Tag: retirement

Debbie Tabenkin set to retire

Debbie Setton Tabenkin sees travel, genealogy and fun with grandkids in her future. (photo by Jocelyne Hallé)

Debbie Setton Tabenkin, one of the most familiar faces to anyone who has frequented the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver in the past three decades, is retiring at the end of January.

Tabenkin began teaching English as a second language at the JCC in 1995. In conjunction with that role, she was instrumental in creating the drop-in child-minding program for kids of parents using the centre’s facilities or attending programs. In the succeeding quarter-century, she has served in a variety of roles and retires as director of programming and strategic initiatives, where she oversees about 10 program areas and 12 budgets.

Tabenkin’s interesting family history plays a role in her approach to her work. Her parents’ lineage is from the Syrian and Turkish Jewish communities and, in the early part of the 20th century, parts of her family migrated to Jamaica and Panama. Because there was a polio pandemic in Jamaica when her mother was pregnant, they traveled to Panama, where Tabenkin (née Setton) was born, returning to Jamaica as a babe in arms.

“I was used to what the community centre meant in Latin America,” she said of her philosophy around the work she does. “It was a social place where you came and you met people.” The “living room” of the community, she calls it. That is what she believes she has helped foster in Vancouver.

But there was a winding road before she ended up here.

The Setton home in Jamaica was the holiday destination for any Jews who happened to be on the island, whether American Peace Corps volunteers or Israelis helping the nation with agricultural infrastructure.

When she was 16, the family left Jamaica, where violence was becoming frequent, and moved back to Panama.

Her grandfather owned the kosher supermarket in Panama City, where family members – she has about 100 first cousins – still operate it. The store moved into new digs that include a kosher sushi restaurant just two weeks ago.

She was the black sheep of the family, she cheerfully admits.

“I came from a very traditional family where the girls got married,” she said. “One [sister] got married at 19 and one got married at 17 – and I knew I wanted a different lifestyle.”

She did a two-year associate’s degree at the American college in the Canal Zone and then taught Grade 2. She wanted to further her education and her parents said she could either go to New York City, where a sister had moved, or to Vancouver, where her brother, Victor Setton, had settled in 1975.

She completed her bachelor of education at the University of British Columbia, but the federal government at the time did not have a program that allowed her brother to sponsor her to remain in the country. So, she returned to Panama and taught English at the Jewish day school, Instituto Alberto Einstein.

She decided to pursue a master’s degree and, in 1980, was accepted at both Columbia and New York University. She got her MA at Columbia in the then-new field of educational technology and media.

“I lived in New York for five years and, you know, everything is for a reason,” said Tabenkin. “I’m so happy the Canadian government didn’t take me because that gave me five years in New York and those five years made me the person I am.”

She drank in the cultural offerings of the city and became very involved with the Sephardi association there.

“I became very proud of being Sephardic,” she said. “I really learned the history of the rich culture that Sephardic Jews have. I took multiple classes. I accessed everything and that’s when I learned Hebrew.”

She returned again to Panama but, then aged 30, set her sights on a new conquest.

“I really wanted to have a child and I really wanted to get married,” she said. “I decided, OK, I’m going to go to Israel. My mother was delighted when I left to Israel.”

She had taken up scuba diving in Panama and poked her head into a scuba store in Tel Aviv looking for information about opportunities to pursue the sport. She chatted with a young man named Yair Tabenkin.

A few days later, a friend invited Debbie to tag along to a Purim party and a scuba expedition in Eilat being organized by a young man. When the friend described the pal who was planning the trip, Debbie replied, “I think I met him.”

When the mutual friend told Yair who she was bringing along, he said, “Oh, is that the girl with the beautiful blue eyes?”

“He remembered my eyes – and that was it,” she said. “The rest is history. We met that Purim and we got married in August.

“On the year anniversary that I had moved to Israel, I was married and pregnant,” she said. “Let’s put it this way: I accomplished my goal.”

Before that happened, there had been some snooping. Yair Tabenkin had some family in Panama and queried about the Setton family. A similar investigation was happening in reverse.

“My mother went to the rabbi and said, look, my daughter is dating this guy named Yair Tabenkin,” she said. “And the rabbi said ‘Tabenkin? It’s like marrying a Kennedy.’”

Yair’s grandfather, Yitzhak Tabenkin, was a founder of the kibbutz movement and a leading figure in the creation of Mapai, the precursor to the modern Labour Party, along with David Ben-Gurion and Berl Katznelson, and was a member of the first Knesset.

After Debbie and Yair married, they were speaking with Debbie’s brother in Vancouver, who said he had an opportunity for the new husband. The couple moved here in 1990.

Her responsibilities at the JCC expanded quickly from that first ESL gig. She began organizing events – something she had been doing since her teenage years, when she created a Purim party in Panama.

On New Year’s Eve 2003, Tabenkin organized a multi-generational event at the JCC, where kids were entertained by camp counselors in the gym and pool while parents dined and discoed before everyone came together at midnight.

In 2004, she began Festival Ha’Rikud, a celebration of Israeli culture through music, dance, food, art, workshops, literature, family activities and marketplace. This year saw the festival’s 18th iteration.

In 2008, she spearheaded the Israel at 60 festival in Stanley Park, one of the largest and most visible public celebrations in Jewish community memory.

As director of programming and strategic initiatives, she has a finger in pretty much every pie at the centre, but a particular point of pride is the inclusion department.

