Yachad activities in summer 2023 included one where campers were given a large box, tape, bubble wrap and scissors and told to make a functioning boat. (photo from Camp Hatikvah)
In the summer of 2023, Camp Hatikvah introduced a new activity just for their 13- and 14-year-old campers called Yachad. Named after the Hebrew word for together, Yachad was introduced with the aim of fostering connections and breaking down the barriers that sometimes divide today’s teenagers.
“Motivating teenagers to step out of their comfort zones can be a challenge. With this in mind, our goal was to design something new that breaks the ice, melts away self-consciousness, and brings campers together,” said Liza Rozen-Delman, executive director.
Knowing their audience well, Camp Hatikvah decided that friendly competition would be the key to success.
At the beginning of the summer, campers were organized into “house” teams and told that this would be their team for the whole summer while they competed for end-of-session prizes like a trip to the ice cream store.
In one of the Yachad activities, campers had to dress up like the characters of a movie they picked out of a hat. (photo from Camp Hatikvah)
Every second day or so, these teams would engage in wacky daytime competitions that required more enthusiasm than skill. From dress-up competitions to hilariously messy slime wars, Yachad quickly became a favourite activity among campers.
“We never knew what was coming next,” said one 14-year-old camper, “so each time Yachad came around we were filled with anticipation and excitement.”
The heart of Yachad lies in its unique approach to team building. Without knowing it, campers are learning myriad skills like communication and adaptability (shh … don’t tell them).
“The program is centred on the belief that shared experiences have the power to forge lasting bonds. In the midst of extraordinary escapades, campers not only form new individual friendships but also contribute to building a tight-knit community – a community that embodies the very essence of Camp Hatikvah’s mission,” said Rozen-Delman.
Another Yachad activity challenged campers to make an ugly Hanukkah sweater. (photo from Camp Hatikvah)
Last year’s activities included “noodle fencing,” where campers jousted with floppy pool noodles; a “wedding dress challenge,” where campers designed a dress using a spool of tulle; an “ugly Hanukkah sweater challenge,” where campers were given a sweatshirt and all sorts of tacky Hanukkah décor to attach onto it; and a “Disney challenge,” where the team needed to dress up like the characters of a movie they picked out of a hat.
“The highlight for me was the boat regatta,” shared a camper. “We were each given a large box, tape, bubble wrap and scissors and told to make a functioning boat. One of our teammates then had to go onto the lake in it to see if it floated. Ours didn’t last long and it was hilarious.”
“Yachad celebrates the joy of togetherness, unleashing the power of pure, unfiltered fun,” said Rozen-Delman. “In a world that is so heavy, it’s really just what these kids need.”
Looking ahead, Camp Hatikvah is already planning a repertoire of creative and crazy Yachad activities for the summer of 2024 – the sillier the better, as Camp Hatikvah knows the power of fun in bringing kids together and building community.
Time at summer camp is an incredible gift to give kids and teens. (photo from Camp Kalsman)
In a world where children and teens are met with a barrage of external pressures telling them who they should idolize, what they should wear and how they should spend their time, summer camps provide a respite. As much as I try to help my three kids build resilience and a strong moral compass, I know that, as soon as they walk out the door, it can be an uphill battle every day of the school year.
As parents, we need more places outside of our home where our kids and teens can feel at home while they can practise the critical thinking, self-awareness and problem-solving skills we all know are so essential. This is why I love summer camp for my kids – and I’m not just saying that because I’m the director of a summer camp! Ask anyone who grew up at an overnight summer camp and most will tell you that camp was where they felt most comfortable in their own skin, where they were celebrated for exactly who they were, and where they learned many of the lessons that have stuck with them throughout their adult life.
Here are the top three life lessons that kids and teens can take away from summer camp.
1. Find your people
Each summer, kids arrive at camp with a ton of baggage and it’s not just in the form of trunks and duffels and sleeping bags. The beauty of summer camp is that campers can shed that layer (or layers) of themselves that build up over the course of the year and spend time exploring who they are, what brings them joy, who brings out the best in them … without the pressures of school peers who “know them.”
The beauty of summer camp is that campers can shed that layer (or layers) of themselves that build up over the course of the year and spend time exploring who they are, what brings them joy. (photo from Camp Kalsman)
Spending time in an immersive environment like overnight camp enables kids and teens to be vulnerable with their peers in a safe and supported way; eventually worrying less about how they “should be” and feeling more comfortable and confident in who they are. It’s in this state of self-confidence – nurtured by kind, compassionate counselors – that campers are able to find “their people” who “just get them,” reinforcing what we at URJ Camp Kalsman (and every other overnight summer camp!) have known for years: camp friends are the best friends.
