NU, December 2013 by New Jersey Jewish News

FRESH IDEAS FROM GARDEN STATE TEENS

inside OUR YIDDISH, OUR SELVES ISRAELâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S DILEMMA COLLEGE HAIKUS

Nu is made possible in part by a grant from The Herb Iris Youth and Family Philanthropy Endowment of the Jewish Community Foundation of MetroWest December 12, 2013

DECEMBER 12, 2013

ANDREW SILOW-CARROLL Editor-in-Chief

JOANNE BLOOMSTEIN Special Projects Editor

DAYNA NADEL Graphic Designer

RICK KESTENBAUM COO/General Manager

ABBY METH KANTER Managing Editor

PATRICIA R. ROGERS Publication Operations Director

TEEN BOARD Kineret Brokman, 17, attends Golda Och Academy. Her passion for writing began with poetry and now wants to expand to other forms of writing. She is very excited to be a part of Nu and connecting writing to Judaism. Besides writing, Kineret likes to sing/dance/ act, run cross country, and bake. She loves eating pretzels with nutella, and hates horror movies.

Eliana Glatt, 19, attends Princeton University. She enjoys jotting down poems whenever she can. She likes watching TV shows about hospital drama and mysteries such as House and Bones. She also likes to cook, listen to music, chew gum constantly, speak in weird accents, and text her friends. Abby Ingber, 15, attends Watchung Hills Regional High School. She is the youngest of three sisters and wants to follow in her sister Stephanie’s footsteps by writing for Nu. She enjoys soccer, the outdoors, and her friends.

Desi Brower, 14, attends Livingston High School. She loves soccer, basketball, school, and spending time with her friends.

Elana Marlowe, 17, attends Golda Och Academy. She enjoys playing tennis and basketball, cooking, traveling, reading and writing. She also loves to volunteer at Friendship Circle.

Mack Brower, 16, attends Livingston High School. He loves to play basketball, and his favorite team is the New Jersey Nets. He enjoys cooking, playing the baritone saxophone, and hanging out with friends. Rachel DeChiara, 18, attends Newark Academy. She enjoys writing on the sofa in her living room, where the sun doesn’t cause too much of a glare on her laptop. When not publishing novels, she enjoys singing with her school chorus, attending NFTY-GER events, and munching on her favorite snack: Mallomars. Amanda Glatt, 16, attends Livingston High School. She has had a passion for writing from a very young age. She loves reading and has a special affinity for espionage thrillers. She enjoys hanging out at the mall, catching a movie with friends, and shows such as Glee and House.

Shannon Stocks, 18, attends Boston University. Ever since she could form sentences on a sheet of paper, she has written short stories and, even before that, she dictated stories to her mom at the kitchen table. But it was not until she grew older and needed a way to express herself more clearly that she discovered the therapeutic act of writing poetry. She was able to polish this passion through creative writing courses. She enjoys staying active within her Jewish youth group, USY, baking with friends, learning sign language, and playing with her dog. Cover illustration by Alexa Smith Cover and interior design by Dayna Nadel, Graphic Designer

INSIDE 3 4 4 5 6 7 8

A bitter pill to swallow Special connection Torah Torah Torah Breaking news Our Yiddish, our selves In the name of fairness Hooked on blue

9 10 11 11 12 12 13

Blurred front lines A guiding light Community service Photography Please wait… All about love World peace?

13 Unloved decor; Candle; Mindless thoughts 14 Black 14 Weather the storm 15 To believe or not to believe 15 Sophomoric haiku blues

If you would like to contribute to or be a part of Nu, contact Joanne Bloomstein

jbloomstein@njjewishnews.com 2 nu december 2013

AN INCREDIBLE

TEAM

‘I’ve got a great idea.’ WHEN YOU HEAR that reassuring statement from Milly Iris, you know something wonderful is on its way. A peerless planner and first-class visionary, Milly Iris was, and is, a creative force behind the abundant generosity of her husband, Herb Iris. Together, the two role models not only made a difference, but inspired those around them just by example. Milly Iris continues to honor Herb Iris’ memory by continuing the important work that he was passionate about. Herb Iris was a builder — and by that we don’t mean just his day job as a real estate developer. Mr. Iris was a builder of Jewish community, whether as a legendary fund-raiser for United Jewish Communities of MetroWest NJ; as a devoted supporter of his family’s congregation, Temple Sharey Tefilo-Israel; or a tireless worker behind his family’s many philanthropic endeavors. Those who know Milly Iris always come away feeling amazed by her rare blend of big-picture vision and magnifying-glass attention to detail. Simply put, Milly knows how to get things done. Milly and Herb Iris, in short, were an incredible team. They knew that to build Jewish community, you had to begin with its youngest members, giving them the solid foundation from which Jewish commitment and responsibility will grow. The Iris family’s legacy lives on in The Herb Iris Youth and Family Philanthropy Endowment of the Jewish Community Foundation of MetroWest. The fund’s mission is to focus on programs, like the Iris Teen Tzedakah Program, that invite young people as partners in building Jewish community. Nu is a recipient of the endowment’s generosity, but more importantly the magazine is a beneficiary of Milly and Herb Iris’ dream for the future. It is a fitting legacy that the Iris Endowment supports passionate Jewish teen writers, who dedicate their time and considerable talent to sharing their thoughts and ideas for their generation and our community. Instead of retiring from the scene, Milly Iris knew her husband would want her to keep going, keep doing good, keep giving, keep making a difference. Little wonder that Milly Iris and her family continue to memorialize Herb Iris by investing in the future of young people so that they learn the responsibility, and the art, of giving back. For Milly and Herb Iris, giving back will always be a way of life. nu

