Tag: Judaism

Sadly, not a new experience

Some of us are likely struggling to recover from the hostage-taking event at Congregation Beth Israel in Texas, along with pandemic stress. Perhaps most stressful is that we know a synagogue invasion could happen anywhere, during any service. Most of us figure out where the exits are when we go to synagogue, a Jewish community centre or other Jewish institution. We know the history. We need to be on guard when we gather.

On Jan. 15, we streamed our local congregation’s services to our Winnipeg living room and watched a kid my children knew from elementary school lead services. He was becoming a bar mitzvah. Jewish life continues despite the pandemic.

Antisemitism and traumatic events continue, too. When I realized what was happening in Texas, thanks to Jewish social media, it was hard to look away, even though it was Shabbat. Initially, non-Jewish news reports said there was an “apparent hostage-taking event.” This language was used despite the event being livestreamed. Why wasn’t it “real” from the beginning? Even after the hostages were freed, alive, thank G-d, the FBI didn’t immediately use the word antisemitism or hate.

There was no immediate answer from the FBI on why this person chose a synagogue during Shabbat services. There was a rush in some quarters to discuss why Islamophobia is wrong. Even as the hostage-taker identified his cause as aligned with that of Dr. Aafia Siddiqui, a convicted felon who was outspoken in her antisemitism at her trial, others (including the synagogue president and the FBI) suggested this was a random event. Some articles said the hostages were “detained” – somehow implying they were at fault by being at synagogue on a Saturday morning.

When Jewish leaders, as well as President Joe Biden, Vice-President Kamala Harris and Prime Minister Justin Trudeau spoke about this as an antisemitic act of terrorism, it wasn’t a narrative immediately embraced elsewhere. I found this unsettling. The feeling – of pointing out an issue but not being believed or heard – felt all too familiar. Language and how we tell our stories can twist our understanding of events, and this experience already seemed to be depicted in a way that didn’t ring true.

Certainly, the hostages will be debriefed, the hostage-taker’s family and history will be examined. We’ll learn more about what his motivations might have been. However, my instincts follow that of many Jewish people, as Rabbi Rick Jacobs, Union for Reform Judaism president, told MSNBC, “There’s no doubt that the underlying whole premise … was antisemitism,” he said, “The hostage-taker didn’t go to McDonald’s, didn’t go to some random place, and that is part of the story of antisemitism, to single Jews out.”

Remembering similar recent experiences hasn’t helped. Since the May 2021 war in Israel and Gaza, I’ve spent time reminding myself that I’m not crazy, and that I studied a lot of Middle East history as part of my long-ago undergraduate degree and graduate work. I knew that some of the narratives being touted online about the Israel/Palestine conflict were incorrect and badly mangled interpretations of the relevant history. I was particularly upset by the idea circulating on social media that Israelis were simply “white colonizers” subduing a brown people. This narrative didn’t reflect our thousands of years of history in Israel, nor did it account for the detail that, in fact, more than 50% of Israeli citizens are people of colour.

I recently studied a text in the Babylonian Talmud, Megillah 29A, which brought these issues to mind. It explored where Jews could find the Divine Presence in Babylonia. Rabbis were discussing how to find a holy place in the Diaspora after the destruction of the Temple. Rabbi Abaye says the Divine Presence visits the ancient synagogue in Huzal and the synagogue that was destroyed and rebuilt in Neharde’a. From there, two different stories are told about when the Shechinah, the Divine Presence, made itself known in Neharde’a.

Abaye died in 337 CE. So, we know that nearly 1,700 years ago, synagogues existed where Jewish people went to pray and study, and some of them were ruins that were rebuilt. Our need for holy places of gathering in the Diaspora is not new. Further, according to the stories on this page of Talmud, these places didn’t always feel safe. Sometimes, even the Divine Presence herself, the Shechinah, dropped by and that was frightening – never mind modern-day hostage-takers with guns.

A bit farther down on the page, Rabbi Eleazar haKappar, a late tannaitic rabbi (who lived roughly around 220 CE) suggests that, one day, in the future, all the synagogues and study halls in Babylonia will be transported and reestablished in Israel. Even then, there was a longing for return to Israel. Archeology shows us that Rabbi Eleazar haKappar was a real person, a colleague of Judah HaNasi, who likely spent most of his life in Katzrin. There is a door lintel originally from his beit midrash, his house of study, in the Golan Museum. Found in a mosque in the Golan Heights, its inscription says, “This is the Beit Midrash of Rabbi Eleazar haKappar.”

I felt reassured by reading about the Babylonian synagogues and the longing for Israel that was felt so long ago. Our religious connection to Israel is old. It’s in every synagogue service, every Passover seder, and deep within the Talmud. Our stories are tied to Israel. Despite others’ “versions” of history, the Jewish connection to Israel cannot be made into just a 19th-century European political movement.

