Sukkot

JNF panelists focus on heart

Panel speaker Dr. Arthur Dodek in 1963, planting a Jewish National Fund tree as part of the second World Jewish Youth Convention. Dodek was in Israel representing the Student Zionist Organization of North America. (photo from Arthur Dodek)

The Zoom event in Jewish National Fund, Pacific Region’s virtual sukkah on Oct. 8 was seamless and stimulating. Moderator and presenter Dr. Arthur Dodek led the presentation on heart health with a five-minute overview of risk factors. Drs. Saul Isserow, Zach Laksman and Josh Wenner each presented as well, enlightening the audience in easy-to-understand language on topics of cardiology, also in just five minutes each.

But why was JNF Pacific Region hosting a talk on heart health? Well, every year, JNF hosts a Negev Dinner, raising funds for a specific project. This year, in collaboration with the Israeli organization Save a Child’s Heart (SACH), the fundraising supports the building of a cardiac treatment room, as well as a Holter (a heart-rhythm test) room, at the Wolfson Medical Centre in Holon. The sukkah event was the second in the campaign, the first having been held on Aug. 30, for which Dr. Saul and Lindsay Isserow were honourary chairs (jewishindependent.ca/negev-campaign-goes-virtual). Isserow being a prominent cardiologist led to the idea for this second event, an educational panel on heart health.

The funds raised by this Negev campaign will help SACH focus on doing what they do best – saving the lives of some of the most vulnerable children in the world who are born with heart defects. According to Ilan Pilo, executive director of JNF Pacific Region, many of the young patients are from the Palestinian territories and some come from Lebanon and Syria. As well, there are a number of patients from African nations who have been brought to Israel for surgery, accompanied by their families. “There is a beautiful house for the families, like Ronald McDonald House, but it is an African island in suburban Israel,” said Pilo.

At the Oct. 8 panel, Dodek – using data from a variety of studies – summarized the main lifestyle and medical coronary risk factors. At the top of his list was cigarette smoking, which has decreased in prevalence by nearly 30% since 1965. Diet and cholesterol were other major factors of heart disease, with a Mediterranean or Japanese diet recommended to reduce the chance of cardiovascular events. Blood pressure is also a key issue, and Dodek touched on the benefits of a lifestyle that includes stress and weight reduction, as well as exercise.

Isserow picked up on this theme. In providing a practical, Jewish-oriented take on the best way to maintain long-term cardiac health, he said, “The best bang for your buck from a cardiac point of view is simply getting off your tuches and walking for 30-40 minutes per day.” He mentioned having a l’chaim with friends as a way to lower blood pressure, while stressing that having physical activity as part of a daily routine is beneficial not only for the heart but for myriad other areas of health.

Taking things to another level of complexity, Laksman successfully simplified the subject of atrial fibrillation (a chaotic and irregular heart beat). He spoke about the heart’s rhythm and the causes of heart rhythm disorders, as well as treatment options. He explained that age is the number one cause of atrial fibrillation, but added, “Bad habits, alcohol, probably being number one.” Other factors include genetics, really intense endurance exercise, stress and pollution. Laksman discussed how it feels to experience atrial fibrillation and offered some easy tips, including that people should learn how to take their own pulse, to determine their condition.

Wrapping up the cardiologist panel was Wenner, the youngest of the doctors. Having volunteered for Save a Child’s Heart in Israel before entering his cardiology program, Wenner had a firsthand connection with SACH’s work. But the focus of his talk was COVID-19 and the heart. One of the most important takeaways was the importance of continuing to take heart medications appropriately and regularly to maintain health regardless of rumours in the media about contraindication with COVID. One of the other points Wenner made was that people should go to the hospital if necessary. “Based on the raw data, in March and April … the overall death rate, excluding COVID patients, was significantly higher and the best theory for that is that people were staying home with their acute cardiac and other conditions,” explained Wenner.

JNF Pacific Region president Bernice Carmeli concluded the evening with a more detailed explanation of the fundraising goals and the collaboration with Save a Child’s Heart.

