Pat Johnson and Dr. Sheree Trotter at the University of Victoria on June 14, hosted by the Jewish Federation of Victoria and Vancouver Island. (photo by Janet Dirks)
“What we’ve seen happen in New Zealand with our indigenous movement is that Palestine has been held up as a way to fight against what’s happening in our country with our indigenous people,” New Zealand writer and academic Dr. Sheree Trotter told those gathered at the University of Victoria on June 14.
“So, what we do is that we identify with the Palestinians and we see them as brown, oppressed indigenous people; we see Israel as the Western foreign colonizers.” In this context, she said, the antizionist argument is reduced to one of settler colonialism, despite the differing histories of places like New Zealand, Canada and Palestine.
At the Victoria event, which was hosted by the Jewish Federation of Victoria and Vancouver Island, Trotter, who is of Te Arawa iwi origin, spoke on the topic Indigeneity and Zionism Versus Settler Colonialism.
“Each of these topics could be a whole university course,” Trotter acknowledged at the outset. Before talking about Zionism, she explained its standard definition: the right of self-determination and statehood for Jews in their ancestral homeland, the land of Israel.
Trotter said there have been several streams of thought that have led to the current antizionist movement, including the views of the Nazis, who saw Jews as conspiratorial subversives, and Soviet antizionism, which depicted Zionism as a global and racist conspiracy. Added to the mix, Trotter said, are Arab nationalist and Islamic movements and, more recently, Western settler-colonial theory.
Settler colonialism, Trotter said, is an ideology that has developed within academia as a particular kind of colonialism. The key feature of it is an imperial power that has sent its people to a foreign land to settle permanently.
“In this way, you create this binary that you’ve got two classes of people. You may call it the oppressor and the oppressed, the colonizer or the colonized, these sorts of ideas. This binary erases complexity. It’s not accurate. It’s not true to history,” Trotter said.
Using the example of the Māori in New Zealand, Trotter explained some of the problems in the settler-colonialist argument.
“There’s no room for nuance or complexity, no room for indigenous agency – the fact that, in my case, Māori embraced many of the new things that came, new technologies, modernity, certainly literacy,” she said. “In embracing Christianity, Māori turned away from tribal warfare, from cannibalism, from slavery, because they adopted a new way of thinking. Under settler colonialism, you don’t get to hear any of the good things that might have happened. It’s all just labeled as oppression and bad.”
More broadly, she argued, the settler-colonialist theory does not fully consider that many of the people who arrived in places like Canada and New Zealand were poor immigrants who do not fit the settler-colonialist power paradigm.
Regarding Israel, the settler-colonial standpoint is a tremendous stretch, said Trotter, because Jews, with more than 3,500 years of continuous connection to the land, are not foreign to Israel.
“In Māori thinking, we have a concept called ahikā, which means keeping the fires burning. If a tribe wanted to keep their connection to a piece of land, it would keep a fire on that land. It’s symbolic of the idea that somebody stayed on the land, even in small numbers,” she said. “Now, we’re finding the fact that there’s always been a Jewish presence in the land. Even though very small at times, they’ve kept ahikā, they’ve kept the fires burning, they’ve kept a continuous connection.”
Trotter is the co-founder, with former member of New Zealand’s House of Representatives Alfred Ngaro, of the Indigenous Embassy Jerusalem and the Indigenous Coalition for Israel, nonprofits established to provide representation in Jerusalem forindigenous peoples from around the world. Her latest book, Zionism at the Ends of the Earth: A Story of Humanitarianism and Identity, chronicles the social history of the Zionist movements in New Zealand to 1948.
Following her talk, Trotter sat down for an interview and to answer audience questions with journalist Pat Johnson, a member of the Jewish Independent editorial board and founder of Upstanders Canada, an organization working to encourage non-Jewish Canadians to take a stand against antisemitism and antizionism.
The event attracted some protest. According to organizers, the technician who was scheduled to work that evening walked off the job before the event started because of their objection to the subject matter. And, in the middle of Trotter’s talk, a few members of the Jewish Faculty Network of Vancouver Island held up signs rejecting claims of Jewish indigeneity in the Middle East and protesting Israel’s military actions; the group was escorted out of the auditorium without incident.
Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.
On May 17, Tafsik Organization and Stop Antizionism hosted a full-day World Symposium Against Antizionism. With justifiable pride, the organizers declared that this was the first conference in the world specifically dedicated to combating antizionism. Keynote speaker was Ben Shapiro, co-founder of The Daily Wire, along with Gad Saad, Eve Barlow, Leora Shemesh and a packed A-list of inspiring Jewish leaders from around the world.
The fire of Jew-hatred has been ravaging the Jewish community across our country, and elsewhere, and absolutely every option must be considered to put it out. At the same time, I wonder, What if this conference had been organized around the topic of Zionism, where these same speakers focused on all the many visions, projects and ways that Jews everywhere could support the cause of Zionism?
Whether you identify more with Zionism, Jewish peoplehood, Israel or Judaism, if we really want to declare war on antizionism and antisemitism, I think it is by embracing everything that makes us proud to be Jewish and to live Jewishly. For every action each of us takes to combat antisemitism/antizionism, imagine the impact if we also did an equal action that deepens our Jewish identity. Consider it a one-to-one combating antisemitism, promoting Zionism challenge.
As Canadian Jews, we have endured longstanding discrimination. Many of us remain vigilant, knowing our lives will be shaped by the latest surge of“protesters” in Jewish neighbourhoods, or by flash mobs of such protesters at Toronto subway stations or at public forums like Phillips Square in Montreal. where effigies were hung.
When, in Vancouver, someone sets fire to the entrance of Schara Tzedeck Synagogue and the Jewish Federation of BC reports that 62% of Jewish community members have experienced at least one antisemitic incident, wearing Jewish symbols in public is an act of pride and defiance against any of our fellow Canadians who secretly, or openly, hate us for being Jews.
Even before Oct. 7, 2023, B’nai Brith recorded that, in Canada, in 2021, for the sixth consecutive year, records were set for antisemitic incidents in the country, reaching 2,799 that year. In their recently released 2025 Annual Audit of Antisemitic Incidents, B’nai Brith found there were 6,800 incidents of antisemitism documented that year.
Zach Bodner, chief executive officer of the Palo Alto Jewish community centre and the head of the Zionism 3.0 movement, declares: “We have to stop pretending that anti-antisemitism will keep Judaism alive for the next generation…. We have to stop believing that fighting against antizionism will keep our kids loving Israel.”
