Essays and viewpoints

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for openers

So Close, But …

When we converse, we sometimes struggle to find the right word or phrase. This may lead to a misspoken word/phrase because of similarities in sound or a confusion in our minds. We are so close, but … There is a vast difference between a wise man (someone whose knowledge we respect) and a wise guy (someone who “acts up”).

If you are a golfer, you can attempt a chip shot, but when you verbally attack a fellow player, that is a cheap shot.

If you like remote spots and delight in heights, you may want to consider being a lighthouse keeper. If you only dust when absolutely necessary, you are a light housekeeper. (What a difference a break makes!)

Overdo being a yes man and you may be described as a bootlicker. Those who smuggled whiskey during Prohibition were bootleggers.

If you enjoy eating in the outdoors, that is dining al fresco. What you may be served is a pasta dish … alfredo. Another favorite food is spaghetti carbonara; however, a metal loop used for connections is a carabiner.

Talking medical problems? You may have trouble with kidneys. Talking about children’s boo-boos? Those are kids’ knees.

Geographically, the area is Indochina. Your “good dishes” are indoor china. Many a child wishes to be a superhero. In a restaurant, you may be given a choice: soup or hero? In the olden days, cleaning was often done with a rush broom. Fungi are mushrooms. (Note: How do Sy Manello you tell the difference between

Editorial Assistant mushrooms and poisonous toadstools? Eat one. If you awake the next day, it was a mushroom.) A youngster who eats all the Fruit Loops before his siblings get any is a cereal killer. The creepy guy who goes on a killing spree is a serial killer. Nowhere near the same! Now that you know what to listen for, I am sure you will be more careful with your choice of swords … er … words.

essay Responding to the Moment

In the first week of June 2020, I was sitting in my basement on a Zoom call with a group of colleagues discussing what our communal response to the murder of George Floyd might look like. Organized by Sarah Allyn (then executive director of Repair the World Detroit), most people “in the room” were representing organizations and congregations that historically had been more active in the work of building racial justice. This was, in many ways, new territory for the Jewish Federation of Metropolitan Detroit where I serve as the director of leadership development.

Looking around the Jewish world, I saw myself in good company. It felt like a new day of engagement and advocacy as just about every organization, regardless of its mission or history, was launching some sort of statement, campaign or program to support Black community, Jews of color and BIPOC folks (Black, Indigenous and People of Color) more broadly.

In the early days of last sum-

mer, it seemed as though a sort of kairos (critical) moment had emerged at the intersection of the killings of Floyd, Breonna Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery; the early months of the COVID pandemic and a growing incitement of political polarization sweeping the nation. As someone who has long worked to center the conversation about jusRabbi Ari tice in mainstream Jewish

Witkin institutions, this moment felt exciting. However, in the excitement there was a great question about just what we, as individuals and organizations, ought to do.

THE NAIVETY OF BEST INTENTIONS

For those of us on that call, white Jewish professionals who in our own lives had begun a journey of anti-racist learning, there was a sense of eagerness and urgency about the opportunity to bring our broader community and institutions into the conversation. And so, we ambitiously put a plan in place. With a focus on centering the voices of Jews of color, we would invite the broader Metro Detroit Jewish community to an opportunity to learn more about what was happening in the world around us. What we had overlooked in our hurry to capture the moment was how far behind we and our community were and are in the work, and how many assumptions we had made in the brainstorming of this program.

Over the course of the next few days, we reached out to individuals we had relationships with to garner feedback on our plan and solicit participation from Jews of color locally and nationally. The response we received could not have been clearer: Don’t ask us; start with yourselves.

The feedback admittedly was hard to swallow, but so important. I am particularly grateful to my friend and colleague, Rebecca SteinmanDeGroot, for her generosity of spirit and intellect in helping us understand our location in that moment. Though our immediate programmatic plans had taken a back seat, the conversations that had begun opened the door to what became a year of listening and learning, which led to the creation of a new unique and important initiative.

STARTING WITH OURSELVES

In the weeks that followed, Sarah and I met with various individuals and stakeholders in Detroit and around the country. Though much was unclear at that time, what was obvious was that meaningful engagement was not about the moment, but about the work we would do in the long run. Yes, everyone and their rabbi was going to post on Facebook that summer that Black Lives Matter, but would our community and our organizations make a real commitment to cultural and systemic change?

