Thank You From Schoolteacher
As a retired educator from the Philadelphia public schools who is also a member of the Alliance for Philadelphia Public Schools (grassroots organization dedicated to preserving public schools), I was interested in reading Sophie Panzer’s article on “Jewish Teachers Express Concern about Schools District’s Reopening Plans” (Feb. 18).
I was so appreciative of her research on the environmental issues in the buildings, the teachers interviewed for the article and the history of the labor movement including the importance of teacher labor leader Karen Lewis who recently died. It was one of the most in-depth articles on the current problems of teaching and reopening during the pandemic that I’ve read. Thank you so much for your coverage of a topic I deeply care about.
Ilene Blitzstein Poses | Philadelphia
Student Is Right to Be Concerned
Thank you, Sophia Rodney (“I’m a Student and I’m Afraid of Where My Party Is Headed,” Jan. 28). Being concerned about anti-Semitism on campuses across the country and by certain congresswomen promoting anti-Israel BDS is commendable and should be supported by your fellow classmates, not criticized as “Trumpianism.”
These congresswomen — Omar, Tlaib, Ocasio-Cortez — should be ostracized for their blatant anti-Semitism.
Kathleen M. Levin | Philadelphia
Overcoming Willful Blindness
When Donald Trump began his run for president in 2015, he was characterized by Sen. Ted Cruz as a pathological liar. Soon Cruz and millions of others ignored the lies and Trump won the election. Needlessly, the endless lying continued throughout his presidency. Rabbi Janine Jankovitz is right in condemning those who turned a blind eye to his behavior (“The Question of Unity,” Jan. 28).
Over the years, the SPLC and the ADL have provided our security services with data that has supplemented their own noting that the biggest threat to our democracy is from white supremacy. Yet Trump invoked his Orwellian mantra about the election (I won, it was stolen) in spite of the evidence against it. The result was the riotous insurrection led by white supremacists.
As of this writing, there are many in the media and in Congress who are downplaying the seriousness of the revolt and the part white supremacists played. Lest we forget, white supremacists hate Jews as much as any other race, color or creed. Once again, willful blindness plagues our body politic. Though anti-Semitism may not end in our lifetime, parading and preaching it ought to be a hate crime punishable by law or we will continue to see T-shirts emblazoned ‘Camp Auschwitz’ and worse. l
In February, Jewish communities across North America and Israel marked Jewish Disabilities Awareness & Inclusion Month. It was heartening that JDAIM gave voice to millions of Jews with disabilities and highlighted disabilities inclusion achievements, but it was not enough. Now that February has come and gone, we must continue to work urgently to ensure our communities are welcoming and empowering throughout the year.
Today there are around 1 billion people with disabilities worldwide. They’re part of our families and circles of loved ones, members of our day schools, summer camps, synagogues and social networks. Despite this, they often live on the margins and live even more precariously during times of crises.
COVID-19 has disproportionately affected people with disabilities, upending the support, services and efforts at accessibility and community integration that have been key to their progress. The significant gains made on disabilities issues over the years are in danger of being lost.
People with disabilities have once again been largely absent from public discourse on pandemic needs. This absence, and the media’s reliance on old stereotypes, made it that much harder for them to retain their hard-fought place in society.
People with disabilities have faced outsized pandemic-related challenges. They have higher rates of unemployment and loneliness and isolation. The suspension of in-person gatherings is further exacerbated by the lower rates of digital literacy in this population, cutting them off from vitally important activities and medical information.
For many years, we have worked with people with disabilities to strengthen and promote their broader participation in society. There are three important objectives that can help Jewish leaders and institutions mitigate losses and advance self-empowerment.
First, to be inclusive, people with disabilities need to lead, be seen and be heard. People with disabilities must be central to discussions about needs and creation of services. They must have lead roles in setting community agendas. Truly inclusive communities are shaped by people with disabilities.
Second, embrace independent living. It’s a cost effective, safe and rewarding path to inclusive societies. People with disabilities having homes of their own is an important step toward achieving full acceptance. As a society, we need to re-envision self-management skills, social connections, support networks, civic responsibility and create person-centered services that are financially sustainable.
Israel Unlimited, JDC’s strategic partnership with the Israeli government and the Ruderman Family Foundation, initiated a supported housing program with support from the Azrieli Foundation to empower people with disabilities to live in their own apartments, be involved in the community and receive support and guidance from a care coordinator and mentor. The program assisted 400 people with disabilities in 37 cities across Israel. Research shows that living in the community is 30% more cost effective than an institution.