Rabbi David Hartman, in his 1982 essay “Auschwitz or Sinai?” challenges us to examine if we will live our Judaism shaped by trauma, persecution and hatred, or if will we be shaped by covenant, responsibility and moral purpose. “It was not Hitler who brought us back to Zion, but rather belief in the eternal validity of the Sinai covenant,” he wrote.
Recently, as a simple test, I went to the Jewish Independent archives and clicked on the antisemitism tag, I found 45 pages of articles. When I went to the Zionism tag, I found only four, but the tag for Israel had 111 pages, while antizionism/anti-Zionism had three pages of results combined.
I then decided to compare the number of articles published in 2026 between the antisemitism and Israel tags. I found about 30 articles in the former and roughly 25 in the latter. Of those 25 Israel stories published in 2026, at least four dealt with antisemitism and included that tag search as well. Of the 21 remaining Israel articles, most could be construed as some form of cultural connection, solidarity with or interest in Israel, more than enough to classify as Zionism.
While close in number, so far in 2026, antisemitism stories are outpacing stories about Israel and/or Zionism. I have no doubt this same test could be used with any other Canadian Jewish publication, with similar findings.
I’m sure we can agree that there is so much more we can do to inspire ourselves and pass the torch from Sinai to our future generations, rather than allow so much of our creative and intellectual drive and energy to be focused on those who hate us.
We are living in the aftermath of 1948, the year when we Jews finally transformed the seemingly impossible dream of reestablishing statehood into reality. We have a strong North American Jewish community and representative organizations that make us an undeniable political force.
With these resources that were unimaginable to previous generations of Jews, we have new goals to set, new visions to dream, new swamps to drain, new heights to achieve – as Jews.
So, I ask every one of you reading this: What inspires you about being Jewish? What about Judaism, Zionism or Israel inspires you? What leads you to live a Jewish life and gives you strength during tough times? What drives you to be the best Jew you want to be?
For every statement, action, rally or event you attend where you roar with defiance against our haters, please take a moment to express why you are the Jew you are; how you live Jewishly; and why you are proudly part of the Jewish nation. Your words, your ideas, your vision can and will inspire many others.
Alan Hermanhas lived in Israel twice, including when attending Ben-Gurion University, where he completed his master’s degree in Middle Eastern studies. He participated in the Quebec-Israel Committee’s parliamentary program in Montreal, and organized many Israel and Zionism related events as a co-chair for the Toronto chapter of the Canadian Institute for Jewish Research from 2013 to 2025. He is a proud member of the board of Upstanders Canada.
BC students at the StandWithUs conference in Las Vegas March 15-18 included, left to right, Adar Latak, Alexis Moscovitz and Ethan Doctor. (photo by Pat Johnson)
What happens in Las Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegas. That was the defiant message from Roz Rothstein, the chief executive officer and co-founder of StandWithUs, as she welcomed about 1,000 Jewish and pro-Israel high school and college students, alumni, activists and assorted allies to the organization’s conference in the Nevada city, March 15 to 18. They assembled to become more informed and empowered, to return to their campuses and communities to advance the fight against antisemitism and antizionism.
Among the delegates were about 100 Canadians, including 15 BC students, as well as Vancouverite Zara Nybo, StandWithUs Canada’s campus and high school manager for Western Canada.
StandWithUs, a pro-Israel advocacy and education organization, provides leadership training and educational programs to students at hundreds of schools, as well as operating many other initiatives, including legal supports for Jewish and pro-Israel individuals and groups.
Among the BC students were four Leventhal high school interns and 10 Emerson fellows, who are part of the organization’s college and university track, Nybo said.
Students are selected based on demonstrated leadership in pro-Israel activism. They attend two immersive educational international conferences like the Vegas meeting during their year of service and are required to initiate several Israel-related programs in their communities or on campus.
Delegates heard from a roster of noted speakers in plenary sessions and more intimate, often hands-on breakout sessions.
The intensive morning to late-night schedule included speakers like New York Times columnist Bret Stephens; singer, dancer and online influencer Montana Tucker; sociologist David Hirsh, who is head of the London Centre for the Study of Contemporary Antisemitism; Loay Alshareef, a Saudi-born activist who advocates for normalization with Israel; Luai Ahmed, a Yemeni-Swedish journalist; Oct. 7 survivors, including Omer Shem Tov, who was held hostage for 505 days; and scores of others.
New York Times columnist Bret Stephens (photo by Pat Johnson)
Stephens, the New York Times columnist, spoke of the revolutionary impact the potential fall of the Iranian regime could have on regional and global affairs but also warned of unintended consequences.
“Regime change is not at all easy,” he said. “There are all kinds of imponderables.”
The state could spiral into chaos and even more bloody and brutal repression than the government has already brought down on anti-regime protesters, he said.
“I do think there is, in fact, quite a plausible scenario [of regime change] – not now, not during this war, but in six months or a year – if [it’s] a militarily crippled and humiliated regime that is still under sanctions, still cannot pay its bills, cannot pay its civil servants, cannot pay its soldiers,” said Stephens.
Iranian street activists, he said, need to “kick this regime when it’s down.”
“If anyone can do it, 90 million Iranians, 88% of whom, at least, despise the regime and had the courage to come out and cheer when the late ayatollah was killed … I think that that creates conditions in which I can see it happen,” he said.
Ahmed spoke of his ideological and physical journey from being an antisemitic young man in Yemen to a new life in Sweden advancing coexistence with Jews.
“It is our duty as reformist Arab Muslims to stand with our Israeli and Iranian brothers and sisters to reject radical Islam, to fight radical Islam,” he said. “It is our duty to fight the terrorists who occupied my country, who believe that firing ballistic missiles at Jews is more important than feeding the starving population of Yemen.
“Radical Islam occupied Iran, Yemen, Lebanon, Gaza,” he said. “Radical Islam married my mother off at the age of 8. Radical Islam is our problem and, today, I stand here as a Yemeni who was taught to hate Jews. And I’m telling you something that radical Islamists fear the most: Jews and Israel are not our enemies.”
Alshareef shared a similar transformation.
“I used to be hardcore antizionist,” he said. “I used to be deeply antisemitic. In my local mosque, I repeated after my imams, ‘Death to Israel, death to Jews, death to Zionists,’ without ever having met a Jew or a Zionist before. Today, thank God, I no longer believe in that cancerous ideology that not only impacts the Jewish community, but it also impacts my community as well.… A society that learns to hate Jews more than loving our own children is not a healthy society.”