“Debbie’s had a very distinct impact on many people’s lives in the community,” said JCC executive director Eldad Goldfarb. “She’s a very caring person, both to her staff and team and to the members of the community, always trying to find what she likes to call the ‘magic moment,’ basically trying to find something good out of the bad and trying to solve problems and make people happy.”

Tabenkin holds a great deal of institutional memory not only of the JCC but of the entire community, Goldfarb added.

“She’s definitely someone whose big shoes are going to be difficult to fill,” he said. “She’s someone who’s got not just the history, but the personal connection to a lot of people in the community.”

In retirement, Tabenkin may do some consulting, spend more time with her three adult children and two grandchildren and she hopes to get back to some exotic adventures. Just before COVID, she returned from Ethiopia. Before that, she visited Uzbekistan. She wants to delve deeper into genealogy and would love to spend a month in Turkey investigating that branch of her family.

She looks back with more than fondness.

“I truly love this place,” she said. “My whole family has benefited so much. I always say a membership to the JCC buys you 15 extra years of your life. You’re keeping healthy, you’re working out, you’re with people, you’re not isolated. It’s truly a place where everyone can be together, it doesn’t matter what your socioeconomic background is, it doesn’t matter your religion. It’s a place where we all get to be together. It’s our living room.”

Fox retires from VHEC

Rome Fox has been associated with the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre for 25 years. (photo from vhec.org)

Rome Fox has retired as assistant director of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre. She was recognized at the VHEC annual general meeting Oct. 20 by being named a Life Fellow of the organization.

Fox has been associated with the VHEC for a quarter-century, first as a volunteer, as a member of the board of directors and the executive committee and as co-chair of the annual Yom Hashoah commemorative event. Joining the centre’s staff as a part-time volunteer coordinator, Fox went on to serve as program coordinator, interim education coordinator and acting executive director, while also taking the lead on annual commemorative events.

In her remarks at the AGM, Fox reflected on the people she has met and worked with, emphasizing the Holocaust survivors.

“It has been life-changing and very fulfilling to participate in the growth of such an important and dynamic museum dedicated to Holocaust education and remembrance,” she said. “I’m truly honoured, fortunate and privileged to work with you, our remarkable and resilient Holocaust survivor community, and I cherish the lessons I’ve learned from you. You made a difference not only in my life but in the lives of thousands and thousands of B.C. students, teachers, citizens and government officials.”

Fox also expressed pride at the changes in the organization and the innovative projects, campaigns and commemorative events with which she has been involved.

She said she treasures her relationships with the three executive directors with whom she has served – Nina Krieger, Frieda Miller and Roberta Kremer – and the meaningful work they have done.

“Every day, when you’re working there, you know you’re making a difference somehow, someway,” she told the Independent. “Somebody’s life is being touched. When you hear the remarks of students of the impact of survivors or when they take a workshop, the questions that they ask, you know that kids are starting to get this stuff.”

Both of Fox’s late parents, Sarah and Al Rozenberg, were Holocaust survivors from Poland. Her mother was in the Warsaw Ghetto and worked in a munitions factory. Ultimately, Sarah was sent to Majdanek, while her entire family was sent to Treblinka and murdered. Many of Sarah Rozenberg’s artifacts are in the VHEC’s permanent collections.

Fox knows less about her father’s story, but he was mostly on the run and helping people as they tried to escape Nazi-occupied Poland.

The couple met in a displaced persons camp and moved to Edmonton, where Rome was born.

In a moving testimonial video shared at the annual general meeting, staff, volunteers and survivors paid tribute to Fox.

Robert Krell, founding president of the VHEC, spoke of “the strength you bring to the centre and the comfort and compassion to our survivors through your own personal understanding of our nature and our struggles.”

Frieda Miller, past executive director, said: “If an organization can be said to have a heart, you were that heart. As daughters of survivor parents, we shared that unique bond, one that I think also uniquely equipped us for our work at the centre. But, Rome, what I want you to know is that your contributions were not just valuable but truly fundamental to the VHEC’s remarkable achievements of over a quarter of a century.”

Lillian Boraks-Nemetz, a Holocaust survivor, said: “I read somewhere that the sturdiest pillars of human morality are compassion and a sense of justice. In all my interactions with you, I have experienced both. In your work at VHEC, you have been supportive and encouraging, you understood what it means to be a survivor of the Holocaust and have helped to guide us in many ways.”

Wendy Bross Stuart and Ron Stuart, who worked with Fox on the musical components of countless commemorative events, thanked her for years of achievements.

“She’s approachable, kind, competent, committed – she’s got the whole package,” Ron Stuart said. “I think you can get some of those qualities in other individuals but to get the whole package is quite unique.”

Krieger, the current executive director of the VHEC, spoke of the absence Fox’s retirement will leave.

“Although it is nearly impossible for us to imagine the centre without Rome as an integral part of our team, I know that we will continue to ask ourselves: What would Rome do?”

It’s RRSP and TFSA season again

Registered retirement savings plans (RRSPs) and tax-free savings accounts (TFSAs) are always topical at the beginning of the year. And, for anyone considering these options, there are two primary considerations right now: what new available contribution room you may have for your TFSA, and that you have the first 60 days of the year to make an RRSP contribution against your previous year’s income.

To help you understand the differences between the two tax-sheltered investment vehicles, we put together a general FAQ. However, before going over the mechanics, we want to stress how important it is to use these programs in your financial plan. There is almost no circumstance where it would make sense to hold investments that generate growth or income in a non-registered account rather than in a TFSA.

