resilience

Jewish students staying strong

Since Oct. 7, 2023, antisemitism and intimidation have been rife on campuses, including the University of British Columbia, where there have been numerous incidents of graffiti and personal attacks on the university’s president, among others. (photo from Hillel BC)

Jewish university students and their allies are reflecting on a challenging year at British Columbia’s postsecondary institutions. Activists continue to make life difficult – but leaders at the campus organization Hillel BC are emphasizing the resilience of students and the unity of the community.

The first full academic year since the Oct. 7 terror attacks and the ensuing war wrapped up recently. In some ways, it was less chaotic than the previous year, but more intense, according to Ohad Gavrieli, executive director of Hillel BC.

“If we could summarize this year,” Gavrieli said, “it would be that there were fewer fires but they blazed with greater intensity.”

Last year, campuses across North America, including at the University of British Columbia, the University of Victoria and Vancouver Island University, were occupied by anti-Israel protest encampments.

“Last summer, the encampment occupied the campus, literally and figuratively, for months, demanding responses and counter-narratives that detracted from our primary work,” said Gavrieli.

Those disruptions ended before the new academic year, but 2024-’25 began with a flurry of hostility from anti-Israel activists. UBC’s main Point Grey campus seems to be the locus of the activism, with other campuses showing similar but reduced agitation commensurate with their size, he said.

At UBC, the activists’ scattershot tactics have been honed into more targeted protests, boycotts and campaigns, he said. At the same time, Hillel, Jewish students and a significant group of allies are more prepared than they were when the explosion of anti-Israel – and often overtly antisemitic – activism roiled campuses beginning in October 2023.

The 2024-’25 school year opened with vandalism, including a pig’s head being mounted on a gate near the home of the university’s president in a protest that apparently targeted the RCMP, Israel and the UBC administration. The head was accompanied by a sign reading “Pigs off campus.” The incident, for which anti-Israel activists took credit online, was an apparent reference to the surname of UBC’s president, Benoit-Antoine Bacon, but, in online discourse, Israelis, Zionists and Jews are often depicted as pigs.

The UBC campus, and others, were swathed in anti-Israel graffiti as students returned to school last September.

photo - Anti-Israel activists have targeted UBC’s president Benoit-Antoine Bacon in various ways — Anti-Israel activists have targeted UBC’s president Benoit-Antoine Bacon in various ways. *(photo courtesy Hillel BC)*

In October, a conference featuring an Israeli archeologist had to be relocated from UBC’s Green College after the facility’s windows were smashed and hateful messages were spray-painted on the building during the night before the scheduled event.

In November, a coordinated “Strike for Palestine” was organized, including an occupation of UBC’s Global Lounge, the office where students access international academic exchanges. Anti-Israel groups also gathered outside the Buchanan Building, the main arts complex, demanding UBC’s financial divestment from Israel.

In December and January, the campus was blanketed with posters accusing UBC’s board of governors of supporting genocide. Graffiti and harassment continued, with some students reporting they no longer felt safe in class.

In February and March, UBC saw a student referendum campaign calling for divestment from Israel. This was followed by another “Student Strike for Palestine.”

When Vancouver and Whistler, including UBC, hosted the Invictus Games, an international adaptive sports competition for wounded, injured and sick military personnel and veterans, protesters homed in on the presence of Israeli soldiers and veterans, causing disruptions and engaging in further extensive vandalism.

As the school year ended, convocation ceremonies were targeted, with protesters and some graduates wearing keffiyehs or other symbols and carrying or unfurling signs, disrupting numerous graduation events throughout the province.

Despite these and many more challenges, Gavrieli said, Hillel continued to serve as a refuge of safety, belonging and Jewish pride.

“We continued to host weekly Shabbat dinners, hot lunches and holiday celebrations across our campuses, including new programming at UBC Okanagan and Thompson Rivers University,” he said.

The campus organization has seen significantly increased interest in their programs and expanded involvement over the past two academic terms, as students, faculty and staff converged on Hillel for emotional and practical support. These programs include significantly enhanced mental health services, said Gavrieli, as well as building organizational capacity empowering students to advocate for themselves and their community.

The achievements of Jewish students and their allies were marked at a Night of Resilience, held at Hillel UBC on March 27.

Looking back at the year past, Gavrieli emphasized the high points, especially the strength of Jewish students who have “risen with courage, dignity and pride.” He also cited continuing healthy dialogue with university administrators and other stakeholders, though he expressed the wish that university leadership were more vocal in condemning hate-motivated language and acts, and addressing abuse of podium. Many professors and teaching assistants have pressed their personal political opinions on students, Gavrieli said, including instances in which the subject matter was not remotely related to the instructors’ disciplines.

Relations with campus security and the respective police services have been universally positive and constructive.

“We have received nothing short of exemplary cooperation from all areas of security and policing,” Gavrieli said.

Other achievements include a “We Are Here” toolkit, an online resource that helps students file formal complaints and access support. This technological response systematized reporting procedures to make intelligence gathering more effective and to ensure easy and immediate access for students needing supports.

Hillel staff successfully assisted several students in navigating institutional processes, according to Gavrieli, including challenging biased grading. They condemned the disruption of academic spaces, voiced concerns to the administration and stood with students who felt abandoned.

Gavrieli expressed gratitude to individual and organizational allies in the Jewish community, who have ensured that the campus organization has the resources it needs to respond as best as they can to the situations arising on campuses province-wide.