2. Be still, present, open
Camp creates an environment that is ripe for self-awareness, self-discovery and meaningful connections away from the pressures of school, sports and, yes, well-meaning adults at home. Without a message to respond to or an assignment to complete, kids and teens are presented with … time. Not the time filled with camp activities (although there is plenty of that, too) but those significant, intentional moments where nothing is planned … the 15 minutes of serenity in the canoe in the middle of the lake or the walk, together with a friend from the cabin, to the dining hall under a canopy of trees, or the silence after hours of belly-laughter, staring up at the stars surrounded by cabinmates. The stillness of those moments, which are so hard to come by when we are shuffling kids to and from school and activities, are priceless and are built into the fabric of summer camp.
Camp creates an environment that is ripe for self-awareness, self-discovery and meaningful connections. (photo from Camp Kalsman)
3. Don’t run from mistakes
As parents, we want our kids to be gritty – to be able to take responsibility for a mistake and bounce back, whether from making a poor choice, disappointing a friend, failing a test, or not being cast in the school play. At camp, mistakes and failure happen every day, and kids must live with it – there is no escape, they can’t hide in their rooms alone or take the long way to class to avoid a friend. Camp is a 24/7 living and learning experience, where campers are supported and guided through conflict and failure, whether it is not making it to the top of the tower or tension with a bunkmate. Mistakes happen, we fall short of expectations, and camp provides the structure to help kids recognize where they missed the mark and the opportunity to try again tomorrow – or in 15 minutes!
Time at summer camp is an incredible gift to give kids and teens – one that they will benefit from long into adulthood.
Rabbi Ilana Millsis camp director, URJ Camp Kalsman. If you are interested in learning more about URJ Camp Kalsman, visit campkalsman.org or contact Mills at imills@urj.org.
“This summer, the grounds of Camp Hatikvah will echo with laughter, song, and the spirited expressions of Jewish and Israel pride”: Liza Rozen-Delman, camp executive director. (photo from Camp Hatikvah)
For decades, Camp Hatikvah has been a cornerstone of the Jewish community, serving as a summer haven where traditions are cherished, friendships blossom and identities are proudly embraced. It has always been more than just a recreational retreat; it has been a powerful catalyst in shaping the future leaders of the Jewish community.
Developed in the aftermath of the Holocaust, Hatikvah was created to produce proud, happy Jewish youth who were committed to the rebuilding of the Jewish people and a homeland in Israel. As a 1949 article in the Jewish Western Bulletin (the predecessor of the Jewish Independent) stated, Camp Hatikvah provided early participants with a “place where they could live and express themselves as Jews, unhampered with fear of others and free from the out-of-place feeling that is so often a part of North American Jewishness.”
Today, as we witness a disheartening resurgence of antisemitism, the original mission of Camp Hatikvah seems to be as important as it was at the time of the camp’s creation.
“The need for a space where children can feel safe, embrace their heritage and express their identity without reservation is, once again, vital” said Liza Rozen-Delman, the camp’s executive director. “I am devastated by the current state of the world, but we are dedicated to rising above it and playing a critical role in combating hate.”
The camp’s leadership recognizes the need to renew its dedication to its original mandate, emphasizing that, in the face of external threats, the camp becomes not only a refuge but a dynamic force in cultivating resilience and unity.
“In response to the current crisis, this summer promises to be a rallying point for Jewish pride, a resolute stand against the hate we have seen, and a celebration of every aspect of who we are as a people,” said Joanna Wasel, board president.
As they begin preparing for summer, Rozen-Delman explained that the camp staff are gearing up to create an immersive experience that fosters a sense of pride, belonging, and love for all things Jewish. Through carefully curated activities and the camaraderie that comes from being part of a supportive community, campers will leave with not just memories of a fun-filled summer but also a strengthened sense of identity.
Kids working on a project at summer camp. (photo from Camp Hatikvah)
Camp Hatikvah also plans to intensify its Israel programming this summer in an effort to empower its campers with a more profound understanding of the Jewish state’s history and culture but, most importantly, its necessity. In a world where misinformation and delegitimization about Israel is rampant, Camp Hatikvah is determined to ensure that its campers and staff are equipped to advocate for the right of the Jewish people to live in peace and security in a homeland of their own.
“This summer, the grounds of Camp Hatikvah will echo with laughter, song, and the spirited expressions of Jewish and Israel pride,” said Rozen-Delman. “From the youngest to the oldest, everyone will be encouraged to stand tall, speak loud, and embrace every aspect of who they are.”
The importance of Camp Hatikvah extends beyond the traditional camp experience; it is a cornerstone for fostering resilience, unity, and an unapologetic celebration of one’s identity. Camp Hatikvah continues to play a pivotal role in creating a space where yet another generation of Jewish youth feel not only safe but truly at home.
Lifelong friends can be made at summer camp. (photo from Camp Kalsman)
Fun is in all that we do,” Rabbi Ilana Mills, director of URJ Camp Kalsman, told the Independent. “Our staff creates dynamic programming that lets campers laugh and play in a way that doesn’t happen anywhere else. Where else can you spend a day with your friends and your evening doing messy night with a slip-n-slide, water balloons, shaving cream, and more?”
