Features
The Zylbermans look back on 25 years of having come to Winnipeg from Argentina
By BERNIE BELLAN While there has been a large influx of Jewish immigrants into Winnipeg over the past 25 years, perhaps one of the most interesting stories of how one family made the decision to come here is the Zylberman family’s – when one learns how much their decision to come here was totally a matter of chance.
Mauricio and Marta Zylberman, along with their three children: Ariel, Leandro, and Melina, arrived here in 1997 – during one of the worst snow storms in Winnipeg history, and just in time for what became the “flood of the century.”
But how the Zylbermans ended up in Canada – and a city about which they knew almost nothing at the time, is quite a fascinating tale. Although their decision to come here was taken somewhat arbitrarily, the Zylbermans quickly established strong roots in the community and have been deeply involved not only in Jewish life, but many other aspects of life in Winnipeg as well.
The story begins with a turbulent period in Argentina’s history, when the economy was cratering and Argentina was about to enter into a period that is now referred to as the “Argentine Great Depression,” which lasted from 1998-2002. Prior to that period Argentina’s economy had stagnated severely. Not only that, Buenos Aires, which is where the Zylbermans lived, had become a dangerous place where, as Mauricio Zylberman explains, the “corruption” and crime were terrible.
He says that every night, when he would come home from work, he “would have to drive around the block to make sure no one was waiting for me before I would get into my house.”
And yet, as Marta Zylberman describes their situation at the time, “we were very successful.” Their wanting to leave Argentina, she observes, “wasn’t about money. We were trying to get a better future for our kids,” she notes.
I asked them what they did in Argentina. Marta says she was a “stay at home mom and Mauricio was an accountant.”
The two boys were teenagers in 1997; Ariel was 16, Leandro was 14, and Melina was 11. Mauricio and Marta were themselves already in their 40s, so picking up and starting over in a new country – without even knowing where they might go, was definitely a challenge not for the faint of heart.
Their first choice was to get a green card for the United States, but “we couldn’t get it,” Marta says.
So, as she notes, in 1996 Marta decided to contact three different embassies: the Canadian, the Australian, and the New Zealand embassies and, as she puts it, “whoever is going to give us an answer, we’re going to go for it.”
“Canada and New Zealand were very welcoming,” Marta says, but “not the same situation with Australia.”
Eventually the Zylbermans were invited to an interview at the Canadian embassy.
I asked Marta and Mauricio whether they were even thinking about coming to Winnipeg at that time? “Was Winnipeg even on your map?” I asked them.
“No,” Marta answers. “We didn’t even know about Winnipeg.” (What eventually would turn into a major initiative undertaken by the Winnipeg Jewish Community Council – later to become the Winnipeg Jewish Federation, to attract Argentineans to Winnipeg had not yet begun.)
“When we put in the application and we were asked where we wanted to go, we said Toronto or Ottawa,” Marta says.
The Zylbermans could have gone anywhere they wanted in Canada because they were approved for visas but, at the end of their interview at the Canadian embassy, Marta says that the woman who was conducting the interview showed them some flyers that she thought might help them in their decision-making process.
According to Marta, that woman said, “You’re not going for an exploratory visit anywhere. But because you are Jewish and you have teenagers, and you are a family of five, why don’t you take these flyers that are related to the Jewish community in Winnipeg, so if you decide to change your mind and you want to go to Winnipeg (instead of Toronto or Ottawa), just let us know.”
The Zylbermans looked at those flyers. Marta notes that the flyers talked about how many restaurants there were in Winnipeg per capita, how many lakes were nearby – but there wasn’t anything about “the temperature” in Winnipeg, and there certainly wasn’t any mention of blizzards !
Mauricio picks up the story at that point, saying that when they got back from the embassy, he was intrigued at the notion of moving to a city with an established Jewish community, one that the individual at the embassy described in glowing terms. That very same day, he says, he sent a fax to the Winnipeg Jewish Community Council (noting that this was before the advent of the internet), expressing an interest in coming to Winnipeg.
Apparently that fax was fielded by Evelyn Hecht, who was the Community Relations Director for the WJCC at the time, and within a couple of hours Mauricio said he received a fax back from someone in the Manitoba government asking how could they help with the Zylbermans settling in Winnipeg.