One of our early conversations was with Dr. Andrea Jacobs, a longtime leader and educator in her work to help Jewish communities become more inclusive and equitable spaces. Together, we began to think about what it would mean for organizations like the Federation and Repair the World Detroit to begin an anti-racism learning journey.

While we knew there was no one thing to do, thanks to the hard work and determination of Rachel Wasserman, a fellow at Repair the World Detroit, and with the feedback of our friends fresh in our minds, we launched Start Here: A Jewish Anti-racism Learning Cohort.

Led by Dr. Jacobs, with support from the Max M. & Marjorie S. Fisher Foundation, the Jewish Fund Teen Board, the Jamie and Denise Jacob Family Foundation and the Jewish Federation of Metropolitan Detroit, this program brought together 17 mid-career white Jewish professionals and lay leaders, representing 13 area organizations, for a seven-month learning intensive.

WHAT WE LEARNED

The first question we inevitably got every time we spoke about this idea was “why just white people?” What we know is that while there is important work for white and BIPOC folks to do together, separate affinity space gives room to build understanding of the history of racialization in the U.S. while increasing participants’ capacity or critical analysis and self-awareness around the issues of race. Additionally, and importantly, as a response to that initial feedback, that we must start with ourselves and take responsibility for our own learning, rather than placing that burden on BIPOC folks.

The content of our learning provided a curricular arch that began with the genesis of racialization and the racial disparity upon which America was constructed. We studied settler-colonialism, anti-black racism, the toll racism has taken on white people, the intersections of racism and antisemitism and what it means for Jews to be white.

Most importantly, throughout the entire program, Dr. Jacobs moved us toward understanding the ways in which we can bring our learning home as we work to make anti-racism an inherent part of Jewish community infrastructure.

WHAT COMES NEXT

The truth is, I’m not sure we totally know what comes next, nor do I believe this work is linear. What I hope is that the learning we have done these past months, and the relationships we have built, provide a framework and a foundation to each of us in the moments when we continue to encounter the legacy of racism and white supremacy acting in the Jewish community.

I’m proud that our Federation, through the Hermelin Davidson Center, created a fund to promote racial justice programs in the community, including modest funding for a staff person at Detroit Jews for Justice focused on building community amongst local Jews of color. I am grateful for the support and leadership, particularly of the many women of color, who have long been doing this work in the Jewish community, and consistently and benevolently give their time and energy, all too often without compensation.

It has been nearly 18 months since George Floyd was murdered. Our communal Twitter feed and d’vrei Torah, briefly ablaze with calls for racial justice, have by and large returned to business as usual. This cycle is not new, but what can be is a far more impactful and quieter commitment in the stalwart structures and organizations of Jewish life.

While we don’t know what’s next, in Detroit we have chosen to Start Here, with a serious look at ourselves, knowing there is still a long way to go as we continue to work to show up for racial justice.

Rabbi Ari Witkin is director of leadership development at the Jewish Federation of Metropolitan Detroit.

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essay

The Most Chanukah Time of the Year … Making Peace with Christmas

My first recollection of feeling uncomfortable about Christmas occurred in music class in the fourth or fifth grade. We were singing “songs of the season,” and I started to think about what I was actually singing: “Joy to the world, the Lord is come!” It’s a beautiful melody about the birth of Jesus. Another song ends with the phrase: “Oh come let us adore him, Chri-ist, the Lord.”

I’m sure we had sung the same songs previous Decembers, but it somehow felt different this time. So, I decided I just wasn’t going to sing those words. I didn’t discuss it with my teacher or parents or classmates. I just made sure that I substituted (in a soft voice) “You know who, NOT the Lord!” There … that showed ’em where I stood!

I recall my mom taking my siblings and me downtown to Hudson’s for a visit with Santa, but I’m not sure how she explained it to us or whether it felt weird. I think my mom had a strong wish to break away from the “Dexter Davidson shtetl” of her extended family and push our little family toward assimilation with mainstream American culture. I still went to Hebrew school and learned all the Chanukah songs and always knew that we didn’t celebrate Christmas. But why we went to see Santa, I’m just not sure. I quickly learned that while Santa Claus was coming to town, he wouldn’t be coming down our chimney.