Summer camp is a unique experience for children and young people, for campers and counselors. While fun is at the forefront of programming, so is learning. In the case of Jewish camps, there is the added element of Shabbat observance and other elements of Judaic practise and values.
Looking at the example of Camp Kalsman, which is located north of Seattle, one can see the breadth of activities summer camp can offer. A typical day at Kalsman includes singing, pool time, prayers, and activities that range from canoeing and kayaking on the lake, to climbing the camp’s tower and/or high ropes, to farming or gardening, to painting or having a cook-out.
The camp has chugim (electives), which usually run three to four days, and campers do a project during them, said Mills. “Campers will get to rank their choice from a list of options and we do our best to give campers their choices,” she said. Chugim includes such things as pottery, embroidery, hiking, water aerobics, yoga or soccer.
And older campers have “Sababa Time,” said Mill. “Sababa Time is an hour each day where older campers get to choose their own activities from a number of creative options that changes each day. Those might include volleyball, board games, outdoor cooking, or spa days.”
The camp schedule also carves out free time for campers.
“Life is so busy and camp is as well. Free time enables campers to choose what they need on any given day,” said Mills. “Whenever we have free time, we have options for campers to choose which option best fits their needs.Some campers need to get energy out, so they play basketball or go to the pool. Others may need down time, so they may read a book in the trees. Campers use free time to relax, recharge and have fun in a manner that best suits them. Recreation can be a time to re-create, to rejuvenate.”
Kids at Camp Kalsman get ready to take a canoe out onto the lake. (photo from Camp Kalsman)
In addition to obvious practices, such as the celebration of Shabbat and group tefillah (prayer), Kalsman tries to impart Jewish values and culture throughout activities.
“We design our programs to foster a holy community through connection between campers, between campers and staff and between campers and the larger community,” said Mills. “We believe connection is important on every level, so our cabins do cabin time every night to form connections and, every week, we have all-camp programs, where campers of different ages can get to know one another. When we eat, pray and sing together, we connect to the larger community.”
Camp Kalsman ends each night in siyum, “a special closing prayer where we pray Hashkiveinu and Shema using a special tune written just for Camp Kalsman,” said Mills.
When asked what summer camps in general – and Jewish camps specifically – can give kids that schools can’t, Mills shared a quote from a 10-year-old camper, who said, “Kalsman lets me take off all the masks I have to wear at school and really be me.”
“At Kalsman, our campers know that they are valued, honoured and supported for who they are,” said Mills. “Camp enables kids to be kids, to be free, and to have fun in a way that they don’t get anywhere else. It frees them of the burdens of school and competition and allows them an outlet to be part of a great community. Kalsman campers disconnect from their devices and connect to a larger, holy community. Campers learn independence and problem solving, they learn they can make mistakes and how to manage mistakes in a safe environment. Camp is the place where kids can explore who they want to be in the world.”
Filmmaker Sam Green will narrate live his documentary 32 Sounds, which is part of the Vancouver International Film Festival. (photo by Catalina Kulczar)
“There’s a thing in documentary filmmaking where, after you’ve done an interview with someone, you need to get what’s called room tone,” shares director, writer and editor Sam Green in his film 32 Sounds. “Room tone,” he explains, “is basically just sitting still for about 30 seconds or so and recording the sound of the room; this can help out a lot with editing later. I’ve been making films, which is kind of just marveling at people in the world, for 25 years now, and there’s always something odd and wonderful about this moment. An interview takes a person to other times and places and, now, they’re just here in the present, sitting with the sound of the room.”
Watching some of his interviewees, as they struggle or embrace sitting in silence for a few seconds, is one of the many highlights of Green’s latest documentary, 32 Sounds, which screens Oct. 5, 7 p.m., at the Vancouver Playhouse, as part of the Vancouver International Film Festival’s specialty program VIFF Live. New York-based Green will be in town to narrate the screening in-person, and audience members will be given headphones to wear, to help make the experience as immersive as possible.
The film premièred in January 2022 at the Sundance Film Festival. It exists in three forms: one as described above, but sometimes also with live music by composer JD Samson, who wrote original music for the film; another designed for an immersive at-home experience; and a theatre version without the in-person performance aspect. Watching the film at home without headphones was not ideal, but it was still enjoyable and mind-opening. There are parts where it would have added understanding and had greater impact to have heard something in only the left ear or only the right one.
32 Sounds is not just auditorily stunning but a visual pleasure, and intellectually stimulating, as well. Though there are explanations of how humans hear and how sound affects our bodies, the documentary is more philosophical than scientific. It presents concepts like the idea that all the sounds that have been made in the world should still be out there somewhere, “tiny ripples vibrating,” as contemplated by mathematician Charles Babbage, who is credited with having invented the computer, in the 1800s. If we had the right device, mused Babbage, we should be able to listen again to every joke, declaration of love or angry word ever uttered, narrates Green. “The air itself is one vast library, on whose pages are forever written all that man has ever said or woman whispered,” wrote Babbage in 1837.
