to know how to read it, you might not understand the lyrics, but it can still touch your heart and soul,” Omer Shaish told the Independent. “At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter what genre you listen to, it will always make you feel something. That’s what I always hope to do when I get on stage – use the music to touch people’s hearts and souls.”

photo - Omer Shaish brings My Broadway Shpiel – stories, Broadway tunes, popular Hebrew songs and original music – to Vancouver Aug. 21
Omer Shaish brings My Broadway Shpiel – stories, Broadway tunes, popular Hebrew songs and original music – to Vancouver Aug. 21. (photo from omershaish.com)

Shaish brings My Broadway Shpiel to Vancouver Aug. 21, 7:30 p.m., at Temple Sholom. In addition to offering a night of Broadway tunes, popular Hebrew songs and his own original music, the performance will raise money for Temple Sholom’s campership program.

While Shaish never attended summer camp growing up, he did talk about growing up in the Jewish community.

“We’re one big family and I love that about us,” said the singer, who was born and raised in Rishon LeZion, which is about 20 minutes south of Tel Aviv.

“I spent most of my teenage years and my early 20s in Tel Aviv, where I was surrounded by great art, amazing people and incredible food!” said Shaish, who knew from a young age that he was going to be a singer.

“My parents say that, as a toddler, I’d pick up anything that could resemble a microphone and sing at the top of my lungs – everywhere. I always loved having an audience,” he said. “Even though, in real life, I sometimes come across as a bit shy and introverted, having an audience to sing for always made me feel at home. Up until today, having an audience, no matter how big or small, brings me to life.”

Shaish started his career as a vocalist in the Israeli Air Force Band, performing on military bases and in Jewish communities in Europe and Canada. He also is an actor, performing in Israel before moving to New York City in 2007 and graduating from the American Musical and Dramatic Academy. He has numerous theatre, vocalist and soloist credits to his name, but mainly has been touring internationally as part of the classical vocal trio Kol Esperanza and with his self-produced, one-person show My Broadway Shpiel.

“Even though I love acting, I’ve been focusing on singing in the past few years,” he told the Independent. “I realized, throughout the years, that I feel more at home just being myself on stage. I enjoy sharing these moments with the audience and it makes every show feel different and so alive. Playing a character can be interesting, too, but, for me, there’s nothing better than simply being myself.”

At the moment, Shaish calls Baltimore, Md., home. Previously, he toured the United States for many years, and lived a few years in Los Angeles and in Miami.

“I absolutely love traveling, seeing the world and meeting lovely, interesting people,” he said. “My friends always make fun of me and say that they never know where I’m at, to which I reply with, ‘neither do I.’ It can be exhausting at times, but it’s always worth it. I feel very lucky to do what I love and that gives me a lot of energy to keep at it.”

He’s looking forward to performing here.

“I love Vancouver!” said Shaish. “I’ve been there many times and I think it’s one of the most beautiful places on earth. The last time was only a few months ago, for rehearsals and a recording session. I’ve performed in Vancouver before and I can’t wait to be back and enjoy the views, the fresh air and, of course, the wonderful people!”

About the show he’s bringing with him, My Broadway Shpiel, he said, “As I tell my story and share some anecdotes about the Jewish story of Broadway, I sing some classics from Fiddler on the Roof and West Side Story, and all the way to some surprises by ABBA and Elvis Presley!”

One of his favourite moments in the performance is when he shares the experience of living in the United States with a foreign name. 

“I have heard so many variations of my name from so many people that I have met,” he said. “‘Omer’ apparently isn’t very easy to pronounce. So, one day, I thought, why not write a song about it? I took Liza Minelli’s ‘Liza with a Z’ and turned it into ‘Omer with an E.’ At first, I wanted that to be the name of my show, but My Broadway Shpiel felt more fitting.”

As for the importance of music, he said, “This brings me back to how I see music as a language. It has superpowers. It can take us away from one reality and bring us to a completely different one within a split second. It triggers our emotions in such a powerful way. When people talk to me after a show and say that I made them laugh, made them cry, or made them forget about their day, I know I did something right.”

For tickets to My Broadway Shpiel, visit tickettailor.com/events/templesholom/1702794. 

Enjoy concert, help campers

Temple Sholom Senior Rabbi Dan Moskovitz and kids from the shul at Camp Kalsman. Proceeds from Omer Shaish’s My Broadway Shpiel performance on Aug. 21 go towards Temple Sholom’s campership program. (photo from Temple Sholom)

International singer and actor Omer Shaish brings My Broadway Shpiel to Vancouver on Aug. 21. Attendees can look forward to music from West Side Story, Fiddler on the Roof, Les Misérables and La Cage Aux Folles, as well as original music and some of Shaish’s personal favourites, including popular Hebrew songs. Proceeds from the concert go towards Temple Sholom’s campership program.

Shaish was born and raised in Israel and has performed at Habima National Theatre and Beit Lessin Theatre in Tel Aviv. In 2007, he moved to New York City and graduated from the American Musical and Dramatic Academy. With numerous theatre and vocalist credits to his name, Shaish has been touring the world with the classical vocal trio Kol Esperanza, as well as his self-produced show My Broadway Shpiel.

Each year, Temple Sholom, along with its Sisterhood and the Harlene Riback Camp Scholarship, offers a scholarship for up to $150 per child to its member families to help the congregation’s youth attend a Jewish day camp or sleepaway camp. This year, it distributed a total of $15,880 for 74 campers and its goal is to raise even more funds for next year’s campers. 

Studies have shown that Jewish camping is key to helping Jewish children explore their Judaism and establish a long-term Jewish connection. Temple Sholom’s campership initiative began in 1975 and has been going strong ever since.