We always sang our Chanukah songs after lighting candles. I recall we also watched endless Christmas specials with Perry Como or Dean Martin (or maybe even Jack Benny), but I don’t recall a lot of discusDr. Jeff London sion about us not celebrating Christmas. Our neighborhood was fairly diverse in terms of religion, and I don’t recall feeling left out at the holiday season. We had Chanukah; they

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had Christmas. I don’t think I realized, at that time, how miniscule the Jewish population was compared to Christianity in the bigger world.

By the time I reached college age, I was more aware of the unbelievable power of Christmas. My wife (then girlfriend) was placed in a dorm room with two girls from the west side of the state. Her roommates were intrigued and curious to meet an actual Jewish person, and the cultural exchange led to some good discussions. Another roommate invited her to midnight mass one Christmas, and I was included. The mass was spiritual and beautiful, but we knew it was “their thing.” It felt like a field trip, definitely an “away game.”

JEWISH IDENTITY DURING THE HOLIDAYS

After we got married, we moved to Cincinnati for my residency training. We moved into a decidedly non-Jewish community. We had our first child and began to develop our holiday family traditions. I recall huge Christmas trees in the homes of our neighbors. We were invited over for cookies and to help deck their halls. Feeling a bit like strangers in a strange land, we had more of a need to emphasize our Jewishness, and we invited them to taste latkes and to light Chanukah candles. But I began to feel a greater sense of how our Jewishness was perceived as otherness (by us as well as by them). Many of our neighbors were really shocked to learn that we didn’t celebrate Christmas. My wife and I had always enjoyed singing and we knew a lot of Christmas carols, and we didn’t feel at all hesitant about singing them with our neighbors. We may even have gone caroling door to door. I’m not sure if I sang about “Christ the Lord,” but I certainly didn’t mind singing about Santa and Rudolph!

When we returned to Michigan, we soon had our three children, which seemed to further intensify the importance of expressing our Jewish identity at the holiday season. We lived in a Jewish neighborhood but had an even greater awareness of the power of Christmas to the greater world. We updated holiday traditions, including family Chanukah parties and enjoyed singing songs from “Dreidel Dreidel” to “Ma Otzur.” A nightly favorites was “In the Window,” which talked about the glow of the menorah shining out, which I now see may have been our version of the Christmas lights shining in front of the homes of our non-Jewish neighbors.

I recall taking our kids to see the Christmas lights displays in other neighborhoods. Again, it felt like a field trip to a winter wonderland. I don’t recall a lot of “Christmas envy” from our kids.

We also became aware of the wonderful sense of giving and generosity that accompanies the commercial blitz of the holiday season. This is the time of year when many folks make big contributions to the Salvation Army and Yad Ezra and participate in clothing drives and soup kitchens. It really seems to bring out the best in people.

HOLIDAY MUSIC

For many years, we have enjoyed the Pop Series at the Detroit Symphony, which includes a Christmas concert, whoops, I mean a “Home for the Holidays” concert. We love listening to the beautiful music, secular and religious, including gorgeous harmonies from the high school choirs. They would always toss in a cute version of a happy song in a minor key “for our Jewish friends,” but we all knew that Christmas was really what it was all about. And we really enjoyed it! Even though our muted clothes were lost in a sea of red and green, we joyfully sang along.

The explosion of various types of media and the increasing commercialization of Christmas has seemed to further encourage my uncertain feelings at the holiday season. I think this coincides with a growing sense of concern about the separation of church and state. The seeming harmlessness of singing Christmas carols gradually seems to feel a part of a slippery slope toward a more overtly Christian nation. But we still love to sing those beautiful songs along with our Chanukah medleys.

In fact, my wife and I have a tradition of singing songs of the season in the car with two of our dearest Jewish friends. We remember all the harmonies to “The First Noel” and the car provides nice acoustics, as well as a warm respite from the outside world.

But, there still is that lingering question that we all have to answer. How much do we assimilate with the prevailing American (Christmas) culture and how much do we choose to maintain and be true to our Jewish culture?

Is Christmas joy really a threat to anyone? Is it OK to take your kids to see Santa and Christmas lights? And is it appropriate for us to sing beautiful songs that celebrate … well “you know who, not the lord”?