Loay Alshareef, a Saudi-born activist who advocates for normalization with Israel. (photo by Pat Johnson)
After Oct. 7, 2023, Alshareef decided to visit Israel.
“I learned that the Jewish community and Israelis were desperate for peace, that the vast majority of Jews and Israelis do not want war with us,” he said. “They want peace, and they are very desperate for this peace. That is something that no one had ever told me until I went to Israel myself to see the truth. I then took it upon myself to try to hammer this newfound truth to my friends and family members. And, since then, I’ve been creating content, sharing the hidden truths about Israelis and Jews that my society either dismisses or is completely unaware of.”
Students shared their experiences with antisemitism and bias from teachers, administrators and fellow students. A high school student explained how he helped get an ahistoric and antisemitic handout removed from his school’s curriculum – it had gone unchallenged since 1998. In plenaries and breakouts, individuals shared personal experiences of harassment, discrimination and loss of friendships.
StandWithUs does not only educate but also uses the law to seek fair outcomes in cases of discrimination.
The conference heard from Yael Lerman, founding director of Saidoff Law, a legal arm of StandWithUs, which includes a team of attorneys backed by a network of hundreds of pro bono lawyers and law firms.
“Imagine being a Jewish student in a high school where there are very few other Jewish kids,” Lerman said. “Day after day, classmates taunt you. They call you ‘dirty Jew’ and ‘Zio,’ they send antisemitic messages. Sometimes, they shove you or punch you. You never know when the next message or the next attack is coming. The school knows about it. Nothing changes. Then you reach out to StandWithUs Saidoff Law. Our attorneys step in. We represent you, we fight for you, and we win. We secure a transfer to a new school, and the original school must pay for it for the rest of your time in high school.”
No student should ever face antisemitism alone, Lerman said.
“Since Oct. 7, we’ve seen a dramatic rise in legal complaints, not only on campuses, but across everyday community spaces,” she continued.
“Recently, one man went to pick up a clothing order at a store where he had been a loyal customer for several years. The clerk looked at his kippa and muttered, ‘You Jews think you can get everything you want.’
“Later that day, he received an email telling him he was banned from the store and the entire chain. So, he reported the incident to StandWithUs. Our lawyer filed a complaint with the appropriate government agency and negotiated a settlement. The store had to lift the ban and compensate him. That is what accountability looks like,” said Lerman.
The conference heard diverse emotional testimonies.
Shem Tov shared the harrowing story of dancing at the Nova festival and, minutes later, being thrown in the back of a pickup truck and transported across the border into Gaza, beginning a nightmarish ordeal of 505 days of being shuttled between locations and then confined in underground labyrinths. For 50 consecutive days, at one point, he was held in complete darkness in a cell where he could not stand up.
“They used to abuse me physically and mentally,” he said of his captors. “There wasn’t any human interaction, I would say.”
Shem Tov was held in near-starvation even as he saw piled boxes of United Nations-supplied rations.
His captors once took him to a house above a tunnel that had been rigged with explosives and told him he would be forced to trigger an explosive blast when Israeli soldiers entered the boobytrapped structure. When they threatened to kill him if he refused, Shem Tov told them they could shoot him, but he would not do it.
After Shem Tov’s presentation, hundreds of students rushed to the front of the hall, surrounding the former hostage and dancing ecstatically as music blared and massive screens declared: “We are dancing again.”
The executive director of StandWithUs Australia, Michael Gencher, led a memorial for the 15 victims murdered during a Hanukkah celebration at Bondi Beach last Dec. 14.
Sami Steigmann, a child survivor of the Holocaust, spoke of the series of flukes and strokes of luck that saved his life.
In addition to Canada and all regions of the United States, student delegations came from Europe, Latin America and Australia. Due to war-related airspace closures, only two delegates were able to travel from Israel for the event.
BC delegates spoke to the Independent about their experiences.
Adar Latak, a University of Victoria psychology student in his final year, said he gained confidence at the conference and made important connections.
“You’re meeting Jews from around the world, and that’s beautiful,” he said. “It’s easy to get brought down by everything, and coming here really lifts your spirits. You’re with other Jews, you’re all facing the same thing, and you’re all talking about it, and you’re giving each other advice and tips, and it is really just a beautiful thing.”
Alexis Moscovitz, a second-year physical and health education student, also at the University of Victoria, echoed Latak’s sense of community.
“Obviously, everybody has different experiences, but it’s all basically the same,” she said. “We’re all fighting antisemitism on our campuses and so, having a support system, amazing staff here, it’s just amazing to be able to be with people that you know are experiencing the same things.”
Vancouverite Ethan Doctor, a Langara College student, has faced threats on campus, including being followed and intimidated by a group of masked and keffiyeh-clad activists. His experience as an Emerson Fellow helped him navigate the college bureaucracy, seeking appropriate security and prevention steps.
“If it wasn’t for organizations like StandWithUs, I wouldn’t know how to properly deal with it and wouldn’t know the proper steps to take,” said Doctor. “I am just eternally grateful to organizations like this.”
Michael Dickson, executive director of StandWithUs Israel, left, speaks with Omer Shem Tov, who was held hostage in Gaza for 505 days. (photo by Pat Johnson)
Jesse Primerano, executive director of StandWithUs Canada, told the Independent his group’s role is to help young pro-Israel activists, but also people of all ages, find their voices.
“In many cases, they don’t feel comfortable with the facts, to engage with people who are coming at them very aggressively,” he said. “So, our job is to help them understand the facts and how to communicate them to people who disagree.”
Earlier, Primerano briefed the convention on the state of affairs in Canada.
“We look back on times [of] the Holocaust, and I think what we said for many generations was that, as long as our government didn’t turn on us, we would be safe in the countries that we live,” he said. “And, you know, since Oct. 7, antisemitism has become emboldened in a way in Canada that it feels like our politicians know the only way to stay in office is to take an anti-Israel position.
“So, we’ve seen our mayor of Toronto be unwilling to come to an Oct. 7 vigil, unwilling to come to an Israeli flag-raising,” Primerano continued. “Our prime minister in Canada said that he would arrest Bibi [Israel’s Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu] should he come to Canada. He put an arms embargo on Israel and, most importantly, as I’m sure many of you are aware, he rewarded Hamas with support for the establishment of a Palestinian state.
“That type of rhetoric and action from our government has spilled into the streets because it has emboldened those who are willing to take shots at the Jewish community. And I mean that both literally and figuratively. Just [days earlier] in Toronto, we had three synagogues that were shot overnight in four days,” he said.