A bitter pill to swall w Siona Ely

by Michael

Photo sit down in the diner, my heart pounding in my chest. “Guys, we have something to tell you.” My mom hesitates. “It’s about Judah.” “Judah has… leukemia.” My dad spits out. “Do you remember when we all came up to see you at camp Visiting Day? Judah was there to visit Cousin Noah, and your Uncle Josh had to carry him around everywhere because he could barely walk…” The incessant pounding of my heart drowns my dad’s voice out. A voice inside me yells ‘How did Judah get this? Why did Judah get this? He’s only five!’All around our table, waitresses, customers, and cooks are bustling around as if nothing happened. ‘How dare they!’ I think to myself. ‘It’s as if they don’t know that my world is crashing down around me.’ Two months later, my family and I are all in the car on the way to the hospital. The Children’s National Medical Center, to be exact. The same hospital where my uncle works and Judah is being treated, after a high fever a few days ago. As we’re driving there, I envision different scenarios in my head. What if he’s hooked up to a million tubes and you can barely see him? What if everyone just sits in silence and cries? What should I say? What should I do? What can I do? As we drive into the parking lot and get out of the car, my heart is slowly picking up speed. I follow my parents out of the car. We get onto the elevator and are spit out into the lobby. “We’re here to visit Judah Kanter.” My mom says.

Grant

‘A five year old.’ I think to myself. “Room 414.” The attendant smiles, and gives my parents’ tags to stick onto their clothes. We cross the lobby and get onto the elevator. My dad presses the button for 4 and we stand in silence. When the doors open, we step out into a white hall. We stop at the information desk, and a nurse points us in the right direction. Standing next to her is a woman holding a baby hooked up to an IV pole. My heartbeat gets louder. ‘That isn’t going to be Judah,’ I whisper

to myself. ‘That isn’t going to be Judah.’ We approach Room 414. As we near the doorway, I can barely hear myself think. My footsteps get louder and louder with each step. The window is tinted, so we can’t see inside. We pump Purell on our hands and rub it in. I open the door and peer inside. My grandparents and aunt are sitting on the couch. They stand up to hug us. “Shh, he’s sleeping.” my aunt whispers. As we pull away, I see a small thing curled up in a hospital bed. He sits up and rubs his eyes. I suppress a gasp. Judah has no hair. We sit down. A nurse comes in to check his vitals. Aunt Mara introduces the nurse to us. “Hi,” the nurse says. “Wow, there are so many of you!” “This is only half,” my aunt jokes. As the nurse gets out the thermometer, she chats with us. “Judah is my best patient,” she laughs. “He never yells or cries, not like some of the other kids.” She hands Judah the thermometer, which he inserts into his mouth. It beeps, and reads 102˚F. Still too high, so Aunt Mara gives him some Tylenol to bring his fever down. For the first half hour, Judah seems to be in a trance. He keeps his eyes fixed on the TV, and answers questions with a nod or shake of his head. Eventually, he begins to perk up. “Siona?” Judah begins. “Yes Judah?” I wait. “That’s a cool bracelet.” He points to my starburst Rainbow Loom bracelet. “Thank you!” I say. “Can I have it?” he asks. I am taken aback. “Of course!” I give the bracelet to him, but not before Purelling it thoroughly. He slips it on. As our conversation plays

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back in my head, a sense of relief washes over me. ‘Judah is the same,’ I think. ‘He hasn’t changed. What I see on the outside doesn’t affect what he’s like on the inside.’ When he asks for my phone to play on, I give it to him, but only after wiping down the screen and case. As we look for and finally locate the wipes, I think of Judah watching us make such a big fuss over him touching something. I sit down on the bed and listen to Judah talk. Hearing him talk with such matter-of-factness about his cancer makes me think. ‘I shouldn’t start crying just because I

‘I shouldn’t start crying just because I get a scratch, or because I don’t get a 100 on a test. There’s more to life than that.’ get a scratch, or because I don’t get a 100 on a test. There’s more to life than that.’ As our visit winds down to an end, I find myself wanting to stay. When we exit the room, I hear Judah say, “When can I go home?” My heart aches. On the hour-long drive back to our cousin’s house, I think. As we pull up into the driveway, I feel content. This visit has answered my questions and relieved some of my fears, if not all of them. I know now that my family will hold out, and eventually, come together as one. nu Siona Ely, 12, attends Mount Hebron Middle School.