Roman Chelyuk is one of a small but increasingly visible group of non-Jewish allies who have coalesced around Hillel in recent years. Growing up in Ukraine, Chelyuk had Jewish peers and family friends, and has traveled twice to Israel. He was supposed to travel there again last month with the Canadian Jewish Political Affairs Committee but the conflict canceled that mission.

photo - Roman Chelyuk was one of the non-Jewish allies honoured at the event Night of Resilience, held at Hillel UBC on March 27. He is pictured here with Ishmaeli Goldstein, Hillel’s campus advocacy specialist — Roman Chelyuk was one of the non-Jewish allies honoured at the event Night of Resilience, held at Hillel UBC on March 27. He is pictured here with Ishmaeli Goldstein, Hillel’s campus advocacy specialist. (photo courtesy Hillel BC)

He first connected with Hillel when the Ukrainian students’ club did a joint program with the Jewish students and he hung around, partly motivated by the isolation he was seeing among his new Jewish friends.

Chelyuk, who just graduated in international relations, was treasurer and, for a time, interim president of the Israel on Campus club.

One of the clearest signs he sees of the changed situation on campus is that Jewish students are challenged in making connections with other affinity and interest groups like the one through which he was first introduced to Hillel. Joint initiatives with other student clubs have largely dried up.

“That was easy to organize before Oct. 7 and it was not after,” he said. “It’s generally heartbreaking.”

Sara Sontz, who expects to graduate next spring in sociology, was president of UBC’s Jewish Students’ Association this past year.

“It’s definitely still been challenging,” she said, citing protests on campus, professors derailing topics by discussing the Israel-Hamas conflict when it is unrelated to the discipline, even singling out students with Jewish names and asking for their opinions on current events.

“I find it really frustrating because students are there to learn on a specific topic for their degree and it’s frustrating when Jewish students are then forced to almost hide their identities because they don’t want to be called on or put into an awkward position within the class,” she said.

“We haven’t let all the hate and all the protests affect how strong we feel about ourselves and our community. I think that’s the most important thing.”
– Sara Sontz

“I’ve always been open about my Jewish identity,” said Sontz, “but, after Oct. 7, I and many other Jewish students stopped wearing our Magen David necklaces or, for some, they stopped feeling comfortable even going to class – and some stopped going to class – just because of the safety concerns and the emotional discomfort.”

There are silver linings, Sontz said.

“I always try to look for the bright side,” she said. “The one thing I found is that the community got stronger after Oct. 7, due to the necessity of having to have a unified front, to have a community to go to when you have such difficult problems and having your fellow Jewish students, or Hillel and Chabad on campus, really provided that safe space.”

She hopes for better things in the new academic year, though her optimism has limits.

“It’s constant,” she said. “It’s never-ending.… But we haven’t lost hope. We are a really strong community.… We haven’t let all the hate and all the protests affect how strong we feel about ourselves and our community. I think that’s the most important thing.”

An uplifting moment

Vancouver hosted the largest convention in the city’s history over the weekend. About 50,000 members of Alcoholics Anonymous descended on the convention centre and BC Place stadium. Among the throngs was a booth representing Jewish Addiction Community Services – JACS Vancouver.

Rabbi Joshua Corber, the organization’s recently appointed director of addictions and mental health services, wanted the group to have a presence at the massive international confab. The booth shared information about JACS’s work, as well as literature from partner agencies in other cities.

For Elana Epstein, who attended the booth and greeted passersby, the experience was transformative – but not for the reasons she expected.

Epstein and her family have shared their journey with addiction and recovery openly, including in these pages (jewishindependent.ca/family-hopes-to-save-lives). She and husband David Bogdonov and their son Noah Bogdonov have become some of the most familiar faces in this community speaking about and advocating for awareness around addiction and recovery.

At a public event at King David High School last fall, the family shared the path they have been on since Noah began his recovery journey two years ago. The entire family has become engaged with this cause. Noah and Elana have both become professionals in the field – Noah recently moved to Calgary to launch a new recovery centre and Elana was credentialized and recently hired to lead JACS’s new family group, which began earlier this week.

But it was not recovery – or, at least, not recovery in the sense she anticipated – that uplifted her at the AA convention. It was the outpouring of empathy and words of encouragement she received from passersby to her as a Jew, and to the Jewish community more broadly.

A steady stream of people dropped by to peruse the information at the booth, but Epstein was deeply moved by the number who just expressed a few words of support for the situation Jewish people find themselves facing in today’s world.

This sort of acknowledgement is something that has been glaringly absent among her non-Jewish circles in Vancouver, she said.

“I personally needed it,” she said. “I haven’t felt that kind of outreach since the war started.” In one of her local circles, her experience has been quite the opposite.

Since Oct. 7, 2023, at the latest, most Jews have probably, consciously or unconsciously, at different times and in different spheres, become aware of dangers and vulnerabilities when we identify ourselves in public. Any reservations Epstein had quickly evaporated, leaving her “completely surprised.”

“Tears,” she said of her response. “Overwhelming gratitude. I really didn’t expect this and it is a beautiful thing. A really beautiful, heartfelt thing.”

There were other surprises – a lot of non-Jews subscribed to stereotypes that addiction did not exist in the Jewish community. For Epstein, though, it was the few words from a stream of strangers that raised her spirits.

Why did it take strangers from other cities to say the words she needed to hear? Maybe it is easier to speak with people you don’t know. By putting herself out there as a visible Jew in a primarily non-Jewish environment, she attracted the goodwill of people who wanted to share expressions of kindness. Are people who deal in addiction and recovery more sensitive to the pain of others? Is there some other explanation?

We would like to imagine this was an indication that the world is kinder than some recent evidence would suggest.

For one thing, there is a simple phenomenon: haters are loud. The chanters who march through the streets condemning Israel (and often Jews) are few but extremely vocal. Their stickers, spray-paint and graffiti might suggest numbers greater than they represent.

Empathy is quiet. Seeing a Jewish individual standing invitingly at a booth presents an opportunity for a few quiet words that maybe some people have been waiting to express.