Also, like the rabbis, I believe that those who are inclined to do so can feel the Shechinah within ourselves and in our synagogues. Jews and allies prayed world over for the safety of the hostages at Congregation Beth Israel. It would also take the hostages’ training and bravery and the intervention of police and FBI. Many people, including Rabbi Angela Buchdahl in New York, called 911 in the effort to try to help things turn out OK.

The trauma of this experience will linger with the Jewish community of Colleyville, Tex., for a long time. A man with mental health issues was offered shelter in a synagogue and given a cup of tea by Rabbi Charlie Cytron-Walker. That man became an armed hostage-taker. He took Jews as hostages. That rabbi and his congregants bravely handled the situation. The rabbi threw a chair at the right moment – and then, this man died there.

We’ll surely learn more detail over time. Meanwhile, we continue to be on our guard. Our congregations are holy because we come to be inside them. Sometimes, the Shechinah is there, too. This is the powerful story of the synagogues in Huzal and Neharde’a.

The text reminds us that we must keep track of our Jewish identity and narrative. Journalists who call Jews “apparent” hostages or say that Jews were “detained” in their own place of worship and an FBI spokesperson who doesn’t mention antisemitism? This isn’t our narrative. We can’t let it become the history that matters.

We’re People of the Book. We’re a people with a long, well-documented history. This ages-old written and oral history, and even archeological evidence, gives us confidence to believe in who we are and our story. Our words and the way we use them matters, so we must choose carefully. No story is perfect, we are only human. Even so, we should be the ones to tell it and guard it for future generations.

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.

A minority within a minority

Rivka Campbell, co-founder of Jews of Colour Canada. (PR photo)

On Jan. 9, Rivka Campbell, co-founder of Jews of Colour Canada, spoke on the topic Harmony in a Divided Identity: A Minority Within a Minority, the third Zoom talk in Kolot Mayim Reform Temple’s 2021-22 Building Bridges lecture series.

A Jew of Jamaican descent, Campbell seeks to create a sense of community among Jews of Colour in Canada. At the same time, she works to establish dialogue with mainstream Jewish organizations and to provide a better understanding of Jewish diversity and the experiences of Jews of Colour.

Her opening remarks focused on what she labeled “the question” – that is, the unwelcoming, uninviting and off-putting line of inquiry Jews of Colour often confront when entering Jewish spaces. Though born and raised in Toronto, Campbell, like other Jews of Colour, is often asked, “Where are you from?” – the implication being that she is not Jewish.

This question, she points out, is alienating from the start and is not the kind of introduction that Jews of Ashkenazi backgrounds ordinarily face when, say, entering a synagogue.

A decisive period for Campbell occurred after getting married and starting a family. At the time, she wanted to introduce her children to their Jewish roots so that they could understand and appreciate every aspect of who they are.

“We leaped into the community with the assumption that I am a Jew and that this should be a non-issue. I am going to go to synagogue, put my kids in Hebrew school and just do stuff. I was wrong. What I didn’t reflect on was that I did not meet the stereotype, if you will, of what a Jew looks like, and it never occurred to me because I am Jewish, what’s the big deal? And I realized that for some people it was.”

The questions and comments would come even before a hello – Are you Jewish? How are you Jewish? But your last name isn’t Jewish.

“If I am a new face, then fine, we should welcome new faces. But the way to welcome new faces is with ‘Shabbat Shalom. My name is So-and-So, what’s your name? Here’s where we keep our siddurim.’ Welcome me first and the rest will flow naturally,” Campbell said.

She referred to these episodes, when she is singled out and her Jewishness is openly questioned, as “microaggressions.”

“Microaggressions are like mosquito bites at a summer camp. You might spray yourself and take other measures to prevent bites. Nothing works, so you spray yourself more and wear long sleeves and still nothing. After many efforts and layers, you finally say, ‘I can’t do this any longer,’ and you remove yourself from the place where the mosquitoes are,” she said.

For Campbell, there also have been more repugnant full-on aggressions, including having the derogatory term “Schvartze” directed at her.

“Would you continue to want to put yourself in that position? I have met and spoken to quite a few Jews of Colour who have said, ‘I am done. I can’t take it anymore.’ They do not want to subject themselves or their children to that kind of treatment. If we say there is no racism in our community, then we are fooling ourselves. All of us should feel they belong,” she said.

Campbell had a very good experience during an extended stay in Israel, where she met Jews from myriad backgrounds. In Israel, she did not feel she had to explain who she was and did not encounter the same questions she is asked in Jewish spaces in Canada. That trip caused her to realize that the Canadian Jewish community could do better and led her to start Jews of Colour Canada.

Things changed dramatically in May 2020 after the murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis, which, to Campbell, symbolized the banality of evil.