In 2022, Green wrote: “I’ve made many documentary films over the years, and each one has changed me in some way, but none as much as the film I just recently finished called 32 Sounds. The film weaves together 32 different recordings as well as images, music by JD Samson, and voice-over to create a meditation on sound. Or, put a different way, the film uses sound to consider some of the basic features of our experience of being alive: time and time passing, loss, memory, connection with others, and the ephemeral beauty of the present moment.”
From the sound of a womb, to a cat purring, to fog horns, to a man who captures the sound of bombs landing nearby as he’s recording his music, Green masterfully takes viewers (listeners) on an emotional journey. We get to see how movie sound magic is made by foley artists like Joanna Fang. We meet sound and visual artist Christine Sun Kim, who talks about the deaf community, as well as hearing people’s perceptions of her work. Edgar Choueriri, professor of physics at Princeton, plays part of a tape he made for his future self when he was 11 years old. And we get to know a bit about composer and academic Annea Lockwood, 81 at the time of filming, who had been recording things like the sound of rivers for more than 50 years. Lockwood fundamentally changed how Green thinks about sound, especially a point she makes in the film: “There’s something I started writing about a year ago: listening with, as opposed to listening to,” she shares. “And it’s my sense that, if I’m standing here, I’m just one of many organisms that are listening with one another within this environment … we’re within it and we’re all listening together, as it were.”
32 Sounds has much to recommend it, including the chance to get up and dance, if you choose, when Green pumps up the volume on Sampson’s music, so you can “feel the sounds in your whole body.”
Accepting oneself
William Bartolo as Daniel, left, and Daniel Gabriel as his secret lover, Isaac, in a still from Cut, which is part of VIFF’s International Shorts: Nothing Comes Easy program. (image from VIFF)
Sound that you can feel in your whole body plays an important part in the short film Cut by Samuel Lucas Allen. In what may – or may not – be semi-autobiographical, Cut tells the story of Daniel, a high school student who tries to hide his Jewishness and his queerness. At key moments, the original score created by Sam Weiss thrums with tension, underscoring Daniel’s inner conflict.
Despite being somewhat heavy-handed – there is nothing subtle in this film, perhaps because it is only 19 minutes long – Cut is interesting, well-acted and put together. It opens with a Chassidic man holding a rooster, then shows Daniel cutting his hair, which falls onto a copy of Merchant of Venice, from which the teen will eventually have to perform, by memory, Shylock’s “If you prick us, do we not bleed?” speech. Daniel’s room has drawn images of men on his walls, in various poses, apparently his own work.
The film defines its three main elements: kapparot, as a “Jewish ritual where a chicken is blessed and slaughtered in the place of a person, to atone for their sins”; tefillin as a “pair of leather boxes containing portions of the Torah, worn by Jewish men in their morning prayers”; and cut, “a slang term for circumcision, the surgical removal of the foreskin, usually performed for religious reasons.”
It is mainly the Jewish aspect that Allen deals with in this work. Daniel is able to walk away from a gay slur, but not an antisemitic one, and, in the end, he is reconciled to himself and his Orthodox father by the mystical Chassidic man’s performing kapparot over him. We witness Daniel’s acceptance of being Jewish, but are left to wonder if he comes to accept his queerness, an aspect of his being that conflicts with Orthodox Judaism, though his soul would still be considered divine in religious circles, even if he engages in homosexual acts, which are prohibited by the Torah.
Cut is featured in VIFF’s International Shorts: Nothing Comes Easy, a program for viewers aged 18+, in which the films’ “protagonists discover that sorting out their lives can be much more difficult to achieve than they realized.” It screens Oct. 5, 6:45 p.m., and Oct. 7, 12:15 p.m., at International Village 8.
The Vancouver International Film Festival runs Sept. 28-Oct. 8. For the full schedule and tickets, visit viff.org.
Passover is coming. Its themes of freedom from oppression, the Exodus and Jewish identity stories are ready for the telling.
More Jewish people participate in Passover than many other holidays. A 2013 Pew Research study indicated that 70% of Americans who identified as Jewish attended a seder in the year, far more than any other Jewish practice, such as fasting on Yom Kippur, lighting Shabbat candles or attending synagogue services.
This statistic rings true for me, even though it’s a decade after the survey. I’ve hosted or attended many seders over the years where Jewish relatives or acquaintances turn up even if they’ve long since abandoned any other Jewish ritual. Some of these people hesitated to call themselves Jewish, even though they were raised Jewish or weren’t actively something else. How we identify is a complicated topic. It’s one I explore when I write a bio at the end of an article or introduce myself to someone at an event. As you might expect, the description provided by a writer is a shape-shifting event. I don’t advertise my religious identity in some publications. In others, I might mention where I graduated from university or what I write about.
I’ve told stories for a long time. Identifying as a writer came not long after. When the opportunity arose for me to go to the Young Writers’ Workshop at the University of Virginia as a teenager, at 13 or 14 years old, I was thrilled. I grew up in Virginia and Charlottesville wasn’t far away. My parents dropped me off. I stayed at the dorms. Mostly, I had a great experience and enjoyed myself. However, it was also the stage for some antisemitic moments that I haven’t forgotten.