As an example of the power of the RRSP, we ran some numbers to consider. This is based on a high-income earner, age 30, and compares saving within an RRSP and investing the resulting tax savings as well, for 41 years, until age 71, and then cashing it all in and paying tax thereon, versus simply saving in a non-registered account.

In the example, the individual invested $24,000 per year in a portfolio that generated an income of 5% per year. We used a tax rate of 50%. At age 71, the after-tax cash savings in the hands of the individual, having used the RRSP program, is $808,000 greater than the traditional non-registered plan.

As you can see, the advantage of the RRSP is extremely significant and cannot be overstated.

TFSA basics

The tax-free savings account program began in 2009 to provide Canadians with an account to contribute and invest money tax-free throughout their lifetime. Contributions to a TFSA are not deductible for income tax purposes. Any amount contributed, as well as any income earned in the account (investment income and capital gains) are tax-free, even when it is withdrawn.

The allowable contribution room for a TFSA has changed over the years, and can be seen in Table 1.

TFSA has many important features:

  • to have one, you must be 18 years of age or older with a valid social insurance number,
  • there is a tax-free accumulation of income and gains,
  • you have tax-free withdrawals – at any time, for any reason,
  • they have no impact on income-tested benefits such as child tax benefits and guaranteed income supplement,
  • you can invest in any RRSP-qualified investment, such as mutual funds, ETFs, stocks, GICs, etc.,
  • the interest on money borrowed to contribute is not tax-deductible,
  • no attribution rules apply – it’s good for income splitting between spouses and can be transferred to the surviving spouse’s TFSA if they are the designated beneficiary,
  • to avoid penalties, you must be careful to not over-contribute, and
  • you can recontribute amounts withdrawn in previous years, and there is a 1% penalty per month if recontributed in the same calendar year.

RRSP basics

The registered retirement savings plan program was introduced by the Canadian government in 1957 to help Canadians save for retirement. All income accumulates on a tax-deferred basis and contributions are deducted against your taxable income in that particular tax year. As of 2020, the RRSP deduction limit is 18% of your earned income, to a maximum of $27,230. You should always check this amount with your accountant and/or CRA.

The important features of an RRSP include the contribution period, which is from Jan. 1 to the 60th day of the following year, and that the maximum age to contribute is 71. There is no minimum age for contributing, but, starting in the year after the year you turn 71, you must start making specified annual withdrawals from your RRSP, which now becomes a registered retirement income fund (RRIF).

The Home Buyers’ Plan (HBP) allows you to withdraw from your RRSP to buy or build your first home. In this case, the money must be in the RRSP for 90 days before withdrawal is permitted, and you can withdraw up to $35,000. Regarding repayment of the withdrawal, participants must repay 1/15th per year (starting in year 2), with the total amount paid off in 15 years.

The Lifelong Learning Plan (LLP) allows you to withdraw funds from your RRSP to finance full-time training or education expenses for you or your spouse or common-law partner. You can participate in the LLP for yourself, while your spouse or common-law partner participates in the LLP for him or herself; you can both participate in the LLP for either of you; or you can participate in the LLP for each other. Withdrawals of up to $10,000 in a calendar year and up to total of $20,000 are permitted, and participants must repay 1/10th of the amount withdrawn per year, with the total amount paid off in 10 years.

Philip Levinson, CPA, CA, and Brent Davis are associates at ZLC Financial, a boutique financial services firm that has served the Vancouver community for more than 70 years. Each individual’s needs are unique and warrant a customized solution. Should you have any questions about the information in this article, visit zlc.net or call 604-688-7208.

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Disclaimer: This information is not to be construed as investment, legal, taxation or account advice, nor as an offer to sell or the solicitation of an offer to buy any securities. It is designed only to educate and inform you of strategies and products currently available. The views expressed in this commentary are those of the authors alone and are not necessarily those of ZLC Financial or Monarch Wealth Corp. As each situation is different, please seek advice based on your specific circumstance.

What if critical illness strikes?

(photo from flickr)

We all wonder and fear what would happen if we were diagnosed with one of many critical illnesses or suffered a heart attack or stroke.

You work hard to achieve personal and financial goals during your lifetime. Your plan is working and you have accumulated savings and investments, using tax-efficient investment strategies such as your registered retirement savings plan (RRSP). If you have to sell investments prematurely or stop investing in order to manage recovery costs, your future plans may never recover. So what should you do?

The survival rate of these critical illnesses has risen over the years and we are now most likely going to survive “the big one.” In Canada, these are the statistics: 63% likelihood of surviving at least five years after a cancer diagnosis, 90% will survive a heart attack, and there is an 80% survival rate after a stroke and hospitalization.

Here’s the problem

The issue is that there are significant costs associated with the treatment and recovery from such an illness. There can be large medical bills that are not covered by our various healthcare plans. In Canada, many will want to pursue treatments offered by private clinics at home or abroad, which can be extremely costly.

In addition to these costs, we often neglect to consider the other realities that people face, such as not being able to work. The most obvious is the loss of income suffered when one cannot work or run the family business or professional practice for an extended period of time. This might also affect the income of the spouse and other family members, those who are needed to provide home care.

What are the options?

To deal with the unexpected costs and loss of family income there are really two choices:

  1. One may choose to self-insure, meaning that one accepts the risks and has put money aside to cover the eventuality, or
  2. One may purchase critical illness insurance, which provides a lump sum after one is diagnosed with one of the critical illnesses covered in the policy.