“That event made me not give a hoot whether people were comfortable or not with what I say because, until we are all uncomfortable, there won’t be change,” she said. “It really flipped the way I felt about diversity and the work that needs to be done. And that is where we sit today. And I see us as a community doing the work – we are listening and not just hearing what people are saying. You fix your own house first before you fix anyone else’s. And you cannot rest on the laurels of others, such as Martin Luther King Jr. and Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel.”

Campbell is the executive director at Beit Rayim Synagogue in Vaughan, Ont., and a board member of ADRABA, Toronto’s first 21st-century Jewish high school. She also hosts the CJN podcast Rivkush, which focuses on diversity, Israel and other Jewish topics. She is the sole Canadian recipient of the inaugural JewV’Nation Fellowship from the Union for Reform Judaism. For more information, visit jewsofcolour.ca.

The next speaker in Kolot Mayim’s Building Bridges series is, on Feb. 6, poet, author, literary scholar and internationally recognized speaker on transgender issues Joy Ladin on the topic of Jonah, God and Other Strangers: Reading the Torah from a Transgender Perspective. On Feb. 13, Reverend Hazan Daniel Benlolo, cantor, rabbi and founder of the Montreal Shira Choir for special needs adults, presents The Power of Music. To register for either or both talks, visit kolotmayimreformtemple.com.

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

Fostering nature’s care

Richmond Jewish Day School held a week of activities revolving around Tu b’Shevat. (photo from RJDS)

Richmond Jewish Day School held a weeklong event celebrating the holiday of Tu b’Shevat, which fell this year on Jan. 17. Tu b’Shevat has developed into an ecological holiday that reminds us of humanity’s connection to the earth and to our role as caretakers of the environment.

photo - Students assisted in planting several fruit trees in the school garden, sponsored by the Jewish National Fund
Students assisted in planting several fruit trees in the school garden, sponsored by the Jewish National Fund. (photo from RJDS)

On the holiday Monday, each classroom performed a model Tu b’Shevat seder, a meal that partly mirrors the Passover seder and involves eating biblical foods native to the Holy Land and drinking four cups of wine or, in the students’ case, grape juice. Additionally, all of the students assisted in planting several fruit trees in the school garden, sponsored by the Jewish National Fund.

On the Tuesday of that week, students potted succulents from the garden to give away to seniors in the Richmond community. And, in the remainder of the week, classes planted parsley and other herbs for Passover, and assisted in a large-scale, school-wide garden clean-up.

When students are able to see the effort and care needed to grow plants, they develop a sense of ownership for these living organisms. Developing this awareness of how precious nature is can help children become better connected to their environment, learning to be strong community ambassadors and advocates in protecting the planet.

Judaism is not alone in advocating for environmental protection. From Buddhism to Christianity to Hinduism to Islam, various faiths acknowledge the need for environmental stewardship and their scriptures urge followers to be caretakers of the planet, looking after the natural earth and the organisms that live in it.

– Courtesy Richmond Jewish Day School

Sit, stand? It takes all kinds

When it was warmer, back in the fall, I met an older friend outdoors for coffee. A third person was there, someone she wanted me to meet. She couldn’t imagine how I’d never met them before. Winnipeg is like this, small enough so that everyone might have a few connections in common. Big enough that, actually, you don’t know everybody either. As it turned out, my new acquaintance was someone in the Jewish community. By the end of our meeting, I’d learned that she really didn’t like when new melodies were introduced at services. I suggested that it was important to keep learning, that the melodies themselves weren’t what was important. And that, in fact, some of the “new” melodies introduced were pretty old themselves, but just hadn’t been used at the congregation she’d attended.

She wasn’t to be swayed. As we parted, it was clear that I liked the changing tunes and she, most certainly, did not. This exchange came to mind because at the Saturday morning Shabbat service I attended (via streaming only) on Jan. 1, Adon Olam was sung to – snort – the tune of Auld Lang Syne.

All this came to mind, too, as I considered the Jan. 5 anniversary of when I started studying Daf Yomi, a page of Talmud a day. This year, in 2022, I’ll have pursued this endeavour for two years. I’ll be a fourth of the way through the commitment. At a page a day, this process takes seven-and-a-half years. For me, it’s mostly a solitary practice. I study late at night before I go to sleep, and only occasionally learn with others during a special class or siyyum (celebration when finishing an entire tractate).

I read mostly in English translation, only reading the Hebrew and Aramaic in chunks when I’m not too tired or struggling too much with the text. It’s not perfect, but it’s what I’ve got for now. It’s enriched my Jewish learning and practice. Now I find answers for many things I never knew before – the information has always been there, spelled out in the Babylonian Talmud.