Third, people with disabilities need increased resources for better living as they age. Although the pandemic shone a spotlight on the outsized risks faced by the elderly, there has been little focus on the growing demographic of people with disabilities who are living longer now. On average, people with disabilities start aging 10 to 15 years earlier than those without earlier diagnosed disabilities. With life expectancy rising, we must engage in research, policy and programs to address the needs of older adults with disabilities.
Jewish philanthropists and government bodies in Israel and North America can be leaders in this space and build on their successful history of creating and supporting services for seniors. JDC has launched a comprehensive study in Israel aiming to build a strategic map and practical options for support. We hope this will become a model.
The current crisis provides new opportunities to realize the dream of people with disabilities to be fully valued members of our communities. It’s not just a matter of basic human justice, but an essential condition for socioeconomic advancement and a strong and resilient social fabric. When Jewish communities and Israel partner with people with disabilities to fulfill this promise, we give new meaning to an old and much-cherished Jewish concept of self-actualization: “If you will it, it is no dream.”
Efrat Stern is the director of the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee’s Israel Unlimited and Orly Fruchter is the manager of Neurodiverse Initiatives for the Azrieli Foundation Canada. This piece was originally published by eJewishPhilanthropy.com.
Rabbi Akiva Pollack speaks at Chachmei Lublin Yeshiva in Poland during a RAJE trip. | Photo by Paul Minkovsky
There wasn’t anything quite like the organization Russian American Jewish Experience in Philadelphia before Rabbi Akiva Pollack showed up.
Pollack, 45, learned about RAJE in 2009, having just come to Philadelphia to work at CBS Community Center, home to Congregation Beth Solomon in Somerton. Soon after he arrived, he met a rabbi who worked with RAJE in New York, which was the only place at the time to get involved with the organization.
“And he told us all about programming, and he told us all about how they literally have hundreds of young Russian Jews sitting in their center, learning about Judaism, going on trips. And I fell in love with the program when he told us that,” Pollack said. He contacted the New York office and told them he’d love to bring RAJE to Philly.
Today, Pollack is the CEO of RAJE Philly, teaching and traveling with young local Jews to Israel, Poland and elsewhere in Europe. Participants who complete the Leadership Fellowship are eligible for those free trips.
“We’re really trying hard to help create more Jewish leaders,” Pollack said. And name aside, they don’t discriminate: Around 75% of their participants are Russian-American Jews.
You’ve been a part of RAJE since 2009. Are you still attracted to the organization’s mission for the same reasons?
I’ll tell you the truth, maybe you shouldn’t put this in print, but I do it for the free trip [laughs]. I do love going from place to place, I love traveling. So that’s always very exciting, which actually makes it a little bit hard now, because everything’s closed, you can’t really get around.
But I love teaching about Judaism, teach about Israel, and then actually going and seeing it in practice.
That’s what really gets me excited, to be able to teach that and give it over to everybody and show how real Judaism is, how ancient Judaism is.
What’s the most significant change you’ve seen in the population that RAJE serves?
It’s a little bit more difficult to get people interested in a free trip to Israel — it just doesn’t mean as much as it did 10 years ago. So you need to add some things to it — our European option, the Poland trip and things like that. But in general, people are still very interested.
Is there anything you’ve done differently during the pandemic that you want to continue doing?
We’ve really worked hard on making Zoom as exciting and as accessible as possible. We have very few in-person classes.
So what we’ve done is have branches of RAJE all joined together and done our Leadership Fellowship, instead of it just being to Philadelphia, coming to one community center, we have all of the branches coming together on one Zoom or two Zooms. And we’ll have 50, 60 people at each Zoom session from all over the country. And I see that’s exciting to people because they get to meet people from all over the place.
In many ways, it’s actually better for us because we’re able to have educators from all over the country that’re able to speak.
Another thing that we did recently — we’re actually starting tonight, so I don’t know how it’s going to go, but I’m really excited about it — we did something called the Olami Pro Series, which is really focused not on Jewish education and Israel, but on professional development. And we have major CEOs, we have Hollywood stars coming in, and teaching students how to really be successful in the fields that they are in.
Philabundance Community Kitchen students prepare food for KleinLife deliveries. | Photo by Jonathan Gonzalez
When KleinLife shut down congregate programs at the start of the pandemic, the organization’s clients were told to stay home for their own safety.
Unfortunately, those who relied on meal programs didn’t know where their next dinner would come from.