It may be rare enough that it bears highlighting. It is still, though, a reminder that compassion abounds, often in places we least expect it. This is a small example – and just one – that modest acts of kindness have profound ripples.

As we enjoy the full bloom of summer, with its (hopefully) bright days and reinvigorating outdoor activities, we thought it was worth sharing that the world can be a more welcoming place than it sometimes seems.

We naturally share with friends our moments of disappointment and distress, seeking commiseration when the world lets us down. Remember also to share your moments of uplift, as this one individual chose to do. We need them.

Adaptability important

Canada’s westernmost Reform rabbis, Dan Moskovitz of Vancouver’s Temple Sholom, and Lynn Greenhough of Victoria’s Kolot Mayim, sat down for a discussion (and celebration) of the resilience of the Jewish people during a Zoom webinar on Feb. 2.

Greenhough, who posed questions to Moskovitz for an event that was part of Kolot Mayim Reform Temple’s 2024/25 Kvell at the Well series, described him in her introduction as a “one-man advertisement for Jewish resilience.”

photo - Rabbi Dan Moskovitz of Temple Sholom was the most recent speaker in Kolot Mayim Reform Temple’s Kvell at the Well Zoom series — Rabbi Dan Moskovitz of Temple Sholom was the most recent speaker in Kolot Mayim Reform Temple’s Kvell at the Well Zoom series. *(photo from rabbidanmoskovitz.com)*

Moskovitz began by bringing historical context to the topic, noting that the sages would often say that new questions and problems are the reframing of events that have happened in the past.

“Sadly, we have a history that can take us back to times of trial and challenge just as easily as it could to triumph,” said Moskovitz. “So, part of it is that we’ve seen this before and we’re still here. That is, I think, a key to our resilience.”

Another element to resiliency is adaptability, he said. Here, the senior rabbi at Temple Sholom cited a section of the Talmud that debates whether it is better to be a cedar tree or a reed.

“The rabbis conclude it’s better to be a reed than a cedar. While we can stand firm at some point, a strong enough wind from just the right angle will topple us over [if we are a cedar],” Moskovitz said. “But the reed can adjust. And that’s how we dealt with the destruction of the First and the Second Temple.”

Judaism, he continued, has maintained a fluidity that allows it to be open to new ways to grapple with present-day issues like identity, the role of women and modern concepts of morality, discarding past practices that might be distasteful today.

“I think that important to our resilience has been our ability to change,” he said. “When groups or religions don’t change, their survival becomes precarious.”

Judaism’s resilience, too, can be attributed to its portability; namely, texts were printed and studied. Further, discussions, such as those occurring in the Talmud – which Moskovitz described as the “original Wikipedia” – could be had not just in one place in time but across time, to create an “ongoing dialogue.”

“I think about Pesach and the printed Haggadah, but also the technology, if we can call it that, of the socialization of the story, that coming together every year to retell our story, as opposed to telling it and forgetting it,” he said. “What Pesach does is remind us of the story of redemption, remind us of our role, Moses’s role, God’s role, the role of miracles, and to reinterpret that through the lens of our modern experience, to see the pharaohs of our time.”

A recent illustration of Judaism’s ability to adapt, he said, occurred during the pandemic, as events and services shifted to Zoom. Most of Temple Sholom’s minyan services are still held online, as they have proved a valuable means for congregants to connect in a meaningful way.

Change and innovation, Moskovitz argued, are always going to happen, and it has been to Judaism’s advantage to move forward, to progress, and not shelter itself from the outside world. One such step practised by Reform Judaism, for example, is to use transliteration and English translations of the Hebrew text in prayer books, making the prayers and other material accessible to a wider range of people.

Later in his talk, Moskovitz referenced how times of crises and discrimination have empowered Jews to create their own institutions.

“I think that we have to have a deep appreciation for the resourcefulness of the generations that came before us,” he said. “Most of the institutions that we have been raised in were built by a generation of Jews who were excluded from general society.”

To the question of the post-Oct. 7 world in which university campuses and other spaces have become hotbeds of vitriol against Jews, Moskovitz stressed that flexibility and adaptability do not mean capitulation.

“If there are places that we have been and rightfully should still be and want to be, then we do have to stand our ground there,” he said. “We do have to insist and we do have to call out the hypocrisy of certain things or the blatant discrimination.”

Crucial in this pursuit, said Moskovitz, is to find allies. He told the Zoom audience that Jews will not defeat antisemitism, but non-Jews will.

“We can’t separate ourselves from the community,” he said. “While we could use our money to pull out of places like Harvard, we should absolutely stay at the boardroom table as long as they will have us. If not, then go to whatever audience will receive our message of why we were kicked out of that place, and stay in for the argument and the fight.

“I think that we shouldn’t abandon these institutions and say, I’m not going to send my kid there anymore because it’s antisemitic. It will only become more antisemitic if we stop sending our kids.”

Jonathan Bergwerk, author of the Audacious Jewish Lives books, is the next speaker in the Kolot Mayim Kvell at the Well series. On March 2, at 11 a.m., he will discuss Jewish innovators who have changed the world. Visit kolotmayimreformtemple.com to register.

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

Coffee and sympathy

In Startup Nation, Dan Senor and Saul Singer’s 2009 book about Israel’s successes in innovation and entrepreneurship, the authors credit the hothouse environment created by the country’s many challenges not as a barrier but as a catapult to its accomplishments.

For example, mandatory military service, made necessary by Israel’s tough neighbourhood, has helped cultivate leadership, teamwork, technical skills and adaptability under pressure. Put simply, young people who have made life-and-death decisions for themselves and their unit while still in their teens may be less daunted than other people when confronted with the risks required to succeed in business or other life challenges.

