Friday, November 13, 2015
Dear Reader,
Nordstrom, the national department store chain known for its customer service, made a holiday sweater for women bearing the words "Hanukkah J.A.P." The theory being that it would be a Jewish version of those adorable/awful reindeer Christmas sweaters? A bit wide of the mark. They pulled the sweater.
National
Nordstrom Drops Offensive Chanukah Sweater
Starbucks isn't the only company under the gun this holiday season.
Rivka Hia
Editorial Intern
Retail chain Nordstrom pulls holiday sweater after complaints from consumers that design was offensive. Via nordstrom.com
At least Nordstrom’s latest fashion faux-pas had holiday cheer.
Until two days ago, the fashion chain was selling a women’s Hanukkah sweater with the words “Chai Maintenance” stitched on the front and “Hanukkah J.A.P.” on the back. J.A.P. often stands for “Jewish American Princess,” a derogatory stereotype of a Jewish-American female.
In response, many customers posted complaints on Nordstrom’s Facebook page. “I'm disappointed to see that Nordstrom is selling such an offensive item that perpetuates negative stereotypes of Jewish women,” wrote one commenter. “I hope you remove it from your inventory.” The store has since removed the sweater from stores, though it still appears on their website.
A similar design in the men’s department attracted no pushback. The version of the sweater marketed towards men is appropriately cheeky, with a “Mazel tov” on the front and an “Oy vey” on the back accompanied by a “Happy Hanukkah” on both sides.
In the past, there has been a similar disparity between clothing items marketed to men vs. those marketed to women. Marvel, the comic book company that also sells clothing, marketed a line of t-shirts in April 2013 that read “Be a Hero” on boys shirts, and “I Need a Hero,” on girls shirts. DC Comics, another comic book company, sold t-shirts in September 2014 that read “Training to be Batman” for boys and “Training to be Batman’s wife,” for girls.
In September 2011, Forever 21 marketed a line of shirts for girls that read, “Allergic to Algebra” and another that read “I’m Too Pretty to Do Homework so My Brother Has to Do it for Me.”
Regarding misusing iconography, Nordstrom’s is not the first clothing company to slip up in recent months. In February 2015, Urban Outfitters put out a concentration camp uniform-esque tapestry which featured a pink triangle eerily reminiscent of uniforms worn by gay prisoners.
The company pulled the item after The Anti-Defamation League, an organization committed to battling anti-Semitism, wrote the CEO that the tapestry was “eerily reminiscent” of the Holocaust garb that gay male prisoners were forced to wear in Nazi concentration camps. In April 2012, the retailer sold a T-shirt which appeared to feature a Star of David on its breast pocket, reminiscent of the patch Jews were forced to wear during the Holocaust.
Zara’s, another large retailer, sold blue and white striped shirts with yellow stars reminiscent of another Holocaust uniform in August 2014, as well as handbags with green swastikas in September 2007; they were both pulled.
What do we want for Hanukkah this year? Let's start with clothing that doesn't offend.
rivka@jewishweek.orgRabbi David Wolpe, one of our most popular columnists, scored a bit hit this week with a piece called "How To Tell A True Jew." Click to find out.
Musings
How To Tell A True Jew
In the words of Menachem Mendel of Vorki, the signs are 'upright kneeling, silent screaming and motionless dance.'
Rabbi David Wolpe
Rabbi David Wolpe
Menachem Mendel of Vorki said you could tell a true Jew by “upright kneeling, silent screaming and motionless dance.” Here is one possible take on that enigmatic phrase:
Upright kneeling: The Jewish posture in this world is supposed to be full, straight and proud. “Son of man, stand on your feet that I may speak to you,” begins God’s message to Ezekiel. Yet at the same time humility, acknowledging one’s smallness before the Creator, is Jewish. One needs both — upright kneeling.
Silent screaming: When Pharaoh’s daughter comes upon Moses the Torah says, “Behold — a child crying.” She saw him but did not hear him. Quiet for fear of those eager to fulfill Pharaoh’s decree to kill Jewish children, Moses cried silently. For generations Jews did not have the safety to cry out loud. They cried, but without sound — silent screaming.
Motionless dance: At moments, in study, in prayer, with another person, one feels great spiritual joy. The soul is in joyous motion. Yet it is not always possible or appropriate to physically express what one spiritually feels. Sitting without a movement, one may still be dancing — motionless dance.