The event proceeded with limited breaks between speakers and short comments by the moderator. “I was asked to give my best 45-minute talk in 12 minutes and I said I can’t do it, but it turned out to be my best talk,” commented Dodek.

For those who weren’t able to attend the event, most of the program was recorded and can be accessed on YouTube or by contacting Pilo at the JNF Pacific Region office, 604-257-5155 or [email protected]. More information can be found, and donations made, at jnf.ca/vancouver/campaigns/negev-campaign.

Michelle Dodek is a freelance writer, who also happens to be the daughter-in-law of the moderator (for full disclosure). Her husband, who is a doctor, says she has the medical knowledge of a third-year medical student.

Israel on lockdown

(photo from Ashernet)

Jerusalem on erev Sukkot, Oct. 2: Keren Hayesod Street (above), the Mamilla open-air mall and the First Station complex (both below). Normally, these places are full of people, especially the day before a holiday. However, for the foreseeable future, Israel is on a total lockdown – the country has one of the highest per capita COVID-19 infection rates in the world. Traffic around the country and in the cities has been exceptionally light, as people are only allowed to travel to essential work or to buy necessities at supermarkets and drugstores.

photo - The Mamilla open-air mall — The Mamilla open-air mall *(photo from Ashernet)*

photo - The First Station complex — The First Station complex *(photo from Ashernet)*

Need to value what we have

Every fall, we go apple picking. For my husband and me, it was one of our first dates, apple picking together in upstate New York. Over time, it has become a family outing, with each kid eating lots of fresh apples with the promise of applesauce and pie on the horizon. The timing is often perfect for the fall holidays, too.

This year, though, the pandemic has drastically increased unemployment. Many people are hungry. All around our (relatively well-off) neighbourhood, there are apple trees heavy with fruit. Here in Manitoba, frost is on the horizon. I have felt a huge pressure to put up food to share, and to pick more apples. This could be a long winter.

The first apple tree we helped pick was that of an elderly neighbour. She just lost her adult son, who was disabled. She was in mourning, terribly sad and frail looking, but also isolated by the pandemic. We all masked up immediately as she came out to greet us. Her smile was meaningful. Watching my kids cleaning up the fallen apples was important. She told us a visiting relative had made her pie. I got the sense she enjoyed that, as she is overwhelmed by the quantity of apples on the tree and the effort required to make anything from them for herself, these days.

A couple days later, I dropped off four 125-millilitre (four-ounce) canning jars of applesauce and a takeout container with two generous slices of apple pie. We canned pints of applesauce, made pie and apple chips for lunches. We still had way too many apples. We took a trip to the food bank and my husband donated 100 pounds (45 kilograms) of apples, more or less, at the self-serve donation bin. He also saw squash and other large amounts of produce from Winnipeg’s gardeners and I was relieved. It sounds like our mayor’s encouragement to citizens to grow more vegetables might have worked.

A couple weeks passed. We didn’t think we had more apple tree picking on our schedule as school approached. I continued studying Talmud as I had time. In Eruvin 29, there is a section that discusses what kinds of food should be given to the poor. The list is specific, including nuts, peaches, pomegranates and a citron. It stipulates that support for the poor should offer them dignity. In essence, poor people should have access to the same kinds of good foods as everyone else. Also, the food should be luxurious enough so that, if they were to sell it, it might be equivalent to two meals of something else. The food support should be dignified. It should offer poor people the same autonomy to choose, as anyone else might.

We received an email from another neighbour. Her apple tree had grown a lot of fruit this year. She still had a lot of apples left. Did we want to come?

We began to pick what looked like an untouched, heavily laden tree. It had so many low-hanging apples that my 9-year-old twins and I easily reached up to pick many with our hands. Again, we picked far more than we could use. The apples were so ripe though, that we had a lot of “drops.” These are the apples that fall when you jostle a branch even slightly – you just can’t catch them all.

