Category: Jewish Education

Reading the Calendar as Text

There is an idea in Talmudic hermeneutics (which defines the rules and methods for investigation and exact determination of meaning of the scriptures in the Jewish Bible, within the framework of Rabbinic Judaism) that you can unlock meaning by looking at the juxtaposition of biblical texts that don’t appear to be linked or related on the surface.  [For example, the fact that the law of shatnez in Deuteronomy 22:11 (the forbidding of wearing garments of mixed wool and linen) is immediately followed by the law of tzitzit in Deuteronomy 22:12 leads the rabbis to deduce through the juxtaposition of sections that you can wear a garment bearing tzitzit that is a mix of wool and linen.  Don’t worry if none of what I just wrote makes sense to you.]

But what if we applied this rule of “juxtaposition of sections” to the calendar?

Over the next few days at OJCS, we have an “only in a Canadian Jewish day school” convergence of events: today’s annual Terry Fox Run, Monday’s National Truth & Reconciliation Day, and then we head into Rosh Hashanah.  While each occasion is distinct in purpose and history, there is something deeply powerful about experiencing them in close proximity.  For children and families in a Canadian Jewish K-8 day school, these moments offer profound lessons that transcend individual contexts and connect us in shared values of courage, reflection, and responsibility.

The Legacy of Terry Fox: Courage and Collective Action

Terry Fox is a national hero whose story resonates far beyond Canadian borders.  His Marathon of Hope is more than just a symbol of endurance; it reflects the courage to pursue what seems impossible.  For our students, participating in a Terry Fox Run is about more than running. It’s an opportunity to connect with the value of mesirut nefesh—the Jewish concept of self-sacrifice for a higher cause.  When children run in Terry’s name, they aren’t just contributing to cancer research; they are internalizing the idea that each of us can make a difference, no matter our limitations.  We teach them that Terry’s story is about turning personal adversity into global activism—a message that resonates deeply with our school’s North Stars.

National Truth & Reconciliation Day: Reflection and Responsibility

Our commitment to holding space for National Truth & Reconciliation Day into our school calendar has become an essential part of how we engage our students with Canada’s complex history.  The day is set aside to remember and honour the survivors of residential schools, acknowledging the pain and trauma inflicted upon Indigenous communities.  For a Jewish day school, it offers an opportunity to reflect on the intersections between our own historical experiences and those of Indigenous peoples.  Our students learn that justice, tzedek, isn’t just a concept confined to Jewish history but is a universal human responsibility.  We want our children to understand that reconciliation isn’t a one-time event but an ongoing commitment to learning, listening, and acting in solidarity.

Rosh Hashanah: A Time for Renewal and Change

Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, offers a moment of spiritual reflection that echoes the themes of both Terry Fox and National Truth & Reconciliation Day.  As we enter the Yamim Noraim, the Days of Awe, we emphasize personal growth, repentance, and renewal.  We teach our students that while this holiday is about introspection, it is also about action—about making changes in our lives that positively impact those around us.  Much like Terry Fox’s unyielding dedication to his cause, and much like the ongoing process of reconciliation, Rosh Hashanah calls us to pursue tikkun olam—the repair of the world.  Whether in the context of family, community, or society at large, Rosh Hashanah reminds us that we have the power and responsibility to create meaningful change.

A Unique Canadian Jewish Experience

What makes these three juxtaposed events especially meaningful is the way they intersect within the unique fabric of our Canadian Jewish identity.  Terry Fox’s legacy, Truth & Reconciliation Day, and Rosh Hashanah each stand on their own, but together, they represent a powerful triad of courage, responsibility, and renewal.  In a Jewish day school like ours, we aim to provide students with the tools to engage fully as young Jewish Canadians, understanding that their identities are shaped by both their heritage and their broader Canadian context.  We want our students to ask big questions: How do we honour the past while building a better future? What does it mean to live as a proud Jew and a responsible citizen?

