Stand With Israel – A Floor, But Not a Ceiling

How Did “Going to School” Become an Act of Courage?

I do not have any media training, but I know a good line. And after having done more media hits than I ever would have imagined (and I imagined “zero” so it isn’t that many), the one that seems to resonate the most is the one that still seems the craziest no matter how true:

The choice to open up school should not be considered an act of bravery; the choice to send your children to school should not be considered an act of courage.

And yet that is the current state of affairs here in the Jewish Community School in our nation’s capital. We have parents afraid to send their children to school because of the rise of anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism. We have parents from other local schools looking to move their children to our school because of the rise of anti-Semitism. We have welcomed new Israeli families forced to leave Israel because of the events of October 7th. We have all of that at the same time – we are scared to stand together too visibly and we are scared not to stand together so as not to feel invisible. We are devastated by what is happening in Israel and we are depressed by what is happening around the corner. We are defiant and we are resilient and we are confused and we are exhausted…so exhausted.

My favourite picture of the month is the one featured above – new Israeli students gazing at this thing called “snow”. (And they don’t know the half of it.) Our school is so grateful that it is able to make a meaningful contribution at this time by creating a space for Israeli children to be just that – children. To gaze in wonder at the frozen water dripping from the sky at least for a small while not having to wonder about the wider world and what comes next. We are a school, and that is supposed to be a safe place for children. Canadian Jewish Day Schools are not supposed to be shot at overnight, or receive bomb threats, or be protested. The eight year-olds at our Jewish school in Ottawa are not orchestrating the Israel Defense Forces in Gaza. It would never occur to anyone in the Jewish community I know to find a local madrassa in Ottawa and terrorize their children because we are upset at Hamas. How are we living in a world where it makes sense to attempt to terrorize Jewish children for decisions made by a government thousands of miles away? You want to peacefully protest Israel? Go for it. But making parents afraid to send their children to school?

How do we explain to the children in our school what is happening without traumatizing them? We use examples from Jewish history and from Jewish text to nourish and to inspire. We pray and we write letters and we donate and we welcome new Israeli friends. We teach media literacy and fact from fiction. We lobby and we advocate. We stand together.

How do we ensure our children get to be children? We play and we learn Math and we learn French and we learn Science. We have assemblies and we have field trips and we have special programs. We laugh and we sing and we do all the normal things. We stand together.

I don’t know how long this delicate dance will continue. Each day we calibrate how much space this should take up at each grade-level. Each day we muster up the strength to teach and to love our students, even when brokenhearted. Each day we come prepared for noise, but pray for quiet. Each week we share news about security hoping it will be the last week it is needed.

The goal of terrorism is to cause terror and I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t had an effect. But we refuse to stand down or to stand still. This is an inflection point and our children will be shaped by what we do now. Am Yisrael Chai is not a hashtag, but an imperative. Am Yisrael Chai isn’t just the rallies and the marches – however important those things are – it is living a Jewish life in full and in the open. I’ve never been prouder to run a Jewish day school. What we do now ensures that the next generation will stand up and stand with Israel when it inevitably becomes necessary. What we do now helps ensure that there will be an Israel, which with the rise of anti-Semitism reveals itself to be more needed than ever.

It is true that operating a school shouldn’t be an act of courage, but if it is, colour our school courageous – from the admin to the teachers to the office to the security guards to the maintenance people. And it is true that sending your children to school shouldn’t be an act of bravery, but if it is let Am Yisrael Chai be sending your children to a Jewish school open to receive them with loving arms. Each day the school bell rings, the doors open, Jewish children enter with smiles, and we participate in the miracle of Am Yisrael Chai. Today, tomorrow and forever. Ken y’hi ratzon.

Four Better Questions Than “Are You OK?”

Each morning our students enter school to the sounds of Israeli songs of peace…

Each time we do Tefillah we add tehillim (psalms) and/or special prayers for Israel, the IDF and/or the missing and the kidnapped…

Each week we revisit our layers of security according to what is true and communicate carefully and clearly to our families…

Each day we decide how much “current events” should or shouldn’t be part of each particular grade and class…

Each week brings a new rally or vigil…including this weekend…

Each day brings new and worthy charities and causes to support…

Each week brings new Israeli families to our community and to our school…

Each child in our school, each parent in our community, each teacher in our classroom is differently touched by what is happening each and every moment of the day…

…it makes a routine like “weekly blogging” feel like nothing more than spitting into the wind.

Two weeks ago, I blogged explicitly on the pain and sadness we are experiencing as a result of the terrorist attacks on our beloved Israel. It felt important to say those words and, maybe, it provided me with a hint of catharsis.

Last week, I blogged about the launch of our school’s new “Goal-Setting Conferences” coming in a few weeks. It felt important to share a truly meaningful change in our school’s approach to parent and student engagement, and, maybe, it provided me with a hint of normalcy.

This week? I feel stuck.

All the blog posts have already been written.

I could write about the coming dissonance between those who have already started to move on a bit and those who are still sitting still in the thick of it. This is true for our students, our teachers, our parents, our community and – for sure- the wider world. But someone smarter than I has already written it.

I could write about the challenges our alumni are experiencing in high schools and universities throughout Canada (including my own daughters) with anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism and leaders too careful (or too scared) to call it by its name. But everyone is writing about that and ten minutes of doomscrolling on X (Twitter) is more than enough.

I could write about the impact of trauma on leaders of Jewish schools and institutions. But I just came back from a Day School Leadership Training Institute (DSLTI) Retreat on this topic and there are books and articles you can Google that will tell you all you need to know.

Or.

I could write my first “Tour of the OJCS Blogosphere” where I highlight the amazing work that our teachers and students produce and share with the world. But it just doesn’t feel like this is the time for that kind of post. (Don’t worry…that post is coming one of these weeks.)