In what may be an unanticipated twist on this resilience and adaptability, a chain of cafés has emerged in Israel with a very specific clientele. Restaurateur Tamir Barelko launched Café Otef, a chain with two outlets and plans for more. Otef refers to the Gaza “envelope” area where the Oct. 7 invasion took place.

A Jewish Telegraphic Agency article last week on the coffee shops tells the story of Israelis’ sometimes unconventional approaches to resilience and recovery.

The cafés, staffed entirely by survivors of the Oct. 7, 2023, attacks on southern kibbutzim, feature products from affected communities: cheeses from Kibbutz Be’eri, honey from Kibbutz Erez and other foods and products, like T-shirts, aprons and water bottles, sourced from entrepreneurs affected by the tragedy.

The first such storefront, Café Otef-Re’im, named after the kibbutz adjacent to the Nova festival site and where seven residents were murdered and four taken hostage, is owned and run by Reut Karp. Her former husband, Dvir Karp, was murdered in front of their three children. Dvir was a chocolatier and his recipes are enjoyed by café customers.

Karp and other staff credit the cafés with getting them out of bed in the mornings. One displaced kibbutznik who experienced culture shock in Tel Aviv finds the clientele can appreciate his dark humour in ways locals cannot.

Karp emphasizes that the café’s association with the tragedy is not a “gimmick.” While Tel Aviv is sometimes derided as a “bubble” removed from the realities faced by Israelis in other parts of the country, the central location, she explains, is a benefit that allows displaced residents from the country’s north and south to meet and share experiences.

Comfortable Canadians can hardly imagine either the inescapable grief of Israelis directly affected by Oct. 7 or the daily challenges of living with the memories. Enjoying coffee and chocolate in an environment explicitly created for working through the pain of that day and its aftermath might seem counterintuitive to those who have never experienced anything remotely similar. It may be a distinctly Israeli response to face the realities head-on.

At the same time, Karp acknowledges that her café does not push the tragedy in customers’ faces. One could drop in, stay awhile and leave without ever knowing the motive behind the place. One unavoidable sign, however, is a work of art made up of text messages sent on the tragic day.

Two new cafés are planned for the near future, including Café Otef-Sderot, named for the southern town that has always been on the frontline of Gaza rockets, and Café Otef-Kiryat Shmona, honouring evacuees from the northern town, which is in the Vancouver Jewish community’s partnership region. Barelko, the café’s founder, aims to recruit wounded soldiers from the ongoing war as the chain expands.

Canadian Jews, like Jews worldwide, are confronting a changed environment. Having the good fortune of comparative comfort for generations, we have not had to develop the mechanisms for coping with disasters like our Israeli cousins have been forced to cultivate. Of course, history has always presented Jews with challenges and Israelis, we might say, are a concentrated embodiment of Jewish resilience and constructive response to challenges. Café Otef is one small example of that response and an example for others facing challenges. As we conclude 2024, a year of continuing tests for our people, we should take a moment of reflection and pride in how we have adapted and responded since Oct. 7, 2023.

Many Canadian Jews feel overwhelmed and struggle to find positivity in the current moment. This is completely understandable. Nevertheless, our community has responded to changed circumstances with determination and toughness. This should be a source of immense pride. We should also focus on the extraordinary strength of Israelis as a model for facing our own difficult moments. The potent unity of Jews worldwide in the past year is a testament to kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh, all Jews are responsible for one another. The solidarity showed by diaspora communities has inspired and strengthened Israelis. We should not miss the opportunity to be inspired by their resolve as we confront on own very different but related troubles.

Evening of resilience, hope

In Vancouver, on the evening of Nov. 10, the Canadian Shaare Zedek Hospital Foundation will present Voices of Resilience, featuring Prof. Ofer Merin, director general of Shaare Zedek Medical Centre, and Glenn Cohen, former Mossad psychologist and hostage negotiator. Part of a national tour, the event aims to shed light on the experiences and insights following the tragic events of Oct. 7, 2023.

photo - Prof. Ofer Merin, director general of Shaare Zedek Medical Centre — Prof. Ofer Merin, director general of Shaare Zedek Medical Centre. *(photo from CSZHF)*

Merin completed his fellowship in adult cardiac surgery at Sunnybrook Hospital in Toronto. Upon returning to Israel, he became a pivotal member of the Shaare Zedek team, where he now serves as director general. A colonel in the Israel Defence Forces, Merin has led numerous humanitarian efforts and, as of Oct. 7, 2023, has headed a medical intelligence committee that plays a role in assessing the hostage situation in Gaza.

photo - Glenn Cohen, former Mossad psychologist and hostage negotiator — Glenn Cohen, former Mossad psychologist and hostage negotiator. *(photo from CSZHF)*

Cohen has served as an air force pilot, Mossad officer, hostage negotiator and special forces psychologist for more than 30 years. Retiring with the rank of colonel and chief of psychology in Mossad, he now trains organizations worldwide using a methodology he developed. During the war that followed Oct. 7, Cohen has served more than 100 days to date in reserve duty, providing critical debriefing for the released hostages.

All proceeds from Voices of Resilience will go to the Healing Minds Campaign, which focuses on extending the mental health support available at Shaare Zedek Medical Centre. This initiative provides specialized training in therapy, post-traumatic stress disorder counseling, psychotherapy and other services for those affected by the Oct. 7 attacks. The centre hopes to increase their mental health team from 14 to 42 professionals to meet the overwhelming demand, an increase that would require $1.6 million Cdn for medical and para-medical training, as well as ongoing staffing costs.