StandWithUs partners with many different groups, Primerano said, but because they work extensively with university students, some people might wonder how they fit with agencies like Hillel.
“Hillel is, in many ways, the voice on campus,” he said. “They are the coordinators of Jewish life. Their goal and their work and their ultimate obligation is to bring Jewish students and their allies together. Our job is, once those students are together, to help supplement the work that Hillel is doing with Israel education, with helping awareness towards antisemitism. Hillel has a wide array of responsibilities that go far beyond just advocacy. Our job is to supplement their work, to work with them as a partner and bring our resources into their space while they bring the students here to meet our resources.”
At the Vegas conference, StandWithUs unveiled SWUBOT, a free, downloadable artificial intelligence tool providing at-the-fingertips information on Israel, antisemitism and activism.
StandWithUs was marking 25 years since Rothstein founded the group with her husband, Jerry Rothstein, who is the organization’s chief operating officer, and Esther Renzer, who is the president.
A massive 94% of Canadian Jews support the right of Israel to exist as a Jewishstate. However, according to University of Toronto sociologist Robert Brym, who conducted the survey of 600 respondents, only 51% of those call themselves “Zionists.”
In the National Post this month, Brym took aim at those he says have weaponized his work, including the group Independent Jewish Voices and Avi Lewis, who is running for the leadership of the federal New Democratic Party. Lewis and IJV have claimed, based on an apparent deliberate misreading of Brym’s study, that 49% of Canadian Jews are not Zionists.
Brym calls that “gaslighting.”
When asked “Do you support the right of Israel to exist as a Jewish state?” 94% of respondents answered “yes” – in a word, they are Zionist. However, in another question, about how they personally identified, 51% of Jewish Canadians affirm they are Zionist, 15% “express ambivalence” about referring to themselves as Zionist, 7% say they “don’t know” and 27% say they are not Zionist. Just 1% describe themselves as “anti-Zionist.”
Intellectually honest politicians and organizations should not engage in misrepresenting Jewish Canadians’ actual views and the diminishment of their overwhelming emotional, spiritual, familial and other connections to Israel and its right to exist.
Here is something we should be pondering: How has a word and an idea that reflects the manifestation of Jewish self-determination, freedom, actualization and civilizational achievement become so sullied that almost half of Jews hesitate or refuse to identify with it?
In some ways, it is understandable. Before Israel became a state in 1948, Zionism as a contemporary political movement was the outgrowth of Theodor Herzl’s late-19th-century idea of a separate Jewish homeland. Since 1948, and the existence of Israel as a nation-state, the term Zionism has been associated with a tangible country, with a military, a government, and the flaws and foibles that accompany all nation-states. Zionism has come to mean, in some eyes, a vast range of concepts, including actions, good or bad (but, for the purposes of Lewis and groups like IJV, almost always bad), of the government of Israel.
This contradiction between the strict meaning of the term as it is defined in the political sphere and the broad application of it by bad actors is part of the reason many Jews are hesitant to adopt the descriptor “Zionist.” Jews themselves may have limited knowledge around other forms and visions of Zionism that have existed, making it difficult for the average Jew to engage in a discussion that contextualizes modern-day Zionism and the fuller arc of Jewish history.
Giventhe challenges and anxieties around being Jewish in Canada (and everywhere else in the world) right now, perhaps it is unwise to criticize the hesitancy of half of Canadian Jews to self-identify with an unpopular term. This is especially the case when faced with nefarious discourses that align Zionism with racism, white supremacy and Naziism, and a lack of knowledge of how to respond to those charges.
This survey’s misuse seems like a line in the sand, though.
The defilement of the term “Zionist” to mean things it doesn’t mean is part of a larger trend to score political victories by moving goalposts and using language to obscure truth.
Generally, the anti-Israel narrative is founded on a sort of postmodern rejection of objective definitions and terminology. Terms like “apartheid,” “settler-colonialism,” “ethnic cleansing” and “genocide” are redefined to encompass whatever those who weaponize the terms want them to mean.
When Jews, in the form of the Jewish state, are accused of genocide, a term that had to be invented to describe the Jewish experience of mass death, it makes arguing over the adoption of the label “Zionist” seem petty. But, if there is no consensus on something so foundational to the way many Jews define ourselves and our values, we put ourselves at a disadvantage in combating an abuse of language that reduces the human dignity of the Jewish people and, worse, can have literal life-and-death consequences.
If we are going to reverse this trajectory, which threatens not just Jews but truth itself, we need to contest the manipulation of language. By proudly reclaiming the term “Zionist,” which, apparently, 94% of Canadian Jews are but either don’t know it or won’t admit it, perhaps we can build some of the resilience and strength needed to combat the fight against more destructive and deceitful redefinitions of terms.
If we are going to defend the definition of the words we use to discuss the most vital issues of our time, “Zionism” seems like a good place to start.
A postcard featuring the work “In Prayer – In War” by Polish-American artist and cartoonist Mitchell Loeb (1889-1968). (internet photo)
Of all the Jewish holidays, Hanukkah is the one most intimately connected to Israel and the Zionist dream. It mirrors the struggle to reestablish the Jewish state, and is perhaps more political in nature than religious.
Hanukkah represents Jewish military power and Jewish independence, which, in the case of the Hasmoneans, lasted 80 to 100 years. The Hasmoneans and their fellow second-century BCE Judeans were able to establish a state despite having had to face a strong and well-equipped empire. The odds were heavily stacked against them, yet they prevailed. This is why some people say that the Hanukkah story parallels the struggles and achievements of Israel’s first Jewish residents and founding pioneers, surrounded as they were by hostile neighbours.
It is hard to claim that the miracle in which a tiny bit of oil lasted, not for one day, but for eight days, is a critical part of an Israeli Hanukkah. However, oil is a crucial part of the holiday. Sufganiyot (filled donuts), fried in oil, go on sale at least a month before the first candle is lit. (I saw them on sale in a Tel Aviv bakery on Nov. 10!) Nowadays, Jerusalem coffee houses and bakeries even have their sufganiyot rated by the media.
Potato pancakes (levivot, in Hebrew; latkes, in Yiddish) take second place to sufganiyot. Perhaps because levivot are generally products of one’s private kitchen, rather than a bakery, or perhaps because, as an historically Ashkenazi Eastern European food, it appeals to only half the Jewish population in Israel. The other half is Sephardi, meaning people whose long-ago origins were in Iberia, while, in the United States, no more than 10% of the Jewish population is either Sephardi or Mizrachi (Jews who came from Muslim-ruled lands). I couldn’t find any recent figures for Canada’s Jewish population by these measures.