As this extraordinary week unfolds, I am eager to see the questions and discussions that arise among our students and families. How can we live with courage like Terry Fox?  What does it mean to actively participate in reconciliation efforts?  How can the reflection and renewal of Rosh Hashanah guide us in the year to come?  These are the kinds of questions that define the educational journey at OJCS.  While the answers may not come easily—or at all—the process of engaging with them is where the real learning happens.  As always, I’m excited to see how our students navigate the intersection of these significant moments, and I look forward to the lessons they will teach all of us in the process.

As the eve of a new Jewish Year approaches, it is my most sincerest hope that this is the year we’ve been waiting for.  To all the teachers, staff, parents, students, donors, supporters, and friends in this special school- thank you for your enthusiasm and your hard work.  5785 is shaping up to be a quite an amazing year!

From our family to yours, “Shanah tovah!”

The 2024 OJCS Middle School Retreat: Disconnect to Reconnect

We had to pivot to a new location this year (Todah Rabbah Camp Shomria!), but it was worth it in order to return a full experience at our Seventh Annual OJCS Middle School Retreat!  Our theme for The 2024 Middle School Retreat was the same as it was for our Faculty Pre-Planning Week as it will be for the whole school and the whole year: Disconnect to Reconnect.  Over three days, we had all kinds of community-building experiences and programs and we engaged in three different peulot (informal Jewish educational programs) where our students, by class, by grade, and as a full middle school had a chance to review and lean into the permanent values embodied in our North Stars and the “7 Habits” while learning about the value of “disconnecting” and how our reliance on technology can sometimes get in the way of our “connecting” with our community, our school, our classmates, our friends…and ourselves.  I was very impressed by the level of engagement and the quality of conversation – whether we were inside, outside, sleepy or wide awake – that our students contributed to this part of the experience.

Here’s a snapshot (or many) of our experience:

Day #1

  • We arrived mid-morning, settled in, went over rules and boundaries, and unpacked.
  • Then we had lunch together.
  • Next up, Moreh David organized a Jewish Studies-Themed Scavenger Hunt that took us all around the camp while reviewing our basic Bible and Holiday Facts.
  • Then, our very own OJCS Parent, Steve Papai (thank you!) came up to supervise our canoeing and kayaking on Otty Lake.  Those who weren’t interested in the waterfront, were able to read and do arts and crafts with Miss M.
  • After that, we came together for our first peulah (activity) on the topic of “Disconnect to Reconnect”.  We learned what it meant to be a “Hokie” and a “Pokie”, explored what it mean to work collaboratively with those who have different norms, talked about the kind of MIddle School community we want to create and sustain, “crossed a wild river” and – of course, ended with…the Hokie-Pokie.
  • We finished with hanging out, watching a movie, playing night volleyball or ga-ga, reading, relaxing, etc., and then…lailah tov!

Day #2

  • We began our day with a delicious group breakfast and an outdoor Tefillah, which set the tone for the adventures ahead.  After fueling up, we made our way to Marked, where students tested their strength and endurance through a series of challenging outdoor obstacle courses and showcased their precision and accuracy during  thrilling games of laser tag.
  • In the late afternoon, we returned to camp where the fun continued. Students cooled off with a refreshing swim in the lake and enjoyed relaxing canoe rides.  Others took advantage of the many amenities the camp offers, including basketball and tetherball.
  • As evening approached, we gathered for a delicious BBQ dinner.  Following dinner, we engaged in our second peulah focusing on “mindfulness” and shifting one’s attitude by reimagining daily school experiences through a new lens (i.e. “Math” as “Brain Exercise” and “Eating” as “Mindful Eating”).
  • We ended our day on a high note with a cozy bonfire.  Students ate roasted marshmallows and sang songs, creating a perfect end to an action-packed day.