“We got completely inundated by the phone calls from the seniors that we usually serve,” said Andre Krug, president and CEO of KleinLife.
He knows exactly how severe the food insecurity crisis has become. Before last March, 309 seniors depended on his organization’s meal support program. At the height of the pandemic, that number grew to more than 800.
“It was a huge, huge undertaking. Basically, we went from delivering about 1,000 meals a week to delivering about 3,500 meals a week,” he said.
To make matters worse, he added, the volunteer pool that usually stepped up to cook meals at KleinLife’s facilities, synagogues and community centers was no longer able to prepare and distribute the food due to social distancing requirements. Many volunteers were more than 60 years old and considered especially vulnerable to the coronavirus.
That meant the organization made up the difference by buying meals, which put a strain on resources and required significant fundraising.
To meet the growing need, KleinLife announced on Feb. 16 that it will partner with regional hunger relief organization Philabundance, which will be preparing food for deliveries in the Philabundance Community Kitchen facility. The PCK program provides a 16-week course in culinary training to adults with little or no income.
“A big part of that is learning about the science of food, learning about how to handle food safely so they can then get a safe food handling certificate, learning about how to lead and follow management in a working kitchen,” Philabundance CEO Loree Jones said. “It’s also about the life skills that you need to be able to hold to be gainfully employed.”
PCK had to pause operations and switch to virtual learning at the height of the pandemic last year, but Philabundance has been able to return students to the kitchen using masks and social distancing.
When Brian Gralnick, director of social responsibility at Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia, took a tour of the PCK facility, he realized it could provide an opportunity to tackle rising food insecurity in the community. Jewish Federation identified a lead funder to support the partnership: Tony Schneider, a founder of the Mitzvah Food Program.
“Many of our community members are fighting to make ends meet, including our most vulnerable seniors,” Schneider said in a statement. “I’m moved by the devastating effect that the pandemic has had and was anxious to invest in a new concept that could have an immediate and meaningful impact on those most in need. The Jewish Federation’s plan for a collaboration between KleinLife and Philabundance connected multiple elements — helping vulnerable seniors while also investing in the long-term success and resiliency of our community.”
Jones said the partnership will give KleinLife clients access to a variety of healthy meals that cater to diverse diets, rather than relying on a single option. Menus will include vegetarian and pescatarian meals along with beef and poultry.
She is painfully aware that the pandemic has exacerbated hunger in the Philadelphia area and throughout the country. She said COVID-19 has increased food insecurity by up to 60%, and her organization serves approximately 135,000 people each week. In the last year, it has distributed more than 50 million pounds of food through a network of 350 partners, including food pantries, houses of worship, community centers and hospitals.
Jones added that seniors are especially vulnerable due to preexisting health conditions, and many have had to choose whether to use their limited money to buy food, buy medications or heat their homes.
She said Philabundance and KleinLife have collaborated on other projects before, but the pandemic made the need for strong partnerships in times of crisis clearer than ever.
“This notion of partnership and collaboration to solve these really big problems is part of our work every day, and definitely is evidenced by this partnership,” she said.
Those were the emotions cutting through me as I looked at my dad’s DNA results. We come from a small Phoenix Jewish family, but this at-home test was showing a big discovery none of us could explain.
“Dad, it says you’re Mormon.” Words I never thought I’d utter. My father’s response shocked me even more.
“I know,” he said as my eyes widened. “I saw that when the results came in. But it’s so preposterous that I just ignored it.”
You can ignore DNA results, but that doesn’t make them go away. The test classifies my dad (and by extension me) as “Mountain West Mormon Pioneers.” We had no idea a scientific test could tell if someone comes from a relatively-new proselytizing religion like the Church of Latter Day Saints.
I was determined to solve this mystery, but the deeper I dove into it the more I realized our lives would never be the same again. When I finally untangled the web, my heart broke as I watched the DNA test steal a part of my dad and his identity. We’re still Jewish, but my father’s paternal lineage was not at all who or what he’d always believed.
“It changed my whole perspective on who I was,” my dad admitted, referring to his identity in the past tense.
At-home DNA testing has become commonplace in the United States and this nearly $10 billion market is now taking off around the world. But there’s a secret side to these kits which the DNA industry doesn’t like to talk about.
Experts find that as many as 11% of people who take a DNA test discover that one of their parents is not their biological parent, according to the American Journal of Physical Anthropology. This sounded ridiculous to me — until it happened twice in my very own family.