For instance, I read in the tractate Megillah, on page 21, about the seemingly arbitrary rules we set up for ourselves – like how many parshiyot (Torah portions) we read, how many people can read each one and when. For the Megillah reading on Purim, we can sit or we can stand, we can hear one person read or several. How does this work?

I flashed back to all the different ways I’d heard the Megillah or even read it through the years, from spiels and Purim carnivals as a kid and onward. I remembered when I read the Megillah to myself in an airport on the floor, on a long layover between flights.

One snowy, cold Purim, crammed into a smaller, overheated, crowded room at Chabad, one of my twins nearly passed out in his polar bear costume. I rushed him through the open fire door, into the hallway, to the emergency stairwell. His colour returned as he cooled down. This, too, was a place to hear the Megillah.

Before my son nearly passed out, I remember that we were sitting near someone who smiled at us, in the integrated seating (men and women sat together) area. He was familiar, part of the community. Only later, it turned out he had a date in court for something that went very wrong. This also is community.

I thought a lot about variations to traditional practice last week as we watched services, streaming, on Shabbat morning. It was a bitterly cold morning in Winnipeg, the kind when the windchill is -45 and you feel remarkably lucky if your car starts. Except, because of COVID, we didn’t have to decide to stay home or go. On Jan. 1, there were only three people in the sanctuary. Two people ran the service, and one person did the streaming.

A service must be adaptable. One person, the cantorial soloist, read the entire Torah portion – a real feat, she did a beautiful job. So, I thought, here we have a tradition with a lot of rules, a lot of “ways things should go,” but also, to keep our traditions strong, we build flexibility.

In Megillah 21a, it says, if it’s the custom to say a blessing before the reading of the Megillah where you are, say a blessing. If not, don’t. Later, it explains, yes, here are the blessings to say and it’s good to say a blessing, but it’s a truly open discussion. Do what works and is usual where you are.

In the midst of the Omicron wave, I hear a lot of random but repeated comments: “in-person schooling is much better” is one. However, safety and avoiding healthcare collapse really must come first, in my view. In our family, during most of the 2021-2022 school year, we did remote schooling. I worked, writing at night. As a former teacher, I was able to help my kids learn and guess what? They came out of it better academically prepared than they were previously. What does this mean? There is no one size fits all. There’s no perfect way to be.

We are all different. Yes, we need to work together, as individuals and communities, to acknowledge this pandemic challenge. We must choose to do everything we can to be as safe as we can: vaccinate, wear high-quality masks like N95s, stay home as much as possible, social distance, self-isolate when sick, etc. But, there isn’t just a single way to take care of a community. That’s what Torah – and the talmudic tractate Megillah 21 – tell us. There isn’t just one way.

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.

It’s been a hard two years

Last summer, given COVID’s continued presence and restrictions, campers were especially happy to be at camp. (photo from Camp Hatikvah)

Prior to 2020, Camp Hatikvah was experiencing unparalleled success. With enrolment maximized, the organization was in the position to focus not only on capital and program development but also on long-term financial planning. According to Liza Rozen-Delman, the camp’s executive director, Hatikvah’s future had never looked brighter. “It was a period of great excitement for us,” she said. “We honestly thought that nothing could get in the way of our growth and success.”

The pandemic, however, changed everything. “The impact of COVID was immediate and devastating,” Rozen-Delman said. “We went from being on top of the world to worrying about our very survival.”

photo - Boys during a service at Camp Hatikvah
(photo from Camp Hatikvah)

Luckily for Hatikvah, donors immediately stepped in to cover the camp’s mounting financial losses. “People knew we were in trouble and they rallied around us,” said Rozen-Delman, with great emotion and gratitude. “Not only did they cover our operational expenses entirely in 2020, they made it possible for us to open in 2021 by funding all of the camp’s COVID-related expenses, like testing, site upgrades and more.”

Rozen-Delman went on to share how incredible it was to welcome campers back to camp last summer. While capacity had to be dramatically reduced to adhere to government group-size limits, close to 400 children participated in Hatikvah’s program in 2021.

“We rearranged our session lengths to make sure that every single Jewish child wishing to attend our camp was able to do so,” explained Rozen-Delman. “While this meant that each camper was at camp for a little less time than is typical, everyone was just so grateful to be there.”

“Our campers are always happy to be at camp but last summer, they were elated,” added Eden Gutterman, the camp’s associate director. “They needed to socialize, to be outdoors and to be away from technology and it was just so beautiful to watch them revel in camp and each other.”

photo - Campers at Camp Hatikva give a thumbs up
(photo from Camp Hatikvah)

Gutterman shared her favourite memory from last summer. “One Shabbat, we asked all of the campers who had their bar and bat mitzvah’s over Zoom to stand in the middle of a circle made up of the rest of the campers and counselors. We then did the hora around them as a tribute to their milestone and accomplishment. None of these campers got to celebrate their simchah in person so it was incredibly touching to see them surrounded and celebrated by their friends. It is something we – and they – will never forget.”

photo - Camper jumps into the water
(photo from Camp Hatikvah)

Camp Hatikvah is now busy preparing for summer 2022.