I’d volunteered to set up chairs for a poetry reading, since a charismatic blond, older teen was also on the committee. Soon after arriving, he proceeded to tell antisemitic jokes, one after another. I silently kept setting out chairs as others crowded around, snickering. They snuck looks at me as I worked, ignoring him. That was the last time I chose the same committee as he did.
When this kind of bullying hate happens, oftentimes, the advice includes “Ignore it! His hate says more about him than it does about you.” That was little consolation for me. Despite the friends I made and all the learning experiences I had at that camp, it was also the source of several hate-filled moments. Later, I visited a camp friend at her home. I sat with her in the back of the family car. Her dad (much older than her mother) made languid conversation as he applauded Henry Ford’s union-busting and antisemitism. Then, he stopped to speak to “the boy” (a middle-aged, distinguished Black man) who managed his farmland. It was another moment I couldn’t erase from my memory, as my family believes strongly in unions and civil rights.
On Passover, we celebrate our identity and our journey, as if we, too, had been slaves in the land of Egypt. We use a story that shapes Jewish identity to help us coalesce into a grateful, free people. We discuss standing up for what we believe when it matters, the way Moses did.
All this came to mind when I took a research survey online. I agreed long ago to participate in occasional research surveys so that Canadian academics or government offices can learn how “ordinary Canadians” feel about things. This particular survey seemed to be about workplace psychological health. At the beginning, the authors gave their names, contact information and other details. By the end, lulled into complacency by harmless questions, I got to this question, which was something like: “We know that race is a cultural construct and isn’t genetic, but some people suffer on account of their race nevertheless. Please let us know how you identify for the purposes of this survey.”
What followed was a long list of categories, including “White, European descent” or “Middle Eastern, Arab” and various other categories, which you can probably imagine from your own survey experiences. I was stymied. In the past, I’d likely have ticked off “White, European descent” because, although my family has lived in the United States for the last 110 to 200 years, the places they came from were European. Yet, as anyone who has studied Jewish history knows, Europeans didn’t consider Jews to be in the same category as they were. Many centuries before the Second World War, Jews were being expelled from parts of Europe, murdered, raped and charged large extra taxes just to remain in some areas. The same can be said about much of the Middle East, where Jewish people have lived for millennia. Jews were heavily taxed, forced to wear identifying garments and had to cope with all sorts of other restrictions if they wanted to live as dhimmis, “under the protection of” Islam. Even in Virginia in the 1970s, Jews weren’t always considered “white.” We weren’t eligible for memberships in some social settings.
With current rising antisemitism, many slurs against Jews are conflated with issues surrounding Israel, our historic homeland. The Jewish population in Israel is in fact mixed, with Jews of all colours or races. Some Israelis are from families who have always lived in Israel. Also, yes, immigrants from all over the world have sought refuge by returning to Israel. Yet the antisemitic, race-driven comments online suggest that only white settlers from Europe “colonized” Israel.
That leaves a person with few options when the survey is about to “time out” online. One could just pretend and say “White/European” or “Indigenous” or “Middle Eastern,” “Asian,” “African,” or whatever one’s skin tone is. There’s often a “prefer not to say” category, which is a safe spot some choose. It offers anonymity, but it muddies the waters a bit for some research studies. This time, there was an “Other” category. Since the survey was aimed at an academic audience and anonymous, I checked off “Other” and in the box, I wrote Jewish, with a brief note that said, “In a time of rising antisemitism, please don’t leave us out.”
Was this the right thing to do? I won’t ever know. The Canadian Jewish population is very small. We’re only a little more than 1% of the population, based on recent Census numbers. Even so, if we are to tell our own story – the Exodus from Egypt, or the story of Jewish identity, we should have the chance to do so. Many people don’t feel safe enough to self-identify as Jewish. I certainly know the relief of blending in as “other.” Sometimes in risky surroundings, I feel safer with my nondescript last name and features that could be Greek or French but aren’t identifiably Jewish. We all have to decide when to tell our stories. Some seek freedom through erasing their ethnoreligious identities. Others relish the freedom that comes from proclaiming their “otherness” as Jewish.
I don’t have the answers here. I’m still wondering which survey boxes to tick off myself. In any case, have a wonderful Passover, with a delicious, meaningful seder where you can explore your identities, stories and life journey to freedom.
Joanne Seiffhas written regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.
Generations of kids have “the best summer of their lives” at camp. (photo from Camp Miriam)
“There’s no way we are going to a Jewish camp,” my kids declared with absolute resolve. Wait. What? Why??? They explained that they knew “enough” Jewish people and plenty of culturally Jewish things, so camp was not necessary. OK, I thought, that’s completely, totally and utterly crazy.