My song parody expresses another way to think about the same questions. (Sung to the tune of “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year”)

It’s the most Chanukah time of the year

With the latkes we’re frying and presents we’re buying

And loved ones are near

It’s the most Chanukah time of the year (but) it’s the least secular season of all.

With your neighbors’ lights glowing and folks mistle-toeing

“you know who’s” at the mall.

It’s the least secular season of all.

With the carols they’re singing and Christmas bells ringing

A Jew can feel kind of ignored

What’s a mere game of dreidel compared to a cradle

Containing “the son of the lord?”

But it’s a most wonderful time of the year

Neighbors helping each other, like brother to brother

And full of good cheer

Yes, it’s a most wonderful time

Christmas joy isn’t a crime

It’s a most wonderful time of the year.

Happy Chanukah to all and to all eight good nights.

Dr. Jeff London is a retired child psychiatrist from Farmington Hills. DECEMBER 2 • 2021 | 7

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Thousands gather to pray at the ancient Cave of the Patriarchs.

essay

Spending Shabbat in Kiryat Arbah: Coming Home

Recently, my husband, Arye, and I traveled to the holy city of Kiryat Arbah for the Shabbat of Parshat Chayei Sarah, the Torah parshah that describes the sale of the Cave of the Patriarchs — Maarat Hamachpela — to Avraham Avinu. We had the privilege of spending Shabbat with my cousins who have lived in Kiryat Arbah for more than 10 years.

After reading all the rules and requirements and understanding that the number of expected guests could reach 30,000, we decided to arrive early in the day to avoid traffic and to be sure to get a parking space.

As Shabbat started, we began walking down (or is it always “up” to a holy site?) to the Maarah in Hebron. My husband, my cousin and I were slowly joined by thousands of Jews, including Chasidic families, students in their post-high school gap year, and local Jewish children who were showing us the way. We saw tents, RVs and cars set up for sleeping, and even some people walking around holding mattresses for later.

We arrived at the courtyard of the Maarah in time for Kabbalat Shabbat and were among the first 1,800 people who could have fit into the ancient building but decided against it and found a minyan of French yeshivah students outside. As more and more people drew closer to the Maarah, the crowd reached full capacity, and those who arrived later were left to daven on the stairs or even farther away.

The sounds of the different minyanim, in their different dialects and traditions (Ashekenazi, Sephardi, Chabad, etc.), filled my heart with spirituality. These were all different people, whose history brought them all to Israel, davening at the same time, next to one another. All different, yet all the children of Avraham and Sarah.

Arye said it best when he mentioned that this Shabbat was like a family reunion. No matter where the children end up, no matter where their lives have taken them, no matter how observant they are as Jews, they can always come home to see their “grandparents” and be with their family.

Walking back to my cousins’ house for a delicious dinner, we smiled at and said Shabbat Shalom to every brave soldier along the way, and they each responded in turn. After a delicious Shabbat dinner, Arye and I went back down the hill to experience more. This time, we were able to get inside the Maarah and visit the elusive Ulam Yitzchak, Yitzchak and Rivka’s burial place, which is only open fewer than 10 times per year because of political reasons.

At the entrance to the room, there was a short line of women waiting their turn, and I asked one of the women what they were waiting for. She told me it is the entrance to Gan Eden (Garden of Eden), where our souls will go when we die, and that the women were leaning down to breathe in the sweet and holy

Aviva Zacks

BORDER PATROL OF MAARAT HAMACHPELA (TAKEN BY A NON-JEW ON SHABBAT)

NOAM ARNON

A family gets ready for a Shabbat camping adventure.

BORDER PATROL OF MAARAT HAMACHPELA

One of many tent cities set up by guests.

aroma. I wasn’t sure that was something I wanted to do, so I passed on the opportunity for the moment.

We left the Maarah after we had both prayed for our family and for Am Yisrael (people of Israel) and started wandering around Hebron. We saw entire sections of the city filled with tents and tables, and we found the apartment of a family who invited everyone in for a Friday night oneg (festive Shabbat gathering). We also saw Jews from all over Israel deep in conversation with soldiers and police officers about politics and religion. We simply absorbed the atmosphere. The next morning, we once again headed to Hebron for prayer and joined a minyan of men from our own shul in Modiin. The Torah was read by a teenager from our shul who has been reading this parshah in Hebron since his bar mitzvah. The entire reason to be there, these words in this place, was even more special than I expected it to be.

