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June 15, 2007
Reflections on Camp Miriam
The labor-Zionist youth movement has changed over the years.
BERNICE LEVITZ PACKFORD
I was flooded with memories when I learned that my three grandchildren
– Ayal, Tamar and Adam, children of my daughter, Leah, and
son-in-law, Uri Levi – were working at Camp Miriam, on Gabriola
Island, B.C., this summer.
Reflecting back, little did I know that, in January 1946, when I
rented a room with kitchen privileges in the Gurvevich home on West
19th between Cambie and Oak, I was going to have the privilege of
living in the bosom of the family where Camp Miriam was born. Not
only that, but I had the good fortune to live in a home where harmony
reigned.
Rose and Abe Gurvevich, a modest, hard-working couple, immigrants,
accepted me as part of their family. "Kitchen privileges"
meant that I was always welcome to partake when Mrs. Gurvevich was
cooking her delicious Jewish food. I never heard a cross word exchanged
between Mr. and Mrs. Gurvevich. I never heard either of them say
a derogatory word about their relatives or anyone else in the Vancouver
Jewish world.
The Gurveviches were part and parcel of Vancouver's growing Jewish
community, but I don't remember either one of them going to meetings.
Remember, this was more than 50 years ago, when the tiny Vancouver
Jewish Community Centre was on the corner of 11th and Oak. The Jewish
population was smaller, more homogenous and without the differences
in income and status that are present today. The Gurvevich household
was one where people dropped in and most of the social interaction
took place around the kitchen table with tea and cookies. This is
how I met the family's relatives and friends. This was the milieu
that nurtured the Gurvevich's three daughters, Reita, Shirley and
Blossom.
The oldest daughter, Reita (Goldberg), was not as involved in Habonim
as her two younger sisters. Shirley and Blossom were in high school
and both were ardent Habonimers. Every free moment they had was
devoted to Habonim, a labor-Zionist youth movement. How they ever
graduated from Grade 12 is a mystery to me.
I lived in the Gurveviches' home for about three years. By the time
I moved out, it was understood that Habonim had to have a camp of
its own to carry out its mandate of preparing members to make aliyah
and live on a kibbutz. In the meantime, Shirley, Blossom and other
members rented camps from mid-August to Labor Day for several years.
By the early 1950s, with the inspiring leadership of Shirley and
Blossom, Vancouver Habonim was the proud owner of its own camp -
known today as Camp Miriam. By this time, Shirley and Blossom had
already made aliyah to Israel. Blossom settled with her husband
on a moshav, raising dairy cows, and Shirley joined a kibbutz. Blossom,
of blessed memory, left behind a husband and children, all of whom
are still on the moshav and continue to milk cows. Shirley, a mother
of three children, has retired from her kibbutz and is working for
a Conservative synagogue in Omer, close to Be'er Sheva.
The overall goal of Habonim was, and still is, to imbue each camper
with the value of co-operation based on respect for each other,
their counsellors and camp staff. Counsellors and camp staff face
challenges today that are different from the ones that my daughter,
Leah, experienced when she went to Camp Miriam in the early '60s.
Even my grandchildren, who went to Camp Miriam as soon as they were
old enough and completed all age levels of programming, did not
have the same experience as today's campers.
In my grandchildrens' time, there were no cellphones, digital cameras,
iPods, e-mail and Internet. Parents and campers were forbidden to
contact each other unless it was a dire emergency. Instead, once
or twice during the camping season, an open house for parents was
held when parents were allowed to come and see their precious offspring.
These open houses were held between sessions to facilitate the arrival
and departure of campers. This kind of arrangement, scrupulously
observed, made the summer intense. This total immersion facilitated
an experience that cannot be replicated today. The close bond formed
between campers and counsellors carried over when campers went home,
thus facilitating continued participation in Habonim.
Leah made aliyah in the 1970s and settled on Kibbutz Gezer, where
she met her husband-to-be, a Sabra. Ten years later, Leah and Uri
settled in Victoria with Ayal and Tamar; Adam was born in Victoria.
The future is changing
When the British unilaterally withdrew from their League of Nations
mandate in early May 1948, a shadow government under the leadership
of David Ben-Gurion issued the Declaration of Independence on May
14, 1948. It was the kibbutz settlements and Israel's underground
army, the Haganah, which made Israel as a Jewish state possible.
Since the beginning of the kibbutz movement in the late 19th century,
it was always adapting to changing circumstances. This is evident
at Degania Aleph, one of Israel's earliest kibbutzim. It recently
completed a three-year study on its future and this report, which
was overwhelmingly approved, further reduced the communal nature
of Degania Aleph. It is because Degania Aleph is the best-known
kibbutz that its latest decision has resulted in so much publicity.
The message is clear: the Habonim policy based on making aliyah
to live on a kibbutz is no longer viable. Diaspora Habonim is already
engaged in soul-searching to chart new directions. The changes taking
place in the kibbutzim do not weaken the tie of Habonim to Israel,
however. Their ties to Israel remain strong because it is the Jewish
homeland.
My three grandchildren are fully involved in this process, while
never losing sight of the importance of Camp Miriam. They see it
strengthening Jewish identity and imbuing Jewish youth with philosophy
and values based on co-operation and interdependence. I am fascinated
and intrigued as I listen to my grandchildren struggle to fashion
a world where respect and working for the common good are the goals.
It isn't easy, as all this is taking place in a world where wars,
peak oil prices and global warming are battering us.
These upheavals make Camp Miriam essential for Jewish youngsters.
At Camp Miriam, they have the opportunity to be in nature, to camp
overnight under the stars, to swim in the ocean or the pool, to
help run the camp (including cleaning toilets) and to work with
each other. Believe it or not, they call this having fun! As many
counsellors and staff are former campers, they are realistic in
their expectations of their charges. Their job is to enable each
and every camper to benefit to the fullest from their experience.
No camper is refused, regardless of the family's financial circumstances
and/or physical and/or mental challenges that the camper may have.
Since Camp Miriam was purchased in the early 1950s, the camp committee
and supporters have worked tirelessly to maintain, enlarge and improve
the grounds. They raised enough money to add an adjoining five acres,
install a large, heated swimming pool and winterize the cabins.
They also built a new dining/meeting hall and, this year, installed
a brand new kitchen.
As parents and grandparents, our responsibility is to cheer from
the sidelines and continue to support this bold adventure.
My heartfelt appreciation goes out to those who have debated, planned
and worked for more than 50 years to ensure that Camp Miriam continues
to flourish and thrive.
Bernice Levitz Packford lives in Victoria.
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