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THE JEWISH SPECTRUM

SPECIAL

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CONNECTI N

Jacob Nelson

ince September, an Israeli high school graduate has been living with me in my home. His name is Matan Sidi and he is from Ofakim, MetroWest’s sister city. He is part of the Rishonim program with Greater MetroWest. His job is to visit the many schools or shuls in the area and to talk to them about Israel: its history, culture, politics, and other Israeli affairs. This is very crucial to the community, as many people are not aware of what life is like in Israel. His lessons establish a connection that creates a bond between the young people in our community and Israel. So far, it has been an amazing experience for me and for Matan. For me, it is interesting to hear from an Israeli, what he thinks about all sorts of different topics from politics to new technologies. For Matan, “it was difficult adjusting at first, but after awhile I found my place and got used to it. I like having the connection between here and Israel and it is very

Jessica Sidhu

important to share with others this connection.” Matan makes all of the information interesting by adapting his message to different age groups. For example, when talking to middle school aged kids, he created a poster board in the ‘Facebook’ layout. This got the kids engaged in the lesson, as they could ‘like’ different aspects of Israel that Matan discussed. On a personal note, it is nice having a new member in the family. We play Ping-Pong, and talk on the way to shul, amongst other things. It is also helpful having Matan to help with my Hebrew assignments. To Matan it is also a great opportunity to learn about America. On his first weekend here, we took him to see some sights in NYC. He was so excited to see Times Square, the view from the top of the Rock, and other places. He is always telling me how it is so great and interesting to live a nu different culture than his own. Jacob Nelson, 15, attends Rae Kushner Yeshiva High School.

THE MOST ESSENTIAL piece of writing is the Torah. Torah in itself is a unique word with a plethora of meanings. For some, Torah signifies the five books of Moses, Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. Others may use this word to refer to the entire Jewish bible, the Old Testament. In its broadest sense, the word could be viewed as an indication of the entirety of Jewish law and its teachings. Knowledge of the word of Torah is a necessity for all. Legend states that the torah was written by G-d and given as a present and guidebook to Israel only fifty days after the Jewish People’s freedom from Egypt on Mount Sinai in the year 3,323. The Torah is the foundation of the Jewish community. In total, there are 613 commandments displaying the guidelines, which an ideal person of the community should act upon. Commandments such as “love thy neighbor as thyself”, “honor your father and mother”, and “you shall not steal” teach the moral importance of kindness. The principle morals of compassion, hospitality, charity, world preservation, respect, and many more shape the basic beliefs of each individual Jew to be the best possible person. Morals are demonstrated in the Torah through stories. I recall my childhood admiration for the valiancy of Moses, disdain for the mistreatment of slaves, and wonder of the many kindnesses paid to strangers within these stories. These tales are passed on, containing years of history and consistently delivering the same crucial life lessons. Mistakes can be avoided and beneficial actions inspired due to these tales of Torah. When I, or any other member of the Jewish religion seeks answers, help, guidance, or even strength, the Torah always acts as a primary supplier. Prayers within the Torah cover all spectrums of hardships. Prayer alleviates pain from the individual, it allows one to be hopeful, faithful, and determined in one’s striving for a possible miracle. If a person’s family member is sick and he/she is not medically trained to assist, prayer exists to guide him or her and the loved one through the time of difficulty. The beautifully worded prayers within the Torah contain reliably helpful advice for all those in need. When I became a Bat Mitzvah and joined the Jewish community as an adult, I had the honor of reading the Torah for the first time. I carefully guided the silver of my stylus across the beautiful words of Torah and, after hours upon hours of training and practice, I sang the words to my congregation with a magnitude of pride. These words of knowledge helped to honor my ancestors, though generations apart, connected through the words of Torah. The Torah is the embodiment of the past, present, and future of an ideal community member. Through knowledge of its glorious words of prayer, stories, and commandments, a person can enable their true potential through the powerful and immortal words of Torah. nu Jessica Sidhu, 16, attends West Morris Mendham High School.

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The jewish specTrum

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Breaking Kineret Brokman

his past summer, the summer before my senior year of high school, has been one that I will not forget. Even after a few weeks out of my summer program, I found myself quoting participants and faculty, hoping to observe Shabbat the way I did for those four weeks, and wishing that I could have spent even more time delving into the ethics of journalism. In fact, letting go of my experiences at Genesis has proved harder than I had anticipated. Two days after the program had ended, I still had a room full of unpacked suitcases, and I got on a bus to New York City to begin a series of reunions with my friends from New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut. We even had some kids Skype into our reunion from Boston, Florida, Turkey, and Russia. Spending a month at Brandeis University while taking part in the Genesis high school summer program opened my eyes to the huge world that we, as Jews, live in. Never before had I met a German without automatically thinking he was an aggressor, or a Canadian who speaks Russian, or a Turkish Jew who has stood in a crowd of government rebels and been tear-gassed. I didn’t even know that there were Jews in Latvia; so luckily, my roommate proved my preconceptions wrong. I spent four weeks trying to learn a few phrases in Russian in order to keep up with the vast majority of participants and learning the rules of Durak (a Russian card game), which consumed the majority of my free time. Since I go to a Jewish day school in the middle of New Jersey, diversity isn’t the first word that comes to mind when I think about my life. Genesis provided me with that outlook