We make the drops into applesauce or apple chips, but bruised apples have to be processed quickly. You don’t want to donate them to the food bank. I remembered this part of Eruvin, which reminds us that the best produce, not the bruised ones, should go to the hungry. Meanwhile, I tired of pleading with my boys to be careful, that they were wasting food. To them, it was just a bruised apple.

I tried to help them see it differently – to imagine it as the apple in a kid’s lunch. You’d be hungry without it. Days later, we are still processing bruised apples, but donated at least 100 more pounds of nice apples to the food bank. The tree’s owner asked us to come back again if we could manage it before the first frost.

At the end of Eruvin 29 and the beginning of the next page, Eruvin 30, there’s a reminder that we can’t allow the customary practices of the wealthy to be the ruling for everyone, including the poor. The way it’s explained is through the roasted meat that Persians eat (the wealthy are extravagant) and the fact that even a small scrap of fabric is valuable to the poor, so it matters if it should become impure or soiled.

During the pandemic, we’re all now wearing masks – small amounts of fabric that were previously considered waste. I made many kids’ masks from cotton shirting fabric I’d bought long ago, sold in small rectangles as discount samples. This experience is a reminder that is reinforced at this time of year – although we often live in a “land of plenty,” Yom Kippur helps us remember what it is to be hungry. Sukkot reminds us to value harvest. Scraps of fabric and apples make a difference. We can pick the apples before they fall, and offer others the same gorgeous produce that we take for granted.

In some ways, the Talmud seems ancient, but, thousands of years later, issues around disease, hunger and waste are still relevant. It’s great to have “roasted meat,” but even fabric scraps and bruised apples are important. It’s a Jewish thing to try to be grateful and value small things, even though we might have been tempted to waste them. We can use every fabric scrap and apple – and we should, because, as Rav Abaye notes, not everyone can afford lush roasted meat meals.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Ends and beginnings

As we come to the end of the High Holy Days, we set ourselves on paths of new beginnings. On Simchat Torah, we mark both a beginning and an end. The cycle of Torah reading ends and then immediately begins again. It is said that we read the same passages of the Torah every week, every year, but the meanings change because we are different people year after year, experiencing life and the world with different eyes and, hopefully, with increased wisdom.

The Days of Awe are a time of critical introspection. This period of teshuvah invites us to recognize our shortcomings and commit to improvement. This mission is both individual and collective. As a people, we are obligated to repair the world, and this year calls on us with no shortage of issues to collectively confront: inequality and suffering, environmental degradation, inhumane treatment of animals, the pursuit of justice.

On the latter front, our cousins in the United States are absorbed in a drama around the appointment of the next justice of the Supreme Court and things that he may have done many years ago. The senators considering his nomination heard two irreconcilable narratives last week from the accuser and the accused. The testimony from Dr. Christine Blasey Ford echoes the testimonies of so many people, mostly women but also men, who have felt empowered, motivated or obligated to share their most personal experiences in what has become known as the “#MeToo era.”

Yet the senators’ motivations hinge on more than determining who is telling the truth. Political considerations – advancing President Donald Trump’s second Supreme Court nominee to the bench before the November midterm elections – seem to be the factor front of mind for some elected officials, regardless of Blasey Ford’s testimony. It seems clear that politics may trump justice in this case.

Politics in Canada is not as brash as that in the United States, but populist and exclusionary ideas may be finding a voice here that they did not have before. A new federal political party seems prepared to amplify views that, until recently, were more limited to online discussions and whispered conversations. Meanwhile, the party that won Monday’s provincial election in Québec mooted during the election campaign the idea of throwing out newcomers who do not gain an adequate grasp of the French language within three years of arrival. Unconstitutional as such a policy may be, even voicing such ideas brings us to a new chapter in Canadian public life.

Immigration and refugees are a perennial issue, with the nature of a society at the heart of the discussion. The groups of people at the centre of the discussion – immigrants and refugees – change generation by generation. In this era, Jewish Canadians have an opportunity to bring hard-learned wisdoms to the debate. The federal government is set to formally apologize next month for a most egregious historical example of exclusion: the rejection of the passengers on the MS St. Louis. Indeed, this memory should inform our reaction to the current discussion and the realities for the millions of displaced people and refugees fleeing conflict around the world.