While we’ve been involved at Temple Sholom for years, speak Hebrew at home and celebrate the holidays, my kids are the only Jewish kids in their classes at public school. They are often told they don’t look Jewish, let alone Sephardi. Whatever that means – there’s a huge span between Barbra Streisand and Ofra Haza. They weren’t excited about their identity, but begrudgingly went along with being Jewish. It was the equivalent of cultural, ethnic and faith feet dragging.
My disappointment couldn’t be missed because I literally said, “I’m so disappointed to hear you say that.” I thought guilt might move them – a powerful tool of every Jewish mother. They apologized. Yes. I was moving the needle. And then, they immediately asked me if they could go to a Christian horse camp. Nope. I failed, while concurrently being mortified. To be clear, I wasn’t horrified of considering a different faith camp, but because they are wildly allergic to horses. Who wants to be the parent that gets a phone call that their kids can’t handle equines? Not me. Too embarrassing.
Moreover, it was a complete reversal of my experience. I begged my parents to send me to a Jewish camp. I started going from the age of 10, eventually visiting Israel and managing to get a coveted staff position. My camp time was the most incredible and defining experience of my youth. I wished, hoped and prayed for my kids to have the same experience. They had shut down the idea, but before I wrote them off as blasphemers, I decided to let it sit and cook in their minds like a delicious shakshuka.
(photo from Camp Miriam)
For a couple of months, they pondered a tough year of COVID-19 shutting down so much of life – and the idea of being away for several weeks with a lot of independence became very appealing. They finally agreed to “let me send them” to Camp Miriam, which was very similar to the camp I went to back east. They diligently packed, were welcomed by friends at registration, got on the bus and did not look back. I got two postcards. The first informed me that they hadn’t been eaten by wild island dogs, and the second told me they were having the best summer of their lives.
The kids came back transformed both physically and figuratively. They both grew half a foot, and something in their psyche profoundly shifted. They loved, I do mean loved, all things Jewish because of Camp Miriam. They had a magical summer that every parent wishes their kid to have. A tight group of friends, a deep respect for their beloved staff and a passion for the programming. Frankly, they wouldn’t zip it about how much they adored Camp Miriam.
They bragged about doing avodah (work), one choosing garbage duty and the other cleaning the sherutim (bathrooms). Umm … what happened? I couldn’t get them to make their beds at home, and they were doing legitimate work at camp? It struck me. Camp Miriam had instilled a profound sense of pride. For weeks, and I do mean weeks, they would prompt a conversation with, “At Camp Miriam….” Some of their most profound moments were having Shabbat at the Point, feeling a deep connection of chevra (community) and telling me they felt understood for the first time. They didn’t have to explain themselves, and that was mind-blowing.
(photo from Camp Miriam)
Going to Camp Miriam coalesced for my kids a sense of identity; they felt seen and heard, so could go deep into what this meant. We were able to have a shared generational experience, which was pretty awesome, considering my kids think electricity was barely invented when I was a kid. I corrected them and explained that the cutting-edge technology of faxing existed when I was a child.
Last week, I overheard them at Sunday Temple Sholom school bragging that Camp Miriam was the best camp ever. And there it is. My kids not only needed Jewish camp, but they also desperately wanted to be there. I feel utterly indebted to Camp Miriam for giving my kids such a brilliant and rich Jewish experience and, although I couldn’t say it to their faces, I was satisfied thinking, “Yes! In your faces. You suck. I was soooooo right about everything, and you were so unequivocally wrong.” Also, now I can breathe easy, knowing they can’t wait to go back to Camp Miriam and build a lifetime of memories and friendships.
Summer camp helps foster grit, creating space for kids to develop independence and author their own stories. (photo from URJ Camp Kalsman)
As a parent of three, I know how hard it is to balance the overwhelming desire to make sure my kids “have it all” – diverse extracurricular activities, best schools, quality family time, etc. – and, at the same time, to know when to let go (and actually do it!) so they can experience the power of paving their own way. Skinned knees, bruised egos, broken hearts and all.
As a summer camp director, I also know that parents like me are not alone. In fact, there is a whole army of incredibly kind and passionate young adult role models, often dressed up in silly costumes, ready to be my partner in this “gritty journey” of adolescence and the teenage years.
Ask anyone who grew up at overnight summer camp – Jewish or otherwise – and most will tell you it felt like their second home. At Camp Kalsman, where my children and I have spent the past six years, we welcome campers and staff members “home” each summer. But what does this really mean and why is this important for fostering grit in our kids and teens?
I’d argue that home, a place of true belonging, is prime real estate for failure, learning and growth – home is where grit is born. Often, when we think of home we think of being safe and protected, perhaps shielded from the real world. I would argue that home is more of a safety net, giving a child the reassurance that not only is failure OK but that, when they do ultimately fail at something, we’ll be there to catch them and help them bounce back, stronger and more resilient.
What are the top three reasons why you, as a parent, guardian or loving adult, need summer camp, too?