Day #3

  • We got up early, ate, did Tefillah, cleaned up and packed up!
  • We did our final peulah, this time focused on trust and how to carry forward the conversations and the relationships from the retreat back to school.
  • We finished up with a great survival skills training with Mr. Ray & Mr. C. and then it was time to load the busses and head back to OJCS!
Please  be sure to join us tomorrow for “Back to School Night” from 7:00 – 9:00 PM.  We can’t wait to show you the new spaces, to go deeper into The Anxious Generation, and to share with all you need to know to be great partners during this exciting 75th anniversary year!

A Time to Be Counted

Here are the words I shared with Kitah Bet this morning in celebration of their Chaggigat Ha’Torah:

There is a time to count, like one does when counting one’s blessings, and there is a time to be counted, like one does when showing up for oneself, one’s family, and one’s community.  Today is a rare opportunity to do both.

Today we celebrate the gift of Torah and in this week’s reading of it – in Parashat Bamidbar – we read about the census of the Israelites in the wilderness.  This detailed counting of each tribe and individual highlights the significance of every member within the community.  Each person’s unique role and contribution are recognized and valued. This notion resonates deeply with us today, as we witness the power of Jewish unity and collective strength in the face of recent challenges.

The tragic events of October 7th tested and continue to test our community in unimaginable ways.  Yet, amidst the darkness, we have seen an extraordinary outpouring of support, solidarity, and resilience.  There have been times when we have huddled together and counted our blessings, but also times when we have stood up and been counted as we rally and publicly #StandWithIsrael.

When we come together to celebrate our children’s first accomplishments in the study of Torah with the gift of Torah, we are not only honoring their individual achievements, but also reinforcing the bonds that tie us together as a community.  Your choice to provide your children with a Jewish day school education is a powerful statement.  It connects your children to the generations who came before, and to those yet to come.  Your choice joins your family story to the larger Jewish story, honors our past, and secures our future through the learning and experiences you have made possible for their Jewish present.  This choosing to be chosen, the unique nature of Jews who both have to and get to choose to be Jewish, feels so much more powerful this year in light of the world around us.

Our act of giving these sifrei torah to our children today is more than a ceremony; it is a reaffirmation of our commitment to Jewish continuity and resilience.  Each time we gather as a community to study, read and celebrate Torah, we engage in a public act of Judaism that is itself a living expression of Torah.  By showing up, by being present and publicly Jewish, we live our own torah and are counted within the Jewish People’s shared destiny of meaning.  We demonstrate to our children that Judaism is not just a private faith, but a public declaration of who we are and what we stand for.  Each act of Jewish learning, and each celebration we share is a thread woven into the fabric of our collective Jewish identity.

That is why, as was true with the siddur they received at the end of Kitah Alef, the Torah they receive at the end of Kitah Bet is not intended to be a trophy to sit upon a shelf, but a tool to continue the Jewish journey they are just beginning.  It is our hope and our prayer that the work we have begun together as partners – parents and teachers; home and school – continues in the years ahead to provide our children with Jewish moments of meaning and Jewish experiences of consequence so that they can continue to receive and accept Torah in their own unique way, infused by a love of Judaism, informed by Jewish wisdom and aligned with Jewish values.

Ken y’hi ratzon.

Public Acts of Judaism Are a Prayer We Answer Ourselves

Here are the words I shared with Kitah Alef this morning in celebration of their Kabbalat Ha’Siddur:

One of the most profound gifts we can give our children is the sense of being part of something greater than themselves.  The Hebrew word “siddur” comes from the root samech-dalet-reish, meaning “order.” The siddur represents the structured prayers that have connected generations of Jews throughout history.  In the act of teaching our children to pray in Hebrew, we are linking them to a chain that stretches back to the beginning of the Bible and forward to future generations.  Each day we do tefillah we help make l’dor v’dor a reality…

The events of October 7th have left an indelible mark on our community and our sense of security.  In such times, the importance of community and the shared rituals that bind us become even more vital.  The Torah teaches us, “And you shall teach them diligently to your children” (Deuteronomy 6:7). This mitzvah underscores our responsibility to pass down our traditions and values.  Our act of giving these siddurim to our children today is more than a ceremony; it is a reaffirmation of our commitment to Jewish continuity and resilience.