As for levivot, they are no longer made just with potatoes. There might be additions or substitutions like sweet potatoes or zucchini, featuring spices such as cumin and paprika.
As many know, Israel’s climate is well suited to growing olives, and olive trees have grown here for centuries. The trees like the semi-arid climate, with our long, hot, sunny summers and mild, cool winters, as well as Israel’s rocky terrain. Generally, Israeli-grown olives are ready for picking starting just before Hanukkah. There are olive-picking festivals and such events highlight another difference between diasporic and Israeliobservances of Hanukkah.
Those living in pre-state Palestine knew what Hitler was doing in Europe. According to historian Benny Morris,the Jewish population in Palestine was reading several newspapers at the time, like Ha’aretz, Davar and Do’ar ha-Yom.
The pre-1948 cultural products reflect not only what Palestinian Zionists knew about the fate of European Jewry, but also an ideological effort at creating a new national character. This “new” Jew would not be a victim. He would be a kind of new Maccabee. According to historian Reuven Firestone, the new Zionist Jew would be strong, confident and effective, and the very act of developing the land of Israel would, in turn, develop the Jewish psyche and person.
So, Hanukkah songs written in either the pre-state or early statehood days focus on the success of Zionist fighters more than they do the accomplishments of the Maccabees. In 1936, Menashe Ravina composed the song “Mi Yimalel.” Its lyrics are: “Who can retell the mighty deeds of Israel, who can count them? / In every generation a hero will arise, a redeemer for the people. / Listen! / In those days in this time / The Maccabee saves and redeems / And in our day the whole people of Israel / Will join together and arise and be redeemed.”
In the 1940s, Sara Levi Tanay wrote the words and Emanuel Amiran wrote the music for “Ba’anu Choshech Legaresh.” The idea is that, by banding together, the state can survive: “In our hands are light and fire. / Each person is a small light, / And all of us a great light. / Go away darkness, away, obscurity! / Make way for the light.”
Starting in the 1940s, the Young Maccabees organization began a torch race on Hanukkah. This race was unique to Israel’s celebration of the holiday. It began in the Modi’in area, where it is believed the Maccabees are buried, and was held in all kinds of weather. In December 1954, for example, when the runners reached Jerusalem, it was pouring rain. Israeli youth organizations like the Scouts hold marches and hikes on Hanukkah.
Ironically, the original torch races, called lampadedromia or lampas, took place in ancient Greece, as part of religious festivals honouring the gods of fire. I say ironically, as the Maccabees fought for their independence from the Syrian Greeks of the Seleucid Empire, which was a Greek successor state to Alexander the Great’s empire. The Seleucid empire, under Antiochus, ruled over Judea. It desecrated the Temple in Jerusalem and sought to forcefully impose Hellenistic culture and religion on the Jewish population.
Today, in both Israel and in the diaspora, chocolate coins, usually wrapped in gold or silver foil – the 1920s brainstorm product of Loft Chocolate Company – are given to children during Hanukkah. Probably not too many people are aware of this, but, according to Rabbi Deborah Prinz, this edible gelt (money, in Yiddish) recalls the booty, including coins, that the Maccabees distributed to Jewish widows, soldiers and orphans, possibly at the first celebration of the rededication of the Jerusalem Temple. Also, in ancient Israel, striking, minting and distributing coins expressed Hanukkah’s message of political autonomy. The Maccabees’ descendants, the Hasmoneans, ruled Judea, as mentioned above, and issued their own coins.
Finally, a column in the Great Mosque of Gaza once bore inscriptions in Hebrew and depicted a seven-branched menorah (like the one used in the Temple), a shofar and an etrog, indicating a Jewish community in the area during the Roman/Byzantine and talmudic eras. These inscriptions apparently disappeared after the First Intifada in 1987. The Hanukkah menorah, or hanukkiyah, by contrast, has nine branches, commemorating the eight days the oil burned in the rededicated Temple, plus a shamash (helper) candle to do the lighting of the symbolic candles.
Deborah Rubin Fieldsis an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.
Zara Nybo leads an Israel on Campus meeting at the University of British Columbia. Nybo is the new BC representative for StandWithUs Canada. (photo from Zara Nybo)
When Zara Nybo transferred to the University of British Columbia from Camosun College on Vancouver Island, she wasn’t sure if Hillel was a place where she belonged, since she is not Jewish. Her partner encouraged her to check it out anyway – and it set her on a course to become an ally for Jewish students.
Recently, Nybo was hired as educational outreach and content manager for StandWithUs Canada, a nonprofit dedicated to pro-Israel education and advocacy. Though still finishing her degree in sociocultural anthropology and Jewish studies, she works full-time, overseeing the Emerson Fellowship for university students in British Columbia and the Leventhal Internship for high school students in Western Canada. She’s also responsible for non-Jewish outreach and community partnerships across the province.
“I think a lot of people assume this work is just for Jewish students,” Nybo said, “but education is the pathway to peace, for everyone.”
That idea fuels her days managing fellowships, mentoring students and helping young people navigate what have become among the most emotionally and politically charged issues on campus: Israel and antisemitism. In recent years, as anti-Zionist activism – and antisemitism – have surged across Canadian universities, Jewish students have increasingly found themselves isolated and targeted. Nybo has been impacted by what she has seen.
“What really struck me,” she said, “was watching Jewish and Israeli students grow afraid to go to class, to speak openly, to walk freely with a Star of David necklace. I wanted them to know – you’re not alone. There are people who see you, who care, and who are willing to stand with you.”
Nybo’s advocacy didn’t come out of nowhere. Raised in a family that prioritized global experience over staying in one place – she moved 13 times before age 13 – she learned early how to build bridges. But it was through Hillel and a series of fellowships, including the Campus Media Fellowship, a joint initiative of Allied Voices for Israel and Honest Reporting Canada, and the Israel Leadership Network, which consisted of more than 150 of the top Israel-focused student leaders from within the Hillel movement across North America, that she gained the knowledge, tools and confidence to become a leading pro-Israel advocate at UBC.
“I used to think of antisemitism as a historic form of hatred,” she said. “But once you learn to see the invisible forms of antisemitism, you realize how present and widespread it really is. Once you see it, you can’t unsee it.”