The options in more detail

Removing the costs and lost income from one’s financial plan is a considerable setback to the financial plan. The projected retirement income is suddenly reduced and, for most people, it will never be made up. The impact is even greater if one is forced to withdraw from RRSP accounts, as these amounts are fully taxable as income.

As an example, if one needed to cover $100,000 of costs and had to withdraw it from a RRSP account, at a marginal tax rate of 50%, the person would have to withdraw $200,000 of savings intended for retirement.

The eventual impact on one’s projected retirement must be considered carefully, taking into account the income tax issues based on the source of funds, plus the loss of compounding that will no longer be enjoyed on the growth of those funds from the time of the critical illness until the time one planned to retire.

Suffice it to say, the decision to self-insure needs to be taken very seriously. Unfortunately, there are statistics that reaffirm the risks of falling ill with a critical illness are significant.

Critical illness insurance is sometimes referred to as “new insurance,” as it is a newer solution than traditional life insurance. In the past, before the many medical advancements we have enjoyed, life insurance was the solution because it was more rare to survive the illnesses.

Critical illness policies are designed to pay out a lump sum, say $100,000, typically 30 days after the diagnosis. The illnesses are defined and one can purchase a basic plan that covers heart, stroke and cancer, or the more comprehensive plans that have up to 25 covered conditions and include long-term-care insurance as well.

As of the end of 2019, one major life insurance company reported the following statistics:

  • It has paid out $520 million on 5,360 claims. In 2019, 67% were for cancer, 13% for heart attack, four percent for strokes and the remainder for coronary bypass, multiple sclerosis and other illnesses. The average age of claimants was 53 for women and 55 for men.

The lump sums paid out are used to cover medical costs, replace lost income, retire debt such as loans and mortgages, cover salaries within a business and often pay for time off and bucket list-type vacations.

There are programs available where, if one has been fortunate enough to not have made a claim, in other words, not have fallen ill with a critical illness, the policy can be canceled and all the premiums refunded. The only cost, in that case, is the time value of money on the premiums, as 100% is refunded.

It is even possible to model such a plan where one uses funds earmarked for a RRSP contribution to cover the premiums. This is more effective than one might first think, as the refund of premiums is tax-free.

The first step is to identify and understand the risks to one’s retirement plan. The second step is to consult a qualified professional to consider what protection works best for you.

Philip Levinson, CPA, CA, is an associate at ZLC Financial, a boutique financial services firm that has served the Vancouver community for more than 70 years. Each individual’s needs are unique and warrant a customized solution. Should you have any questions about the information in this article, he can be reached at 604-688-7208 or [email protected].

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Sources: Manulife Insurance – Critical Illness: Asset Protection: Keep Your Retirement Savings for the Future, and Critical Illness: Retirement Protection Handbook.

Disclaimer: This information is designed to educate and inform you of strategies and products currently available. The views (including any recommendations) expressed in this commentary are those of the author alone and are not necessarily those of ZLC Financial. This information is not to be construed as investment advice. It is for educational or information purposes only. It is not intended to provide legal, taxation or account advice; as each situation is different, please seek advice based on your specific circumstance. This commentary is not in any respect to be construed as an offer to sell or the solicitation of an offer to buy any securities.

The joy of Israeli dance

Tamar Cohen and her husband, Michael Gal. (photo from Vancouver Israeli Folk Dance Society)

After 43 years of teaching with the Vancouver Israeli Folk Dance Society (VIFS), Tamar Cohen is retiring. One of the early leaders of the VIFS and co-founder, with Rivka Cohen, in 1981, of the Shalom Dancers, an Israeli dance performance group, Tamar Cohen has inspired generations of dancers.

Cohen’s passion for dance began in Israel, in her teens, when she was introduced to Israeli dancing in school, in Kiryat Haim, a suburb of Haifa. At that time, in the late 1940s, in the formative years of the state of Israel, there was an avid interest among the youth in Israeli cultural activities, including folk dance. She joined a performance group in high school and then trained as a teacher, both as a profession and as a dance instructor.

“We did couple and circle dances, no line dancing, and there really weren’t that many dances, not like today,” she explained.

Cohen also trained as a school teacher, and taught Judaic studies for more than 40 years in Israel, the United States and Canada, including at Vancouver Talmud Torah.

It was in 1960 that Cohen brought her dance talents to Canada, teaching and starting a performing dance group in Winnipeg, where she met her husband, Michael Gal. In 1975, moving to Vancouver, she was part of the formation of the Vancouver Israeli Folk Dance Society, where she has taught continuously since 1976.

“In those days, we used records, and then tapes,” she said. “My son would help me shlep all these big cartons with records on Sundays and Wednesdays.” Now, of course, everything is on computers.

Cohen taught at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver, the Peretz Centre for Secular Jewish Culture and at Congregation Beth Tikvah. Many dancers who still gather at the JCC on Wednesday and Sunday evenings, including Lorna Donner and Marilyn Weinstein, both on the current VIFS executive, were introduced to Israeli dancing during the nine years Cohen taught at Beth Tikvah.

“In 1992, in the Beth Tikvah social hall, Marilyn and I started dancing by following our teacher, Tamar, around the circle,” said Donner. “Here we are, decades later, still sharing our love and enthusiasm for Israeli dance. Thank you, Tamar!”