“It is the kehila kedosha, or sacred community, of our Sisterhood that rises to this challenge, among other community responsibilities and occasions. It just so happens that the beautiful concept of kehila kedosha is instilled in our children, our future leaders, at Jewish summer camp,” said Alisa Delisle, a Temple Sholom congregant and the mother of Camp Kalsman song leader Paloma Delisle.

“Jewish summer camp encourages children to discover their Jewish identity while fostering a sense of belonging in a community like no other. For most, this is the first experience to navigate personal care and the world of peers without a parent or guardian’s assistance. As a sacred community, campers learn to take care of one another, cultivate pride in their surroundings and appreciate the power of Shabbat. Through experiential learning, Jewishness at camp is incorporated into everything fun.”

Camp Kalsman and PJ Library also offer summer camp scholarships to the broader Jewish community.

For tickets to My Broadway Shpiel, visit tickettailor.com/events/templesholom/1702794. 

– Courtesy Temple Sholom

Celebration of Jewish camps

The bright, happy cover of The Scribe Summer Camps Issue, which was released last month by the Jewish Museum & Archives of British Columbia (JMABC), draws readers right in. The 95-page magazine-format journal is packed with colour photos of campers having a great time, doing some amazing things in the beautiful place we live, the Pacific Northwest.

image - The Scribe Summer Camps Issue coverThe issue features seven camps. In the order they are presented, they are overnight options Camp Miriam (Gabriola Island, BC), Camp Hatikvah (Okanagan Valley, BC), Camp Solomon Schechter (near Olympia, Wash.), Camp Kalsman (Arlington, Wash.) and Sephardic Adventure Camp (Cle Ulum, Wash.), and day options Camp Gan Israel (Vancouver) and the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver’s Camp Shalom. The basic structure of each profile is an overview of the camp and its history, then oral history segments from camp directors; all the overnight camp sections include interviews with former campers, as well.

Many Jewish Independent readers will recognize the names at least of most of the former attendees of the BC overnight camps: Bernie Simpson, Selina Robinson, Robert Krell, David Levi, Danya Rogen, Sam Gutman, Ted Zacks, Arthur Dodek, Stephen Glanzberg, Susan Fine and Kayla Cohen. And, from the Jewish Independent’s annual Camp Guides, many of the directors and staff might even be familiar: Leah Levi (Miriam), Liza Rozen-Delman (Hatikvah), Zach Duitch (Solomon Schechter), Rabbi Ilana Mills (Kalsman), Rabbi Dovid and Chaya Rosenfeld (Gan Israel) and Ben Horev (Camp Shalom).

The one camp that was new to the JI was a long-established one, Sephardic Adventure Camp, whose director is Rabbi Kenneth Pollack. It’s been around for decades and yet hadn’t crossed our radar. There are always things to learn!

In the interviews, people talk about how they became involved with their camp, how it is/was to work there, what makes/made their experience special. They are also asked why Jewish camps are important in their view, what they have learned, in what ways camp inspired them, and more.

Interviewees share some of their personal history, as well as answer more light-hearted queries, like “Your favourite food served at camp?” “Your favourite day at camp?” “If you were still attending camp, what activity would you want to excel at?” “If you weren’t working in the career you’re in, what would you be?”

As unique as all the camps are, there is overlap of such things as activities offered, lessons learned, inspirations gained, even though some camps are more ideological, some place more emphasis on Judaism and religious observance, others prioritize sports and outdoor life.

“Regardless of ideology or format,” writes Elana Wenner, the museum’s director of programming and development, in her introduction, “the camps are united in their intention to organically build community through immersive and engaging experiences.”

She observes: “Through the articles in this publication, three overarching themes emerge that serve to unite the experiences shared at all seven camps. They are: 1. The role of the personal camp experience as a grounding point for Jewish self-identity; 2. The influence of Jewish camp experience on personal values and ideals; and 3. The integral link between Jewish summer camp attendance and Jewish community involvement, both in childhood and later in life.”

While there is much data to support the personal and communal benefits of Jewish camp, there’s nothing like personal expressions to bring that message home.

“The personal stories shared by alumni and staff and supporters reveal how these camps forge deep, lasting connections that extend well beyond the summer months,” writes archivist Alysa Routtenberg in the journal’s concluding section. “These connections create a network of relationships that continue to enrich participants’ lives and bolster their sense of belonging.”

And Routtenberg underscores the need to preserve, as the JMABC does, these experiences through oral histories.

“By recording and sharing these stories,” she writes, “we ensure that the essence of Jewish summer camps is preserved for future generations, offering them a window into a cherished aspect of Jewish life.”

That includes the serious and the less serious of life. Reading about how Jewish summer camp allowed people to connect more deeply with their Jewish identity, learn valuable personal and professional lessons, make lifelong friends and more, is as interesting as discovering that anyone has a favourite camp food and what camp activity people would have wanted to excel at.

Carol Crenna was the managing editor and features writer for this edition of The Scribe; Sonia Bishop, graphic designer. Among the many people who donated their time and skills to getting the journal to publication were Heather Glassman Berkowitz, as copy editor, and Helen Aqua and Judith Gurfinkel, who chair the Scribe committee, were editorial consultants. Other volunteers acted as interviewers and transcribers. The journal committee is Aqua, Gurfinkel, Glassman Berkowitz, Gary Averbach, Debby Freiman, Daniella Givon (president of the JMABC board), Barb Schober and Ronnie Tessler.

The Camp and other issues of The Scribe can be purchased from the museum and archives for $20. Call 604-257-5199 or email [email protected].