Each time we gather as a community to celebrate our traditions, we engage in a public act of Judaism that is itself a form of prayer.  By showing up, by being present and publicly Jewish, we answer our own prayers for a shared destiny of meaning.  We demonstrate to our children that Judaism is not just a private faith, but a public declaration of who we are and what we stand for.  Each act of Jewish learning and each celebration we share is a thread woven into the fabric of our collective Jewish identity.

Each day, our children present us – their parents and their teachers – with an opportunity to secure the Jewish future through our partnership.  For parents, this is the sacred obligation we take on when deciding to have children.  For teachers and schools, this is the holy task we are entrusted with when parents take the leap of faith to provide their children with a Jewish education.  It is a responsibility that we do not take lightly or for granted.  It is why a Kabbalat Ha’Siddur – why a celebration of receiving a siddur gifted by the school, decorated by the parents, and instructed by the teachers is so appropriate to mark this stage of our journey.

One of our school’s North Stars is that “we are all on inspiring Jewish journeys,” and the Kabbalat Ha’Siddur is just the next stop on a journey that, for many, began together under the chuppah on the first day of Kindergarten.  My prayer for this class is that in the same way that the siddur we give them today is not a trophy to be admired on a shelf, but a tool to be used for discovery and meaning.  Let today’s simchah not simply be an oasis of Jewish joy in a desert of a Jewish year, but confirmation of our collective indomitable spirit and a commitment to celebrate the next stop and the stop after that in the extraordinary and unpredictable Jewish journey of this remarkable group of children and families.

Ken y’hi ratzon.

From Crying To Dancing: Living Through History on Yom HaZikaron and Yom HaAtzmaut

[NOTE: This blog post comes from my daughter, Maytal Mitzmacher, near the end of her Grade 10 spring semester abroad in Tichon Ramah Yerushalayim or TRY, a program operated by Ramah Israel.]

On Yom HaZikaron we went to the Tekkes run by Masa in the evening. It was a very crowded place, and we saw a lot of people we knew. It felt a bit strange because we were excited to see people but the mood was meant to be more somber. It didn’t click for a lot of us until the Tekkes began. For some, it was our first time experiencing this in Israel. There were a lot of meaningful stories from October 7th and other incidents and it was emotional to hear the stories through song and dance and testimonials so that everyone could find a way to connect. The Masa Tekkes helped us prepare for the following day.

On Monday, we joined the Tekkes on the Chava planned by students living here. It honored those who lived here who we lost from past generations. Even though it was in Hebrew, we were still able to connect because it’s the place we’ve been living for the past four months. There was so much emotion in each speaker, that we felt intensely the pain of this year. They also prepared poems, the orchestra played and students sang. Later that day, we went to Har Herzl. Though we had been there once before, it was very different. This time, it was shoulder to shoulder and we visited the same graves, many of which had people sitting beside them mourning their losses. It was overwhelming how many people were there, and though some graves had nobody beside them, all had flowers. We also saw a huge group of people praying around a brand-new grave. It was powerful to be a part of this and experience this with the people of Israel.

Yom HaAtzmaut comes right after Yom HaZikaron. The switch happened in the evening, and we were getting excited to be able to celebrate. We had to switch our mood instantly, thinking of two things so different from one another. To go from thinking of those we’ve lost to celebrating our state is really hard. The immediate switch is hard to process and some people needed more time without feeling the rush. I feel that a day in between would be helpful so that people can be in a proper state of mind to celebrate Israel and enjoy the day. This year, everything was toned down and Yom Haaztmaut was not as celebratory as there are losses that are very recent. We still celebrated but it was hard to go from seeing pictures of hostages to singing upbeat songs. I needed more time to think and switch moods. The mood this year made celebrating more complicated. Even though we are trying to mourn properly, we still have our state and it’s still something we should want to celebrate. Even though there are still horrible things happening, we’re continuing to mourn and pray while appreciating all that we still have and move into another, better year for Israel.