As a 2024/25 Canadian Emerson Fellow and Campus Media Fellowship alumna, Nybo staffed tables, hosted dialogues and wrote op-eds that challenged misinformation and promoted empathy. She’s continued to write ever since, crediting those programs with awakening her voice.
Now, in her leadership role, she trains others to do the same – Jewish and non-Jewish students alike.
“The Emerson Fellowship isn’t about slogans,” she said. “It’s about education. It’s about staying calm in hard conversations, being grounded in facts and speaking with authenticity – even when it’s scary.”
Nybo acknowledges she sometimes feeling “shaky” while tabling on campus. But she refuses to let fear stop her and she sees it as an important part of her role to encourage others to stand up even when it is daunting.
“Our job isn’t to scare students out of advocacy,” she said. “It’s to empower them to do it anyway.”
As tensions around Israel and antisemitism continue in Canada – on campus and beyond – Nybo is one of a small but crucial group of non-Jewish individuals who have stepped up to contest the atmosphere that is making Jews on campus uncomfortable and vulnerable.
“This isn’t just about being pro-Israel,” she said. “It’s about being anti-hate. No student – Jewish or otherwise – should walk around feeling like there’s a target on their back.”
In her new role, Nybo has already filled the BC positions open next year to Jewish and non-Jewish students seeking to broaden their knowledge and skills by participating in the programs StandWithUs Canada offers. She will oversee the students as they proceed through the range of learning and experiential projects she herself engaged in last year. These students, like Nybo, will go on to amplify the voices of Jews and allies on campus and, after graduation, take their places as leaders in the fight against antisemitism and anti-Zionism.
Dina Wachtel of Canadian Friends of the Hebrew University, and Ido Aharoni, a former top Israeli diplomat who now teaches at various universities. (photo by Pat Johnson)
Zionism is as popular now as it has ever been on North American campuses, according to a former top Israeli diplomat who now teaches at multiple American universities.
The bad news, he added, is that Zionism was never a hit on North American campuses.
“Zionism was never popular in academia,” said Ido Aharoni, speaking with the Independent during a trip to Vancouver as a guest of Canadian Friends of the Hebrew University. “In fact, I would argue that … we’ve never had so many Zionists in North America as we have today.”
Protests on campuses and reports of professors inculcating anti-Israel ideas are disturbing, he said, but it’s not new.
“The people that are at the front of the effort, that spearhead the effort, are different,” he said, arguing that the vanguard now is comprised of foreign students and descendants of immigrants from societies where antisemitism is endemic. “But it’s the same thing, the same messaging that was designed by the Soviet Union.”
Aharoni is a 25-year veteran of Israel’s foreign service, a public diplomacy specialist, and founder of the Brand Israel program, which, since 2002, has sought to reposition Israel in the public mind globally. He served in the Israeli consulate in Los Angeles in the 1990s and was consul general of Israel in New York and the Tri-State Area from 2010 to 2016.
Since retiring from government in 2016, Aharoni has lectured and spoken at academic institutions including Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Wharton and Berkeley on topics such as Israel’s foreign relations, mass media, the information revolution, public marketing, and nation branding. He has served as a professor of business at Touro University, as a professor of international relations at New York University and is the Murray Galinson Professor of International Relations at University of California in San Diego and San Diego State University’s business school.
In addition to teaching and lecturing, Aharoni provides advice to international companies to accessIsraeli innovation. He also helps businesses and agencies communicate with governments. His third focus is strategy and planning, particularly helping clients tell their story.
Aharoni contests widely held assumptions, including that Israel is unpopular in Western countries. Opinion polls say large majorities of respondents side with the Jewish state, he said. That does not necessarily translate, however, into family vacations in Israel or investments in Israeli enterprises. Changing that mindset could include convincing non-Israelis to consider differently the challenges the country faces.
“Think of terrorism the same way you think of crime in any major urban centre in North America,” he said. “If you only focus on attempts to carry out criminal acts, or the number of criminal acts carried out, then the picture can be very scary.”
If all anyone heard about Vancouver was crime statistics, he said, they might be reluctant to visit or invest. “That’s what happened in Israel,” said Aharoni. “We communicated our problems to the world. At one point, it became the only thing we communicated to the world. As a result, the world doesn’t see us beyond those problems.”
It’s hard to alter a narrative once it is set, he said. And yet, he added, Israel is no more dangerous a place to visit – and far more stable a place to invest – than many other spots in the world.
“You know how many inflammations of violence we have right now in the world taking place?” he asked. “People are talking about Israelis and Palestinians as if it’s the only conflict in the world and I think there’s something wrong about that.”
Early in his career, Aharoni was involved in the beginnings of the Oslo Peace Process. He was the policy assistant to Uri Savir, director-general of the Israeli foreign ministry under then-foreign minister Shimon Peres. “I was part of a very small group of people that knew about the secret negotiations and my job was mostly to prepare him for meetings,” he said.
Aharoni rejects the narrative that the entire process is a story of failure. What did fail was the assumption by Israelis and the broader diplomatic world that Yasser Arafat would confront the extremists on his side, get Hamas in hand, end incitement against Israelis and prepare his people to live in peaceful coexistence.
The Palestinians faced their Altalena moment, he said, citing a pivotal incident in the earliest Israeli history, when the prime minister, David Ben-Gurion, ordered the nascent Israel Defence Forces to attack the Irgun ship Altalena, effectively ensuring there would be a single, unified military force in the country.
“If you ask me, this was the biggest mistake: the assumption that Arafat was of that calibre. But the truth is that Arafat was no Ben-Gurion,” said Aharoni. “Arafat was not of that calibre. He was in it way over his head. He didn’t have the skill or the character – nor the desire. To have the desire, you have to have some knowledge of history, you have to have some depth. He had none of that. He was in love with the position of a rebel, of a revolutionary. He thought he was Che Guevara and that was his historical reference. If you ask me, that was the biggest failure.
“Other than that,” he argued, “Oslo was a big success.”
Before Oslo, he noted, Israel did not recognize the existence of the Palestinians and vice versa. The recognition and direct contact between the two sides, for whatever shortcomings that dialogue has had, allows Israel to coordinate anti-terror efforts with the Palestinian Authority.
“A lot of people don’t know that,” he said, “but the Palestinian Authority, which is the creation of the Oslo Accords … they have been very instrumental helping Israelis curb terrorism coming out of the West Bank.”
Oct. 7, 2023, or “10/7,” changed everything, he said.
“Before 10/7, there was this expectation on the part of Israelis that, somehow, we will be able to introduce peace in its full conceptual meaning.… I think, after 10/7, it’s very difficult for people to imagine that kind of peace.”