The advertising for DNA testing focuses on positive stories of people who were seeking out answers about their ethnic backgrounds. They don’t spotlight families like mine whose lives are turned upside down by a simple swab of the cheek.
For my family, the DNA test wasn’t just adding a new chapter in our lives. It seemed as though it was rewriting our life story. After my mom sent in her sample, we received a cryptic email from a woman whose family also attended Congregation Beth Israel. As I read the stranger’s email, I realized the woman was insinuating she and my mom are sisters. When I found a picture of the woman, my jaw literally dropped. My mom took one look at the photo and made a blunt proclamation.
“Well, we don’t need a DNA test. She’s obviously my sister,” she said as she stared at her new younger sister in amazement.
A third DNA shock brought my family closure to the case of a missing cousin who disappeared in the late ’80s. We believed he had died from AIDS, but learned he had met a different fate.
The DNA test began adding and subtracting the people I called “family” so quickly that I started questioning the very meaning of the word. Are family the people who you are raised with? Or the people you’re related to?
I began documenting my family’s own journey as well as a dozen other families around the world whose lives were torn apart and put back together by DNA testing. Two years of listening in on these families’ roller-coaster journeys is now a podcast called “Suddenly Family.”
Infidelity. Blackmail. Murder mysteries. Kidnapping. Clandestine artificial insemination. These families have experienced it all. Their DNA plots sound more like blockbuster thrillers, but behind that are the emotional firsthand accounts of people who’ve had to pick up the pieces of their lives and start all over again.
What type of relationship do you owe a relative stranger you had never met before the DNA test? What happens to the close family you no longer share a bloodline with?
These were the questions I needed answered and the families who let me listen in on their most intimate DNA moments truly provided them.
I learned more about what the family I’ve had all my life means to me after developing relationships with my newly-discovered family.
Now that the dust has settled, my dad summarizes what this gut-wrenching DNA experience has meant to him: “It’s now just a matter of fact,” he said. “It’s not good. It’s not bad. It just is.” l
Samuel Burke is a three-time Emmy Award-winning news correspondent, Arizona State University graduate and Phoenix native. He now lives in London and is the host of the podcast “Suddenly Family.”
At the time of this writing, it’s almost Purim, which means I am busy writing jokes that poke fun at the stuff we do and obsess about as Jews without offending too many people. Not always easy, and that’s when I am writing for an audience that I know extremely well.
Now imagine writing Jewish jokes outside the bubble. “Saturday Night Live” found out the hard way after a joke about Israel went viral for the wrong reasons. Here’s the joke Michael Che told on the Feb. 20 show: “Israel is reporting that they’ve vaccinated half of their population, and I’m going to guess it’s the Jewish half.”
David Harris of the American Jewish Committee said the joke “accuses Israel of vaccinating only Jews” and “spreading an anti-Semitic lie.” The Reform movement’s Rabbi Rick Jacobs said that the joke “was in poor taste” and that “Israel is a world leader in COVID vaccinations, protecting Jewish and Arab citizens alike.” Gilad Erdan, Israel’s ambassador to the U.S., demanded an apology, tweeting that “perpetuating anti-Semitism is just not funny.”
I heard the joke as a comic riff on the idea that any ethnic state would of course take care of its own before others. But clannishness can be seen as an anti-Semitic trope: When the Anti-Defamation League surveys anti-Semitic attitudes, it includes “Jews stick together more than other Americans” as an anti-Jewish stereotype. I don’t know if Che or whoever wrote the joke was aware of this trope, but that doesn’t absolve them.
The other possibility is that the joke is about an actual controversy: accusations that Israel hasn’t done enough to get vaccines to Palestinian non-citizens living in the West Bank or Gaza. In which case the joke may be harsh and inaccurate criticism of Israel, but is it anti-Semitic? A lot of Israelis have criticized Israel for not getting more vaccines to the Palestinian Authority.
Che’s defender’s say the joke is fair criticism of a country that recently passed a nation-state law that privileges its Jewish population over other groups; a Haaretz columnist writes the joke was “a humorous exaggeration of Israel’s open and systemic discrimination against non-Jews.” Ilana Glazer, the co-star and co-creator of “Broad City,” praised Che, retweeting activists who said the joke told the truth about the “separate and unequal treatment” of Palestinians under occupation.
My hunch is that “SNL” wasn’t aware of any of this discourse, and Jews are attaching their own agendas to a throwaway joke. To me it sounds like a one-liner written by a roomful of writers who live and work in a city with the world’s largest population of Jews outside Israel. It is a joke Jews and even Israelis might tell each other, but which becomes uncomfortable and even anti-Jewish when released into the wild.