1. Creating space to deepen connection. I’m going to say something that might make some people uncomfortable – your kids need a break from you just as much as you need one from them. Camp gives you the chance to create that space, knowing that you have a trusted partner to create that same safety net for your child. Absence makes the heart grow fonder is a cliché and it’s also a deeply true statement. By creating (physical) space for a finite period of time, your child has the chance to broaden their perspective, test everything you’ve taught them, try something on their own and learn from other trusted adults. When a camper has a temporary moment of sadness at camp (sometimes referred to as homesickness), that feeling is validated – “how wonderful is it that you have such great folks at home who love you, believe you can do this and know you will be safe and cared for at camp?” Camp simultaneously builds a sense of self separate from the family unit and strengthens the roots of that family tree from afar.
(photo from Camp Kalsman)
2. Declaration of independence. How often do you wish your kid would make their own lunch for school, make their bed without you asking, pick up those socks that have been next to the couch for what seems like days? At camp, where “nagging” parents are replaced with super-cool counselors who are the perfect combination of Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke from Mary Poppins, kids learn a sense of communal responsibility, pride in keeping their space clean, and come to understand how their action (or inaction) can have ripple effects on those around them. At the beginning of the summer, they will have contributed to creating a cabin covenant (at Camp Kalsman, we use the Hebrew term brit kehillah), a shared understanding, co-created by their bunkmates and counselors, about how they will live and play together for the camp session. Campers have to navigate social situations without adult or teacher intervention (those cool counselors are also trained in conflict-resolution and will help out, of course). The ownership children and teens feel about their time at camp helps foster confidence and self-awareness and helps calibrate their inner moral compass for when they return home and to school.
3. Sharing the stories. It may happen in the car-ride home, over that first “real-world” meal after so many days of camp food, or a few days after they get home and have had time to process, but your child might just freely and willingly tell you stories about the summer. It won’t be like their one-word answer when you ask about school. With their new-found independence and confidence (see #2!), they might tell you about the friends they made, the new food they tried, the counselor they loved, maybe even the silly dance they made up. And, after you’ve listened intently, controlling your need to ask 1,000 follow-up questions, and instead basking in their joy and nostalgia, you’ll say, “Wow, that sounds like one incredible summer!” You will have given your child the gift of summer camp, and they will have given you the gift of sharing in their joy and confidence and gratitude.
While there are many, many more reasons that we all need summers at camp (a second home), the combination of creating space, developing independence and authoring their own stories is, at its core, the secret sauce of raising a gritty and resilient generation of children, teens and parents!
Rabbi Ilana Mills is camp director, URJ Camp Kalsman. If you are interested in learning more about the camp, visit campkalsman.org or contact Rabbi Ilana at imills@urj.org.
Making friends and challenging oneself are just two of the things kids love about summer camp. (photo from Camp Solomon Schechter)
Jewish camping can be an integral part of children’s lives and their development. Involving them in Jewish summer camps leads to brighter Jewish futures and a stronger Jewish community as a whole. Camp helps Jewish youth feel proud of their heritage and can lead to stronger friendships and relationships, campers finding their true passions, and discovering the joy in Jewish life. We spoke to several Camp Solomon Schechter campers about what camp means to them and how it’s made an impact on their lives.
Ruby Lipsky (1st year): “[Camp friends are special] because you can just do whatever you want with them and they make you feel like [you’re] home and, if you’re sad, they help you and it’s just nice to have somebody here to be with you. You’re living with some new people in your cabin that you’ve never met before and I made very good friends with them because I treated them nicely. If you treat them how you want to be treated, then it just makes camp so much more fun.”
Izzy Drazin (2nd year): “You’re just welcome to anything you want to do. I feel like I’ve been more excited whenever I come to camp. Instantly something clicks in my head to be happy, have fun, try new things. I want to bring back some of the energy that I have here, some of the ruach, happiness, and this new sense of self.”
Orli Kalman (7th year): “Out of camp I have learned so many new values of kindness and working with others. It’s a really great opportunity because you’re constantly surrounded by people and sometimes that’s a lot, but you deal with it and learn how to prioritize yourself and take time for yourself when you need it. Then, you can go back and make friendships and value the time that you get to spend with others.”
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“My friendships at camp are the most important thing to me and that is one of the main reasons that I come back to camp. I get to see the same people every year that I love and that I get to grow with and learn more about every summer. We have so many similarities but at the same time so many differences, I’m constantly learning new things about my friends. It’s great that we are able to start right back where we left off and just keep growing these friendships and making them stronger.”
(photo from Camp Solomon Schechter)
Bella Robinson (8th year): “At home, I have a few Jewish friends but going to camp, where everyone is Jewish, is such a magical thing. All the aspects of my life tie into me being Jewish and, at home, I find that I may not relate to my other non-Jewish friends because they don’t share some of the same aspects of their culture or religion or keeping Shabbat and they may not know about some of the traditions I keep close to my heart. When I’m at camp, constantly practising Judaism and I’m with all my Jewish friends, those friendships are just so much stronger than any other ones at home.”