“We recognize that COVID will likely not be over by summer,” acknowledged Rozen-Delman. “And, while we wish it wasn’t the case, we feel well-prepared to deal with anything.”

Rozen-Delman shared that the Gutman family and Rockdoc Consulting Inc. have provided the funding for the camp to build a new infirmary in time for this summer.

“Given the realities of the ongoing pandemic, this gift couldn’t have come at a better time,” said Rozen-Delman. “Our new infirmary has been designed with COVID and any future infectious disease in mind and will have recovery rooms that can be used as properly ventilated isolation space if necessary. Its functional space has also been thoughtfully designed to allow us to meet and exceed current best practices in camper care. It is a gift our camp so desperately needed and we couldn’t be more grateful to Sam and Belinda and Gloria and their families for their generosity.”

Joanna Wasel, Camp Hatikvah’s board president, commented that, while she wished the world hadn’t had to experience this pandemic at all, she believes that the camp will ultimately be stronger because of it.

“We are entering 2022 with a renewed sense of purpose,” said Wasel. “Our community supported us through this challenging time because they believe in our mandate to help raise the next generation of strong, confident and resilient Jewish leaders. Their faith means everything to us and we are determined to make them proud.”

– Courtesy Camp Hatikvah

There’s no place like Miriam

Judah Altman, left, Daniel Fine and Marina Levy all packed up for the bus. (photo from Camp Miriam)

Returning to Camp Miriam every summer is like going home. The kids shouting and laughing for joy, the bright smiles of the counselors, beautiful Gabriola Island – there’s no other place like Camp Miriam.

My first summer at Miriam was 2013. I’ve returned every summer since, more in love with the place and the people each time. I’ve grown up at Camp Miriam. I’ve grown up with the people; they are some of my best friends. I’ve grown up as a person; I’m always learning about myself and the world in ever-changing new ways. Most importantly, I’ve grown up at Camp Miriam having fun – summers at camp are what I look the most forward to most and I never want them to end.

photo - Left to right are “Visionaries” Daniel Fine, Marina Levy, Judah Altman, Mira Macnair, Kieran Macnair and Mica Hastings
Left to right are “Visionaries” Daniel Fine, Marina Levy, Judah Altman, Mira Macnair, Kieran Macnair and Mica Hastings. (photo from Camp Miriam)

I’ve been a camper, a junior counselor, a counselor and, last summer, a counselor for the leadership training program. Last summer was my favourite summer yet, and I can’t wait for this coming summer. To me, Camp Miriam has always been special for two reasons: the first is the activities, and the second is the people.

This summer, as chinuch (educational director) on our youth-led executive team, or mazkirut, I will be in charge of activities for the entire camp. I could not be more excited. One of the main reasons I continue to return to Camp Miriam is the unique options it provides for campers. There are the classic undertakings – like swimming, soccer, art and music. But then there are the programs that few other summer camps have, such as special days where all camp activities run around a surprise theme, ocean swimming as the sun sets, Jewish learning, and a focus on social justice.

I’m also looking forward to seeing the new and returning campers bond with their cohorts and with their counselors. I know firsthand that Miriam friendships last forever. The people I’ve met at camp will undoubtedly remain my friends for the rest of my life. These are the deepest connections I have.

photo - Judah Altman with friends Meital Smith, left, and Rakeea Chesick Gordis
Judah Altman with friends Meital Smith, left, and Rakeea Chesick Gordis. (photo from Camp Miriam)

After two years of COVID, these connections couldn’t be more important: for counselors like me, and especially for kids. Camp Miriam empowers youth and provides a space for kids to be themselves and to continue to discover who they are. It is a place to make new friends and reaffirm old ones. It is a place to talk for hours on end about all manner of issues, and to play and be silly without fear of judgment. It is a place to learn what true friendship means.

I am excited for the summer because, once again, I will get to meet new campers and counselors and help create the community that is the essence of Camp Miriam. I also can’t wait to see all the familiar faces. I can’t wait to run memorable programming for the kids that will be fun, while also empowering them to grow as people. Camp Miriam is the most important place in the world to me – I feel so fortunate that my parents have given me the opportunity to return summer after summer.

Judah Altman is a student at Columbia University, studying philosophy and sociology. He will be chinuch, or director of education, at Camp Miriam this summer.

Fun and safety during pandemic

In these uncertain times, JCC Camp Shalom set out to continue to be a constant source of fun and a safe environment for the whole community. For the second year, the exceptional circumstances of the COVID-19 pandemic demanded that the camp’s plans be reevaluated and adapted, as it partnered with King David High School to move the majority of its operations to the school’s building for last summer.