because I was able to grasp different types of people around me. Their customs, their lifestyles, and their mannerisms interested me immensely, and I certainly would not have had such an opportunity elsewhere. At Genesis, though, we don’t really use the word “diversity.” We call it “pluralism.” This concept dominated my summer as one of Genesis’ biggest missions is to create a pluralistic community where everyone is accepted and comfortable sharing their views and ideas without negation. Somehow, Genesis provided a “safe space” for me to be accepted as I am, with all of my beliefs while still feeling that I could coexist with those different from me. I have always associated myself with the Conservative Jewish movement, and greatly disliked those who believed that men were religiously superior to women. However, I took a risk by attending a “mechitzah minyan” where men and women sit separately and although I still do not prefer it, I do not feel the anger I once did. I then decided to lead Kabbalat Shabbat for the “tri-chitzah minyan,” and though I sat in the mixed section while I was not leading, I did not resent those who sat separately. Many of my new friends are more religious than I am and some are less religious than I am, but that does not hinder the friendships we have. It has only heightened my interest to explore the

different sects of Judaism. One of my friends affiliates herself with the Modern Orthodox sect, attending a Yeshiva high school. Curious to understand the norms of her lifestyle, I chose to step into her shoes for a day, learning about her in a completely different way, and from this, my appreciation for this “pluralism” strengthened. Academically, I have never been more intrigued and excited to go to class. While taking the journalism course, I was faced with new challenges that finally resulted in two news pieces. Until my Genesis experience, my understanding of the process of a journalist was very minimal. I did not realize how hard it is to formulate a news-worthy story, research that topic in a very detailed sense, secure interviews for original reporting, find quotes and anecdotes that fit into the story, provide a neutral outlook on the topic, and put it all together to see

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the finished product. In addition, we did not have ample amounts of time to do this, and therefore, I really got a real taste of the life of a journalist. It baffles me to think of how much I’ve learned without considering it a “class,” because every day, I looked forward to discussing the news and the importance of information, or seeing journalists in action at the Christian Science Monitor in Boston. Genesis is an experience like no other, and I cannot express how much these four weeks taught me about myself and others. I am so grateful to have met such a “pluralistic” group of people from all over the world and the Jewish spectrum. I could not have asked for an experience more “one of a kind” and I know that what I have taken from this program is extremely nu special. Kineret Brokman, 17, attends Golda Och Academy.

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Our yiddish, Our selves Call me meshuge, but using the mameloshn makes me who I am

Blake Chernin

he first time I said the word “goy” in public, I thought my mother would lose it. We were in the supermarket and I pointed out… something. Some difference between us and the “goyim,” something innocuous but true that made us “other.” But using the word “goy” was, apparently, not kosher. “Blake! You can’t say that word!” “You say it all the time, mom.” “Not actually around gentiles!” She then went on to explain to me that if any non-Jews heard me say the word, they would be offended. In its plain meaning, “goy” isn’t a slur but a statement of fact: a gentile, from the Hebrew for “nations.” But even though some Yiddish expressions use the word in a derogatory way, I suspected, as I looked around the crowded supermarket, that my mother and I were the only Jews in the immediate vicinity, and therefore the only people around who knew enough Yiddish to even know what a goy even was. I was annoyed with my mom then, though at the time, I wasn’t sure why. Something just seemed off. It felt like a little piece of me had been stolen, or perhaps vandalized, but I didn’t know which piece it was. So I had said a Yiddish word around goyim. Nu? What did they know from Yiddish? Now, though, I know why the experience had me feeling so verklempt. When my mom told me to curtail my Yiddish I felt as if they were stealing away my words — our words, the words of every Ashkenazi Jew. And with those words, I felt a bit of my identity being scraped away. Most Ashkenazi Jews living in

to the world

America don’t know much Yiddish, but you’d be hard-pressed to find one who doesn’t know some. Yiddish has been mixed into their vocabulary since their youth, mostly by their grandparents, who are often immigrants or, as in my case, the children of immigrants. “Oh, look at that cute little punim!” “Honey, sit on your tuches and wait a second!” “Bubbeleh, you look tired. Lay keppe on zadie’s shoulder, you’re meshuge for staying up as late as you do.” I don’t remember the last time the word “congratulations” slipped passed my lips; my linguistic jump upon hearing good news for a friend is always “Mazel Tov!” Whether consciously or not, Yiddish becomes part of your personal lexicography. Language has a deep connection with identity. Identity is crafted, word upon word, thought upon thought, through speech. Speech is not just for showing others your identity; it forces you to craft one. Therefore, words that are common in your speech often have powerful ties to your identity, what makes you you and what others think you are. In the case of Yiddish, this is even more pronounced: When I used Yiddish, I am not only establishing my personal identity but the identity 6 nu december 2013