Or.

I could skip a week. I could give myself permission not to blog. Other than my mother, my wife, my friend Nancy and my Aunt Donna…I mean…

Of course, I’m nearly 500 words in now so I guess that’s out.

So here is what I will do. A simple request. If you are feeling like asking people if they are okay feels a bit trite or tone-deaf these days, but you want to show that you care…please take time this week to ask all the people you care about in your life, these four questions (yes, of course it had to be “four questions”):

Are you getting enough sleep?
Are you getting enough exercise or fresh air?
Are you eating healthily and properly?
What can I do?

If we can each do that for a few people in our lives this week, maybe, just maybe, it will be a slightly better week than the one before.

Ken y’hi ratzon.

The Question That Broke My Heart

“Dr. Mitzmacher…what if Israel is destroyed? What happens to the Jewish People? What happens to us?”

This is a real question that a child – multiple children – asked me at a Middle School Town Hall on Tuesday morning. In 2023. Seventy-five years after the modern State of Israel came into existence. And I have been gutted ever since…

I can tell you what I said, hoping and believing it to be true. I said that he should not be trying to carry the weight of such a thing right now. That as awful as it all is, and still may be, that he doesn’t have to worry that there won’t be an Israel. And then I paused. And then I said that it is also true that for thousands of years there was a Jewish People without an Israel and that the true lesson of Jewish History is that we survive, we carry forward, we rebuild, and we thrive. No matter what. Always and forever. Am Yisrael Chai. That’s what I said. And at no point in my life did I ever believe for a nanosecond that it might not be true. And in my heart of hearts, I don’t believe it now. But my belief is wrapped in fear and doubt.

This is not a blog post where I share resources.

I have been overwhelmed with requests from Jewish teachers in public and private schools, from Jewish parents from the larger Ottawa Jewish Community, and from public and private schools themselves – all looking for resources, for ideas, and in some cases for direct help in teaching, in facilitating experiences, talking with kids and families, etc. And it is my pleasure to be of service. I’d like to think the “Community” in the Ottawa Jewish Community School is more than just an adjective describing who is in our school, but for who we serve as a school. I will continue to do whatever I can in support of larger Jewish Ottawa.

This is not a blog post where I make you feel better.

I have a GoogleDoc whose entire purpose is keeping track of who in our OJCS Extended Family has been called into duty, kidnapped or murdered. How is that possible? The only thing worse than having to create the document is to have to keep editing it, and not for the better. Because of our school’s significant number of Israeli families and faculty, there is not one child or adult at OJCS who does not personally know someone who is directly impacted by the ongoing tragedy in Israel. Not one. Consciously or not; known or not – these last days have been a delicate dance between the need to provide our students with a sense of normalcy and safety and joy, and the reality that many of our students – and parents and teachers – are struggling with sadness and trauma. I don’t know that we are getting it right, but we are doing our best.

And teachers…

The hardest thing we ask our teachers to do is to come to work with broken and heavy hearts and be present for our children. For some the distraction of work is welcome, for some the smiles of children a salve, but for most the anxiety and the fear and the pain are right below the surface. All through the week, teachers have had to pause, to take a break so they can break down, and to put themselves back together. Spontaneous moments of solidarity, wordless hugs and tearful nods of mutual recognition dot the day. I have never been more proud to work in a Jewish school. For those of us who believe education is a calling, it is to this that we have been called. And our teachers not only answer the call, they do so with love.

This is not a blog post about security.

Those conversations are internally focused for all the right reasons. There is nothing more important than ensuring the physical and psychological wellbeing of our students. Our entire concentric circle of community from school outwards to country is united in this effort and it makes me proud to be a Jew and a soon-to-be Canadian.

This is going to get harder…

And I don’t just mean the war effort on the ground in Israel, but yes. Each day that goes on we have to calibrate the correct amount of space for this to occupy in school. Too much space can be overwhelming. Not enough space can be disrespectful and tone-deaf. Different grades will require a different calibration; individual children will differ in their needs and wants. “Standing With Israel” today feels like a clear call to action. It will likely be less clear what it means day-to-day, the longer this tragedy unfolds. All I can tell you is that we are paying attention and we are trying to get it right.

What can we do?

The impulse when faced with such overwhelming feelings is to do something. But what? Social media is presenting a dizzying, and sometimes conflicting, array of donation opportunities and drives. As we try to move forward, our school will be paying attention to the following buckets of activities:

Providing accurate, age-and-stage appropriate information.
Creating space for reflection, questions and sharing of feelings.
Offering direct service to students, teachers and families who are coping with trauma.
Praying – using contemporary prayers and blessings for Israel, the IDF, the kidnapped and the missing, etc., and traditional modes, such as the chanting of Tehillim (Psalms) as is done during times of communal distress.
As appropriate, raising money, writing cards, and taking other hands-on measures in direct support of the local and international Israeli community.

But for now, on this day when hate has been called down upon us, I choose otherwise. I choose this school – safe, open, and proudly Zionistic throughout its entire history, but never more than now. I choose this community – standing in unambiguous solidarity with its Israeli and Jewish brothers and sisters. I choose this country – whose political leadership of all parties have offered the strongest rebuke of terrorism and support for Israel that I can remember hearing. I choose a life filled with Judaism and suffused with Israel. And I choose love. Tonight after we light the Shabbat candles, my wife and I will bless our daughter as we have done each Shabbat of her life. We do this knowing how lucky we are to be able to do it, grateful for our blessings, devastated for those families no longer with parents to bless children, or children to be blessed. That’s all I can do. And I pray it is enough.

Am Yisrael Chai.