To date, Shaare Zedek has treated more than 700 individuals, primarily IDF soldiers, with injuries ranging from minor to life-threatening. Nearly every patient presents signs of mental trauma, whether immediately or in the weeks following hospitalization. Many young patients have been exposed to traumatic battlefield conditions and the loss of life. Even those who initially report limited emotional impact often show symptoms later. To address this, Shaare Zedek has created a comprehensive emotional trauma care service. Every patient admitted for war-related injuries is evaluated by the psychiatry team, they are monitored throughout their stay and receive counseling prior to discharge, with follow-up care recommendations.

To attend Voices of Resilience in Vancouver on Nov. 10, 7 p.m., visit linktr.ee/voicesofresilience2024. Tickets are $18 ($72 for the VIP meet-and-greet). The location will be provided to registrants closer to the event date.

– Courtesy Canadian Shaare Zedek Hospital Foundation

Oct. 7 heroes support Team Israel-Premier Tech

Oct. 7 survivors Sharon Shabo, left, and Avida Bachar lead Team Israel-Premier Tech riders in the team’s final training session before the Tour de France started on June 29 in Florence, Italy. (photo by Noa Arnon)

Three injured heroes from the Oct. 7 Hamas terror attacks came to support Team Israel-Premier Tech at the Tour de France. As well, they held signs bearing the names of hostages, some of whom are their close friends, and called for their release. Alongside them stood Israel-Premier Tech owners Sylvan Adams and Ron Baron.

“My friends from the kibbutz are suffering there. We can’t wait another moment,” said Avida Bachar. He lost his son and wife, who were murdered in their shelter in Be’eri on the morning of Oct. 7, while he himself was severely injured and lost his leg. Despite adapting to his prosthetic, Bachar insisted on riding his bike for the first time since his injury to lead the Israeli team in their final training session. “It was an immense moment, one of the most emotional of my life,” he said.

Joining Bachar was his good friend Sharon Shabo, who was seriously injured in a Hamas ambush on the morning of Oct. 7 while riding his bike, and 20-year-old Oded Gelbstein, a young combat engineer soldier who was critically wounded in Gaza and is currently undergoing rehabilitation in Florence.

“Avida and Sharon will be our great inspiration at the Tour de France,” said Adams to the team riders before the race started.

The Tour de France lasts three weeks, during which the riders cycle more than 3,400 kilometres. Twenty-two teams are taking part in the 21-stage race, which culminates in Nice, France, on July 21.

– Courtesy Team Israel-Premier Tech

Selina Robinson’s full speech – rally for Israeli hostages March 17/24

My friends,

I am sorry that I could not join you in person for safety reasons, but I thank the organizers for sharing a few words on my behalf.

My heart has been with all of you these past five months. I join you in seeking release of the hostages now. I join you in seeking peace – peace for the Palestinians – peace for Israelis – peace for us all.

I am told the theme for this week is resilience and so I have spent the last few days reflecting on my own resilience – as the lone voice in government speaking up for the Jewish community and how difficult it had become while others remained silent. I also focused on how much more difficult it became after I was forced to resign, feeling punished for speaking up about Jew-hatred.

I reflected on where the strength, the koach came from to persist, when it would have been so much easier to be silent, to fade into the background, to go along with the others and to pretend that everything was okay.

So, from where do I draw the strength?

It comes from different places:

A husband outraged that his wife is poorly treated by her colleagues, forced from a role she loves and who now keeps a baseball bat in the bedroom because others are threatening her life.
A son who stopped going to his gym shortly after the massacre on Oct. 7 because the Port Moody gym owner and city councillor decided that putting up a large Palestinian flag in her gym demonstrating to the world that she suddenly cares so deeply about a complex geopolitical conflict thousands of miles away is more important than the hurt this causes friends, colleagues, and customers.
A daughter who now must find significant financial resources to make sure the Jewish children in her care are safe this summer.

My strength has also come from:

The two Jewish professional women who, as a requirement of their jobs, came to hear the Throne Speech at the Legislature in February. They were forced to find a safe route into the building as there were dozens of protesters aggressively calling for a unilateral ceasefire and the destruction of Jews.
The physicians who refuse to train Jew-hating UBC medical students.
The teachers who organize to push back on the Jew-hatred we are seeing in the [BC Teachers’ Federation].
The people working in the public service who are telling their stories of intimidation like being told that their Jewish star necklace is a symbol of genocide.

Resilience for me comes from the countless stories from people who talk about being fearful at work, from Holocaust survivors who say, “It’s happening again.”

Resilience comes from Jewish community leaders and volunteers who are doing everything they can to keep programs running, to push government to do the right thing, to care for their congregants who are scared and worried, and who lead by example.

Resilience comes from the emails and letters from hundreds of people, Jewish and non-Jewish alike, who remind me that even though I felt alone in my caucus and in government, I was not alone. I am not alone. We are not alone. Many were seeing what I was seeing, what we are seeing and are prepared to stand up to Jew-hatred.

Resilience comes from reaching out to others who are hurting too and finding out that they want to help heal our wounds together.

Resilience comes from seeing the Oct. 7 survivors of rape and torture pick up the pieces of their lives. It comes from seeing Israelis gather once again to protest their government. It comes from so many of you who have reached out with words of support, encouragement, and love.

Resilience comes from us gathering our collective strength as we lift each other up and remind ourselves that we are not alone – that together we will find the strength – the strength to bring peace.

United in grief and resilience

Bassem Eid, right, addresses those who gathered Feb. 4 for the event United, as fellow speakers Virág Gulyás, left, and Yuval David listen. (photo by Pat Johnson)

Yuval David knew 32 people who were murdered on Oct. 7. Among them were 10 friends who gathered to celebrate a birthday and headed to the Nova music festival.

“All 10 …” he said, struggling to maintain his composure. “Not one made it out of that celebration.”