of my entire culture. Perhaps my mother believed, in the supermarket, that my word choice was a shanda fur die goyim, a shame on the Jewish people for the non-Jews to see. And I can’t help but not care. Because I don’t speak Yiddish “fur die goyim.” I speak it for myself. So much of my personal identity hinges on my Jewishness. It is integral in how I connect to my family, to my culture, and to myself. But there isn’t exactly an overabundance of JCCs and Chabad houses in a town like Mendham. Speaking Yiddish is one of my only ways to keep this important part of my identity alive. These words spoke in joyful shouts in Europe, whispered fervently and hopefully on their way to Ellis Island, walked up and down the Lower East Side, and shouted and sold wares to keep a family afloat. These words passed through the generations of my mishpocha and then got to me. If I could go back to that day in the supermarket, knowing what I know now, maybe I would have acted differently. Perhaps, instead of quietly tucking away these words, I would have protested with all the power I had — with all the power they had. I might have used the words the way I use them now — as armor for my identity, as comfortable words in my vocabulary that I finally, finally am not ashamed of. And perhaps everybody in the supermarket would have thought I was a meshuganer for doing that, for speaking Yiddish, a tongue that they did not understand. But even if they never understand the language, the language helps others understand me. And that’s what makes the language so very shayner —so nu very beautiful. Blake Chernin, 16, attends West Morris Mendham High School.

College bound

InW the name of fairness hy affirmative action needs an overhaul Amanda Glatt

“Select your identified race or ethnicity.”

e’ve all seen this statement on the SAT, AP exams, college forms, even job applications. We’ve all filled in the proper bubble corresponding to Hispanic/ Latino, American Indian/Alaska Native, Asian, Black/African American, Native Hawaiian/Pacific Islander, or White. In the past, we, as teenagers, have rarely stopped and asked ourselves, “Why is this question here?” More importantly, we’ve never asked, “Should this question be here?” With new court cases and controversies emerging, Americans, and especially teenagers, are beginning to scrutinize the long-contentious policy known as affirmative action. Affirmative action refers to measures and regulations that many public and private institutions have been obligated to put into effect to prevent racial, gender, and class discrimination. Universities offer the perfect case study of the effects of affirmative action, as these institutions regularly engage in outreach campaigns and targeted recruitment to enroll students who would otherwise never have been accepted due to discrimination or socioeconomic factors. Although affirmative action applies to gender and class, most universities tailor their policies to curb racial discrimination. Hence, the ubiquitous “Select your identified race or ethnicity.” This all sounds very civilized and ethical in a country still simmering with racial bias. Why the controversy? The Supreme Court is currently considering a case involving the constitutionality of the 2006 referendum in

Wrong. Affirmative action, originally meant to lift up talented minority students previously discriminated against by admissions personnel, or who lacked the means to apply to higher educational institutions, has failed. Universities have lost sight of its true purpose— equal opportunity for equal talent — and have used it to further self-serving goals, such as portraying themselves as bastions of equality and freedom. The truth is affirmative action, with its newly narrowed focus on race, has been even further narrowed to disproportionately benefit middle to upper class Hispanic and African Americans and leaves other minorities, such as Asian and European Americans, to fend for themselves. Even Hispanics and African Americans from lower socioeconomic classes Michigan that has explicitly prohib- are often missed by affirmative action’s too-narrow assistance. After all, racial ited affirmative action in the state. In affirmative action is very different from fact, the court’s decision could have socio-economic affirmative action. far-reaching consequences as California, Washington, and Nebraska also Here are some of the actual ban the practice. It’s a no-brainer, effects of affirmative action: right? These bans are clearly unconstitutional in that they promote racial A 2005 Princeton University study discrimination and ban a successful researched the advantages that race policy, right? conferred on SAT scores (on the origi-

nal 1600 scale) for applications to three top universities. African Americans received a benefit of 230 points and Hispanics 185 points; however, Asian Americans had 50 points deducted from their scores. A follow-up 2009 study demonstrated that Asian Americans on average need a 1550 (on the old scale) to be competitive with Whites who receive a 1410 and African Americans who receive an 1100. Controlling for factors such as grades and legacy, the study concluded that African Americans, Hispanics, and Whites, are 15, six, and three times as likely, respectively, to get accepted to a university than an Asian American. We like to laud affirmative action as a civil rights victory. We focus on, to be fair, the significant amount of success stories that have ensued from its implementation. Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor has argued that she would have not have been able to attend Princeton University had it not been for affirmative action. We emphasize these stories. After all, affirmative action has an extremely noble purpose. Unfortunately, though the intent is right, the execution is awful and, frankly, unethical. Universities used to practice a quota policy until it was ruled unconstitutional in 2003. Now, universities often blindly accept many unqualified members of a minority, ignoring qualified students of other minorities or even qualified students of the same minority but of a different socio-economic class. Affirmative action should not be banned outright, because America, the so-called land of freedom and opportunity, is still filled with bigots and discrimination. No, affirmative action is the best policy America has to offer right now, and that is the real crime. Politicians should take a serious look at reforming the current affirmative action policy or else talented and brilliant individuals will continue to fall through the cracks and remain mired in poverty, all nu in the name of fairness. Amanda Glatt, 16, attends Livingston High School.