Mauricio says that it was “astonishing to have an answer back within a couple of hours. I said to Marta, ‘If these people are giving an answer back in a couple of hours, that’s the place we should go’.”
Mauricio points out that the Provincial Nominee Program, which was begun by former Premier Gary Filmon, had not yet been established. It was that program, along with the concerted efforts of individuals such as Evelyn Hecht and Bob Freedman, who was executive director of the WJCC, along with the late Larry Hurtig, a Past President of the WJCC, and the aforementioned Gary Filmon – who all saw the potential benefit of trying to attract Argentinean Jews to Winnipeg that led to a largescale immigration to Winnipeg at the end of the 1990s and in the first decade of this century..
As Mauricio points out, however, when the Zylbermans arrived in Winnipeg that fateful day in April 1997, “there were only three other Jewish Argentinean families that had moved within recent years to Winnipeg.” (Eventually the number of Jewish families or individuals to arrive here from Argentina grew substantially, to the point where the figure of 400 individuals was bandied about as the number of Argentinean Jews who had immigrated to Winnipeg. However, as Mauricio acknowledged during our conversation, many of those individuals used Winnipeg as a stepping stone to eventually relocating elsewhere in Canada. It’s difficult to know exactly how many Argentinean Jews have remained in Winnipeg, but according to the 2016 Census there were only 475 individuals of Argentinean descent living in Manitoba that year. It’s possible that the majority were Jewish, but the fact is that, like most questions revolving around how many Jews actually live in Winnipeg, we really don’t know the answer.)
As I already noted, the Zylbermans didn’t have a clue what was in store for them as far as Winnipeg weather was concerned. For anyone reading this who was here at the time, memories of the blizzard that began on April 5 of that year, and which saw a total of 48 centimetres of snow fall in a 24-hour period are probably still quite vivid (along with the memories of a good part of southern Manitoba turning into one vast lake).
Yet, even before that blizzard began to hit, Winnipeg was already under a heavy blanket of snow. As their plane began its descent into Winnipeg, Marta says “all they could see was white.” She turned to Mauricio and said, “Omigod – what are we doing here?”
But, when the Zylbermans saw the large troupe that had turned out to greet them upon their arrival here, including Evelyn Hecht, along with Roberta Hurtig (who, along with husband Larry, Marta described as their “Winnipeg family”), as well as a representative from Toronto for JIAS (the Jewish Immigration Aid Service), they felt quite relieved.
Another individual who provided invaluable help to the Zylbermans was Gustavo Rymberg, who was a graphic designer working for the YMHA at the time, and who had arrived in Winnipeg just a few months prior to the Zylbermans’ arrival. Gustavo has gone on to forge a successful career working for other Jewish federations in Canada, first in Ottawa, and more recently in Hamilton, where he is now executive director of the Hamilton Jewish Federation.
Marta acknowledges how hospitable members of the Jewish community were when the family first arrived in Winnipeg. “We were invited to so many houses, but it was exhausting,” she says.
“We had to translate in our minds what they were saying – and then put into English what to answer.” (I remarked though that both Marta’s and Mauricio’s English is now quite good.)
It wasn’t only members of the Jewish community who rolled out the welcome mat, Marta adds. She recalls how friendly and helpful many individuals were to her when the Zylbermans first arrived here and she was shopping for such things as winter boots – even for a car.
And, despite the snowstorm that greeted the Zylbermans soon after their arrival, according to Marta, their biggest problem wasn’t getting used to the snow, “the fateful moment was when Mauricio realized that he wasn’t recognized as a CGA here,” which is what he was in Argentina.
I asked the Zylbermans whether they didn’t know that Mauricio would not be able to practice as an accountant before they got here?
“No, we didn’t know anything,” Marta answers.
As Mauricio adds, when they visited the Canadian embassy in Buenos Aires, they were told “the number one thing we need in Canada is accountants.”
Unfortunately, despite Mauricio being fully credentialed as an accountant in Argentina, and having had years of experience practicing the profession there, upon their arrival here he was told “you’re not certified here. Become certified – and you’re good to go.”
