Tag: Gratitude

Expat Thanksgiving: God Save the King (and a Drumstick)

Another (American) Thanksgiving is here, and this one feels less bittersweet than the last seven I’ve celebrated in Canada.  Sure, I’d love a five-day weekend at home, filled with family, football, and feasting.  Yes, it’s strange to treat this Thursday like any other school day while my inbox alternates between Thanksgiving wishes and Black Friday deals.  But this year, there’s something different.

Becoming a Canadian citizen earlier this year has reframed how I see this moment.  On what felt like an ordinary day, I joined a Zoom ceremony, where others celebrated with flags, decorations, and loved ones in tow. What struck me was how monumental this was for them.  For me, adding a second citizenship was more practical at first, but as the ceremony unfolded, I felt the significance.  Canada has given my family so much—safety, stability, and opportunity—and I’m deeply grateful.

This feeling was reinforced just yesterday when I met a family considering a move from the U.S. to Ottawa for the sake of their child’s safety.  I love America, flaws and all, but I don’t miss writing about gun violence.  I loved my U.S. college years but appreciate the affordability of Canadian universities.  I value choosing my own doctors but am relieved to avoid the risk of medical bankruptcy.

Of course, no country is perfect.  I remain proud to be an American, and I’m equally grateful to call Canada home.  On this American Thanksgiving, I’m reflecting on the blessings that both countries—and others—have given me.

What I’m grateful for this (American) Thanksgiving:

  • The gifts of growing up, learning, and working in the United States, and the privilege of raising my daughters in Canada.
  • The safety and security provided by the men and women defending Israel, our Holy Homeland.  We pray for the safe return of all hostages and for peace.  Am Yisrael Chai.
  • Living in a society that values work-life balance, even if I’m not always great at embracing it. I hope my daughters will do better as they grow.
  • A Jewish community here in Ottawa that is generous, capable, and deeply committed to Jewish day school education.
  • The hardworking, dedicated teachers who make our school an extraordinary place for students to grow.  A school is only as good as its teachers, and ours are exceptional.

Finally, I’m grateful to you, readers.  Writing over 500 blog posts can sometimes feel like shouting into the void, but every comment, share, or acknowledgment reminds me that someone out there is listening.  That still means a lot after all these years.

For my friends in the U.S.—enjoy Thanksgiving!  For my friends in Canada—have a great Thursday!

ExPat Files: American Thanksgiving In Canada Comes With a Side of Gratitude

To all my friends and family in the States, I wish you a “Happy Thanksgiving”.  And to all my friends in Canada, I wish you a “Happy Thursday”.

Sigh.

I know, truly, all the things about Thanksgiving in America.  And I know, truly, all the things about Thanksgiving in Canada.  [If you don’t believe me, I wrote a post about it a few years ago.]  And yet this time of year brings such strong feelings that “body memory” has to be real.  It actually starts on the weekend prior where you just know that Thanksgiving Week is coming…it is the shortest of school/work weeks…children are coming home from college (that’s American for “university”), relatives are gathering, food is being cooked, football is coming on, a four or five-day weekend is ahead, and it just goes on and on.  The whole week is filled with such anticipatory joy.

I fully acknowledge that if it has not been your experience, it may not make sense; but if it has, then it is the only thing that makes sense.  [Ask an American.]  The fomo really starts on Wednesday when you realize that you should be starting to relax and it is just another school night.  And now, today, when the only emails and social media posts you get are full of Thanksgiving, the games are starting up, and you are just…at school or work…that’s some next-level fomo.

Whatever your position on Thanksgiving (either of them) are, I would hope that we can all agree that the giving-of-the-thanks part is a net positive.  We could and should be grateful more than once a year and at a Jewish school, we have multiple opportunities each day to express our gratitude.  But since I am feeling all the Thanksgiving feels as I write my weekly blog post, I figured if I can’t watch the game, or see the family, or eat the food, the one thing I can do is express a little gratitude.

What I am grateful for this (American) Thanksgiving:

  • I am grateful for the soon-to-be gift of dual American and Canadian citizenship.  (Spoiler Alert!  Jaimee and I passed our citizenship tests and are waiting for the call to God Save the King!  We are looking forward to sharing the ceremony with our local community.)  Seven years a Canadian has been a blessing for our family and we remain proud Americans.  Doubly-blessed are we.
  • I am grateful for the men and women who defend the Land, State and People of Israel, our Holy Homeland.  We pray for the return of all the hostages and a peaceful resolution to this current conflict.  We are so hopeful that the world calms down enough for our younger daughter, Maytal, to have her semester-in-Israel experience this January, but regardless, the safety and security of Israel is never to be taken for granted and always to be grateful for.  Now more than ever.  Am Yisrael Chai.
  • I grateful for the technology that keeps me connected to friends and family.  COVID or no COVID, it is miracle that FaceTime, Zoom and Google Meet allow us to “see” parents, grandparents and friends across borders and thousands of miles.
  • I am eternally grateful to have a wife, Jaimee, whose Type A/perfectionist mothering and wife-ing creates so much space for me to dedicate my time and energy to my work and my passion.
  • I am thankful to have landed in a Jewish community that is extraordinarily capable and generous; a community that is committed to its future by its support for Jewish day school.
  • I am grateful to have landed in a Jewish day school that is full of committed, talented, caring, innovating and hardworking teachers.  A school is only as good as its teachers and we have a pretty great school!

I could go on, of course, but let me just say that I am also grateful to anyone and everyone who has ever read, shared, or commented on one of my 450+ blog posts over the years.  You often wonder/worry that you are speaking into the wind, but every now and again someone takes the time to let you know that they are, in fact, paying attention.  And that always feels great.

For my friends in the States…enjoy Thanksgiving!  For my friends in Canada…enjoy Thursday!

This is being planned with all due haste, and I do have a seat at the table, so please know that all the details of the program and our school’s participation are coming out just as soon as humanly possible.

Eight Joyous Nights to Celebrate Eight Inspirational Lights

It is sometimes difficult to find new ground to tread – especially when it comes to the Jewish Holidays.  There are some holidays (like Sukkot and Passover) where I kinda recycle/upgrade the same basic idea each year.  [Like this and this.]  There are some holidays (like Yom Kippur) where I take a basic premise or prompt and respond differently each year.  [Like this.]  And then there are those holidays, like Chanukah, where I kinda do a bit both, and perhaps not so artfully.  Like this.

This year, I want to do something different.  It will be something borrowed and something new.  To the degree that Chanukah is a re(dedication); to the degree that the lights of the chanukiah are intended to serve as a public statement and an inspiration; and because the season tends to encourage a sense of gratitude, I am going to dedicate my annual Chanukah Blog Post to eight lights – either people, places or ideas – that have inspired me as a person and as a professional.  By doing so, I hope to shine a light of thankfulness upon them and to light a light under me to try harder and be better.  If the idea speaks to you, pick a night (or pick all eight) and identify those lights who have lit your path, and figure out a way that makes sense to you, to honor and celebrate those people and ideas who inspire you.

Night #1

I dedicate the first night to my father of blessed memory, Michael Mitzmacher.  It will be ten years this summer since he has passed and it only gets better and worse each year.  To learn more about my father and how his legacy has shaped and continues to shape me, please check out this blog post that I published in September of 2015 where I reflect with a little distance on his passing: Remembering My Dad.

Night #2

I dedicate the second night to my first professional mentor and role model in the field of Jewish Education, Dr. David Ackerman.  We have not been in touch for quite a while, but it doesn’t diminish the impact he made on my life and my career.  I don’t wear a bow-tie, but I do go by “Doc”.  To learn more about the original Doc, perhaps more than you (or he!) would want to know, you can revisit this blog post from April 2011: Mentor in a Speedo.

Night #3

This night I seek to remember the life and legacy of Esther Ohayon Z”l and to revel in the strength and courage of her daughter, Orly, who survived the car crash that claimed her mother.  Esther was Maytal’s teacher in Preschool and Orly is a graduate of the Martin J. Gottlieb Day School (MJGDS) where I served as Head from 2010-2014.  This was one of the hardest things to write about and one of the most meaningful.  I think about Orly often (not that I have told her) when I think about what it means to not only survive a tragedy, but to find a way to thrive in its aftermath.  I published A Sukkah for Orly in September 2013.

Night #4

I dedicate this night to the selfless and humble example of Samuel and Esther Galinsky, names you will not recognize unless you live in Jacksonville, Florida, but a story that I hope will stick.  Here is a brief snippet about them from a larger speech I gave at the celebration of the fiftieth anniversary of MJGDS:

“Samuel and Esther Galinsky were, by all accounts, modest and unassuming members of our synagogue.  They participated in synagogue life and were respected members of the congregation.  They cared about Jewish education, but had no children of their own.  They were, in many ways, like any other couple.  When they died, their friends mourned their passing.  And that should be the end of the story.  But it isn’t.  Because this ordinary couple did something extraordinary.  With no fanfare and no notice, Samuel and Esther Galinsky left the Jacksonville Jewish Center amongst the most significant gifts it has ever received – $3 million.  And it was given for one purpose – this childless couple gave their fortune to ensure that Jewish children would be able to have a Jewish education.  Has there ever been a more selfless gift?  Have any people ever more embodied the idea of L’dor V’dor?”