The best hope now, probably, is what Aharoni calls “a livable arrangement,” which would protect Israel’s security needs and deliver maximal Palestinian civil self-rule, while limiting the Palestinians’ military capabilities. Eliminating the antisemitism and genocidal incitement in the Palestinian and broader Arab education systems is another priority, he added.
Aharoni forcefully rejects the idea that support for Israel has become a partisan wedge issue in the United States, noting that a vote on an Israeli aid package passed the US Congress after 10/7 with 366 in favour, 58 against and seven abstentions.
“It’s true that we pay a lot of attention to the fringes,” he said, citing vocally anti-Israel representatives Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib, who, he said, “represent a very marginalized and very narrow agenda.”
Aharoni was in Vancouver to meet with local supporters of Canadian Friends of the Hebrew University. CFHU will host a public event next month, in which the mayor of Jerusalem, Moshe Lion, will be in conversation with Rabbi Jonathan Infeld. The event, titled Diversity as Strength During Challenging Times, takes place June 9, at 7:30 p.m. Register at cfhu.org/moshe-lion.
Dr. Gil Troy spoke of being inspired by Ben Mizrachi and other young Jews, who he described as Zionist lions. (screenshot)
Vancouver’s Ben Mizrachi died a hero saving others at the Nova music festival on Oct. 7, 2023. On that terrible day, and since, a new generation of Zionist lions has emerged, exemplifying the heroism that Mizrachi and so many others epitomized.
This, according to the American-Canadian-Israeli academic and author Dr. Gil Troy, is one of many miracles that have risen from the tragedy.
Troy, an American presidential historian and McGill University professor who lives in Jerusalem, knew Mizrachi well. One of Troy’s sons participated in an Israeli program with the Vancouverite.
“They became close, close friends,” said Troy. “He was one of those kids who walked into the door and straight into your heart. He was really part of our family.”
On Oct. 7, Mizrachi, who was a trained medic, and his friend Itai Bausi, went back into the festival site and saved the lives of others before being murdered themselves.
“What I learned from his heroism was, yes, the Israeli government failed that day,” Troy said. “Yes, the IDF failed that day. But Zionism was vindicated that day. Zionism raised a generation of lions. Zionism raised a generation of Bens and Itais, who fought back, and that was the real miracle of Oct. 7. What saved Israel was Israelis. What saved Israel was Zionism, which taught them to defend themselves, which taught us the value of defending ourselves, which taught us the language of defending ourselves, which sometimes is with words and sometimes is with arms and sometimes with our bare hands.”
Troy was speaking Feb. 2 at Schara Tzedeck Synagogue. As a professor used to daily interactions with North American college students, Troy has witnessed Jewish young people undergo an awakening on and after Oct. 7. People who had never been deeply invested either in Israel or in their own Jewish identity realized they were the object of the terrorists’ wrath.
“This is happening to me. I’m being targeted. This wasn’t just anti-Zionism. This was antisemitic anti-Zionism,” Troy said of how he characterizes the realization among Jewish students. “So many young Jews had an awakening, had their Herzl moment, had their ’67 moment, had their reawakening.”
Rather than hide from their Zionism, Troy said, Jewish young people are recognizing its centrality and resisting others’ attempts to separate their Jewishness from their Zionism.
“At Columbia University, 600 Jewish students signed a statement saying Zionism is central to our identity,” said Troy. “Zionism is who we are.”
The signatories called out those who would define for Jews the acceptable parameters of their Jewishness and Zionism – and they called out anti-Zionist Jews in language deliberately formulated to stick it to their ideological heart, accusing them of being “colonized” by antisemitic forces.
“We’ve seen, from coast to coast in Canada … Jewish students stand up and say, this shall not stand. This is not acceptable,” Troy said. “We’re watching new chapters in Zionist history being written. And we’re seeing it in Israel too.”
This is not easy, he acknowledged. The challenges are enormous. Jews on campus and elsewhere are being betrayed by the very groups who should be counted on as allies, he said.
“Too many of my women colleagues – not all, but too many feminists either decided that it didn’t happen or that we deserved it, or that rape is resistance,” said Troy. “I can’t make this stuff up. They showed at that moment that their hatred for Israel trumped, if I can use that verb, their commitment to fighting gendered violence. That’s how deep the hatred goes.”
Troy calls this the “triple double-cross.” Activists threw Jews under the bus, threw liberalism under the bus and threw their own core ideals under the bus, he said.
The fight of which Jewish students are at the vanguard is not just a fight for Jewish security, Troy contended.
“Who waves the American and Canadian flags at rallies and who burns them?” he asked. “Who disrupted shopping malls and the Toronto mayor’s ice-skating party? Who showed a hatred for Canada, again and again and again? The fight against this academic intifada is not just a fight for Israel and Zionism and Judaism, which should be enough, but it’s also a fight for Americanism and Canadianism and liberalism and for academic values.”
In the face of all the hatred seen in Canadian streets and on campuses in the past year-and-a-half, he said, it could be easy to spin into despair.
“But, you know who doesn’t allow me to despair? Our students,” Troy said. “We’ve seen such heroism. We’ve seen zeal on their part, a gleam in their eye, pride.”
The inspiring courage of young Canadian Jews is mirrored in a million ways, he said. Reserve soldiers living abroad or traveling around the world came to the rescue after Oct. 7.
“Two hundred thousand Israelis flew home,” he said. Many non-Israeli volunteers mobilized as well. “So many of you, since Oct. 7, instead of running away, came toward us – either physically or spiritually and financially, which was part of the language of love.
“There has been something mystical happening here,” he continued. “For all that high price we paid, Israel is now safer than it was Oct. 6 and the United States and Canada and the world is safer than it was on Oct. 6.”
Amid all the darkness, including the tragic loss of his son’s friend, Troy sees inspiring resilience and determination.
“Every moment since that funeral I’ve had Ben on my shoulder, inspiring me and inspiring us to fight like lions and to save the state but also to make it better,” said Troy. “Because Zionism is about defending the state when necessary but building, rebuilding and being rebuilt by it always. That’s the power of the story. That’s our good fortune amid all our grief.”
Aviva Rathbone, chair of JQT Vancouver, finds hope in the fact that “[t]here are lots of people in the community coming together right now and finding connections to heal what they can in what is a very broken world and what is a very broken situation.” (photo from JQT)
Probably all Jews have experienced emotional and mental impacts from the events of Oct. 7 and since. For LGBTQ+ Jews, these effects are often magnified by the climates in their multiple communities.