Camp Shalom is an inclusive Jewish day camp serving children, youth and teens from ages 3 to 18 years old, year-round, during school breaks and professional development days. Since the inception of the Inclusive Summer Camp Experience program in 2009, more and more children with diverse needs have attended Camp Shalom and participated in group activities, including overnight camping trips.

The number of children with diverse needs who attend Camp Shalom has grown from a handful to more than a dozen per summer – and the range of assistance provided for families has grown as well. Families are able to access more camp sessions and the camp can now support a wider range of ages and needs. Huge improvements have been made in accommodating campers in a true inclusion model and in providing opportunities for more Jewish programming beyond the summer, including Sunday Hebrew schools for those who did not have access to them prior to their experience with Camp Shalom.

photo - Camp Shalom offers an inclusive setting for all ages, abilities
(photo from JCC Camp Shalom)

Thanks to the contributions of the Diamond Foundation and the Snider Foundation, Camp Shalom is able to support more campers and staff with diverse needs by providing special training sessions, mentorship programs and one-on-one support for those campers who need it. Campers who were part of the first inclusive camp experiences are now teenagers and young adults who are still connected to Camp Shalom, and some are now camp staff. This past year’s biggest achievements included engaging about two dozen children, youth and teens with diverse needs and successfully integrating them into the general camp program alongside 120 to 150 other campers in the camp’s preschool, school-age and teen programs.

JCC Camp Shalom likes to think of all youth as being in transition. It pays special attention to campers transitioning from childhood into teenagehood and those teens who are about to become counselors. Work experience is a huge milestone as they enter high school. At camp, they go from being campers to participating in the teen programs, to joining the staff team.

Regardless of their developmental stage and/or maturity level, and taking into consideration their diverse needs, these teens need more support and adaptations than any other group with which the camp works. Careful planning and consideration of their needs has resulted in a successful program that provides them with social and organizational education that will benefit them in the future, as they look for employment, as well as in other areas of their lives.

JCC Camp Shalom is the largest summer Jewish day camp for youth in Vancouver, but its responsibility continues, as the engagement with youth extends beyond summer camp to throughout the year. As teens develop, Camp Shalom recognizes their need for adults with whom they can connect, that they can trust and who can be positive role models. Staff from the summer teen camp programs are educated and qualified to sustain positive and appropriate relationships with youth as they age. The inclusion model of camp programming allows campers with diverse needs to have an unforgettable Jewish experience at Camp Shalom.

For more information about the Inclusive Summer Camp Experience or Camp Shalom’s teen programs, contact Ben Horev, camp director, at 604-813-4236 or [email protected].

– Courtesy JCC Camp Shalom

Back to camp, to being a kid

At summer camp, kids build community, take on challenges, become independent and develop leadership skills. (photo from Camp Solomon Schechter)

There’s a place where kids can simply be themselves. Where they build community, take on challenges, become independent and develop leadership skills. And, through it all, they think it’s just fun and friendships. That’s the magic of summer camp – a healthy dose of nature and nurture.

One year after sleepaway camps across the country were shuttered by the pandemic, many kids packed their shorts and hiking shoes once again, dug out their sleeping bags, and reunited with camp buddies to rekindle fond traditions.

We asked the directors of three Jewish summer camps in Washington state to share their perspective on the role camp plays in the social and emotional health of children, and how it was especially vital in the summer of 2021.

Welcome back to camp

“Welcoming the kids back this summer was extra special,” said Zach Duitch, director at Camp Solomon Schechter in Tumwater. “We could see it in their faces. After being online for a year-and-a-half, they were ready to be outside, with their friends, and having fun.”

Many parents were understandably concerned about sending their kids back to camp this past summer. Attendance numbers dipped somewhat, but families also recognized the value of getting their kids back to outdoor healthy summer fun, Duitch said. Away from everyday social pressures, camp staff works to create an environment that’s a safe place for kids to be their authentic selves.

“Parents trust us with their kids’ safety, security and health – and also with their spiritual and emotional needs. We take that trust incredibly seriously,” said Rabbi Ilana Mills, director at URJ Camp Kalsman in Arlington. “Camp is life-changing in so many ways. It’s an opportunity to grow as a whole person.”

Fun with lasting impact

When kids come home from one, two or three weeks at summer camp, the changes may not be immediately evident. In fact, many campers and counselors only realize as adults how much the experience has shaped them, instilling them early on with courage, compassion and independence. Kids can head off to camp as early as the summer after first grade. Many progress through the years to become counselors, taking on leadership roles as high school and college students, in what many describe as the “best job ever.”