Mauricio explains that prior to coming to Canada he had contacted the California body responsible for certifying accountants in that state (and remember – the Zylbermans’ first choice was to emigrate to the US, preferably California) and was told that all he needed to do was take the qualifying exam in that state in order to be licensed as a Certified Accountant. Mauricio assumed that the same rule would apply in Canada, hence his surprise and disappointment at finding out that wasn’t the case here.
As a result, Mauricio says he spent almost four years taking the courses required to be certified as an accountant in Manitoba. He did find work related to his training, he says, but for four years Mauricio explains that he would work from 9-5, then head to Red River College to take accountancy courses in the evening. Eventually he completed the required courses and was certified again as a Certified General Accountant.
As things turned out, the relocation of the Zylberman family to Winnipeg proved fruitful for every member of the family. Ariel, Leandro and Melina went on to spend many years dancing with the Chai Folk Ensemble. Marta and Mauricio became part of the Chai family as a result and made many lifelong friends.
Both Marta and Mauricio have also been heavily involved with the Israeli pavilion at Folklorama. It was there that they met Richard Swyston, Mauricio notes, who has also been a longtime volunteer at the Israeli pavilion. The Zylbermans now count Richard and Gemma Swyston among their friends.
Ariel and Leandro attended Kelvin High School upon their arrival in Winnipeg, and both went on to university here. Ariel was actually a Rhodes Scholar and ended up obtaining a PhD in Philosophy. (I noted that he’s a Doctor of Philosophy who is a real “Doctor of Philosophy”.)
Marta recalls how impressive an achievement Ariel’s becoming a Rhodes Scholar was: “Here he was, not only an immigrant, but a Jewish guy,” she remarks.
Marta says though that unfortunately, Ariel was unable to find work in Winnipeg and, as a result, he is now teaching in the US.
Leandro and Melina, however, have remained in Winnipeg, where Leandro works as a lawyer and Melina as a doctor (psychiatrist).
Marta has also gone on to forge a career in real estate, but she waited until she felt comfortable enough with her English to pursue that career, she says.
At the end of our conversation, I said to Marta and Mauricio what a nice gesture it is for them to thank the Jewish community for welcoming them here. (As a matter of fact, the Zylbermans also thanked the community within the pages of this paper 15 years ago, upon the 10th anniversary of their having arrived here.) I noted though that, considering the Zylbermans’ arrival in Winnipeg coincided with what became the “flood of the century” and, with all the snow we’ve had this winter, I hoped that reminding readers of what we went through 25 years ago wasn’t going to cast some sort of jinx on us – and lead to yet another weather catastrophe.
The Zylbermans, however, insist that for all the harping that people do on the weather here, this is one fabulous city – and despite how arbitrary their decision to come here may have been, it is one that they and their children will always think of as the best decision they could ever have made.
Features
Are Niche and Unconventional Relationships Monopolizing the Dating World?
The question assumes a battle being waged and lost. It assumes that something fringe has crept into the center and pushed everything else aside. But the dating world has never operated as a single system with uniform rules. People have always sorted themselves according to preference, circumstance, and opportunity. What has changed is the visibility of that sorting and the tools available to execute it.
Online dating generated $10.28 billion globally in 2024. By 2033, projections put that figure at $19.33 billion. A market of that size does not serve one type of person or one type of relationship. It serves demand, and demand has always been fragmented. The apps and platforms we see now simply make that fragmentation visible in ways that provoke commentary.
Relationship Preferences
Niche dating platforms now account for nearly 30 percent of the online dating market, and projections suggest they could hold 42 percent of market share by 2028. This growth reflects how people are sorting themselves into categories that fit their actual lives.
Some want a sugar relationship, others seek partners within specific religious or cultural groups, and still others look for connections based on hobbies or lifestyle choices. The old model of casting a wide net has given way to something more targeted.
A YouGov poll found 55 percent of Americans prefer complete monogamy, while 34 percent describe their ideal relationship as something other than monogamous. About 21 percent of unmarried Americans have tried consensual non-monogamy at some point. These numbers do not suggest a takeover. They suggest a population with varied preferences now has platforms that accommodate those preferences openly rather than forcing everyone into the same structure.
The Numbers Tell a Different Story
Polyamory and consensual non-monogamy receive substantial attention in media coverage and on social platforms. The actual practice rate sits between 4% and 5% of the American population. That figure has remained relatively stable even as public awareness has increased. Being aware of something and participating in it are separate behaviors.