Cohen became a VIFS board member when it first became a society, and served as president from 1985 to 1987. She remains on the VIFS executive and is a valued part of its community of dancers – approximately 80 active members – who come from a range of ages and walks of life: teenagers to dancers in their 80s; students, artists and professionals; beginners to those, like Cohen, who have danced all their lives.

“I’ve known and shared the dance floor with Tamar since the early ’80s, when I first began to attend Israeli dance sessions at the JCC,” said Nona Malki, VIFS executive director. “Tamar’s dedication and commitment to the local dance community, to the Israeli dance movement and to the Vancouver Israeli Dance Society, as one of its founders, was both profound and inspirational. Tamar took it upon herself to mentor me and, due to her guidance and encouragement, my passion for Israeli dance was sparked.”

Reflecting on the changes in Israeli folk dance over the years, Cohen said, “To me, folk dancing is for the folks, not for the professional or the advanced. I’m a little bit nostalgic in that regard. The dances used to be much shorter and quite symmetric. It came so naturally. I find that, nowadays, the dances are longer and more complicated. The old dances were easier to remember. I might belong to a different generation,” she said, chuckling.

Speaking about the future of Israeli dancing, Cohen said, “Israeli dancing is very popular.” There are scores of choreographers from Israel and around the world, she said, and countless new and challenging dances.

Certainly, it was the joy of dancing that hooked Cohen decades ago. However, she said, “I also see Israeli dancing as an ambassador for Israel. By presenting the folklore, the culture, the music and songs, it brings people, Jews and non-Jews, closer to Israel. Israeli dancing is beautiful. I think it’s very important that it continues.”

For more information about VIFS, visit vancouverisraelidance.com.

Glenda Leznoff is a member of the Vancouver Israeli Folk Dance Society.

Diversity in retirement

For Prof. Michelle Pannor Silver, author of Retirement and Its Discontents, an individual should be the one to decide when they start to work less. (photo from sociology.utoronto.ca)

Not long ago, it was a given that, when you reached the age of 65 or so, you would retire. But, that is no longer the case.

Michelle Pannor Silver, an assistant professor in the University of Toronto’s sociology department and its Interdisciplinary Centre for Health and Society, explores some of the reasons for this, as well as the difference between planning for retirement and the experience of it, in Retirement and Its Discontents: Why We Won’t Stop Working, Even If We Can (Columbia University Press, 2018).

Pannor Silver’s interest in the topic started when she was tasked with helping wind down her father’s office.

“My real initial motivation for studying retirement at all, and really for the book, was my dad’s experience,” Pannor Silver told the Independent. “I wrote about this in the book, that, when I was in my 20s, my dad developed dementia. It became really clear that he was not able to continue seeing his patients. And he was quite active in Jewish Big Brothers. That was something that was a big part of his work as a social worker. That’s the way he identified, as a social worker. He was a psychotherapist.”

This experience led Pannor Silver to the U.S. Health and Retirement Study, and she spent many hours and years examining people’s retirement trajectories. In her dissertation, she focused on, among other things, the relationship between the type of work people did and several different health measures, before and after they retired.

“After spending a lot of time looking at data points, I became really interested in talking to real people about what their retirement was like and, really, to discuss what retirement meant,” she said. In quantitative analysis, you make certain assumptions, she explained, “like how this person works this many hours and, therefore, they are fully employed, versus this person who works that many hours and then stopped … and, so, I’m going to code that one as retired.”

To verify or refute such assumptions, Pannor Silver interviewed people.

“I started really basic – just asking people what it means to them to be retired,” she said. “That helped me realize that, boy, this is a loaded term. It seems so simple, so straightforward, and the media gives us these clues about what it’s supposed to mean – you’ll see these commercials with these people who are retired, but are running on the beach, so retirement must mean running on the beach holding hands. Or, there are other ones that are about saving for retirement, so it must mean that it’s something you do when you stop working.”

A focus of Retirement and Its Discontents is ageism, and what it means to be told by society that it is time for you to stop doing the thing you have probably spent most of your adult life doing. The people she features found that life without work wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

image - Retirement and Its Discontents book cover

“The people I interviewed, many talked about being pushed into retirement – being told it was time to make room for the next generation,” she said. “Some of them did it of their own volition. They weren’t really forced into it, but they assumed it was time for them to move over. They looked at how old their fathers had been when they retired, and decided that a certain age was going to be their benchmark. It’s really about the fathers who they looked at, and some of them saw their fathers retiring and dying the next year, or very shortly thereafter. And they thought they’d better retire then, too, so they could live a little before the end comes for them.”

The idea of when to retire is influenced by media messaging. Some of Pannor Silver’s Canadian study participants talked about “freedom 55,” the advertisements for it and how that has always been in their mind as the magic number at which to retire.

Pannor Silver’s study included international participants. And, while the magic age may differ, “the thing they shared – whether they were forced by existential pressures or because of their own internal ideas about when they ought to retire – first of all, they ended up living longer than their parents. All the [financial planning] models people generally have are wrong,” she said, “and that has, of course, implications for the public pension systems that are out of whack, too.

“But, my book really speaks to the experience of people facing the norms on a sort of anachronistic or out-of-date understanding of what retirement is and are disappointed by their experiences because of that – because of the expectations … that it should happen at this certain time and should be a certain way that would lighten and free them. Yet, they felt kind of burdened with life without work.”

Pannor Silver hopes that readers of her book will discard the idea that retirement should be associated with a chronological age. She would like to see them open themselves up to the idea that there are many different ways people can experience retirement.