David was speaking Sunday night at United, one of the largest community gatherings since the events of Oct. 7 and probably since before the pandemic. About 800 people gathered at Temple Sholom, where three diverse speakers brought their perspectives to an audience of Jews and non-Jewish allies.

The Feb. 4 afternoon event was the brainchild of Megan Laskin, a community leader who organized a similar event last November geared to women, who were asked to bring their non-Jewish friends; hundreds attended. Sunday’s gathering was presented by Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver, Jewish National Fund of Canada, StandWithUs and Temple Sholom. David, an American actor, filmmaker and activist, who is gay, was joined by Palestinian advocate and media commentator Bassem Eid, and Virág Gulyás, a Hungarian-born former diplomat who grew up with what she described as typical antisemitic stereotypes and has become a leading voice for the Jewish people and Israel. The audience alternated from rapt silence to thunderous ovations.

Since Oct. 7, David has been thinking about his grandparents, Holocaust survivors who saved others in the camps. His grandfather was known as the “Magic Man” for somehow obtaining desperately necessary medications and helping others out of life-threatening scenarios.

“When I was a little child in Israel, I couldn’t walk more than a few steps with them in public without somebody rushing up not only to them but to me, to say, ‘Do you know who your grandfather is? Do you know who your grandmother is?’ And they would lean down to me and they would say, ‘If it wasn’t for what your grandparents did, I would not be here today,’” he said. “As a little child, holding their hand, walking in the street, I knew that I was walking with heroes. I knew that I was walking in the footsteps that I must walk someday.”

His grandparents instilled chutzpah in him, he said, for precisely this moment in history.

“I was raised to understand what it means to have chutzpah because I was raised to understand what it means to not have chutzpah,” he said. “I was raised to understand what ‘never again’ actually means.”

His worldview and his Zionism were reframed by Oct. 7, he said.

“But it was also reframed by Oct. 8,” he said, referring to global reaction to the events of the day before. Not only did he lose friends on Oct. 7 and others who have died in battle during the war, but another friend, who survived the Nova festival, recently committed suicide because she could not live with the memories. Closer to home, in a different way, he says he has lost most of his friends in the United States.

“I also lost two-thirds of my friends in my life in America who revealed themselves,” he said. “Revealed that they were not my true friends, revealed that even though they came to my Shabbat dinners and they came to my film screenings and they were plus-ones at fabulous events, especially if they were gift bags … crickets. Where are they?”

Some even sent him photographs of themselves protesting against Israel.

“These aren’t pro-Palestinian marches,” he said. “Whoever calls them pro-Palestinian marches is a liar. These are pro-Hamas, pro-terrorism, anti-Palestinian, anti-Jewish and anti-democratic events, he said.

“I used to be woke,” he said of his years as a progressive activist. “Now I’m awake.” He calls his former allies who condemn Israel and side with Hamas “fauxgressives.”

“If you are going to be ‘pro,’” he said, “then do something good for the people. If you are pro-Palestinian, help create businesses, help create schools, help refugees – do something that helps somebody’s life. But, if all of your fake ‘pro’ activity is to be ‘anti,’ is attacking, is subjugating, is belittling, then you are a racist bigot. Shame. We must name and shame.”

Gulyás is an academic and former European Union diplomat who devotes much of her time contesting anti-Israel and antisemitic narratives. She spoke of how she confronted the anti-Jewish biases she was raised with in Hungary. She noted that anti-Israel street eruptions began on Oct. 8, before Israel’s military had responded to the pogrom – worldwide, she said, activists were prepared.

“They had all the slogans, all the flyers, all the social media posts, all the hashtags ready,” she said. On the other hand, most Canadians and others in the West do not subscribe to the hatred and anti-Israel vehemence seen on the streets, yet remain silent.

Would large numbers of people have reacted as street activists and social media keyboard warriors have if any other sovereign country were invaded by terrorists with the intention to mass murder, she asked.

“Unless you’re a psychopath, you wouldn’t,” she said. “But, somehow, when it comes to Jews and Israel, we remain silent, we look at the other side and with this we normalize Jew-hatred.”

Eid is a rare Palestinian voice in international media against the defamation of Israel and the corruption and ideology of the Palestinian regimes. He shared a story of a friend who lives in the northern Gaza Strip, who told Eid that Hamas representatives knocked on his door at night. They told him they wanted to pay him $50 a month – a windfall – to build tunnels under his home. Eid asked him how he replied to the request.

“He said, ‘My answer was, “Please try to build four tunnels and give me $200 a month,’” Eid recounted. This is how Hamas exploits the poverty of its people to meet its objectives, he said.

The high Palestinian death toll, Eid told the audience, is due partly to Hamas officers forcing civilians back into the homes and neighbourhoods the Israel Defence Forces has warned them to evacuate.

At the expense of millions of dollars in foreign aid, Hamas has built hundreds of kilometres of terror tunnels, he said. “But, in the meantime, Hamas didn’t build one shelter for their own people.”

When you ask Hamas why they don’t protect their people, Eid said, they reply that keeping Palestinians safe is the responsibility of the United Nations and the Israelis.

Eid blamed the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East (UNRWA), which has recently been under fire for its employees’ involvement in terrorism, for holding Palestinians hostage for more than 75 years.

“Peace is possible between the Israelis and the Palestinians,” said Eid. “But it is impossible while Hamas is still ruling the Gaza Strip. This is the first thing that we should have to get rid of. The day after the war, the first thing is how to trash UNRWA from Gaza.”

Temple Sholom’s Rabbi Dan Moskovitz opened the event. Laskin, who conceived the event, spoke of the grief of this time.