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COLLEGE BOUND

HOOKED ON

BLUE Alexa Smith

heard the thuds pounding from my heart as the announcer declared the beginning of the 5K charity run in Ann Arbor. Startled by the loud siren, I lifted my feet off of the cracked sidewalk. The numbers on my stopwatch gradually increased as I ran amongst unfamiliar faces. One man to my right with a perfectly curled mustache was sporting high socks that looked like they came out of my grandpa’s closet. His wife must have

been the stunted blonde lady behind me whose shorts were almost reaching her belly button. I gazed across a swarm of flushed sweaty faces and finally located my brother. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I increased my speed. Finally keeping up with my brother for once. Signs reading, “.5 MILE TO THE BIG HOUSE” reassured us that we were almost done with the run. Tall, bulky men wearing shirts that read “SECURITY” guided us through the very tunnel the Michigan football players use to enter the field. “Hail to the Victors” played and a smile grew upon my face as green turf

appeared through the light of the tunnel. I raised both my arms and inhaled slowly taking in every second of this miraculous moment. Here I stood, a tiny 6th grader in the middle of a stadium that holds up to 115,000 people, feeling like the most privileged person in the world. At that moment, I was officially hooked on the University of Michigan. A year later, after a long, torturous day of school, I launched up the stairs and into my brother’s room to investigate this enigma. A sparkle in my brother’s eyes reassured me that good news was to follow. He man-

aged to let out the words, “I got in!” Chills raced through my body from head to toe. He was accepted into the school of our dreams. The corners of his lips practically touched his ears. My mom, dad, and grandpa had all attended the University of Michigan and now it was my brother’s turn. In five years it would hopefully be mine. As soon as I read the terrifying number in the bottom right corner, my face sunk and everything that was clear became blurry. That’s my SAT score!? My life is over. I wiped my eyes to prevent my makeup from slithering down my face. My mom ran to the phone and called Huntington Learning Center insisting that they must have made a mistake. Back to never being able to keep up with my brother. A barrage of taunting thoughts tore at my brain. Michigan, Michigan, Michigan. At that moment, I realized that I had never tried hard in school to get into college but I had tried hard to get into Michigan and now that dream was being taken away from me. Instantly, I turned off my cellphone, flipped open my SAT workbook, and nu became a recluse. Alexa Smith, 16, attends Livingston High School.

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Israel faces the dIlemma of unconventIonal warfare Justin Fiszer

n the history of warfare, battles took place between two opposing militaries, fighting under leaders who commanded them to battle it out until one army eventually surrendered. Since biblical times, Jews have been striving to wage war in a “Jewish” way, that is, fighting a war only if it is necessary, and one that adheres to a certain ethical, Jewish standard. War, because it involves taking a life, is a serious matter in Judaism, and can only be declared if necessary, whether preemptively or in self-defense. Deuteronomy instructs that a peace offering be made to any city under siege, and Nachmanides, commenting on this commandment, said that the “enemy must be dealt with kindly.” Other restrictions that Judaism places on warfare include the ban on vandalism to the environment, or needlessly killing animals in a city. These restrictions, however, were made during a time when war was conventional, and often predictable. For the most part, war was waged between two armies, which were pitted to fight against each other to the death, or surrender. And yet the notion of conventional warfare

evolved with time. As Americans, we’re often taught that the colonists were able to beat the British because they introduced the

idea of guerrilla warfare, in which soldiers use ambushes and raids to foil the strict formations of the conventional army. The British army’s tactics was no match for the colonists’ new method, which involved rag-tag teams of soldiers who were able to blend in with the land. Like Britain, Israel is facing a huge problem with its conflict against armed Palestinian com-

batants. Modern trends are showing blurred lines between combatants and civilians, and between an actual “front” and civilian areas. Since the Palestinians do not have any official army or military, Israel is fighting a war against those who fight like soldiers, but dress as civilians, and who often fire from civilian areas. Thus, Israel is put in a deadlock position: If its army wants to defeat Palestinian insurgents, it often risks killing Palestinian civilians as well. In the eyes of the world, Israel’s use of force is called “disproportionate” or “indiscriminate.” By not wearing labeled uniforms, Palestinians are able to fight against Israel without taking on the responsibility of being soldiers. This modern warfare is preventing Israel from being able to defend itself, and holds Israel accountable for more deaths of civilians than in actuality. Nevertheless, the Israeli army has adopted a code of conduct which states that soldiers must do all they can to avoid the harming of civilians. “The aim of the IDF ethics code is to strike a coherent and morally plausible

9 nu december 2013

position that provides Israel with the effective tools to protect its citizens and win the war while also setting the proper moral limits that have to be met while legitimately securing its citizens,” writes Moshe Halbertal, who helped write the code. “ It is no surprise that Halbertal is a professor of Jewish thought and philosophy at Hebrew University. He knows that the best solution to the crisis of “asymmetrical warfare” between Israel and her neighbors is to always remember Jewish ideas of peace, and to “love they neighbor as thyself.” He also knows that while war is often necessary, it is much better that we avoid nu warfare by promoting peace. Justin Fiszer, 16, attends Randolph High School.

g n i d i u g A t h lig Mack Brower

s people piled in at my grandmother’s funeral I saw hundreds of faces that had been impacted by her great teaching. My grandmother was an elementary school teacher, and was highly respected throughout the town. She was more than a teacher; and she helped kids with more than just homework. She helped students get through life. My mom had told us a story of when my grandmother was teaching. “Your grandmother had a student that came in very early every morning since her mother had to go to work. When she found out about this child, she made a morning science club for this student. But really it was not a science club — it was for the student to have a place to stay in the morning and some company as well.” “Wow,” I replied. I was so amazed by the act of kindness she had given this student. Sitting at the funeral and hearing all the wonderful things people had to say was music to my ears along with the amazing memories I had of her. As the funeral went on I thought about many teachers that helped me so far with my education. Teachers always have extra help sessions for students like me to give them the time they need to develop. Teachers always have made great relationships with me. Knowing that makes me know that teaching is more than a skill, it takes love, compassion, time and effort. Teachers always make me smile and have changed my life forever, just like with my grandmother and her own students.