“I think that, for many people, retirement is a bad word they don’t even want to use,” said Pannor Silver. “My point is to share the experiences of varied, different types of people who, for various reasons, retired in traditional ways … and had to find their own way around it … to sort of rewrite and create their own retirement experiences.

“For them, it was very surprising and, hopefully, others take some comfort in recognizing it’s a really challenging transition, a really important time of life. There’s so much attention paid to the early stages in life – finishing high school, getting into university or that initial career transition, and career mobility and trajectory, but very little attention is paid to later career transitioning. And that was my goal – to be able to say, ‘Here’s a set of people’s experiences.’ And, people tell me that these experiences have really resonated with them…. We can’t just assume that, because an employee is reaching a certain age, it means he or she should be passed up for promotion, cast aside or ignored. It ought to be up to the individual to say, ‘I have other things I want to do,’ or whatever the reason is – to make the decision on their own, that, now, they choose to make a transition to working less.”

While Pannor Silver’s target market is people approaching retirement, she is hoping that the book will also influence the employers, managers and others who are deciding – on the basis of incorrect assumptions or ignorance – to overlook certain parts of their workforce.

“I have Olympic athletes who I interviewed for the book, homemakers, doctors and CEOs … it’s a varied group of individuals,” said Pannor Silver. “But, their experiences are all people who were incredibly dedicated to their work. Their work was their life’s work, and the point is to contribute to an ongoing discussion about what retirement is now … what we can assume about it and what we should not assume.”

Pannor Silver’s next book will examine the importance of physical movement in the later stages of life.

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

Retirement offers new path – the Accidental Balabusta

It was an uber-yummy pot roast that spawned the Accidental Balabusta. (photo by Shelley Civkin)

The definition of balabusta goes like this: 1) an impressively competent homemaker; 2) female head of household.

I recently saw balabusta used in a sentence: “She’s such a balabusta, she can make Shabbos for 20 in one afternoon.” Seriously? In which galaxy could anybody (never mind a balabusta) make any meal for 20 in one afternoon? I’m pretty sure that’s called hyperbole, or straight up bovine caca. Maybe I’m just not aware of the superpowers of real-life balabustas; the ones who sport red aprons and rule the domestic world. Personally, I couldn’t even make mac and cheese for 20 in one afternoon.

According to the Jewish Chronicle, “Balaboosters [sic] are rather out of fashion these days, victims of feminism and women’s magazines. Still, at least according to family myth, all of our grandmothers were balaboosters – heroic homemakers who raised large numbers of children in straitened circumstances and made real gefilte fish from a carp that swam about in the bathtub.” Not my Jewish grandmothers! Mine were neither spectacular cooks, nor did they have a bathtub filled with fish.

I don’t buy the idea that balabustas are out of fashion these days. I believe they’re just contemporary versions of the old-time balabustas. We hold down jobs, raise kids – well, not me, personally, but millions of other modern balabustas – and we’re active in our communities. And we just happen to bake, cook, do the laundry, clean the house and more. I, for one, am flattered to be called a balabusta. Even an accidental one. I feel like it puts me squarely in the category with other competent Jewish women, who juggle multiple tasks and are the glue that holds their families together.

So, how did I come to be crowned “the Accidental Balabusta”? It was the day I made a textbook perfect, uber-yummy pot roast. My husband Harvey took one bite and proclaimed me the Accidental Balabusta. Just like that! To substantiate his declaration, a week later I baked a batch of kalamata olive and rosemary challah buns (recipe from Rising: The Book of Challah by Rochie Pinson). They were exquisite. Or so I’m told. For the record, there was no bread machine or KitchenAid dough hook within 100 metres of my tiny galley kitchen. Just me, a 13-litre stainless steel bowl and enough flour to coat a bison.

For an encore, I made a handmade, painted challah cover. Next thing you know, I’ll be herding sheep. Anyway, that’s how the new moniker stuck.

Regarding the definition of balabusta, I might qualify as the “female head of household,” depending on whom you ask. As for being a remarkably skilled homemaker … well, the jury’s still out on that one. Way out. Truth to tell, most people I know would unequivocally classify me as the anti-balabusta. “That Shelley Civkin is a real balabusta!” Said nobody. Ever.

It’s not for lack of trying. OK, for about 50 years, it was. I simply wasn’t interested in cooking and cleaning. I was single and worked full-time. Since I only got married at age 53, the childbearing train had left the station. Empty. I was zero for three.

Then heaven happened: I retired three years ago. I took the advice of a wise rabbi, who told me that retirement doesn’t mean just sleeping in and doing nothing. It means helping others, doing mitzvot and finding your purpose in life. Did I mention I regularly volunteer to bake challah for seniors? I took the rabbi’s words to heart, and here I am today, the Accidental Balabusta. I’m sure my family and friends are laughing their tucheses off right now. “Shelley, a balabusta? You gotta be kidding?” For most of my life I was a water-burner.

If you ask Harvey, he’ll tell you I’m a great cook. To wit, he’ll eat anything. Exhibit A: the fish fiasco. A year or two into our relationship, I decided to make breaded snapper. So, I used my father’s recipe and coated the fish in flour, eggs and breadcrumbs. While it was frying, a tiny piece of breading came off, so I popped it my mouth. Something didn’t taste right. I checked the expiry date on the egg container – it was fine. Then I put my finger in the bread crumbs to taste them – they were good. Finally, I put my finger in the jar of flour. Only to realize that I’d just coated all my fish in icing sugar. Harvey, G-d bless him, ate the icing-sugar-coated fish. I went out for sushi.