A 2020 YouGov poll reported that 43% of millennials describe their ideal relationship as non-monogamous. Ideals and actions do not always align. People answer surveys about what sounds appealing in theory. They then make decisions based on their specific circumstances, available partners, and emotional capacity. The gap between stated preference and lived reality is substantial.
Where Young People Are Looking
Gen Z accounts for more than 50% of Hinge users. According to a 2025 survey by The Knot, over 50% of engaged couples met through dating apps. These platforms have become primary infrastructure for forming relationships. They are not replacing traditional dating; they are the context in which traditional dating now occurs.
Younger users encounter more relationship styles on these platforms because the platforms allow for it. Someone seeking a conventional monogamous partnership will still find that option readily available. The presence of other options does not eliminate this possibility. It adds to the menu.
Monopoly Implies Exclusion
The framing of the original question suggests that niche relationships might be crowding out mainstream ones. Monopoly means one entity controls a market to the exclusion of competitors. Nothing in the current data supports that characterization.
Mainstream dating apps serve millions of users seeking conventional relationships. These apps have added features to accommodate other preferences, but their core user base remains people looking for monogamous partnerships. The addition of new categories does not subtract from existing ones. Someone filtering for a specific religion or hobby does not prevent another person from using the same platform without those filters.
What Actually Changed
Two things happened. First, apps built segmentation into their business models because segmentation increases user satisfaction. People find what they want faster when they can specify their preferences. Second, social acceptance expanded for certain relationship types that previously operated in private or faced stigma.
Neither of these developments amounts to a monopoly. They amount to market differentiation and cultural acknowledgment. A person seeking a sugar arrangement and a person seeking marriage can both use apps built for their respective purposes. They are not competing for the same resources.
The Perception Problem
Media coverage tends toward novelty. A story about millions of people using apps to find conventional relationships does not generate engagement. A story about unconventional relationship types generates clicks, comments, and shares. This creates a perception gap between how often something is discussed and how often it actually occurs.
The 4% to 5% practicing polyamory receive disproportionate coverage relative to the 55% who prefer complete monogamy. The coverage is not wrong, but it creates an impression of prevalence that exceeds reality.
Where This Leaves Us
Niche relationships are not monopolizing dating. They are becoming more visible and more accommodated by platforms that benefit from serving specific needs. The majority of people seeking relationships still want conventional arrangements, and they still find them through the same channels.
The dating world is larger than it was before. It contains more explicit options. It allows people to state preferences that once required inference or luck. None of this constitutes a takeover. It constitutes an expansion. The space for one type of relationship did not shrink to make room for another. The total space grew.
Features
Matthew Lazar doing his part to help keep Israelis safe in a time of war
By MYRON LOVE It is well known – or at least it should be – that while Israel puts a high value of protecting the lives of its citizens, the Jewish state’s Islamic enemies celebrate death. The single most glaring difference between the opposing sides can be seen in the differing approach to building bomb shelters to protect their populations.
Whereas Hamas and Hezbollah have invested untold billions of dollars over the past 20 years in building underground tunnels to protect their fighters while leaving their “civilian” populations exposed to Israeli bombs, not only has Israel built a highly sophisticated anti-missile system but also the leadership has invested heavily in making sure that most Israelis have access to bomb shelters – wherever they are – in war time.
While Israel’s bomb shelter program is comprehensive, there are still gaps – gaps which Dr. Matthew Lazar is doing his bit to help reduce.
The Winnipeg born-and raised pediatrician -who is most likely best known to readers as a former mohel – is the president of Project Life Initiatives – the Canadian branch of Israel-based Operation Lifeshield whose mission is to provide bomb shelters for threatened Israeli communities.
Lazar actually got in on the ground floor – so to speak. It was a cousin of his, Rabbi Shmuel Bowman, Operation Lifeshield’s executive director, who – in 2006 – founded the organization.
“Shmuel was one of a small group of American olim and Israelis who were visiting the Galilee during the second Lebanon war in 2006 and found themselves under rocket attack – along with thousands of others – with no place to go,” recounts Lazar, who has two daughters living in Israel. “They decided to take action. I was one of the people Shmuel approached to become an Operation Lifeshield volunteer.