“As the war goes on and more innocent lives are lost on both sides, it is hard,” she said. “But let me be clear. We can strongly support Israel and the Jewish people and also express sympathy for the innocent Palestinians who are suffering. They are not mutually exclusive. We are mourning for all innocent lives lost. You can take a side though, and that side is against Hamas.”

Past trauma can help us

Rabbi Dr. Tirzah Firestone spoke in a Zoom webinar hosted by Victoria’s Kolot Mayim Reform Temple on Jan. 14. (PR photo)

Rabbi Dr. Tirzah Firestone unraveled intergenerational trauma, and offered solutions to help remedy it, in a Zoom webinar hosted by Victoria’s Kolot Mayim Reform Temple on Jan. 14. Firestone, the author of the award-winning 2019 book Wounds into Wisdom: Healing Intergenerational Jewish Trauma, is a Jungian psychotherapist and a leader in the Jewish Renewal movement.

“When I was first approached by Kolot Mayim last year to present this talk, nobody had any idea of the life-changing events that we would be experiencing,” Firestone began, acknowledging the geopolitical developments on and after Oct. 7. “Nor did I ever fathom when I wrote Wounds into Wisdom that it would be so very painfully relevant today in the midst of historical traumas in the making.”

An objective of the January talk was to address traumas experienced by one’s ancestors that get transmitted onto future generations in the form of fears, anxieties and hopelessness. Firestone’s goal is to help current generations “metabolize life better” so that the damaging psychological effects of trauma are not extended to future generations. In other words, those who come after should experience life from a position of resilience and hopefulness.

Firestone, who currently lives in Boulder, Colo., spoke about her own parents, who were deeply impacted by the Shoah – her mother as a German survivor and her father as an American soldier stationed in Germany.

“The past does not disappear. The painful histories our ancestors endured, along with their warmth, resilience and all their good resources, are intertwined within us, both psycho-spiritually as well as physically and physiologically,” said Firestone. “And they create the patterns of who we are and who we are becoming.”

Along these lines, the pain from trauma can be unspoken over the course of generations, yet becomes part of the individual nonetheless. Or, as in a quote from Israeli psychologist Dan Bar-On, cited by Firestone: “Untold stories often pass on more powerfully from generation to generation than stories that can be recounted.”

Ongoing patterns, whether ones of heroism and activism or depression and anxiety, are transmitted across generations. A young woman Firestone worked with, for example, became an activist, not knowing it ran in the family – her grandmother and great-aunt, neither of whom she had ever met, were rebels in their shtetl decades earlier.

Another example involved a woman whose very first memories as a young child were nightmares. One night, she explained to her concerned mother why she would wake up crying so often. The image in the young child’s mind was of an old wooden town where a man at the train station would jump from the platform to the train tracks. The man would run along the tracks yelling, “Stop! Stop!” The train would go on with the young man unable to catch it.

When the mother heard her child’s story, she cried and asked in disbelief, “How could you possibly have known this?” It was the story of the child’s grandfather who, in the Second World War, found out belatedly that Jews in his town, including his young family, had been rounded up and deported by train. He ran after the train, but never caught up and never saw his family again. The man survived the Holocaust and started a new life and family in the United States.

Traumas can happen collectively. Firestone noted that Israeli journalist Chemi Shalev wrote, “I am a Jew, and there are scenes of the Holocaust that are indelibly etched in my mind, even though I was not alive at the time.”

Firestone also outlined research conducted by Rachel Yehuda of New York’s Mount Sinai Hospital, which showed that the children of Holocaust survivors were three times more likely to develop post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms when exposed to traumatic events than the children of other Jews.

In the latter part of her talk, Firestone focused on what can be done towards healing trauma. Every family has its own ruptures and resources, no matter who or where it is, she said. Whether through intelligence, resilience or good fortune, every family today is a survivor. Thus, she asked, “What family resources can you tap to assist you in this current moment in history?”

Among some of the keys she highlighted for healing trauma, and which are discussed in greater depth in her book, is being aware of family legacies. This awareness, she asserts, will hinder the transmission of trauma to succeeding generations.

Another is to face one’s losses. “When we face our grief, we can start to feel our grief. When we don’t feel our grief, it becomes pathogenic. It makes disease on the inside of us,” she said.

A third technique for healing, according to Firestone, is “to harness the power of one’s pain.” That is, one can use the tremendous power contained in pain to bring on more destruction and further pain or to bring light, warmth and hope.

Firestone advised taking action. Here she employed a saying from Midrash: “Had I not fallen, I would not have arisen. Had I not been subject to darkness, I would not have seen the light.”

In concluding her remarks, Firestone said, “We have a mandate to draw on our ancestors’ greatest traits – their survival skills, their courage, their ingenuity – to apply to circumstances now. There are so many people who are suffering. What can we do from our own pain by harnessing its power and going places that we could not have gone before we endured [it]?”

For more on Firestone and her writings and ideas, visit tirzahfirestone.com.

To register for future Kolot Mayim speaker series Zooms, the next of which takes place Feb. 4, click here.

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

Stories of resilience shared

A family fleeing war, aided by acquaintances from a lifetime of hospitality. A person’s choice to be the light in a dark world after a loved one was murdered. The creation of a vital medical resource as a tribute to a father who died too young. These three stories were shared at the event A Night of Hope, which was held at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver Nov. 30. The three stories of resilience were intended to give hope in response to the trauma Jews worldwide have experienced since Oct. 7.

Rabbi Susan Tendler, spiritual leader of Beth Tikvah Congregation in Richmond, shared “the unlikely story” of how she became a rabbi, in part because of the trauma of having experienced the murder of a loved one.