But that is just me. For a gut check, I reached out to comedians and entertainers who specialize in Jewish material or often work Jewish events. I asked if the critics are overreacting, and whether these comedians tell jokes in front of Jewish audiences that they wouldn’t share with a wider public.
“I don’t think the writers were thinking about it nearly as much as we think they were,” said Benji Lovitt, a U.S.-born, Israel-based comedian. “The most obvious interpretation is by far the most likely to me and the only reasonable one: that [Che] thinks Israel oppresses Palestinians and that if you’re not Jewish, you’re ‘less than.’ Do I think this joke was a fair and logical expression of that? No, because the premise is flawed. There’s a lot to criticize with Israel but its distribution of vaccinations isn’t one of those things.
“And on top of that, even if the joke was a smart, biting critique on Israeli policy regarding settlement growth, let’s say … what’s it doing on ‘SNL’?”
Joel Chasnoff, a comedian and creator/host of the forthcoming podcast “Interesting Jews,” says the joke may or may not be anti-Semitic — but it’s certainly anti-comedic.
“Ultimately, I think it is anti-Semitic … but I’m on the fence,” said Chasnoff, who recently moved to Israel. “What bugs me most about the joke is that it’s not creative. It’s just so freakin’ easy to put Israel down, make Israel seem like colonialist oppressors, and feed into that whole narrative. So not only is it not true, it’s not artistically inventive. ‘Israel isn’t nice to Palestinians’ — there’s absolutely nothing brave or exploratory in that.”
Talia Reese, once dubbed “the raunchiest Orthodox mom doing stand-up,” thought the joke felt lazy.
“Do I think Michael Che is anti-Semitic? No. I think what he did was irresponsible and to be honest, I didn’t even get the joke at first,” Reese said. “When I heard it, I scratched my head like, ‘The vaccine is available to every Israeli citizen, don’t they know that?’ Then on a second listen, I thought, ‘Oh, they’re trying to make it like the Jews in Israel are hoarding the vaccine for themselves.’ That’s crazy!”
As far as apologizing, “I’m against comedians apologizing for jokes. It’s awkward and absurd,” she said. “The backlash speaks for itself, and bravo to watchdog groups. That’s a job I wouldn’t want. That said, I don’t care if ‘SNL’ apologizes. I do think they should joke responsibly in the future.”
Rami Even-Esh, who leans hard into his Jewish identity as the rapper Kosha Dillz, thought Che’s joke failed because it lacked context. “People can do anti-Semitic things and not inherently be anti-Semitic just as people can uphold white supremacy/racism and not be white supremacists/racist. We need to educate people like Michael. That is our job. We should never cancel.”
Dani Zoldan, who owns the Stand Up NY comedy club, defended the joke.
“I believe that funny is funny no matter how uncomfortable or offensive. We need to be able to laugh at ourselves,” said Zoldan.
But Chasnoff says the “SNL” joke failed because it violated a cardinal rule: It wasn’t true.
“That’s the point of smart comedy — to challenge the common wisdom by presenting truth, even if it’s uncomfortable to hear. If it makes you squirm but it’s true, then good! But this ‘SNL’ joke isn’t opening our eyes to some unspoken truth we’re afraid to discuss. It’s just lazy.” l
Andrew Silow-Carroll is the editor-in-chief of the Jewish Week in New York. This piece was originally published by JTA.
Volunteers from Congregations of Shaare Shamayim write letters to potential donors at the 2020 Super Sunday, a couple weeks before the pandemic took hold. | Photo by Matt Silver
There may not be any in-person socializing, but the organizers of this year’s Super Sunday expect the signature event to be as rewarding as its predecessors.
In 2020, 600 volunteers at five locations across the region made calls, wrote letters, sent texts and posted to social media to friends, neighbors and their local kehillot, exceeding the $500,000 goal for Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia’s largest annual community fundraiser.
Volunteers spoke positively about the camaraderie and sense of community fostered by the event. But call centers are out of the question this year, so Super Sunday will be spread three ways on March 6 and 7.
“This reimagined event is what our community needs to come together,” said Danielle Weiss, a Super Sunday co-chair, who is teaming with Mitch Sterling.
The weekend kicks off from 7:30-8:30 p.m. on March 6 with a virtual Havdalah featuring Joey Weisenberg of Hadar’s Rising Song Institute.