Coming to Israel, knowing there’s a war with everything happening, the 14 of us still chose to come this semester. People thought we were crazy for coming, or they were super proud and impressed with us. We’ve been told countless times that we’re the best of the best for being here right now. Even though we haven’t been able to do everything, it hasn’t changed the way we feel about Israel. We’ve had an experience unlike any other, we lived through this and are able to see firsthand what real life and experiences that we can continue to tell others. We got to live through history and being here is also part of our story and our relationship with Israel. We’ve connected MORE, and our love for Israel has grown immensely. We belong here.

“We are reliving our past”: Holocaust education in the shadow of 10/7

[NOTE: This blog post is written by current OJCS Parent and member of our Board of Trustees, Howie Fremeth.]

All other nations that tried to kill us have perished. Yet we have survived. Look at you.

As the grandson of Holocaust survivors, these words from Marie Doduck to OJCS Grades 5-8 students hit me right in the kishkes. 

Learning about the Holocaust has always been important to me for as long as I can remember. My bubbie towards the end of her life chose me to share details that she didn’t tell anyone else – even her own children – and help her document her story so that it can be passed down to future generations. Now as a parent, I am only beginning to struggle with what I tell my kids about our family history. So when I had the opportunity to attend this week’s Yom Hashoah Assembly, I knew I had to be there to both observe and show my daughter how much it means to me.  

Born in 1935, Marie Doduck was just five years old when the Nazis conquered her hometown of Brussels and was forced into hiding until the end of the war. Her survival, in her own words, was thanks to a mixture of good luck and the goodwill of many non-Jews who took her in. In 1947, she came to Canada as part of the Jewish Canadian Congress’ Orphan War Project that helped foster Jewish children who had lost their parents in the Holocaust.

For more than an hour, the students had an opportunity to hear Marie’s story. She was particularly keen to spend most of the time answering questions.  I was amazed by how much more the students knew about the history of the Second World War and the Holocaust than I thought they would. They wanted to know everything from details about her daily life routine to her views on the Nazis. 

But it was one student’s question that folded the past into the present: What do you think about the massacre of Israelis on October 7th and the current rise of antisemitism in Canada?    

Marie didn’t hesitate in her response. She said she thinks she’s reliving what happened to her some 80 years ago. She recalled that the violence began with words, so we must call out hate speech before it turns violent. But she did say there was one crucial difference from then and now. 

Today the Jewish people have a country to call our own. She told the students that if Israel existed before the Holocaust, that’s where European Jews would have gone for sanctuary. We now have a place to go if we must leave Canada – a thought that none of us would’ve even imagined a few months ago. But she also said we won’t leave or turn the other cheek like we did when she was a girl in Belgium. We will fight back both here in Canada and in Israel. 

She reminded the students that Israel has one of the most powerful militaries in the world. Her message paralleled something I heard Israel’s Ambassador to Canada Iddo Moed often say in media interviews: we will win this war because we have to win the war. 

I walked out of the assembly thinking how precious it is that my daughter had the opportunity to hear directly from a survivor. While I’m grateful they were able to meet, my daughter was not even five when my bubbie passed away. Thankfully we have a self-published photo album recounting her family history and a translation of her diary – written in a mixture of Yiddish, Russian and Polish with a few of her own drawings throughout the pages – that offers a first-person account of her survival. Yet none of this can compete with hearing directly from a survivor who can also situate the past into the present. 