JQT Vancouver (pronounced J-Cutie), a volunteer-run Jewish queer and trans nonprofit group whose mission is “‘queering’ Jewish spaces and ‘Jew-ifying’ queer spaces,” has released the results of a survey that indicates LGBTQ+ Jews are experiencing profound pain – regardless of where they stand on an apparently vastly diverse spectrum of opinions about the conflict in the Middle East.
Titled 2024 JQT Temperature Check Report, the document collates responses from 91 individuals, including narratives of their experiences, and the overview it paints is bleak.
“There are a lot of really sad commentaries,” Aviva Rathbone, chair of JQT, told the Independent. “A lot of the folks who responded to the survey are people who are really struggling right now.”
She cautioned that the survey may not include the perspectives of others who may be having more positive experiences.
“Some people are feeling really accepted into community right now, they are feeling like they found a place,” said Rathbone. “We didn’t hear from those folks, but that’s not to say that they don’t exist.”
The results are not surprising, she said.
“We knew people were struggling,” she said. “It was a surprise, I think, the depth of anger and sadness that was there.”
Fewer than half of survey respondents indicated that they felt safe and accepted in Jewish spaces and only about a quarter said they felt safe and accepted in queer spaces. Fewer still, 14%, said they felt comfortable in both.
Since Oct. 7, approximately half of respondents indicated that actions and/or statements of queer (57%) and Jewish organizations (51%) have had a negative impact on their mental health.
A majority (57%) of respondents indicated that their safety and security felt threatened since Oct. 7 because of their Jewish identity. More than two-thirds of respondents (68%) said they experienced antisemitism online or in-person since Oct. 7.
Much of the discomfort centres on divergent attitudes toward Israel and the war against Hamas, as well as opinions around the definitions of antisemitism and what some respondents describe as exclusivist attitudes in the Jewish community, often described as overwhelmingly pro-Israel, and in the LGBTQ+ community, described by many as unwelcoming to pro-Israel Jews.
One respondent said the Jewish community should “acknowledge that anti-Zionist Jews are still Jews and should be welcome in Jewish spaces” and that “queer Zionist Jews are still queer and should be welcome in queer spaces.”
JQT serves members who self-identify as Zionist and those who self-identify as anti-Zionist.
“When the mainstream Jewish community dismisses Jews who criticize Israeli actions, it makes me feel alienated from that community, more than before,” wrote one respondent.
Two among scores of examples illustrate the chasm between the narratives shared in the report. One respondent accuses “queers for Palestine” of trying “to turn Zionism into a dirty word” and making them feel “unwelcome as a Jewish Israeli in queer spaces when not hiding myself.” Another writer says, “It makes me unsafe when Jewish organizations […] make wildly racist statements about Palestine. Conflating Judaism with Israel makes it seem like I am complicit in this genocide.”
Said another respondent: “None of the synagogues or even [Jewish queer groups] have made any statements that humanize the struggle of non-Zionist Jews and how we’ve been systematically shut out of spiritual, social and cultural Jewish spaces for far too long. In fact, the current climate within these spaces promotes a pro-war and anti-Palestinian rhetoric that pushes me and my friends away from feeling security and belonging in our identities.”
The divergence in attitudes is typified by another survey response.
“People wearing an End the Occupation T-shirt or other such slogans signal to me that the wearers believe Hamas to be righteous rather than terrorist, that all lives are not equal, makes me uncomfortable, as does the aggressivity of protesters, including [queer groups that support] Palestine. Standing in solidarity with Israel and its absolute right to defend itself, while not recognizing the numbers of non-Hamas Palestinians killed and the living conditions in Gaza during the war is also not comfortable for me,” wrote a respondent.
If there is a clear takeaway from the study, Rathbone said, it can be summed up in one word.
“Empathy,” she said. “We have the ability to hold space for our own pain and anger and for other people’s pain and anger. I fully believe that humans are expansive and the Jewish community for sure is expansive and we have done this many times. We have been able to hold space for ourselves and for other people who are suffering, even when we don’t agree with them.”
Disagreements over politics, no matter how intensely and personally held, should not erase the empathy Jewish people have for one another, she said.
It is possible to have conversations across that divide, as JQT did recently in a “listen and be heard” event, facilitated by two professionals.
That event was part of a major mental health initiative in collaboration with Jewish Family Services, with funding from the Jewish Community Foundation of Greater Vancouver, that was in the works even before Oct. 7. Among numerous projects rolled out in recent months addressing the challenges facing LGBTQ+ Jews is a 10-page resource issued last week, titled JQT Affirming Care: A Toolkit for Mental Health Providers. It was developed by care providers Hannah Zalmanowitz and Anat Kerelstein.
Carmel Tanaka, executive director of JQT, said the toolkit, which Jewish trans or queer people can give to healthcare providers, as well as friends or anyone else who might benefit from a deeper understanding of their experiences, is a direct response to expressed needs in the community.
JQT Vancouver executive director Carmel Tanaka talks about Twice Blessed 2.0 at a recent event. The 2022 needs assessment includes 13 calls for action, including mental health support and being open to those who have a spectrum of opinion on Israel/Palestine. (photo by Kathryn Nickford Photography)
“We kept hearing that one of the barriers to receiving mental health support was linked directly to the lack of provider knowledge, training and competence around working with Jewish queer and trans people,” Tanaka said. “So, we created this educational toolkit aimed at reducing the burden on JQTs of having to educate their mental health providers on their lived experiences and mental health needs.”
Along with the Temperature Check report, Tanaka said, the toolkit provides tangible evidence of both the challenges and steps to improving the isolation and difficulties faced by affected individuals.
“I just really hope that leaders in the Jewish community, as well as leaders in the queer community, do take a moment to seriously read this so that they can better understand why we are doing this and why there is a need to support our community,” Tanaka said, adding that JQT continues to remain open to those who are on a spectrum of opinion on Israel and Palestine. “It really hurts to not be included in Pride events or in queer spaces, to not feel included in Jewish spaces. It’s an impossible situation to feel like you don’t belong.”
Even amid a plethora of discouraging responses, Rathbone said there is reason for hope.
“I don’t want folks to read it and to become really depressed and hopeless, because there are lots of ways to find hope,” she said. “There are lots of people in the community coming together right now and finding connections to heal what they can in what is a very broken world and what is a very broken situation. That also gives me hope, to watch people recognize that they can come together in community and do their part to heal something.”