Josh Kittay (15th year, counselor): “The biggest thing about camp that makes it so special is those memories for me. I love to tell stories and, when I go home, I get to tell all my family and friends those stories that happened, whether it’s your new friend you made or something really funny you did on the aqua park or an amazing shot you made on the basketball court. You get to really find out who you are here and you get to be that person you want to be, whether you’re extra goofy here or you wanna change a little bit who you see yourself as. You get to do that here ’cause no one’s gonna judge you.”
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“It’s so important to be somewhere that is so inclusive. We are judged as a Jewish community, we are judged for just being Jewish, and being able to not only be Jewish here with tons of other Jews … you also get to be how you want to be and you better come up with your own story about who you wanna become. You don’t have to go along with the rules, go along with the set laws of what we call the ‘real world.’ You get to be who you wanna be, you get to choose who that person is. What we like to say is you get to try on new clothes. If you wanna become someone else, go for it. This is the place where no one is gonna judge you, everyone wants to do the same thing, so find out who you are.”
One of the four additional questions that the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs suggests we ask ourselves this Passover is: As we solemnly intone “Next year in Jerusalem,” how can we express the significance of the land of Israel in our Jewish Canadian identity? (photo by IRR Photography)
Traditional celebrations of recent Passover seasons were certainly curtailed, and even canceled, by the pandemic. For those of us fortunate enough to have emerged from COVID-19 with our families intact, we now – finally – will have an opportunity to come together to celebrate the holiday as it should be – among extended family and old friends.
The limits placed on us by the pandemic, however, have not curtailed the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs’ work. Ensuring increased COVID funding for frontline charitable organizations helping the elderly, ill and all others among our most vulnerable was paramount in our advocacy to governments at all levels. Supplemental funds are never quite sufficient, but these extra funds were realized in federation agencies across the country.
The disturbing surge in antisemitism that came with the pandemic became another focus of our work. Last summer, as a founding member of the Canadian Coalition to Combat Online Hate, we organized the federal government-|sponsored Emergency Summit on Antisemitism that brought together government, media, academic and other experts in combating online hate that so often leads to real-life violence.
Connected to pervasive hate online is spreading distortion and even outright denial of the Holocaust. A poll commissioned by the Canadian charity Liberation75 showed that, of 3,600 students in grades 6 to 12, a shocking 33% were either uncertain about the Holocaust, thought that the death toll was exaggerated or questioned whether the Holocaust even happened. In Ontario’s largest school board – and in others from the West to the Maritimes – incidents of antisemitism have begun to be reported almost weekly.
This kind of disturbing trend requires focused, strategic action. CIJA has received a grant to leverage the expertise of historians, teachers and Jewish scholars to create a curriculum for Ontario middle-school students that will teach them about the Holocaust – and about modern-day antisemitism. Most recently, CIJA has urged support for MP Kevin Waugh’s private member’s bill that proposes Canada follow the example of other countries – including France and Germany – to make Holocaust denial an offence under Canada’s Criminal Code.
To spur discussion about what such legislation could do, CIJA hosted a national webinar about reasons to criminalize Holocaust denial, the challenges posed, and what we can learn from jurisdictions where similar laws have been enacted. With experts from Canada, France and Israel espousing various perspectives, the discussion was informed, civil and productive.
Discussion. Now that’s an area where Jews tend to feel both comfortable and motivated. And that brings me to the Pesach celebration awaiting us this year. Of course, we will delight in visits with our loved ones. Some of us will see children or grandchildren, newly arrived or grown significantly since our last Passover seder together. Many will have questions – not only the traditional four we ask annually, harking back to our historic connections to Israel, but also questions about being Jewish today, in Canada.
We think Jews in communities large and small have lots to talk about, and we want to facilitate engaged, thoughtful discussions responding to four more questions we’ve proposed for this Passover. We propose, this Passover seder, that Jewish families and friends think about the issues CIJA, as the advocacy agent of Jewish federations across Canada, has been prioritizing.
More background is available, along with suggested responses, at cija.ca/4morequestions, but here are the questions:
Looking at increased denial and distortion of the Holocaust, our most recent enslavement, how can we stop Holocaust denial and distortion? In the realm of online hate and antisemitism, we remember numerous historic efforts to destroy the Jewish people. What can Canadians do to combat online hate and antisemitism today? Turning to community security, as a once-enslaved people, we ask, what does a safe space for Jewish Canadians look like? And, as we solemnly intone “Next year in Jerusalem,” how can we express the significance of the land of Israel in our Jewish Canadian identity?
That’s a lot. But that’s what we are up against, even living in Canada, one of the safest places for Jews anywhere.
As we gather this year, whether part of a small family, an extended clan of young and old, or among friends, let us celebrate the joy of our survival and how, together, we can work to shape our future.
May your Passover be a peaceful, thoughtful, and happy one. Chag Pesach sameach!
Judy Zelikovitzis vice-president, University and Local Partner Services, at CIJA, the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs.