I would not presume to say this is what the rabbi meant. But to me, this is what the rabbi means.
Rabbi David Wolpe is spiritual leader of Sinai Temple in Los Angeles. Follow him on Twitter: @RabbiWolpe. His latest book, “David: The Divided Heart” (Yale University Press), has recently been published.Last week, the country's biggest Jewish movement had its bi-annual meeting, at which all Reform Judaism's sacred cows were considered -- even the primacy of tikkun olam. Hannah Dreyfus has the story.
National
URJ Head Warns Of Limits Of Tikkun Olam
Rabbi Rick Jacobs wades into debate over Jewish values at 5,000-strong Biennial.
Hannah Dreyfus
Staff Writer
Rabbi Rick Jacobs during his keynote address at URJ Biennial last week in Orlando. Courtesy of URJ
He hit them right at their strongest — and weakest — point.
All the social justice issues of the day were there on the agenda at last week’s Reform Biennial — the post-Ferguson race wars, climate change, immigration reform, gender equality. Tikkun olam was everywhere at the Orlando World Center Marriott in Orlando, Fla., as 5,000 Reform Jews gathered in a spirit of repairing the world; it is the glue that cements the faith of many Reform Jews.
But as his flock sat rapt, Rabbi Rick Jacobs, the leader of the Reform movement, Judaism’s largest denomination by a mile, delivered a pointed warning last Thursday night at his keynote address: tikkun olam divorced from tradition is doomed to fail.
“Social justice not grounded in text and ritual is ephemeral and unsustainable,” exhorted Rabbi Jacobs, as he paced the stage and gestured dramatically. “Like a bouquet of fresh flowers, it is destined to dry up and wither. It cannot be easily passed down to the next generation.”
The Biennial, the Reform movement’s largest gathering, this year attracted delegations from more than 500 congregations including 450 rabbis, 250 congregational presidents and 120 cantors. Rabbi Jacob’s keynote is usually a highlight of the Biennial, often setting the movement on a new path; last time around he articulated the concept of “audacious hospitality,” pushing the movement to be as welcoming as possible to those who might be considered outsiders. That philosophy reached a high-water mark in Orlando when the movement adopted what is believed to be the most far-reaching resolution on transgender rights of any major religious organization.
But this time around, Rabbi Jacobs cut to the heart of a debate in Jewish circles about the application of Jewish values.
Reform continuity, and the danger of “universalism at the expense of particularism,” in the words of Rabbi Jacobs, became a focus of the conference, even as breakout sessions focused heavily on the social justice issues of the day.
In recent years, the Reform movement, which once prided itself on a departure from traditional observance, or halacha, is slowly moving back towards the center. The new Reform High Holiday prayer book, or machzor, released earlier this year, includes significantly more Hebrew and traditional liturgy than versions past. The same holds true of the most recent Reform siddur, “Mishkan T’filah,” released in 2007 and used in URJ-affiliated congregations around the world. Morning and evening prayer services were held every day of the conference, and on Shabbat a kosher option was available. And while “classical” Reform rabbis sometimes shunned kipas, at this year’s conference they were seen generously sprinkled throughout the crowd, on male and female heads alike.
The Reform movement appears healthy — the 2013 Pew Center’s “Portrait of American Jewry” found that 35 percent of American Jews consider themselves Reform, more than Orthodox, Conservative and “Other” combined (Jews who don’t identify with any denomination make up the remainder). However, new findings from the 2014 Pew “Religious Landscape Study” leave room for concern. Results show that the U.S. public overall is becoming “less religious,” with Pew’s 2007 “Religious Landscape Study” finding that 83 percent of adults surveyed would describe themselves as religiously affiliated, compared with 77 percent in 2014. The growth in non-affiliation is driven largely by the millennial generation, those born between 1981 and 1996, according to the study.
A broad, humanitarian focus aids the movement’s popularity, said Rabbi Jacobs. While those who “claim a monopoly on Jewish authenticity” — the Orthodox — pay fastidious attention to kashrut, Shabbat observance and making sure there is no chametz on Passover, said Rabbi Jacobs, there is too little concern for more universal concerns, including income equality and the rights of Arab citizens in Israel.