Let their memory serve as an example to us all…

Night #5

This is a night to celebrate the light that lights all our schools…our teachers.  A school is only as good as its teachers and good teachers feeling good about teaching is the best recipe.  I think for many parents, schooling during COVID opened up a lot of eyes to how amazing our teachers are and so, here, I’d like to revisit my plea to honor and celebrate those who dedicate their lives to the sacred and holy task of educating children by asking that you read If You Really Want to Appreciate Teachers, Give Them the Benefit of the Doubt, which was published in May of 2020.

Night #6

This one will be a bit of a leap, but on this night I want to think about Killer Mike.  I am a bit leery linking my January 2016 post called, Praying With Your Legs in 2016: What JDS Can Learn From Killer Mike, because re-reading it in 2022, I am not sure that I love everything that I had to say.  But the money quote, the thing that I want to remember on the Sixth Night of Chanukah is,

…the second takeaway – and the one that has more applicability to Jewish day school – is Killer Mike’s proscription for how to best support underserved communities.  He lays out a vision of empathy which can only be achieved through relationship.  This requires us to leave our comfort zones and engage with the wider world.  In Killer Mike’s context he is talking essentially about white, middle-class folk, but in it I heard echoes of a common concern families have about the ghettoization of Jewish day schools, their lack of racial diversity and the impact it has on children who will need to live, work and contribute to a multicultural world.

To make a difference in the world, I want to rededicate myself to the idea that I need to do more than engage in hashtag activism; I need to engage with people and communities outside my own.

Night #7

For night seven, I cast my eyes southward – not just south of the border, but to the actual South.  As we enter our sixth year in Ottawa, I am reminded that we will soon have lived longer in Ottawa than any other place we have ever lived.  It will beat out the seven years we lived in Jacksonville, Florida.  For this night, I want to reflect on what made living in that community so special and reflect back that light to build upon what makes living here special as well.  So there is salty taste of southern hospitality to be found in L’hitraot Y’all: A Farewell to Seven Years of SaltLife published in June of 2017.

Night #8

Chanukah is about miracles.  So I will close out this holiday by reflecting on The Disruptive Miracle of Silvia Tolisano, which I wrote – in shock and tears – in March of 2021.  I still cannot believe she’s gone.

Hopefully, your family is planning on joining our OJCS Family in this triumphant return to an actual, in-person Annual Chanukah Family Program on Tuesday, December 20th at 6:30 PM in the Gym!

Chag urim sameach from my family to yours!

What is Lost and What is Gained When Blessings Become Songs

[NOTE: I will be in the States next Sunday-Wednesday attending my first Fall Retreat as a rabbinic student at the Academy for Jewish Religion.  I was asked to share a brief iyun about Birkat Ha’Mazon.  You will find it below.  It is not intended to describe what is or is not true for the children and families at OJCS; rather it is a larger observation about what I do believe is true for many children and families in the larger Jewish world.]

I’m not sure by what age I realized that all the “whoop-dee-doo”s and “sour cream”s were not officially part of the liturgy, but it was definitely older than it ought to be.

Like a lot of folk, my introduction to Birkat Ha’Mazon came at Camp (for me it was UAHC Camp Swig, of blessed memory) and what was missing by way of almost any sense of where this complex and important recitation of blessings after meals actually came from, or what it was intended to do, was made up for by way of ruach.  In fact, I’d say there was an inverse relationship between the attention paid towards singing Birkat Ha’Mazon as a community-building song of ruach and the attention paid towards a religious understanding of why we take the time after eating to thank God in a very specific way for the meal we just ate.

And I don’t think this is unique to me.  After about 25 years in Jewish Education, where I have worked from camps to congregations to Israel experiences to day schools – all in either Community or Conservative contexts – I feel pretty confident that the majority of children in our camps, schools, and congregations if they encounter Birkat Ha’Mazon at all, will experience it as a song with lots of changes in melody/tempo (depending on how many parts they include), lots of elaborate hand-motions, clapping and table-banging, and plenty of creative inserts, mostly innocent, occasionally not so much.  And what is true for Birkat Ha’Mazon, I believe is likely true for tefillah in general.  And so instead of zooming in on the particular brachot of Birkat Ha’Mazon, I want to zoom out and ask the broader question of what does it mean when our blessings and prayers are (only) experienced as songs (and largely songs without [Hebrew] comprehension).

What is gained and what is lost?