In the year 2000, she recalled, “I was living my best life.” She thought she knew who she would marry, she had a dream job as a teacher in Israel and was planning on making aliyah.

photo - Rabbi Susan Tendler — Rabbi Susan Tendler *(photo by Pat Johnson)*

“I returned to the United States to get my affairs in order before making the big move as the Second Intifada broke out,” she said. Global conflict was compounded in the personal realm when her engagement was broken off. With foreign students avoiding Israel, her job was suddenly eliminated. Things began looking up, though, when she met Mike, “who showed me what partnership might look like.”

“And then, one night, he was brutally murdered,” she said. Five young men, joyriding, had crashed a car and needed another vehicle.

“They came upon Mike and murdered him, not even for his wallet. Just for fun,” Tendler said. “Just to take his car a few miles down the road before they ditched it.”

The murder plummeted her into depths of darkness.

“I couldn’t understand how such palpable evil could exist in the world,” she recalled. “How could a human being, created in the image of the divine, not understand life as sacred? What were the lives of those individuals that they didn’t hold this basic value as truth? And, by doing so, those five young men took the sanctity out of this world for me, for Mike’s family and his friends. I really didn’t care to live in a world with such sheer evil. It wasn’t that I was suicidal – I knew the difference and I wasn’t – I just really didn’t care to live or to die.”

She cited the Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai, who wrote that the Jewish people are “infected with hope.”

“We are taught to love others, to embrace others and to share our burdens with others,” Tendler said. “We need not struggle alone…. So, as I held on, people rallied, surrounded me and guided me through the darkness.”

Overcoming this and other personal and geopolitical traumas led her to an important insight.

“I came to realize that, if I didn’t like living in a world full of darkness and evil, then I needed to be the light,” she said. “I needed to choose life. I needed to choose hope and spread kindness, goodness and godliness to others.

“The world needs us right now,” she continued. “We all have hope coursing through our veins. Certainly, it has been weakened and doubted [since Oct. 7], but that is exactly what they want. We won’t let them win. Let the light created by our hope and optimism join forces, knowing indeed that we are not alone and that this positive energy be magnified as it draws others in. May our light be a beacon for the world.”

Tanja Demajo, chief executive officer of Jewish Family Services, shared her family’s history of survival in the Holocaust and the personal story of her family’s escape from the post-Yugoslavia war in Bosnia, where she was born. She had not shared any of this publicly before.

As a child in Mostar, young Tanja would often come home from school to find strangers at the table. Anyone passing through or needing hospitality was received in their house and welcomed with food.

photo - Tanja Demajo — Tanja Demajo (photo by Pat Johnson)

“My family always kept the door open,” she said. This openness, she believes, helped save her family when war exploded.

In 1992, when she was 11-and-a-half, everything changed, seemingly in a day.

“There were explosions everywhere, there was shooting everywhere, the army was everywhere,” she said. “The city emptied.”

Getting away from the fighting was not easy. Roadblocks were set up by different militias and Demajo could see the fear in her father’s expression as they confronted each successive barrier.

“We had to stop at three different points and at three different points we came across some people that my parents knew through their life,” she recalled. Keeping an open door meant there were people who knew the family and remembered their hospitality. “In each of these three situations, these friends came forward and put their lives on the line so they could let my family pass through.”

After the war ended, the family reconnected with her grandfather, who they had not seen in years.

“That was the first time actually that my grandfather shared with us his own story,” she said. From a community of 300, the grandfather and an uncle were the only survivors of the Holocaust.

She asked him why he was so cheerful, despite all he had gone through.

“He had this beautiful way of just hugging people and he would hug me and say, what are the things you remember as a child?” She recalled spending weekends with her grandfather, the meals and stories they shared. “And he said, well that’s how you survive. Because those are the things that matter. The people you have in your life, the friendships that you share with them and the food you share with them.”

The connections she saw her parents forge at the table – which proved potentially lifesaving as the family fled war – are a lesson she has always carried. It is something that Jews worldwide can remember now, she said.

“We need allies and we need to have these conversations to bring people together,” she said.

Jaime Stein shared the story of how the death his father, Howard Stein, in 2006, from acute leukemia, inspired him to help create Canada’s first public

photo - Jaime Stein — Jaime Stein *(photo by Pat Johnson)*

Early in the last decade, when Stein helped launch the $12.5 million campaign to create the facility, Canada was one of only two G-20 nations that did not have such a service. Umbilical cord blood contains blood-forming stem cells, which can renew themselves and differentiate into other types of cells.

Working with Canadian Blood Services, Stein and the fundraising team for the project decided on a big focal point for the campaign – climbing Tanzania’s Mount Kilimanjaro, the highest peak in Africa.

“We got 25 people to sign up [to climb] and everybody had to raise a minimum of $10,000,” Stein explained.

Stein, in his 30s at the time, when $10,000 was a daunting sum, organized weekly 9 a.m. hikes with friends and strangers, at which he would offer career advice, listen to his hiking mates or otherwise engage, then write a blog post.

“People started donating and people started telling their friends as well,” he said.

In the end, he raised $27,000, second only to the chief executive officer of Canadian Blood Services among the 25 climbers. Of course, the money turned out to be the easy part. They still had to ascend the mountain.

Like many others who climb tall mountains, Stein experienced altitude sickness – so severely he almost had to turn back.

“I could barely make it to camp,” Stein recalls of the onset of the crisis. “I just remember thinking about my dad, thinking of my family, thinking of the training, thinking of everything I did as I tried to get to camp.”

Slowly, his oxygen levels climbed and he was able to complete the trek.

The trip itself raised $350,000 and, eventually, the team raised all the funds necessary. Canada now has a fully functioning umbilical cord blood bank, with four collection sites, including one in Vancouver.

Alan Stamp, Jewish Family Services clinical director, and Ezra Shanken, chief executive officer of the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver, contextualized the stories as lessons in resilience community members can use to confront trauma.