“Prophet Amos railed against divorcing ritual observance from public and private ethics,” said Rabbi Jacob, quoting scripture to thundering applause from the crowd. “Our movement believes it is impossible to detach tikkun olam from serious Judaism — that sets us apart.”
Still, wooing the next generation of Reform Jews solely with a mission of social justice, a message that speaks to a demographic that is seeking meaning but is increasingly skeptical of organized religion, could come at a serious price.
“A vision of Judaism that stops there is dangerously limited,” said the lanky Rabbi Jacobs, a former dancer, as he strode across the stage during his keynote address. “Just as we cannot build and sustain our Jewish community on ritual and study, neither can we build and sustain our Jewish identity solely on being good citizens of the world.”
That tension was a recurrent theme in the breakout learning sessions over the course of the five-day Biennial, as educators exchanged challenges and successes regarding engaging the next generation of Reform Jews.
Allison Levin, a youth department volunteer at Congregation Beth Or in Maple Glen, Pa., co-led a session on innovative models of synagogue-based youth engagement. The 1,000-family Montgomery County synagogue has a thriving youth department, with 600 children from kindergarten through 12th grade. The key, she said, is re-establishing the synagogue as a “social center” for children and parents.
“It’s too common for parents to view synagogue as a temporary obligation for their kids, and then disappear after the bar or bat mitzvah,” she said. Creative programming for young children, including “Munchkin Minyan,” a prayer service for tots and their parents, has the potential for lasting power. “Parents are looking for community as much as their kids.”
April Baskin, URJ’s new vice president of “audacious hospitality,” the movement’s catchphrase to describe an aggressive new outreach initiative, gave several sessions over the course of the conference about embracing multiracial Jews. The conversation, which touched on racial profiling, police violence and the recent protests in Ferguson, Mo., blended the movement’s push for social consciousness with the prerogative of engaging new members.
“Jews of color are perpetual strangers in Judaism,” said Baskin during a session titled “I’m Not a Custodian, I’m a Congregant: Embracing Racial Diversity in the Synagogue.”
“Rarely does a Jew of color walk into any space and know they’ll be treated as a Jew, rather than as an outcast or even a source of danger,” she said.
Baskin, from a multiracial background herself, used a continuum to describe the experience of many Jews of color, who, according to studies, now make up about 10 percent of the Jewish population. The spectrum of self-identity ranged from “outcast” and “foreigner” to “visitor,” “token member” and finally, “member.”
“Ensuring that Jews of color feel comfortable in our holy spaces will advance our principles of inclusion and tikkun olam, and expand our membership,” said Baskin.
Similarly, in a resolution affirming the equality of transgender people and welcoming them into congregations, camps and other Reform Jewish institutions, the movement made clear its commitment to present-day issues of public concern. The resolution passed unanimously on the second day of the conference; it was the only item from the five-day conference to generate headlines in mainstream media.
“This is who we are as a movement,” said URJ Chairman Stephen Sacks. “We were the first movement to welcome gays and lesbians into our communities: this resolution is the next step.”
In a session called “Beyond Bathroom Signs,” Rabbi Erin Mason, director of the URJ’s Camp Newman in Santa Rosa, Calif., spoke about the camp’s decision to open its doors to transgender campers and counselors, a move it kept quiet for the past two years in order not to upset parents.
“Now that this resolution is passed, we can be open and proud of our decision,” said Rabbi Mason, who described the staff’s decision to accommodate one camper who preferred the pronouns “they/their/them” to any gender-specific pronouns.
“I’m really proud of the movement,” said Adam, 16, a leader in the Reform movement national youth group, the North American Federation of Temple Youth (NFTY), who asked us to only use his first name. “I think passing a resolution like this demonstrates a deep social consciousness and an understanding of what the younger generation cares about.”
In addition to the movement’s bid to win over young souls by taking a stance on contemporary issues, Danny Meyer, CEO of Union Square Hospitality Group (well known for the hamburger super-chain Shake Shack) and a panelist at the conference, gave some hard-won advice about truly successful “audacious hospitality.” (Meyer’s recent bestselling book, “Setting the Table,” discussed the power of hospitality to transform a business.)
“Success is 49 parts how good you are at what you do, and 51 parts how good you make people feel,” he said. Institutionalized religion makes the grave error of believing they have a captive audience, he said. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking young people need you,” he added, quipping that after this word of advice he would start to charge. “Hospitality is different than service. You have to give young people a reason to stay.”