At a time when protesters distort the Holocaust, chant the genocidal “River to the Sea” slogan and call on Jews to “go back to Europe,” Marie’s story empowers the great grandchildren of Holocaust survivors. It offers meaning for why we continue our traditions – despite the trauma, the costs, and threats we face as they are reminded every day when they see police parked outside their school.  

I know there will be a time soon when we won’t have any more living survivors. Until that day comes, it is incumbent on all of us to hear their stories and ensure that young Canadians from all faiths and backgrounds share in this opportunity. 

Before I conclude, I want to thank our incredible staff and faculty – especially Michael Washerstein – who organized this special experience for our children. 

[Back to Jon:]

I look forward to sharing results from the Annual Parent Survey later this month.  If you have NOT yet contributed and you want your results included, please fill yours out by Monday, May 15th.  Please and thank you!

Next Year In…Jerusalem? Preparing for Passover Post-October 7th

Not the WhatsApp I wanted to receive.  Not the history I was hoping to repeat.

In May of 2021, I wrote a blog post with a similar text from my older daughter during her semester of Grade 10 studying abroad in Israel.  As worried as I was then, those seem like the good old days compared to now.

I know that it is becoming commonplace to ask, “How X is different post-October 7th?” and clearly a holiday that is synonymous with “How is this night different from all other nights?” lends itself to that exact formulation.  Tack on the “Next Year in Jerusalem” that – again – may spark questions or conversation in a “normal” year and the idea of preparing to lead a “Post-October 7th Passover Seder” seems…well…like something I wouldn’t mind passing…over.  I don’t know how any of us are doing it.  We are running model seders and preparing for Passover while drones and missiles are flying towards Israel.  We are emotionally exhausted from the trauma of the last six months – while still not recovered from the trauma of the last three years.

I love the Passover Seder.  It is pedagogical perfection and I enjoy thinking about which new readings and tunes and discussion prompts and parody songs to incorporate.  For years and years, we have spent Passover in Las Vegas (where better than a desert?) celebrating with, first, with my parents and, now, with my mother.  I typically spend the flight out finishing my preparations and looking forward to the seders with great anticipation.  This year?  We are going to synagogue the first night and keeping it small the second.  We will have one eye on the Haggadah and one eye towards our phones which would otherwise by away for the chag, but this year need to be nearby God forbid.

I have never had the pleasure of spending a Passover in Israel.  I am blessed that come this year, both my daughters will have at least once in their lives been able to not just say, “Next Year in Jerusalem,” but to actually do it.  Even this year, even now, I am more grateful than scared.  I feel more blessed that Maytal is having this experience than concerned.  I know the small dose of empathy this experience is providing me with as my daughter is tucked in her cocoon of safety in Jerusalem does not compare with those whose worries for friends and family are more serious and more present.

This is the part of the blog where typically I push out a pre-Passover blog post that shares (updated) thoughts about how one goes about planning a proper seder.  And if you have the bandwidth and headspace to take that on this year, I encourage you to click here and take what is meaningful.  But if you don’t…if kashering and gathering and pulling out the Maxwell House or Haggadah-Of-Your-Choice is the best you can do under the circumstances then let this be one of those years where good enough is truly good enough.

I typically encourage the addition of a “Fifth Question” as a way of ensuring the conversation around the seder table is more than script-reading, but this year, I carry but one unanswerable question in my heart: When will peace come to our beloved Israel?

Next Year in Jerusalem?  Yes, of course.  But right now I am worried about next week and next month…

Chag kasher v’sameach.  Chag Pesach Sameach.  Am Yisrael Chai.

Public Displays of Judaism: Purim After 10/7

Judaism sometimes still feels like a miracle and the Jewish calendar still feels like a time machine capable of connecting past to present to future.  This is what I am thinking about as we prepare to celebrate the holiday of Purim in a post-October 7th world…

On Thursday, coinciding with the Fast of Esther, our school hosted a variety of dignitaries and staff from our country’s Israeli Embassy in order to participate in the Worldwide Kriyat (Recitation of) Shema.  Our older students gathered in the Gym to watch the livestream from Jerusalem and to participate; younger students gathered in classrooms or simply paused at 11:30 AM to add their voices to the global Jewish voice for unity.  It was brief and it was heartbreaking, but it was also cathartic and, as has been the case throughout these months, it does feel good to be able to do something.