Clearly what is lost is understanding, at least more than just in the broadest sense.  I assume most children know that Birkat Ha’Mazon is our way of thanking God for the food we just ate.  I assume most (including adults) don’t know its Biblical source, its Rabbinic formulation, its specific blessings and themes, etc., and most don’t wrestle with either its theological implications (Do we believe in a world without the needy?) or its modern-day relevencies (What do we really know about the means of production?).  What is gained if done with any regularity, I would argue, is not just ruach, but an implicit sense of ritual and structure that is largely inoperative for many of our children (and families) outside the context.  They may not conceive of singing Birkat Ha’Mazon as fulfilling halakhah, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.

Where does that leave those of us tasked with inspiring children and families to take on (what for most are) non-normative practices like daily brachot and tefillah?  If ruach to prayer is like the traditional placement of honey on the alef-bet, then, yes, absolutely let the sweetness and joy of communal singing be the price of admission, and don’t sweat the mild dispresect that comes as its cost.  But let’s not let that be the end either!

My takeaway from having been asked to prepare this iyun is to bring a version of it back to my school.  If our students can prepare weekly divrei torah (which they can and do), let’s see if once a month a student can prepare an iyun Birkat Ha’Mazon and by doing so, make our lunchtime tables not just a place for raucous singing, but also a place for meaning and reflection.  What might you do in your context?  Can’t wait to find out…

Expat Files: Why Don’t We Make Hand Turkeys?

I distinctly recall during my first year here in Canada, as the calendar moved into October, being excited to celebrate my first Thanksgiving in Canada – or as we call it in the States, “Canadian Thanksgiving”.  I kept waiting for the teachers in the youngest grades to start teaching the (Canadian) Thanksgiving story, primarily so I could learn it, and for the school to start to fill with hand-turkeys and whatever the equivalent of Pilgrim hats and Native American headdresses would be.

Nope!

Depending on who I spoke with and what their understanding was, I learned two things pretty early:

  1. Canadian Thanksgiving ain’t American Thanksgiving.
  2. Jews don’t really do Canadian Thanksgiving.

Now neither is technically nor universally true.  There is a LOT that is the same between how Thanksgiving came to be in both places and what traditions have built up around them.  You have an origin story centered around a ship’s arrival to a new land.  You have a deep connection to the harvest.  You even have football (if you want to call the CFL “football)!  For my American friends who want a primer on competing Thanksgivings, this is my recommendation.

And there are Jews who celebrate Thanksgiving in Canada (and not just American expats who do it November)!  However, it does play out differently here.  Some say it is because it so much closer to the Jewish High Holidays and Sukkot that the big ideas – harvest, family and gratitude – have already been addressed and so there isn’t a need to do it all over again so soon.  (Sometimes it falls during the Jewish holidays.)  Some say that it – in Canada – had or has Christian overtones that make it feel less comfortable for Jews to fully embrace.  But there are plenty of Jewish families in Canada who will do up the whole thing.  For my American friends who want a primer on why Jews are less likely to celebrate Canadian Thanksgiving, this is my recommendation.

More important than of this, of course, is the opportunity that Thanksgiving grants me to write a blog post of gratitude.  (When you commit to writing a weekly post, you have to take your inspiration when it comes.)  I focus my energy around Rosh Hashanah to do a bit of annual reflection.  I focus my energy around Yom Kippur to lean into forgiveness.  I focus my energy around Sukkot to encourage new practices and traditions.  Starting now, I think it will be my tradition – my way of connecting to Thanksgiving in Canada – to have an annual opportunity to focus my energy on gratitude.  (That way, I can still make the focus of American Thanksgiving – which my family still celebrates – on overeating and overwatching football.)

What I am grateful for this Thanksgiving:

  • I never get political in my blog, but I don’t think it will make huge waves to say that I am very grateful that we are living here in Canada during this most interesting of times on our continent.
  • I am grateful for the technology that keeps me connected to friends and family.  Living through a pandemic 20 years ago would be unimaginable without FaceTime and Zoom and Google Meet.  That we get to “see” parents and grandparents across closed borders and thousands of miles is truly a modern-day miracle.
  • I am eternally grateful to have a wife, Jaimee, whose Type A/perfectionist mothering and wife-ing creates so much space for me to dedicate my time and energy to my work and my passion.
  • I am thankful to have landed in a Jewish community that is extraordinarily capable and generous; a community that is committed to its future by its support for Jewish day school.
  • I am grateful to have landed in a Jewish day school that is full of committed, talented, caring, innovating and hardworking teachers.  A school is only as good as its teachers and we have a pretty great school!

I could go on, of course, but let me just say that I am also grateful to anyone and everyone who has ever read, shared, or commented on one of my 350+ blog posts over the years.  You often wonder/worry that you are speaking into the wind, but every now and again someone takes the time to let you know that they are, in fact, paying attention.  And that always feels great.

Feel free to share what you are grateful for in the comments or, more importantly, with friends and family.  Happy Thanksgiving!