That “reason to stay,” Rabbi Jacobs stressed, has to marry Jewish tradition with a deep caring for those outside the community, in a way that perhaps only Reform Jews can do.
editor@jewishweek.orgHave a great weekend, everyone,
Helen Chernikoff
Web Director
THE ARTS
Matisyahu performing in Moscow, December 7, 2015. JTA
Matisyahu: Leaving Orthodoxy 'One Of The Hardest Things'
JTA
With his clean-shaven face and hip clothing, it’s easy to forget that Matisyahu was a Hasidic icon before he was just a Jewish one.
But on a segment of HuffPost Live on Tuesday, the Jewish reggae singer called leaving the Hasidic community “one of the hardest things [he] had to go through.”
From 2001 to 2007, Matisyahu (born Matthew Miller) was associated with the Chabad-Lubavitch movement based in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. In 2011, he shaved the bushy beard that had become a signature part of his image.
“I’m aware of who I am and what I represent to different people and that I came out as a Hasidic Orthodox Jewish artist … and when you have such a strong identity, you know, most people are not able to break from that type of thing,” Matisyahu said. “I didn’t really think about what the reaction would be, honestly, how it would affect people.”
Matisyahu for years performed wearing a yarmulke or black hat and other traditional Hasidic garb. After shedding that image and becoming less religious, he told the Huffington Post that he got “hit with a wave of very upset or confused people.”
“A lot of people made the automatic assumption that it was sort of the rock and roll lifestyle playing its due course and it was just a matter of time before that lifestyle would take its toll and sort of take me into the dark side,” he said. “In fact, the decision for me to let go of the board and to make those changes was an incredibly spiritual and honest experience.”
When he shaved his beard, he issued a statement that said: “And for those concerned with my naked face, don’t worry … you haven’t seen the last of my facial hair.” However, he has not been seen with a significant beard since.
Matisyahu’s latest album was released in June 2014, but he has been back in the media spotlight in recent months after being disinvited and then invited back to a Spanish festival.
Since the August festival, he has played in Jerusalem multiple times.
editor@jewishweek.org
FOOD & WINE
Made In Brooklyn
'Made In Brooklyn'
Lauren Rothman
Jewish Week Online Columnist
These days, the high-wattage trendiness of the formerly humble borough known as Brooklyn is almost a punchline to an (admittedly bad) joke. Not only do New Yorkers (and bridge-and-tunnel types) flock to Brooklyn’s bars, clubs, cafes and restaurants, but the word “Brooklyn” is actually used as a synonym for “cool” in the French language, much as, in years past, Parisians used the term “Bronx” to describe a totally out-of-control situation. While the borough’s cool factor is evident in the numbers of tourists who flock here, in the skyrocketing rents of the historical brownstones, and in Brooklyn-designed-and-inspired fashion, nowhere is it more blazingly apparent than in the popular — and quality — restaurants bars and independent food businesses that have all but subsumed neighborhoods from Greenpoint to Prospect Heights and beyond. It sometimes seems as if all the new eateries written up in newspapers, magazines and blogs alike are located a stone’s throw from a G train stop.
Things weren’t always like this. As a kid growing up in sleepy Brooklyn Heights in the ‘90s, I distinctly remember that, besides the occasional standout pizza joint, the only decent restaurant within walking distance of my foodie parents’ brownstone was a now-shuttered Cajun-style place that served unimpeachable, rigorously authentic gumbo and fried seafood. Needless to say, we frequented it about twice a week, and, also needless to say, it was always packed because our friends and neighbors, too, were hungry for some good eats. A few years later, in the early aughts, my mom, dad, brother and I would pile into the car for the 10-minute drive to Williamsburg, which at the time was still an affordable artists’ enclave that had recently seen the opening of some interesting and affordable restaurants such as Oznot’s Dish (RIP) and Chickenbone Cafe, pre-star-chefdom Zakary Pellacio’s first venture (RIP).