Ask a kid and they’ll say camp is about boating, hiking, arts, sports, cookouts – and the thrill of a high-ropes course. Along with the fun, each camp has its own unique culture with familiar traditions passed down from summer to summer. Camp culture is what ties the community together with singing and celebrations, skits and games. Jewish summer camps also integrate religious observance and community into daily life.

“Camps are these bubbles – their own societies – where kids play a central role,” said Rabbi Kenny Pollack, camp director at Sephardic Adventure Camp in Cle Elum. “Our kids are immersed in the culture of camp, and it helps shape their identity.”

Healthy dose of silliness

When camp directors describe how their programs nurture kids, it can sound pretty serious. But one thing they take extremely seriously is fun.

“At Camp Solomon Schechter we do a lot of ‘shtick.’ Campers love seeing their counselors act silly,” said Duitch, as he explained a beloved trivia game that ends with participants messy and everybody laughing.

Mills described how “we really try to be as outside the box as possible. We push our counselors to teach their passion, be creative and try new things.”

She even got a chance to join the fun, playing a zombie during the culmination of their outdoor survival unit at URJ Camp Kalsman.

Leave real world behind

Kids leave their parents and their digital devices at home when they arrive at camp. There may be homesickness at first but soon their days are consumed by activities and friendships. And, since more and more camps are going device-free, campers get a break from their screens.

“Camp is a place where kids get to be their authentic selves,” said Pollack.

Each summer, as kids are reconnecting with old friends and making new ones, they’re also connecting across borders. Increasingly, camps are bringing counselors from international locations to supplement the programming with games and traditions from their home countries.

“As much as kids love their parents, camp is a great opportunity for them to learn from other role models,” said Duitch, explaining how the camp experience broadens kids’ viewpoints and connects them to lifelong friends.

Many parents, kids and camp staffers found it heartbreaking to cancel camp in 2020. That’s why camps throughout Washington banded together, lobbying the state government to make sure that camp happened in 2021 and that it would be a safe and extra-memorable summer. In the end, it may be difficult to measure the social and emotional impact of returning to camp after a trying year. But parents could no doubt see it in the hugs, the joy and the happy exhaustion as they picked their kids up at the end of camp this past year.

This article, courtesy Camp Solomon Schechter, comes from the Samis Foundation, which was established in 1994 by Samuel Israel, z”l, and is the largest Jewish philanthropy in Washington state. Grantmaking is focused on the foundation’s mission of supporting local Jewish education and initiatives in Israel. Samis is honoured to support the three Jewish overnight camps located in Washington state, working to keep Jewish children and teens engaged in their culture, religion and communities.

Summer of a lifetime awaits

Camp Kalsman has almost 300 acres, perfect for a wide range of activities. (photo from Camp Kalsman)

Rabbi Ilana Mills, director of URJ Camp Kalsman, started attending camp when she was 8 years old. “I remember being uncertain what the experience would be like, trying to picture how it would feel to live in a bunk. It was greater than I ever imagined,” she said.

“Jewish camping helped me learn more about myself and my Jewish identity,” she added. “I learned independence that served me my whole life and what it means to be part of a community. I have experienced the powerful impact camp can have on someone’s life and now get to watch my children experience it as well.”

photo - Campers gather together
(photo from Camp Kalsman)

Camp Kalsman knows kids need places to be celebrated for who they are and places that help them grow. Camp Kalsman is one of those places – where a child can feel comfortable being their true self and learn independence while they climb the tower, play pool volleyball, and tie-dye.

Located in Washington, the camp has almost 300 acres, perfect for a wide range of activities: arts, sports, team-building, hiking, high ropes, guitar, and so much more. Each camper can explore all aspects of camp and participate in various programs, while exploring and gaining pride in their Jewish identity. Camp isn’t just a fun thing for kids to do when they’re out of school. Studies have shown that camp is one of the most powerful tools in a parenting toolbox for successfully launching an adult.

Discover new passions

Camp Kalsman strives to make every camper’s experience nurturing and fulfilling, and does so by making sure that every child feels welcomed and supported, while challenging themselves. Campers engage in activities and programs, develop lifelong friendships and live with a super staff. Jewish values infuse everything the camp does and, each year, new and returning staff members bring unique chugim, activities, based on their passions, so there are always more options being added to an already long list.

Arts: painting, ceramics, improv/drama, guitar, song writing/leading, digital media, Kalsman musical, photography, dance, cooking.

photo - Camp Kalsman ropes course
(photo from Camp Kalsman)

Sports: balloon volleyball, giant soccer, archery, Gaga, tetherball, ultimate frisbee, basketball, softball/kickball, Kalsman football (extra special/silly combination of sports).

Waterfront: pirate ball on the lake, cardboard box boat-making, mermaid contest, water polo, canoeing, kayaking, pool volleyball, pool basketball.