On Friday, to ensure all our students have an opportunity, we welcomed Rabbi Idan Scher from Congregation Mahzikei Hadas to lead our students in an abbreviated, child-friendly Megillah-reading.  On Monday, we will continue the celebration into Shushan Purim with our normal Purim Carnival and the launch of Ruach Week at OJCS.  That leaves you, of course, with the weekend of Purim itself…

How much joy and silliness feel appropriate while hostages remain, a war continues and a humanitarian crisis unfolds?  Do we dial it down out of respect?  Do we amp it up out of defiance?  Do we simply try to keep things “normal”?  I cannot answer those questions for you, but I can tell you that I am leaning towards “normal” with a hint of extra out of defiance.  You don’t have to think that is right or right for you, but it is an honest appraisal of where I locate myself today.  What I would encourage you to do is have the conversation…with your children, with your family and with yourself.  The story of Purim mapped onto current events is a doctoral thesis, not a blog post, but for the more serious-minded I wonder if that is the work of this weekend.  To read Megillat Esther with 10/7 eyes will likely unlock new meanings and surface new questions.  Lean in.

And for those who do want to go a bit extra…

…instead of asking, “What shall I dress my children as this year for Purim?”

…ask, “What are we going to dress as for Purim?”

Too often as parents we treat Judaism the same way we treat Disneyland – as something that we sacrifice for in order to give our children an “experience”.  We scrimp and we save and we sweat in line so that our children can go on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.  We also scrimp and save and sweat over paperwork so that our children can receive a Jewish education and go to camp and have a bar/bat mitzvah.  But what about us?

Purim is a holiday of reversals and opposites, of mask-wearing and mask-shedding.  You can be anyone you wish in service of being your truest self.  If you think that wearing a costume is childish, what do you have to lose this year?  If you are typically shy about booing Haman with all your gusto in a crowd, there are plenty of Hamans worth booing.  Take advantage of the opportunity to do something silly as a family tomorrow night and Sunday.  Not only should you not let your children have all the fun, your silliness makes a very serious statement about what it means to be Jewish – every year, but especially this one.

From my family to yours…chag Purim sameach.

Op-Ed Postscript: People (Still) Read Newspapers & (Some) People ARE Wonderful

On Friday, December 1st, my Op-Ed was published in the Ottawa Citizen.

The following things have happened since…

…that morning an MPP (Member of Provincial Parliament for my American friends) physically came by to hand deliver donut holes to the staff.

…on Monday all our energy was dedicated to…

…sending four buses of students, teachers, parents and alumni to the Canadian Rally for the Jewish People where we stood in solidarity with thousands and thousands in the snow in support of Israel.  [If you want to see us in a brief news report, click here.]

…on Tuesday, a (non-Jewish) woman named Isabel G. had a zillion delicious kosher baked goods delivered to our staff.

…on Tuesday, a (non-Jewish) woman named Lauren S. had a beautiful handwritten card and candle sent to us expressing her allyship and solidarity.

…on Tuesday, a (non-Jewish) woman named Mary T., a young 89 year-old resident of an assisted living complex, called the school to see what she could do for us.

And it is only Wednesday…

That doesn’t account for all the Jewish folk I have bumped into since Friday who have gone out of their way to let me know they read, they support, they care, and they, too want to feel like we can do something.

Well.