Of course, the days of scouring Brooklyn for elevated, thoughtful cuisine are a distant memory: the ascent of the food scene here was like wildfire, fast-moving and impossible to curb. It’s this phenomenon that authors Susanne Konig and Melissa Schreiber Vaughan trace in their new book, “Made in Brooklyn: An Essential Guide to the Borough’s Artisanal Food & Drink Makers,” released late last month by the influential DUMBO bookstore and publisher powerHouse Books. In this handsome coffee table tome featuring appealing full-color photographs by Brooklyn-based photographer Heather Weston, Konig, powerHouse’s director and buyer, and Schreiber Vaughan, a food writer and recipe developer, provide a richly textured and eminently practical guide to 107 of Kings County’s passionate food makers and crafters both new-wave and old, from Red Hook’s Widow Jane Distillery (opened 2012) to Brownsville’s Fox’s U-Bet chocolate syrup factory (established 1900).
There’s not exactly a dire shortage of new books about Brooklyn; a cursory Amazon search turns up the 2016 edition of “The Food Enthusiast’s Complete Restaurant Guide to Brooklyn” as well as last year’s “Brooklyn Spirits: Craft Distilling and Cocktails from the World’s Hippest Borough.” But “Made in Brooklyn” sets itself apart with the depth and warmth of its reporting: each featured business gets a full two-page spread of photos, plus a meaty blurb detailing the company’s history and its signature products. In its hardcover version, the book isn’t exactly one you’re going to want to tote around on your subway explorations of Brooklyn, but it’s nonetheless a practical guide that you’ll certainly want to dogear (or Post-It note or iPhone photo-snap) before making a day out of eating your way through Greenpoint or Bay Ridge or Bed-Stuy.
Flipping through the book inspires two feelings: one, incredible hunger — the photos really are good — and two, wonder at the immense diversity of the business represented within. There’s Vinegar Hill’s Damascus Bakery, a third-generation, family-owned Syrian bakery that supplies downtown Brooklyn with superior pita, lavash, and date cookies; Red Hook’s La Newyorkina, Mexican native Fany Gerson’s paleta, or ice pop, company; Williamsburg’s uber-hipster Mast Brothers Chocolate, run by a pair of tall, handsome, bearded and bespectacled brothers whose mastery of their craft almost justifies their bars’ $9 price tag. Like their home borough itself, these makers are a varied lot, but they all have one thing in common: their passion for, and dedication to, their craft. I’m looking forward to many more years of eating and drinking Brooklyn’s bounty.
Read More 
CULTURE VIEW
Jews, Blacks And Deli
Ted Merwin
Special To The Jewish Week
Ted Merwin
When the Anglo-Jewish playwright Israel Zangwill, in his popular 1908 drama, “The Melting Pot,” invented the term that became a major metaphor for how we view the ethnic life of New York, he wasn’t talking about food. Zangwill’s idea was that Old World European immigrants were being amalgamated with other immigrants in a divine “crucible” to form a sturdier, more self-reliant kind of person. But the reality, then as today, is that cultures do meet through food; Americans (beginning with the colonists and the Native Americans, as we celebrate at Thanksgiving) liberally sample each other’s dishes, often adopting them as their own.
Walk into Lenny’s Deli in Owings Mills, Md. (just outside Baltimore) and take a look at the menu, which includes not just corned beef sandwiches and knishes, but fried chicken and macaroni and cheese. The owners are Jewish, but almost all of the employees are black, and the clientele is a mixture of blacks and Jews. The two cultures are presented side by side, united through the foods that they eat.
Every culture has its soul food, to which the members of that culture go to seek a sense of comfort, consolation, and connection to their ancestors. For Jewish Americans, it is often the Eastern European-derived food of the delicatessen — peppery pastrami, succulent corned beef, and matzah ball dumplings with chicken soup. For African-Americans, it is often the food of the South — crispy fried chicken, glossy collard greens, and creamy sweet potato pie.
Somewhere along the way, blacks discovered Jewish food too, and made it their own. As Marcie Cohen Ferris wrote in her book, “Matzoh Ball Gumbo: Culinary Tales of the Jewish South” (University of North Carolina Press, 2010), black Southern cooks who worked in Jewish homes brought the flavors of the bayou to their preparation of Jewish dishes, using beef stock and Creole spices in their matzah ball soup and frying green tomatoes in matzah ball batter. When African-Americans migrated to the North after the First World War, they continued eating Jewish food, and they found Jewish delis to be more welcoming than other types of white-owned restaurants. (This was not universally true, though; a Depression-era deli in Baltimore required that black patrons bring their own plates, and Charles Lebedin, the owner of Leb’s Delicatessen in Atlanta, was the target of a famous sit-in during the civil rights era.)