Then there was the infamous lamb debacle. It was New Year’s Eve and I decided to go for broke, so I made a rack of lamb. I covered the lamb in my usual Dijon mustard, lemon and garlic mixture and put it in the oven. Our first bite in, both of us noted the unusually strong lemon flavour. But it was tasty.

An hour later, it wasn’t. Harvey ended up in the bathroom driving the big, white porcelain bus. Several hours later, I landed in the hospital emergency department having three bags of IV fluids pumped into me. Let’s just say I got very dehydrated, and leave it at that.

As for being a great homemaker, that’s not my strong suit. What I mean to say is this: I am not on a first-name basis with my vacuum cleaner. In fact, I couldn’t tell you the brand if my life depended on it. I am to housecleaning what porcupines are to Winnebagos. If tchotchkes aren’t screaming out to be dusted, leave well enough alone. Let me clarify: I’m not dirty. I’m just a little messy. I figure there are more important things to do than clean house. Like read. Or eat chips. When guests come over, though, I pull out all the stops. OK, I pull out the fancy hand towels. Actually, Harvey pulls them out. I watch.

The last time I did anything domestic was in Grade 3 Hebrew school, when our teacher had all the girls embroider kippot for the boys. The boys’ assignment – wait for it – was to wear the kippot. No sexism there. Of course, it was the early 1960s. So, you’re welcome, boys.

But back to the balabusta thing. It turns out that I actually enjoy cooking and baking. Who knew? With nothing but free time on my hands now (except for my volunteer activities), I can kick back, put my hair up and tie one on. An apron, that is.

Stay tuned for more Accidental Balabusta.

Shelley Civkin, aka the Accidental Balabusta, is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review, and currently writes a bi-weekly column about retirement for the Richmond News.

Everyone can say yes to life

At risk of universalizing a book with a particular theme, The Aging of Aquarius: Igniting Passion and Purpose as an Elder is valuable not just for those who are retired or pondering it – though it has plenty of age-specific content for that demographic. At root, it is a book about living well, and that makes it a valuable volume for people of any age.

Author Helen Wilkes, a Vancouverite and member of the Or Shalom community, has penned an optimistic, uplifting book. But let that not deceive the reader, she warns early on, into misjudging who she is.

“Lest you think I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth or that I am one of those insufferably cheerful people,” she writes in the preface, “permit me to introduce myself.”

She talks about being born to Jewish shopkeepers in a village in the Sudetenland, part of Czechoslovakia that was among the first places occupied by the Nazis in advance of the Second World War.

“Our village fell to Hitler when I was still in diapers and, as a consequence, I have spent a lifetime with fear and negativity as my constant companions,” she writes.

Her childhood was lonely and her parents uncommunicative. Her marriage ended when her daughters were 3 and 4 years old.

“Divorce at the time was still so shameful that it took my mother several years to accept what she and her friends labeled as my ‘failure as a woman.’”

Yet Wilkes pivots to optimism.

“If, despite a childhood in the shadow of the Holocaust, and if, despite a lifetime of experiencing myself as an outsider with little sense of self-worth, I have found cause to hold my head high and to face the future with optimism in my retirement years, there is reason for others to hope,” she writes.

This is not a handbook on aging so much as an illustration by example of how to do it right. She does acknowledge, though, that a person has to make the effort to age well. Each section of her book ends with ideas and actions that might help on the path to success.

“Everywhere, there are opportunities to meet new people, yet surveys indicate that social isolation is a major problem despite the fact that simply joining a club is as good for your health as quitting smoking, exercising or losing weight,” writes Wilkes, who has a PhD in French literature. “The Vancouver Foundation reports ‘a precipitous decline’ in how many people made use of libraries, community or recreation centres in 2017, that only about one in four people took part in any kind of community or neighbourhood project.… And that, in a city as diverse as ours, only about one in four people attended an ethnic or cultural event put on by an ethnic or cultural group different than their own.”

image - The Aging of Aquarius book coverFinding joy in the simple things – again, good advice for people of any age – is one of her key findings.

“Aging has made me a connoisseur of life,” she writes. “It has taught me to savour not what is rare or high-priced, but what is ordinary. The small moments that sometimes overwhelm me with heart-stopping joy. An incredible blue-sky day. The first sip of my morning coffee. The laughter of family and friends. Whenever I am walking in the woods with a boisterous dog, whenever I sit on a log at the beach while the sun dips slowly below the horizon and paints the sky with hues no artist could capture, whenever I stroll through a harvest market where farm-fresh produce overwhelms with its rich ripeness, whenever my grandchildren burst through the doorway to give me a hug, or whenever I am engaged in any number of absorbing activities, I so often have an overwhelming sense of not wanting to be anywhere in the world except exactly where I am at this moment.”

While she challenges the conceptions some people have of retirement as a time to sit in a hammock with a fancy drink, she does also acknowledge that, as Danny Kaye said, “to travel is to take a journey into yourself.”

She talks about an eye-opening trip to China, where she went as a chaperone to her 10-year-old twin grandsons. Having heard of the panoply of human rights abuses in China, she was shocked to see an English-language newspaper with a headline asking “How dare they?” above an article cataloguing racism and human rights abuses in the United States and other “free world” countries. Having heard about China’s reputation as a major contributor to global warming, she was pleased to see solar panels and wind turbines throughout the country. The rapid transit system they used to get everywhere contrasted with what she is familiar with in Vancouver.