After that, participants are urged to stay online and participate in one of 36 “Schmooze & Share Rooms” hosted by leaders of area synagogues, day schools, camps and nonprofits. Participants will be able to move from room to room.
“The team has done an amazing job of finding ways to engage the community,” Jewish Federation Executive Vice President Melissa Greenberg said.
Super Sunday itself will run from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., with several dozen campaign members, Jewish Federation employees and a hired professional marketing company making donation calls, Greenberg said. The professional marketers are expected to make 6,000 calls. The goal is again $500,000.
Would-be donors may donate online at jewishphilly.org/donate-super-sunday or call 215-832-0899.
Also on Super Sunday, there’s an opportunity to “Do a Mitzvah.” Participants may drop off a bag of food curbside between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. at one of the five area Mitzvah Food Pantries or Shir Ami Congregation in Newtown.
Requested items include Passover foods such as gefilte fish, grape juice, horseradish, matzah meal, matzah and kosher for Passover cereals, crackers and snacks, as well as diapers and women’s feminine hygiene products.
“No matter who is participating, they can probably find something that speaks to them,” Weiss said of Super Sunday participation.
Neither Greenberg nor Weiss is concerned about donor fatigue, despite other Jewish Federation-led charitable drives seeking to assist those struggling because of the pandemic.
“We understand that a lot is being asked of people philanthropically,” Weiss said. “As far as I know, the community has truly stepped up and rallied around each other. … We really have been so moved by the generosity of the community.”
“I am continually inspired by the generosity of the members of our community,” Greenberg said, adding that the new format “presents an opportunity to be creative.” Jewish Federation will keep offering virtual options even after the pandemic ends, as they break down barriers and allow people in Florida, the Jersey shore and the Poconos, among other places, to participate.
“There are lots of different ways for people to connect, and we’ve really learned that this year,” Greenberg said.
Clockwise from top left: Rabbi David Saperstein, Robert Siegel, Eddie Glaude and Annette Gordon-Reed | Screenshot by Sophie Panzer
Rabbi David Saperstein thinks the deaths of African Americans due to COVID-19 and police brutality in 2020 acted like a shofar blast to the nation.
“We are at a moment, in terms of race issues in America, where there is a sense of immediacy, a sense of urgency, a sense of moral compulsion, that we have accepted structural forms of racism for far too long,” he said. “And it’s been a wake-up call.”
The director emeritus of the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism spoke about racial justice on Feb. 24 during “Global Connections: Navigating the New Abnormal,” a monthly leadership panel organized by American Friends of Rabin Medical Center. Robert Siegel, host of NPR’s “All Things Considered” from 1987 to 2018, served as moderator.
For this month’s topic, “America’s Race Crisis: What to Do About It,” Siegel asked his guests about concrete actions Americans could take to heal the harm caused by systemic racism and white supremacy.
Professor Eddie Glaude, chair of the department of African American Studies at Princeton University, responded with questions of his own.
“What is your conception of justice? What is your idea of a just society?” he asked.
He argued that true equality would only be possible if those in positions of power moved away from a model of racial justice as a philanthropic enterprise or charitable gesture and toward a reimagining of society. Siegel pressed him for examples.
“It could involve a range of actions around criminal justice reform and police reform, supporting the repeal of qualified immunity,” he said. “What I think we need broadly, Robert, is a public infrastructure of care, but that’s a discussion for another time.”
Annette Gordon-Reed, a professor of history at Harvard University and a Pulitzer Prize winner, said white people who wanted to fight racism could support people of color by engaging in conversations about race and inequality with their loved ones.
“It’s a very tough thing to confront family members and friends, people who you love and who you depend upon, when they say things or do things that are racially problematic,” she said.
She said that although it’s not an easy task, the conversations are critical, since people are more likely to take these ideas seriously if they come from those they already know and trust.
Saperstein, who is the former United States Ambassador-at-Large for International Religious Freedom, said fighting against gerrymandering and other threats to the Voting Rights Act of 1965 was a crucial step in achieving true equality. He invoked Genesis as a repudiation of racism.
“A whole range of interpretations of the Bible asked, ‘Why would we all be descended from one couple? Why was Adam made from the dust of the four corners of the earth?’ So that none of us can claim that the merit of our ancestors was greater than anyone else’s,” he said.
He expressed concern about the breakdown of bipartisanship in the United States and the threat it posed to the racial justice movement, calling it one of the most dangerous aspects of American political life.