Lyon’s Deli, on Maxwell Street in Chicago, was sold in 1973 by owner Ben Lyon to one of his African-American countermen, Nate Duncan, who continued for two decades to sell corned beef, pickled herring and gefilte fish to the neighborhood’s predominantly African-American population. (It’s a setting in the 1980 film, “The Blues Brothers,” where it’s called the Soul Food Café.)
And in one of his classic 1970s “On the Road” episodes, journalist Charles Kuralt profiled Jerry Meyers, the volatile, high-pressure owner of Jerry’s Deli on Chicago’s Grand Avenue; Meyer’s son, Michael, quoted by Kuralt, calls Jerry’s “the most integrated store in the world,” praising his father for “liking black and white the same.” Little wonder that when Barack Obama was running for his first term as president, he made a highly publicized stop at Manny’s, a Jewish deli in Chicago’s South Loop.
Blacks are certainly not the only non-Jews to prize deli food. Brent’s Deli, in the Northridge section of Los Angeles, seemed, on the basis of a visit last week, to have more Asian and Latino customers than Jewish ones. Langer’s, which Nora Ephron thought had the best pastrami sandwich in the country, is in Westlake, a Central L.A. neighborhood that is now predominantly Latino. Delis in New York, from Katz’s to the 2nd Avenue Deli, are destination restaurants for non-Jewish tourists from all over the country and all over the world.
But African-Americans certainly developed a special fondness for the deli, as symbolized by a 1960s ad for Levy’s Rye Bread (“You Don’t Have to Be Jewish to Love Levy’s Real Jewish Rye”) featuring a black boy eating a deli sandwich; Malcolm X liked it so much that he famously had his own picture taken alongside the ad. Bayard Rustin, the black civil rights activist, was eating a knish on a New York street corner in 1970 when he was spotted by Robert M. Morgenthau, a Jewish politician who had just lost the race for governor. “I’m eating the reason why you’re not governor,” Rustin told him, referring to the fact that one of Morgenthau’s opponents, Nelson Rockefeller, had campaigned more frequently in delis.
Michael Twitty is an African-American chronicler of Southern foodways who converted to Judaism in 2002. He speculated that African-Americans “got a taste for a reasonably inexpensive, novel, tasty meal,” with a “similar taste profile” to Southern cooking. “After all,” he said, “if you grew up eating country ham on a biscuit, then it wasn’t too far to go to eating pastrami on rye.”
[Ted Merwin, who writes about theater for the paper, is the author of “Pastrami on Rye: An Overstuffed History of the Jewish Deli” (NYU Press). He teaches religion at Dickinson College in Carlisle, Pa.]Read More
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Zooey Deschanel Joins The Tribe
Indie-adorable actress Zooey Deschanel converts to Judaism...score
JTA
Actress Zooey Deschanel has converted to Judaism.
Deschanel, the daughter of a Quaker and Roman Catholic, converted shortly before marrying producer Jacob Pechenik, Us Weekly reported Monday. The article did not say what denomination of rabbi supervised her conversion.
The two married in June, a month before the birth of their daughter, Elsie.
“Zooey converted to Judaism for Jacob,” an unidentified “insider” told the celebrity magazine.
Deschanel, 35, stars in the Fox sitcom “New Girl” and has appeared in numerous films, including “Mumford” and “Almost Famous.”
Read More BLOGS
Poltical Insider
'Best Part Of Being Jewish'
Douglas Bloomfield
Donald Trump has suggested customers should begin boycotting Starbucks because the company's traditional red holiday cups don't have any Christmassy decorations.
"Did you read about Starbucks? No more Merry Christmas on Starbucks," the bloviating billionaire told a rally in Springfield, Illinois, this week.
Trump, who is trying to attract evangelical support, threatened to retaliate by ending the lease of a Godless Starbucks in one of his buildings because he was so offended. Maybe he just wasn't paying attention.
The only thing on the red cup is the company's famous green logo. Get it, Donald? Green and red?
Guess not.
"If I become president [ed.: G-d Forbid], we're all going to be saying, 'Merry Christmas' again. That I can tell you," Trump announced. He did not say whether that extends to his daughter, who converted to Orthodox Judaism in 2009, or her children and husband, Jared Kushner, who presumably celebrate Chanukah at this time of year and not Christmas.
Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn what they put on the cups. I'm not a coffee drinker. but if I were I'd have a special bias for Dunkin' Donuts since it began putting my wife's name on its everyday cups for this holiday season: Joy. And why not? She's Jewish, so was Jesus.
"Best part of being Jewish?" mused my friend Brian Kupersmit on his Facebook page. "I really don't give a crap about the Starbucks Christmas cups you goyim seem to like discussing."
The New NormalSuccessful Jewish Education: Parents As Our Partners
Lisa Friedman
Parents As Our Partners. Courtesy Of Matan
Editor's Note: Thanks to Lisa Friedman and Matan for sharing this blog, which originally appeared on the Matan web site.In our Matan Institutes we work with Jewish Educators to guide them in including children of all abilities in Jewish education, offering concrete teaching tools for reaching every student and empowering them to make lasting change in their schools and communities. One of the things we discuss at length is the critical need for strong partnerships between parents and the school.
Educators and classroom teachers can often get “stuck” on the various ways that parents challenge them and they typically want specific pointers on how to handle difficult conversations with parents.
While eager to help their students, many teachers seem to feel great apprehension around the ways to develop open and supportive communication with parents. It is important to begin by reframing these conversations and helping educators to see another perspective such as Five Things Parents Want Religious School Educators to Know.
Open and supportive communication with parents is essential for a successful Jewish supplemental school experience for any child, especially those with special learning needs.
These are some key points that can help to build the foundation for meaningful, supportive and productive relationships between educators and parents:
It’s all about relationships:
The work that we do in synagogues is relationship based. Building strong, lasting relationships with congregants is at the center of the work of rabbis, cantors, educators and other synagogue professionals. It should also be at the center of the work of our teachers in supplemental schools. Strong relationships are built on trust. Our parents need to trust that we are really here to support their children and that we really want to take this journey with them. All the more so for families of children with special needs, which leads to my second key point.
Say YES:
Parents of children with disabilities often spend many hours of their days in “battle”. They struggle with doctors, insurance agents, therapists, secular school teachers and so on. When they join a faith community, I believe they are seeking a place where they don’t have to fight, where they can be accepted as they are and where their family can come for respite and rejuvenation. It would seem logical that they should be able find this in a synagogue community. The most significant thing that synagogue professionals can say to parents and family members of those with disabilities is, “Yes, we can meet “Jonah’s” needs…now help us understand how to do that.” Or “Yes, of course your family can worship here and be a part of our community; please help us to understand how we can make that possible for you.” I am not suggesting that every request can and will be met with “yes”, but we have to start by opening the door and building the relationship, so that if there are things that are not possible, we can speak about them openly and honestly. When we start with yes, we rely on our trusting relationships to guide us.
Parents of children with disabilities and special learning needs need to grieve:
When parents learn of a child’s disability, they need to grieve; not for the child, but for the idea of what they thought parenting would be. They have to process through the grief of what they may not be able to have, while coming to terms with the new reality of what they can have. This is not easy. But isn’t this the very nature of the work of a religious community? Aren’t we in the business of pastoral care? Too often I think that educators believe that grief counseling is the work of clergy. Too often we compartmentalize our congregant’s needs into “clergy stuff’ and “school stuff”. But when a child with special needs significantly struggles in religious school, parents can be thrown back into the grief cycle, this time wondering if they will have to give up on their idea of bar/bat mitzvah (not to mention Confirmation, Jewish marriage or the many other Jewish life cycle events). When educators focus on a student’s limitations, they put a family back into a stance of defensiveness. Again, I am not suggesting that we don’t ever discuss a child’s limitations, but rather that we do so in the context of supporting relationships that begin with an emphasis on the abilities and what is possible. When we honor the grief process and support families, we develop the trusting and lasting relationships necessary to help children find success in all settings.
Fostering partnerships between parents and the school that are built on trusting relationships will lead us to build communities with open doors; ensuring that our congregations, our schools and our hearts will welcome all.
[Lisa Friedman is Matan’s Manager of Social Media and Alumni Networks. She is also an Education Director at a Reform congregation in Central New Jersey where she oversees the synagogue’s and religious school’s inclusive practice.]Read More
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