All of the above counts as something.  And more than that, it means everything.  You would be surprised – I was – at how much these gestures mean.  It seems silly, or maybe it doesn’t, but these simple acts of lovingkindness bring a smile to an otherwise stressed Israeli face, or adds a spring in an otherwise exhausted Jewish step, or comforts a teacher who feels anxious these days – it meaningfully impacts our teachers and our school when we need it most.  And who benefits?  Happy teachers, happy students!  Everyone feels, if just for a moment, better.  And that is the best gift any of us can receive during this season, a little light in the darkness.

Chag urim sameach.

BTW – I should have asked for potato chips!  [Or did I just manifest a potato chip delivery!]

We look forward to safely welcoming you to this year’s special OJCS Chanukah Family Program!  Date and time has been communicated directly to parents and we are looking forward to coming together as an OJCS Family…now more than ever.

BTW – if you like a playlist and a signature cocktail for your celebrations, why don’t you go ahead and make yourself a Chanukah Gelt Martini and vibe to this playlist:

CAT-4 results are in!  You can look forward to my way-too-long, covered in way-too-many parts, analysis and breakdown…after Winter Break.

Public Displays of Judaism: Chanukah After 10/7

What I am thinking about today in the midst of all the noise, is the holiday of Chanukah, which begins next week and what can be learned by refracting it through the lens of a post-October 7th landscape.

There is something about Chanukah which is tailor-made for this moment.  Chanukah is the only Jewish holiday without a sacred text of its own.  (There is a Book of Maccabees, but it is part of the Catholic Bible.)  Instead of a public reading, we are commanded to bear silent witness to the miracles of the season with a public doing – the lighting of candles in a window.

There may be no simple Jewish ritual more fraught at this moment in history than this.  A common act that, for some, now may be heavy with anxiety, or infused with politics, or mixed with defiance, or filled with pride – or some combination thereof and therein.  To do something that is visible to the public through a window that makes it clear that you are Jewish means something this year other or more than it has in other years.

Chanukah is a fascinating holiday for many reasons.  In large part, the historical story is more of a civil war within Jewish society than a rebellion against a foreign power.  The Maccabees were fighting against (at least) two different strata of Jews – the Hellenizing elite and the acquiescing pietists.  The former were all too willing to assimilate and the latter believed it was only for God to act in the world.  The Maccabees took matters – and the covenant – into their own hands.  They were not content to let the world perfect itself; they understood themselves – and humanity – to be partners in the sacred work of repairing the world.

That’s a gross oversimplification, of course, but that idea of striking a balance between not letting the world overwhelm you, and taking appropriate action to perfect it, feels right – if not a bit too aspirational – for our first post-10/7 Chanukah.  Since then, our school, our community and each of us in our own ways have been trying to control the things we can while forgoing what may now feel risky.  But we all very much want to feel like we can do something.

For our school, it has included things like the amazing experience of welcoming new Israeli families in search of safety and joy or the massive participation in Monday’s Rally.  For me, personally, it has been taking on a lot more thought-leadership than I typically do in a bit more political vein than I am normally comfortable doing (see below).  People are learning more about Israel, sharing more about Israel, advocating more for Jewish Community and for Israel, and there are lots of stories of folk using this moment to rediscover and reconnect to their Jewish roots.  Like the Maccabbees, through human ingenuity and effort, we are active agents in our own salvation.

As we hopefully come through this crisis in the months ahead, let’s hope that by next Chanukah the image of a lit chanukkiah behind a window no longers resonates as a courageous act, but as a simple sharing of our collective joy of the holiday.

Finally, this and each Chanukah, let’s not forget our Jewish values of tzedakah (charity) and kehillah (community).   Along with your normal gift-giving, consider donating a night or two of your family’s celebration to Israel whose light of courage amplifies and enhances this Holiday of Lights.

Chag urim sameach from my family to yours.

If you haven’t read, but would like to, my Op-Ed in the Ottawa Citizen, you are welcome to follow this link.

We look forward to safely welcoming you to this year’s special OJCS Chanukah Family Program!  Date and time has been communicated directly to parents and we are looking forward to coming together as an OJCS Family…now more than ever.