Mack Brower, 16, attends Livingston High School.

10 nu december 2013

Abby Ingber

his summer I spent a month in the Central American country of Costa Rica where I participated in a community work program through West Coast Connections, following in the steps of my older sister. During my trip I was able to travel to many different communities, all of which were experiencing deep poverty. While in Costa Rica I came to understand the significance of being a leader. As my trip progressed I learned the importance of setting an example for younger kids as I watched closely over them. In Costa Rica I was given the opportunity to participate in community service, where I visited different types of schools and settings for underprivileged kids. I was fortunate enough to have the chance to run a camp where we provided children with good experiences and enjoyment. At these camps I was able to

act as role model and taught the children a variety of sports and arts and crafts. Through spending time with these young kids, I realized how truly appreciative they were to have our attention and time. They were happy with simply swimming in a small pool and playing games. These simple everyday activities to us were so special for them. In the end I discovered that I was even luckier than the children I had met, as I was grateful for their company and presence. To this day I still cherish the surprising impact they had on me. In addition to spending time with kids, I was able to participate in other aspects of community service such as building and painting. At the underprivileged town of La Carpio, I participated in painting houses for those who could

not afford it. Although painting a house may seem to be a small contribution, the owners of the homes were very fortunate for the bright paints, which brought color and happiness into their dwellings. Another contribution made in the community involved the assistance of other people on my trip, as we successfully worked together in building a house for a family. This was an amazing accomplishment, which we worked very hard together to achieve. After being in Costa Rica my eyes were opened to the wonderful opportunities in life, and the fulfillment a person can obtain when helping out nu underprivileged communities and children. Abby Ingber, 15, attends Watchung Hills Regional High School.

PHOTOGRAPHY

Photos 1, 3 by Michael Grant, 16, West Morris Mendham High School. Photos 2, 4, 5 by Julia Zeman, 15, Livingston High School.

11 nu december 2013

POETRY

all about

l ve

Elana Marlowe The waiting Seems like that little status on the portal will never turn Crossing my fingers Oh dear, I look and look and all I see is “in process” How long will it be? Nobody really knows

Desi Brower

I am at the point Which some say is great But others say the opposite My applications are in I have hit “submit” But now I must wait and wait and wait…

His passion in life is tennis He has determination that gives him success His motivation gives him his grand slam titles He is my inspiration

Trying not to think about it but The wait is unbearable Checking so many times per day I must set a limit or else I will go crazy

Nadal is the king of the court To his opponents he serves it hard Which directly hits their pride And then he ends with the victory ride

Someday I am sure The application status will change Three words could appear “Congratulations” “We’re sorry” My wish is for “congratulations” But I must still wait!

With a powerful volley and fantastic agility He owns the winning spirit and smiles every time His humbleness earns him fans His skills make him number one

Elana Marlowe, 17, attends Golda Och Academy.

Defeat never causes him to flinch He doesn’t think about failure He has a strong demeanor Rafael Nadal my all time favorite tennis player Desi Brower, 14, attends Livingston High School.

12 nu december 2013

POETRY

Lauren Oliner

Emma Kane

cand e

I never use stickers. I love the pretty, textured colors, And I could stare at them All day long, And I find every single one So special and unique That I never have an occasion Quite grand enough to use them. So they sit there in The bottom drawer of my desk, Unneeded, unused, Unloved. And one day I look back And realize I’ve lost the Pad of stickers. Always sad At such a thought I promise myself to be more careful Next time. But old habits are so hard to break, So there will always be a soft “Next time” Chanting in my mind As I completely forget To use stickers.

Slowly fading Flickering Burning down to A short stub of nothing As I rest my head on my hands and feel the faintest flicker of warmth on my face As we all know warmth does Have a way of spreading So sitting there Not warmed But not cold I wait for the fading light To turn to nothing As the chill darkness Of the night overwhelms it.

Naturally, we unite and we fight. We attempt to make the world as perfect as possible with guns and with words, with war and with peace. We are steamed from the roots of our unsure ancestors, leaving us with times of triumph and times of failure, leaving us to figure out our own history. We view the government as a perfect place where there is just a sheer sheet that hides the corruption from the eye of the crowd.

world, will this generation ever see peace? With such a mystifying, vague

Mindless thoughts Mindless thoughts never hurt anyone It’s the planned thoughts, The ones they let “Accidently” show on their face, The thoughts you don’t know, Can only guess, That burn and scar And wriggle in your memory. The thoughts that leave Little hints of themselves Throughout the conversation. Those stick with you While you try to go to sleep While you look in the mirror And try to convince yourself That you’re pretty. That’s when you guess, And assume the worst, While mindlessly you put on Too much makeup, And carefully Map out your thoughts.