Personal experiences inform our political ideologies. And, through our personal actions, we can affect political affairs. This can be in obvious ways – like showing up to vote in the municipal elections on Oct. 20 or in advance polls – or in more subtle but profound ways, like educating the next generation, modeling the values we hope to advance and creating ripples of goodness across our circles of influence.

In matters of public policy and in the more private ways we behave in our lives, the holy days remind us to take stock of our own role in advancing justice and a better world.

We may feel insignificant in the grand scheme. How can we affect the powers in the White House or in Ottawa or around the world? But Jewish tradition is clear. “It is not your responsibility to finish the work [of perfecting the world], but you are not free to desist from it either,” said the Mishnaic sage Rabbi Tarfon.

Inward reflection is the first and easiest step we can take as individuals to address faults in our world. Based on this reflection, we may choose to move to action. Where it will end, we cannot always tell at the beginning. But it is our job to get the ball rolling.

Looking for new Jewish ideas

By the time you read this, our big run of fall Jewish High Holidays will be over. However, I’m still gathering up bits and pieces about it. What did I experience? What worked out and what didn’t? This isn’t a yes or no question, it’s complex. It takes time to process the intensity of what I learned.

Like many parents with kids, I don’t attend a full complement of adult religious services. Even if I didn’t have younger children, we’d still have to find dress clothes for everyone and make sure holiday meals are ready, never mind actually working for a living. Every fall is a juggling act. Will it work out smoothly? Sometimes it is good planning. Sometimes, it’s luck.

This year, I managed to access several sermons, done by various rabbis I know and respect. Some were published to the internet on the day after the holiday. Others were live-streamed.

Via the internet, I read the Rosh Hashanah sermons of a Long Island rabbi with whom I have studied and become friendly over the past year or two. Rabbi Susan Elkodsi shared several of her sermons as blog posts after the holiday. One sermon covered the confluence of 9/11 with the High Holidays. The other talked about how we connect with our ancestors over the New Year period, and how the “who will live and who will die” metaphor becomes alive for many.

For me, both of these topics struck home. My family in New York City and in D.C. lived through 9/11. Also, every time I sing the holiday Kiddush, it is as though I hear my grandfather, z”l, singing it. He sang it at my family’s holiday table, and he taught me to do it as a young adult. On erev Rosh Hashanah this year, I could hear his voice in my ear, although he died long ago. Thanks to those sermons, I have some Jewish historic context for two strong emotional memories.

Elkodsi’s next blog post covered a “water-optional” version of Tashlich, when people gather to throw their sins or breadcrumbs into the water. She described how Tashlich might be the time to clean up or discard the things that are holding us back or for which we can no longer find a use. In a sense, it’s a “KonMari” cleaning method for our lives. This, too, found resonance with me. I used it as unconscious encouragement – my kids and I cleaned up their art shelf, play room and living room toys before Yom Kippur. This mess weighed me down. Together, we cast it off to have a better start to 5779.

This year, even though we didn’t travel there, we heard Kol Nidre, sung in Virginia, and saw my father, as a past president, holding a Torah on the pulpit of my family’s congregation. How did we pull that off?

On erev Yom Kippur, my kids got into their pajamas. We read stories and got ready for bed. At exactly 7:30 p.m. CT, we started live-streaming the Temple Rodef Shalom Kol Nidre late service. My kids worried that the Torah was too heavy for their grandfather. (I did, too.) Later, my mom told me that past presidents on either side of my dad were spotting for him, and that my dad also recognized that this would probably be the last year he could do this. Torahs are heavy. Nobody wants to drop one. We felt the power of connecting with family, seeing my father do a mitzvah, and something difficult, at a big holiday service.