“As you look back, Robert, over the last century, in the 20th century, almost every single achievement of social justice in America happened because of a bipartisan coalition of decency on Capitol Hill, and multiracial, multi-ethnic, multireligious, nonpartisan coalitions in communities across America,” he said.
Siegel also asked the panelists if they believed universal social programs to combat economic inequality, such as public health care, or targeted programs based on the injustices experienced by individual minority groups would be more effective in creating change.
Glaude advocated for a targeted approach in response to the fact that racial inequality was the result of policies that specifically targeted people of color for exclusion and harm. One example was the exclusion of Black people from G.I. Bill benefits that helped build a largely white middle class in the late ’40s and ’50s.
Gordon-Reed argued that both forms of intervention are necessary.
“The advantage of universal [programs] is that you don’t stir people up, and you know everybody gets something, and that’s when you begin the process of knitting the country together, by people sharing something. That’s critical,” she said.
Ki Tisa begins with God instructing Moses that when he is taking a census of the Israelite people, everyone 20 or older shall pay a half-shekel. God says: “The rich shall not pay more and the poor shall not pay less than half a shekel” (Exodus 30:15).
This seemingly simple idea, that each Israelite, regardless of their personal wealth, is required to pay a half-shekel for purposes of the census, has much to teach us. For one thing, there’s the essential lesson that everyone is equal in the eyes of God. Of course, the fact that each person is to give the same amount for purposes of the census doesn’t mean that those who have more aren’t at times expected to give more.
In fact, the Torah has a system of tithing (discussed in Numbers 18:21-26), according to which a tenth of one’s produce was to be presented to a Levite, who was to then give a 10th of the first tithe to a kohen (Numbers 18:26). In later times, there were some rabbis who referred to not just a tithe of produce, but also a tithe of money. And to this day, there are many Jews who donate a tenth of their annual income to charity.
But what the law of the half-shekel teaches us is that, while we all have different amounts that we can — and should — contribute to the community, when it comes to being counted, to determining who matters — in the eyes of God, no less — that rich and poor are totally equal. We all count the same.
Another important lesson the command to give half a shekel teaches us is that nobody is fully complete on their own. Rather than being instructed to give a whole shekel, each person is instructed to give a half-shekel. Each person’s half-shekel needs somebody else’s half-shekel to be complete. We’re all dependent on each other. That’s what it means to be part of a community — we’re connected to and dependent upon each other. We all have to give and participate for the community to be fully complete.
Interestingly, these verses from the beginning of our Torah portion were also read as part of the synagogue service just a few weeks ago on Shabbat Shekalim. Shabbat Shekalim is one of the Arba Parshiyot — four special Torah readings instituted by the Sages on four different Shabbats leading up to Purim and Passover. Shabbat Shekalim occurs on the Shabbat before Rosh Hodesh (the new month) of Adar — or in years like this year it falls on Rosh Hodesh Adar. Adar is, of course, the month in which we celebrate Purim.
This means that we read about the requirement to give a half-shekel a couple of weeks before Purim, and we’re reading it again now, just a little over a week after Purim. The idea of the requirement to give a half-shekel teaching us about what it means to be part of a community connects perfectly with the Purim story.
In the Book of Esther, when Mordechai told Esther to go before the king, to “remove her mask,” and reveal to the king her identity as a Jew and ask for her people to be saved, Esther was hesitant at first. She responded to Mordechai that the king hadn’t summoned her for the past 30 days, and anyone who goes before the king without being called will be killed if the king doesn’t hold out his golden scepter to them. Finally, Esther was convinced to go before the king, but she told Mordechai to first: “Go, assemble all the Jews who live in Shushan, and fast in my behalf; do not eat or drink for three days, night or day” (Esther 4:16).
Just as Haman planned to kill all of the Jews of Shushan, Esther wanted all of the Jews in Shushan, rich and poor, to join with her in solidarity before she risked her own life, and the chance to save all of her people by appearing before the king. She recognized that the Jews were stronger when they all banded together. And ultimately, she was successful. Not only did the king extend his golden scepter when Esther appeared before him, but the Jews of Persia were given the right to assemble and fight for their lives.
Queen Esther inherently knew what our Torah portion Ki Tisa teaches us. Each of us as Jews matter equally, regardless of our wealth. And together, each Jew is part of something much larger than our individual self. We’re part of a community (and I would argue that this also applies to spouses and partners of Jews who may not themselves be Jewish, but who have chosen to include their lot with ours) and each of us, like Queen Esther, must do our part to help the Jewish community not just survive, but to thrive.