Lauren Oliner, 13, attends Newark Academy. Emma Kane, 17, attends Livingston High School.

13 nu december 2013

POETRY

Weather the st rm

Emily Zeman

BLACK Aliza Pittinsky

A window light shining through was bright against the BLACK night. A single heart beating in the desolate BLACK street. Beating faster than lightning striking against the BLACK sky. Thinking are they coming for me today or maybe the BLACK boots are coming for me tomorrow. You can hear them coming marching in their eerie beat of death trying to BLACKEN the world. Pushing us through the BLACK gates that seemed to be summoning us to our death. Feeling as though the world has turned its BLACKENED back against you leaving you to suffer. And that window that was once full of light is now BLACK.

Pounding the ground to a steady drumbeat, the pitter-patter of rain seemed everlasting. As the growing wind howled, tree branches learned how to soar through the sky. Before the storm, the flowers on my front lawn blossomed and became an array of bright pinks, reds, and yellows. Chirping birds chatted every day; they shared laughs and endless memories. Slowly, the skies faded to gray and the wind picked up its pace. Careful cracks formed in the perched branches, tension rose in the frigid air, and the bright tulips gradually drooped. Spontaneously, the monster thrashed and the treacherous winds swept who I thought was my best friend for seven years away from me. I was left alone, standing in a barren, dark alley, not knowing where to go and how to get there. Forced to start over, I began the journey again, to find the friends worth suffering for. Emily Zeman, 17, attends Livingston High School.

Aliza Pittinsky, 12, attends Bruriah Junior High School.

juniors call now! FREE FIRST SESSION!

Mickey Gilbert’s

college choice Selection • Application Essay • Interview • Tour

JEWISH TEEN EDUCATIONAL EXPERIENCES NETWORK

JANUARY

FEBRUARY

MARCH

Volunteer: Mitzvot of Greater MetroWest

Apply: Destination: Jewish Service Learning Grant

Give: Iris Teen Tzedakah

APRIL

MAY

JUNE

Volunteer: J-Serve

Advocate: Stand Up for Israel

Learn: JTeenMw@

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AUGUST

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Intern: SeniorITIS

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Visit: High School Jewish Student Groups

Explore: Summer Teen Expo

Contribute: Super Sunday

An individualized college search process

973-263-0421 14 nu december 2013

For more information visit www.jteenMW.org!

LUES

POETRY

RIC O M O SOPH ne

ret B ro k m a

HAIKU S E U L B a Glatt

TO BELIEVEE

Elian

9, Glatt, 1 Eliana on t e Princ attends sity Univer

OR NOT TO BELIEVE Why should I pray to you? Give me one reason why! I can`t see you I can`t hear you I can`t feel you Should I believe in you? Blame you for misfortune? Praise you for the good? Say “thanks” to you? Or curse at you? Does it really even matter? Should I scream at you? Sing to you? Loathe you? Place hope in you? Dishonor you? Or follow you? To be let down again? I don’t believe I won`t believe I can`t believe That you do good That you are here That you do hear My prayers for help No? You can`t give me a reason? Then I`ve made up my mind I won`t believe in you Oh, and G-d, one more thing… See You tomorrow in tefilla

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latt, 1

9, att ends Prince

ton University.

Kineret Brokman, 17, attends Golda Och Academy.

15 nu december 2013

Iris Teen Tzedakah Program The

Teens Make a — Difference in

Your Community!

Become a Teen Tzedakah Advisor for The

Iris Teen Tzedakah Program What Is The Iris Teen Tzedakah Program? It is an opportunity to make a real difference in our local community and around the world through charitable giving based on what we learn together. We will explore how our Jewish community responds to Jewish and other people in need locally, globally, and in Israel. During this two-year program, you will work together with your teen peers and various organizations that can change our community and change the world.

How Does All This Happen? You, along with every Iris Teen Tzedakah Advisor will contribute $200 of your own money each year into a “pool” with all the other teen Advisors. Those funds will be matched dollar-for-dollar by the Herb Iris Youth and Family Philanthropy Endowment. You and other teens will oversee this philanthropic fund and decide how to allocate the money to programs and needs that interest you. You will take part in important meetings and programs throughout these two years with Jewish community leaders, experienced philanthropists, and experts who will teach you about our community and the values and traditions of Jewish giving. This program will ultimately give you the most valuable gift—the power to make a difference!

How Do I Become A Teen Tzedakah Advisor? High school freshmen and sophomores who are interested in this program are asked to submit an application and come to a personal interview.

Who do I contact for more information? Shaina Goldberg, Coordinator of Jewish Service Learning at The Partnership for Jewish Learning and Life, 973-929-2966, sgoldberg@thepartnershipnj.org.

Supported by the Herb Iris Youth and Family Philanthropy Endowment. A collaborative project of The Partnership for Jewish Learning and Life and the Jewish Community Foundation of MetroWest.