My kids made it until about 8:15, staying up through the Kol Nidre prayer and the first part of the service before they fell asleep. Using headphones, I listened to the rest of the service until, for some reason, I couldn’t access the live-streaming anymore. By then, I’d heard about how we should see teshuvah (repentance) through the eyes of a failing U.S. criminal justice system. It’s hard to balance the needs of victims, cope with crime and also give people who’ve made mistakes a second chance. Rabbi Jeffrey Saxe, a victim of violent crime, gave the sermon. He explained his social action efforts to advocate for reform with an interfaith clergy group that meets with Virginia’s governor.

I’m mentioning the positive things I can fit in one column. Sometimes accessing diverse voices, from every movement, with different Jewish experiences, enriches our observance. There’s no way my body could have been in synagogue in Manitoba, New York and Virginia. The traveling would have been torture, never mind the cost! However, my mind traveled. This helped me think about new things for 5779.

Some say that the High Holidays are the most important days of the Jewish year, but I’d argue that they are the most intense. Shabbat every week is important. All the other holidays have value, too. The thing about rituals, traditions and observance is that they don’t have an on/off switch. If we shift ourselves just a little, attend a different Jewish service, listen to a new sermon or approach things differently, we can have a startlingly new experience.

Most people attend one congregation all the time, hear one or two rabbis’ sermons and rarely see something new. It’s a lot of effort to break routines. Change is hard. However, every day is an opportunity to look up and find new things in our Jewish landscape. Sometimes, a slight shift in how we see our rituals (dog walks, meditations, synagogue services) can change the way we see the whole world. It’s going to take me time to sort through what I learned and what changed. I hope you, too, can take that time to gain something new, to learn something about the Jewish world, through this kind of exploration.

Joanne Seiff writes regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. See more about her at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Sukkot in Jerusalem

A Canadian delegation was among some 6,000 participants in the International Christian Embassy’s annual Sukkot march through the centre of Jerusalem last week. (photo from Ashernet)

Striving and building more

I wanted to share an interesting issue I stumbled into while reading online. It was in a Jewish discussion group. The short version (without violating anyone’s privacy) was that one person would be having surgery in the days before Yom Kippur. She was struggling with the concept that she couldn’t fast, as she had to be eating and drinking frequently, in small amounts, after the surgery.

It took me a while to figure this post out. This was bigger than the observance of a specific commandment. This was a person who was having a weight-loss procedure. Her issues around food were likely larger than fasting on Yom Kippur. The people in the discussion group emphasized how important the surgery was to her long-term health. (Nobody embarrassed her by asking difficult questions.) Meanwhile, another person in the group was having shoulder surgery. She worried about how she would hold a prayer book. This seemed easier to solve, as it was a physical and not a psychological issue. Suggestions flew across the web: a music stand, a lectern, a friend who could help, etc.

As a kid, growing up in the Reform movement, there was a great emphasis put on fasting on Yom Kippur. Fasting was a sign that you were really invested in the holiness of the day. Yet, this wasn’t something done on other fast days, or even in terms of other mitzvot (commandments). My family was involved in the Jewish community every day, but, on Yom Kippur, I remember seeing people at our congregation putting a big energy into fasting that I hardly saw at other times of the year.

When I was in university and when I met my husband, I was introduced to people with many other ways of observing Jewish tradition (or not). His family is everything from secular to Lubavitch, with every variation in between. He pointed out that, if you’re sick, a rabbi would tell you not to fast. He pointed out that, in his extended family, there were people who fasted but did not attend synagogue, and those who attended synagogue daily, but couldn’t fast for health reasons. He reminded me that this isn’t clear-cut, even if it initially looks that way.

When we learn about Judaism, often as kids before bar or bat mitzvah age, we’re presented with a lot of information in binaries. It’s black and white, but that is also the way most grade school children absorb any new information, not just Jewish content. As we age, we learn that, in fact, the world is often more complex. It’s often multiple variations of grey (never mind chartreuse) instead.