Living in Israel for the past 15 years, it has become commonplace for us to be in a place described in the Tanach. We even live in Modiin, home of the Maccabees. But reading the Parshah about the purchase of the exact place where we were standing was exceptional and memorable.

Later that day, we went back to the Maarah, and I did breathe in the beautiful and indescribable scent and spirit of Gan Eden.

STORY Our STORY Our

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‘Miracles Exist’ – A Letter to Danny Fenster on his Return Home

Dear Danny,

I’m beyond delighted that you are not seeing a tally of days you’ve been in prison (and I’m smiling as I write this) because we no longer have to count them. I think it’s safe to say we’re all smiling now.

We are celebrating Chanukah (the Festival of Lights). I think it’s auspicious that you were freed in the Hebrew month of Kislev; the month when we celebrate Chanukah.

Kislev is known as the month of miracles.

The energy of Kislev is known as the power of harmony; the harmony that emerges after chaos.

Sound familiar?

Even more telling is that you were freed on the 11th of Kislev. Spiritually, the number 11 has many meanings. For those familiar with angel numbers, 11 represents balance, vision and fulfillment (there are several other meanings, but they all relate to a message from heaven).

In Gematria (the Kabbalistic method of assigning a numerical value to single or groups of Hebrew letters) the Hebrew letter ‘Kaf’ is the 11th letter of the Hebrew alphabet. It is the first letter in the word, kavanah, (which means intention, sincere feeling and direction of the heart).

I can’t even begin to describe how much all of this relates directly to what we all have been doing for the past six months each time we set our clocks (and our pure intention) and gathered to pray in whichever way is meaningful to us as individuals. With one common, sacred, mission in mind (and pure love in our hearts), we gave our faith and trust in G-d, the Universe and pure energy, the power to travel across oceans and bring you home where you belong.

A few weeks ago, I wrote on the Bring Danny Home Facebook page that I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe that everything happens for a reason even when it makes no sense to us. While your past six months were nothing short of a living nightmare (for you and your family — and for all of us who love all of you), we never lost hope or our belief that this beautiful community of people of all faiths would make a difference.

We called, emailed, texted and posted on every social media platform. We remained steadfast and relentless in order to make sure those in a position of power paid attention and took action. Your captors were unrelenting, but their cause was no match for an army of kind people with pure hearts and pure intention who always believed that light would win over darkness.

Kislev is a month of miracles and, as we kindle the flames of our chanukiyot and celebrate holidays of our respective faiths, we will think about what it means to illuminate every corner of our world with light, peace, grace and love.

Danny, Juliana, Bryan, Cara, Rose, Buddy and your amazing, beautiful family: We all are collectively exhaling and embracing you as we finally and happily ditch the ‘BringDannyHome’ hashtag and, instead, embrace the words: “Welcome Home Danny! We love you!”

— Dina Kawer Huntington Woods

Miraculous Chanukah

Both USA and Israel received their Chanukah gifts a little early this year, with the miraculous release of Danny Fenster and the Israeli couple released from jail in Turkey after being accused of spying.

The USA and Israel

Two countries that are free,

Are sure to bring their sons from hell

Wherever that will be.

— Rachel Kapen West Bloomfield

Judge Cohn

Danny Schwartz (Nov. 18, page 21) describes the biography of Judge Avern Cohn as including “a wide selection of Cohn’s own writing on legal and especially historical subjects.” I immediately thought about his prodigious output of letters to publications far and wide on topics considerably more varied than law and history. Judge Cohn is a true polymath who apparently writes whenever he has something to say. He might agree with me that writing letters is more productive than throwing things at the television.

I once asked him how often his letters were accepted for publication. He seemed surprised at the question, thought a moment and then said, “Oh, about 40%.” It’s an honor to say that on one occasion he and I shared the Letters page of the same issue of the Detroit Jewish News, his letter about Jonathan Pollard, mine on the midterm Congressional races.

— Roger H. Leemis Southfield

Corrections: The story “Open-Mic Night” (Nov. 18, page 26) had an incorrect author byline. The story was written by Avery Geller, a junior from West Bloomfield at MSU.

In “A Link to Past Generations” (Nov. 18, page 48), Jay Saper’s aunt should have been identified as Jeri Saper.