Teva (Nature): hiking, outdoor cooking, outdoor survival skills, wilderness first aid, gardening, animal care.

Ropes: high ropes obstacle course, tower, giant swing, zipline, low ropes team-building.

Unit programs: Israeli cooking, ice cream pool party, messy night, scavenger hunt, and so much more.

Shabbat shalom

Everyone can feel the magic that falls over Camp Kalsman every Shabbat. The entire camp community changes into white clothes and cleans up after a very busy week. The camp joins together in a Shabbat walk that ends at the outdoor beit tefilah (sanctuary). There are interactive services, a traditional Shabbat dinner in the dining hall, with challah and grape juice, and the night ends with Shabbat Shira (song session), where campers and staff alike can dance and sing the night away.

Since it is still Shabbat, Saturdays also look a bit different at camp. There is chofesh, free time, where campers can choose activities more freely and for longer amounts of time than during the full schedule of the rest of the week. They can focus on finishing their art project, challenge themselves on a different path on the high ropes course, or even chill on the quad with friends and really rest and reset for the days ahead.

– Courtesy Camp Kalsman

It’s that time of year

Tu b’Shevat is a popular day to go into the fields and plant saplings. (photo from usa.jnf.org)

‘In Israel, just before the Hebrew month of Shevat, the landscape begins to change. It has been winter; the fruit trees bare, their leafless, light grey branches silhouetted against dark clouds. Then, as Shevat is ushered in, they begin to bud, and reddish leaflets burst forth. Fields that have been covered with pale crocuses, white narcissus and cyclamens give way to red anemones, tulips and broom bushes starred with flowers. And the almond trees burst into blossom – the first harbinger of spring. It is at this time we celebrate Tu b’Shevat, the 15th of Shevat, which is known as the New Year of the Trees.

Tu b’Shevat, which falls this year on Jan. 17, is mentioned in the Mishnah as one of the four “natural” new years. The first of Nisan is the “new year for Jewish kings and seasonal feasts”: that is, for calculating the reigns of Israelite kings and determining the cycle of calendar festivals. The first of Elul is the new year “for tithing cattle” and the first of Tishri is the new year for calculating septennial cycles and 50-year jubilees.

The new year for the trees was moved from the first of Shevat to the 15th in accordance with the opinion of Rabbi Hillel (30 BCE – 10 CE), for it is then that the sap begins to rise with the full moon, in Israel’s fruit trees. The Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmuds also designate Tu b’Shevat as the date to calculate taxes on fruit: “You shall tithe all the yield of your seed, which comes forth from the field year by year.” (Deuteronomy 14:22)

During the days of winter, Israel’s fruit trees are dormant. It is wet and cold and, because of the low temperatures, the trees cannot absorb the nutrients from the soil. But, regarding the 15th of Shevat: “Till this day [the trees] live off the water of the past year; from this day on, they live off the water of this year.” (Jerusalem Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 1.2)

This date is the start of the fruit’s formation. Arabs also mark it, calling it “the second ember,” when fruit trees begin to absorb water. According to Arab folklore, there are three “embers,” which began as fire falling from the sky and changed to caterpillars. The first falls from the sky when the earth begins to warm up; the second when the warmth spreads. They follow this with a third “ember,” as summer begins.

Tu b’Shevat is one of Judaism’s popular celebrations that does not involve special synagogue services. It is a day when it is customary to eat the fruits of Israel: apples, almonds, carobs, figs, nuts and pomegranates. Many scholars stay up late on the eve of the holiday, reciting biblical passages dealing with fruits or the earth’s fertility. They read from Genesis how trees were created along with all the plants of the earth; from Leviticus, the Divine promise of abundance as a reward for keeping the commandments; and from Ezekiel 17, the parable of the spreading vine, symbolizing the people of Israel.

Kabbalists hold a special seder for Tu b’Shevat and they celebrate, not so much the new year of the trees, but the New Year of the Tree, meaning the Tree of Life, which is rich with mystical connotations. At the seder, they drink four cups of wine, beginning with white wine and ending with red, with the second cup a mixture more of white and the third more of red wine. It is rather like how the landscape changes from white (the pale narcissus and crocus) to red (anemones and tulips) as Tu b’Shevat approaches.

Tu b’Shevat is a popular day to go into the fields and plant saplings. Over the last several decades, Israeli schoolchildren have helped Keren Kayemeth, the Jewish National Fund, plant 130 million trees, many of them on Tu b’Shevat, and these evergreens have become the backbone of the reforestation program.

Tu b’Shevat affirms that the soil of Israel is holy. And the New Year of the Trees reminds us annually of the wonder of God’s creation.

Dvora Waysman is a Jerusalem-based author. She has written 14 books, including The Pomegranate Pendant, which was made into a movie, and her latest novella, Searching for Sarah. She can be contacted at [email protected].