“China held up a mirror that led me to reexamine the history I had been taught in high school and university,” she writes. “Day by day, it became more difficult to view the West as having brought enlightenment to backward Asians.”

Wilkes acknowledges that not everyone can travel to foreign countries and says there are ways to experience some of that diversity without getting on a plane.

“Next week, I anticipate attending a Hindu baby-naming ceremony to which I’ve been invited. Last week, I was invited for dinner at the home of a Muslim family from Pakistan. Being at their table, sharing our limited knowledge of one another’s culture, these to me are opportunities for much more than just personal enjoyment or emotional enrichment. They are occasions where it is possible to create a gram of kindness in a world where political and regional and religious differences tend to divide rather than link. I never fail to feel uplifted by experiencing our common humanity writ large. When I can no longer travel, I hope I will still reach out to people from other lands as graciously as people elsewhere have reached out to me,” she writes.

She speaks about another trip – this one to Berlin, for the launch of the German translation of her previous book, Letters from the Lost: A Memoir of Discovery, which explored her survivor’s guilt as she discovered, in adulthood, a cache of letters from family left behind in Czechoslovakia after she and her parents fled just after Nazi occupation of the Sudetenland.

“In Berlin, forgetting is impossible,” she reflects. “Over the years, Germany has made remembering an art as well as an official policy. Germany tells the world that it is only by remembering the past that we have any likelihood of avoiding similar mistakes in the future. The reminders are unavoidable. In Berlin, history is omnipresent. Even the sidewalks are studded with Stolpersteine, raised stumbling blocks inscribed with the names of Jews who once lived in the adjacent buildings.”

Since so many people’s identities are entwined with their profession, she writes, moving into retirement, for many people, can demand a complete reinvention of self. She proceeds to ask a litany of questions about what identity means, and even, as a member of a particular culture, what culture means.

“Such questions and many more continue to haunt me as I age,” she writes.

And, while she turns to books for answers, the process of asking questions may be an end in itself when addressing the existential issues the book confronts.

Among everything else it is, The Aging of Aquarius is also a very Jewish memoir. Both in her personal history and in the theological exploration she discusses near the end of it, her Jewish identity and experiences play central roles in the story.

At a book launch at Or Shalom on Nov. 4, Wilkes said she approaches the later years of life with many unanswered questions. But, as difficult as finding answers may be, she suggested responding affirmatively.

“I know it’s not easy, but if the answer to how is yes,” she said in conclusion, “let us all say yes to life. Yes to aging. L’chaim.”

Working in community

Sidney Shmilovitch retired this July from Jewish National Fund, Pacific Region, after 19 years. (photo from Sidney Shmilovitch)

Being at the forefront of the baby boom generation, I was born in Vancouver after my father returned from serving overseas. The opportunity of work on Vancouver Island saw our family move and live in the small communities of Maple Bay and Departure Bay for the next 10 years. Moving back to the Lower Mainland, my parents and I settled in West Vancouver, where I graduated from West Vancouver Secondary. I then attended B.C. Institute of Technology and graduated with a diploma in X-ray technology, followed by a two-year stint as a Cuso volunteer working in small hospitals in the north and south of Nigeria.

Upon returning to Canada, and after a number of years working in Toronto, I moved back to the West Coast. Living in Abbotsford, I met and married Dan Shmilovitch, who was heading efforts to form what eventually became known as Ha’Emek Jewish Community. Holiday programming in the community was enhanced by the services of Chabad rabbis from Vancouver. When our children became of school age, we began attending Jewish events in Vancouver. A wise rabbi there told us that if we wanted our children to remain Jewish, we had to move to the city, join a synagogue and put our children in Hebrew school. So we did, in 1987, which marked the beginning of our relationship with the Jewish communities of Richmond and Vancouver.

In 1988, I began my first job in the Jewish community, working in Richmond as part-time secretary for Eitz Chaim Synagogue. This was my first experience working in the Jewish religious world and learning the complexities of growing a young congregation. Two years later, searching for full-time work, I was hired for a joint position with the Canadian Zionist Federation, Camp Miriam and the World Zionist Organization aliya department at their shared office space at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver. The five years I spent working with these organizations introduced me to the important work of Jewish professionals, dedicated board members and volunteers.

In 1996, I joined Jewish National Fund, following in the footsteps of Maisie Myerthall, who was retiring after 26 years. And now, after 19 busy years working with JNF, it was my turn to retire this July. I will miss the special working relationships I had with colleagues in JNF offices from Vancouver to Montreal, especially of course, Ilan Pilo, Moran Nir and Liisa King in the Vancouver office – all part of the JNF family. It was a privilege for me to work with six JNF shlichim (emissaries) over the years, all of whom I admired for their humanity, love of life, energy, drive and determination.

As for me, now that I’m retired, I will volunteer with the JNF, and am considering other volunteer opportunities in the community – I’m open to ideas! And we will travel. So far, Dan and my travel plans revolve around visiting our kids and grandchildren on the east and west coasts of the United States.

I have many thanks to send. To my friends at the JCC, some of whom I have known for 25 years – keep up the good work! My sincere appreciation to the staff of communal organizations, synagogues and schools who were so accommodating and helpful to me. My love and thanks to the members of the JNF executive and board for all their support, hard work and devotion to Israel, and for being so enjoyable to work with. A thank you to all the leaders who have built a strong, vibrant and exciting community that will go from strength to strength. And, to the philanthropists, kol hakavod for your vision and inspirational generosity that make it all happen.