Health issues, child rearing, our work lives – these all affect how we observe holidays. There is no universal measuring stick that indicates how this works, either. Things change over our lives, and having kids or an illness can affect our observances. Some people fast easily, and others build sukkot (temporary hut dwellings) without a fuss. Others cannot fast without serious issues, and I’d bet there are plenty of people in the Jewish community who hesitate, for one reason or another, to erect a sukkah on their own.

The thing that hopefully does remain constant, for everyone, is the emphasis on striving to be better people in the year to come. Wherever you are, in your Jewish practice, or in the way you treat others, or in your business dealings, you can probably grow and improve. We can choose to make change in our lives.

There are, of course, people out there who are Jewish but don’t think about mitzvot, attend any synagogue or fast. However, some of these same people may pride themselves in being ethical in their business, in how they treat others, or in how they treat animals. They may not even realize that these, too, are Jewish values.

There are also so many ways in which these are particular Jewish concerns that link us to other faith communities. One of the pillars of Islam is jihad and, no, it’s not all about holy war. For faithful Muslims, this concept is about striving – striving to be a better student, family member or worker, to be more religious or spiritual, and onwards. Christians often speak about love, but also it must be put into action. It’s work to make compassionate acts towards others a priority, no matter your religion.

Whatever your community, you can offer others a supportive presence that helps them become the people they aim to be. It’s in a community, whether it’s physical or an online discussion group, that we can unwrap our concerns and get help in solving obstacles that keep us from doing what we’d hoped in life (Jewishly, or otherwise).

I love Sukkot and am looking forward to spending time in the sukkah outdoors. However, it’s also a time to welcome people in as guests – and to build that supportive space. You may not build a sukkah or wave a lulav and etrog, but you can be a builder. Begin by supporting others as they strive towards being their best selves. It starts with a smile, a welcoming invitation or a positive response. Happy 5779! May it be everything that you hope to become!

Sukkot at the Bayit

Bayit Rabbi Levi Varnai, MLA Jas Johal, Chabad of Richmond Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman, Bayit board member Keith Liedtke, Joe Dasilva, Bayit president Michael Sachs, MLA Mike Bernier, MLA Teresa Wat and MLA John Yap. (photo by Lauren Kramer)

photo - Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman, Michael Sachs, Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver head Ezra Shanken, Mike Bernier, Rabbi Avraham Feigelstock and chief executive officer Rabbi Levi Varnai — Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman, Michael Sachs, Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver head Ezra Shanken, Mike Bernier, Rabbi Avraham Feigelstock and chief executive officer Rabbi Levi Varnai. *(photo by Lauren Krame*

On the evening of Oct. 8, the Bayit and Chabad of Richmond hosted a Sukkot carnival called Shakes in the Shack. Scores of Richmond Jewish, and non-Jewish, community members came out and enjoyed the festivities.

Sukkah more than symbolic

As we celebrate Sukkot this week, we’ll be thinking about many things – notably, how lucky the vast majority of us are to have a solid roof over our heads. For most of us, the sukkah is but a symbol of our wandering in the desert all those years ago, a symbol to remind us to be humble, empathetic, grateful. However, for many living in Metro Vancouver, including members of our own community, homelessness is a reality.

Last week, we ran a good news story from Tikva Housing Society – residents were moving into the recently completed Storeys complex in Richmond. The Diamond Residences at the Storeys will house six singles (five of whom are seniors) and 12 families. Tikva Housing is also working with various partners on the development of 32 townhouses in Vancouver, and they anticipate accepting residency applications by early 2018. These new projects are in addition to Tikva’s Dany Guincher House, in Vancouver – which has 11 units for people with low-income, people with disabilities who are independent and families fleeing abuse – and the Esther Dayson Rent Subsidy Program.

There is a lot of which to be proud. However, there is much more to do. Last year, Tikva Housing reported a decrease in donations to its rent subsidy program of more than $15,000. As a result, the organization had to decrease the monthly subsidy it provided to singles, couples and families.