Rabbi Robyn Frisch is the director of the 18Doors Rukin Rabbinic Fellowship and the spiritual leader of Temple Menorah Keneseth Chai in Northeast Philadelphia. The Board of Rabbis is proud to provide diverse perspectives on Torah commentary for the Jewish Exponent. The opinions expressed in this column are the author’s own and do not reflect the view of the Board of Rabbis.
Sherri and Michael Leon. Photo by Rebecca and Alexis Leon
“It was bashert!” said Sherri Leon, co-proprietor of Noshes by Sherri, describing the journey to find her husband Michael.
While a student at pharmacy school, Leon placed a personal ad in the Jewish Exponent.
“My roommate and I just did it for the heck of it — we literally said, ‘2 SJFs seeking 2 SJMs.’ We got, like, 50 replies through the P.O. box — remember this was 30-some years ago — we went on a ton of dates. Michael’s letter stood out because he was a pharmacist, and he loved skiing and tennis, just like me, but it took months to meet just because of scheduling conflicts.”
Sometime in those two months, Leon went to her travel agent’s house to pick up airline tickets and destiny loomed.
“She was a yenta so, of course, she asked me who I was dating. I told her about the personal ad thing and that there was one guy who I hadn’t met yet but seemed really promising,” she said. “She asked his name, I said, ‘Michael Leon’ and she shrieked. She ran out of the room, popped a video into her VCR and showed me Michael. He was the best man at her nephew’s wedding.”
Leon liked what she saw, so she called her future husband, then later went on a date to Bennigan’s.
“It was an instant connection. We talked nonstop, ended up closing the place down; they asked us to leave,” she said. “We kept talking in the parking lot, and we are still talking!”
Michael Leon proposed sometime later.
“We were going skiing up to Killington. He insisted on stopping at a hardware store on the way. I was, like, why? We finally got there. It was a foggy, gray day, and Michael raced off the lift and whizzed down the hill. I was yelling, ‘Where are you?’ He yelled to come down, and when I got there he had written in blue contractor’s tape, ‘Sherri, will you marry me?’
That’s why he stopped at the hardware store. It was beautiful from day one.”
Thirty years, three kids and two successful pharmacy careers later, the two launched a food business. Michael Leon is retired now, but Sherri Leon still works full time behind the pharmacy counter. The kids help with the business — although they are all professionals in their own right.
The business grew out of a social media quest. A woman was searching for Jewish apple cake for her brother’s birthday. She was referred to Sherri Leon, whose apple cake was legendary. She made the cake, was informed that the birthday boy, a renowned foodie and apple cake aficionado, deemed it the best he’d ever had, and pretty soon a business was born.
Their motto is “Love at first bite.”
“The first time we served up a knish to a customer, he took a bite and said, ‘This is love!’ so it kind of stuck,” Michael Leon said. “Everyone wants more, they’re addictive. Our knishes are lighter and smaller than the typical ones you might see in a deli, which, to me, can sometimes be like lead.”
Many of the recipes are passed down from the family. Michael’s mother, “Bubbe,” was known for the best matzah balls, sponge cake and all sorts of traditional Jewish fare. His grandmother lived in Israel, and he fondly recalls enjoying her poppy seed cookies on the family’s annual visits. The cookies are now on the menu, along with a variety of other sweet and savory items that vary with the season and holidays.
The couple uses local produce whenever possible and even picks their own at nearby orchards and farms during harvest time.
Noshes by Sherri is a regular fixture at many local farmers markets and recently joined the Sisterly Love Food Fair, a consortium of women-owned food businesses that banded together to sell their wares collectively around the region. The baked goods also are available to order via their website noshesbysherri.com.
The following recipe is Bubbe’s kugel and is still kept on a 3-by-5 card in the metal file card box with the other recipe cards from their mothers and grandmothers. This one was typed by Bubbe herself on her manual typewriter.
Kugel served. Photo by Rebecca and Alexis Leon
Bubbe’s Noodle Kugel Serves 8-10
6 eggs
1 pound thin egg noodles
8 ounces Philadelphia cream cheese
16 ounces Breakstone cottage cheese
16 ounces Breakstone sour cream
1½ cups of sugar
¼ cup cinnamon/sugar mix
Cook the noodles and drain them.
Combine the eggs, sugar, sour cream, cottage cheese and cream cheese in a mixer.
Add that into the noodles and top it with the cinnamon sugar mix.