According to Tikva, more than 16% of Jewish Vancouver residents – more than 4,200 people – are low-income and at least 450 Jewish children under the age of 15 in Vancouver are “living in households that depend on income assistance.” Its 2015 report on housing in Metro Vancouver concluded a need for 1,827 affordable housing units in the Jewish community, including for “those under 65, low-income singles, couples and families.” Calling this “an unreachable goal,” the report nonetheless suggests some solutions, most of which the Jewish community is already pursuing, such as rent subsidies and partnering with other agencies to develop new projects.

Yet, the problem remains. And, of course, it is not a problem unique to the Jewish community. On Sept. 26, the final report on Metro Vancouver’s 2017 Homeless Count was released. On the night of March 7, more than 1,200 volunteers conducted surveys throughout the region, on the streets and at shelters, “to obtain a 24-hour snapshot” of the situation. The final report confirmed the preliminary results – 3,605 were homeless in the metro area.

While there were four percent fewer homeless youth in 2017 as compared to 2014, there were five percent more homeless 55 and older. Overall, there was a 30% increase in homeless since 2014, “and the highest number since 2002, when the first metro-wide count occurred.”

According to the report, “The three most cited barriers to finding housing were the high cost of rent (50%), a lack of income (49%) and the lack of availability of housing that suits their needs (30%).” More than 80% of respondents reported having “at least one health condition, including addiction, mental illness, physical disability or a medical condition/illness. More than half of the respondents (52%) have two or more health conditions.” More than 40% of respondents received income assistance, 28% a disability benefit; 22% were employed.

Following the local Walk for Reconciliation on Sept. 24, where some 50,000 people – including an organized Jewish contingent – gathered downtown to join in a “call to action,” it is sobering to learn that 34% of the respondents of the Homeless Count self-identified as indigenous/aboriginal. “Indigenous people continue to represent about one-third of the homeless population in the region,” states the report, noting that it’s the highest proportion found to date in a regional count and “constitutes a strong over-representation compared to the total population, where two percent identify as aboriginal as per the 2011 Census.”

In a statement of the obvious, Mike Clay, chair of the Metro Vancouver Housing Committee, said, “In order to stem growing homelessness, it is clear we need more affordable housing options.”

But additional solutions are also needed, given the systematic discrimination that still exists for First Nations people and the health conditions many of the homeless are facing – and not only the homeless. Just last week, the Independent ran an article on the impact of addiction in our community. Jewish Addiction Community Service (JACS) Vancouver estimates that as many as 5,000 Jews in our community need support, “whether grappling with their own addiction issues or the addiction of a loved one.”

The Homeless Count’s findings most likely underestimate the problem. The report references the “hidden” homeless, which includes people “who do not have a regular address of their own where they have security of tenure, and who may be staying temporarily in another household – often called ‘couch surfing.’” The Tikva Housing press release about the new tenants at Storeys noted, “One 83-year-old woman cried when she was told she would be moving into a studio unit, as she has not had a place to live for years and was sleeping on someone’s couch.”

Then there are the tens of thousands of people at risk of becoming homeless. Apparently, housing shouldn’t account for more than 30% of a person’s or family’s gross income, yet the Homeless Count report notes there were 56,000 Metro Vancouver households in 2006 that spent more than 50% of their income on shelter, and the number had increased to 62,355 by 2011. (More recent data weren’t available but, based on skyrocketing housing costs, we can guess that the number of households spending 50% or more of their income on shelter has also increased.)

There is much to contemplate as we gather in our sukkot this week. And, once the holidays are over, once we celebrate Simchat Torah, thankful for the Jewish texts and traditions that have shaped the moral compass of even the most secular of us in some way, there is a lot of work to be done.

Mayor visits the Bayit

On Oct. 19, Richmond Mayor Malcolm Brodie, second from the right, joined the Bayit’s celebration of Sukkot. He is pictured here with, from the left, Michael Sachs, Bayit president; Miki Fadida, sponsor of the Fadida Family Sukkah; Rabbi Levi Varnai, spiritual leader of the Bayit; and Moshe Fadida. The mayor discussed the local Jewish community, as well as some of the challenges facing young families. (photo from the Bayit)