Since the founding of Lifeshield, Lazar reports, over 1,000 shelters have been deployed in Israel. The number of new shelter orders since October 7, 2023 is 149.
He further notes that while the largest share of Operation Lifeshield’s funding comes from American donors, there has been good support for the organization across Canada as well.
One of the major donors in Winnipeg is the Christian Zionist organization, Christian Friends of Israel (FOI) Canada which, in September, as part of its second annual “Stand With Israel Support” evening – presented Lazar and Operation Lifeshield with a cheque for $30,000 toward construction of a bomb shelter for the Yasmin kindergarten in the Binyamina Regional Council in Northern Israel.
Lazar reports that to date the total number of shelters donated by Friends of Israel Gospel Ministry (globally) is over 100.
Lazar notes that the head office for Project Life Initiatives is – not surprisingly – in Toronto. “We communicate by telephone, text and Zoom,” he says.
He observes that – as he is still a full time pediatrician – he isn’t able to visit Israel nearly as often as he would like to. He manages to go every couple of years and always makes a point of visiting some of Operation Lifeshield’s projects.
(He adds that his wife, Nola, gets to Israel two or three times a year – not only to visit family, but also in her role as president of Mercaz Canada – the Canadian Conservative movement’s Zionist arm.)
“This is something I have been able to do to help safeguard Israelis,” Lazar says of his work for Operation Lifeshield. “This is a wonderful thing we are doing. I am glad to be of help. ”
Features
Patterns of Erasure: Genocide in Nazi Europe and Canada
By LIRON FYNE When we think of the word genocide, our minds often jump to the Holocaust, the mass-scale, systemic government-led murder of six million Jews by Nazi Germany during the Second World War, whose unprecedented scale and methods led to the very term ‘genocide’ being coined. On January 27th, 2026, we will bow our heads for International Holocaust Remembrance Day, the 80th year of remembrance.
Less frequently do we connect genocidal intent to the campaign against Indigenous peoples in Canada; the forced displacement, cultural destruction, and systematic killing that sought to erase Indigenous peoples. The genocide conducted by the Nazis and the genocidal intent of the Canadian government, though each unique in scale, motive, and implementation, share many conceptual similarities. Both were driven by ideologies of racial superiority, executed through governmental precision, and justified by the perpetrators as a moral mission.
At their core rests the concept of dehumanization. In Nazi Germany, Jews were viewed as subhuman, contaminated, and a threat to the ‘Aryan’ race. In Canada, Indigenous peoples were represented as obstacles to ‘progress’ and seen as hurdles to a Christian, Eurocentric nation. These ideas, this dehumanization, turned human beings into problems to be solved. Adolf Hitler called it the ‘Jewish question,’ leading to an official policy in 1942 called the ‘Final Solution to the Jewish Question,’ whereas Canadian officials called it the ‘Indian problem.’ The language is similar, a belief that one group’s existence endangers the destiny of another. The methods of extermination differed in practice and outcome, but the language of intent resembles one another.
The Holocaust’s concentration camps and carefully engineered gas chambers were designed for efficient, industrial-scale killing, resulting in mass murder. The well-organized plan of systematic degradation, deadly riots, brutal camp conditions, and designated killing centres were only a few of the ways the Nazis worked to eliminate the Jews. The Canadian government’s weapons were policy, assimilation and abandonment. Such as the Indian Act, reserves, and residential schools, which were all meant to ‘kill the Indian in the child,’ cutting generations off from their languages, families, and cultures. Thousands of Indigenous children died in residential schools, buried in unmarked graves near schools that called themselves places of learning. Both systems were backed by either religion or ideology; Nazi ideology brought together racist eugenic policies and virulent antisemitism, while Canada’s genocidal intent was supported by Christian Protestantism claiming to save Indigenous souls by erasing their heritage.
The Holocaust was a six-year campaign of complete industrialized extermination, mass murder with a mechanized intent, on a scale that remains historically unique. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission describes Canada’s indigenous genocide as a cultural one that unfolded over centuries through assimilation and the destruction of indigenous languages and identities. The Holocaust ended with the liberation of the camps and a global recognition of the atrocities committed. However, the generational trauma and dehumanization of antisemitism carry on. For Indigenous peoples in Canada, the effects of the genocidal intent continue to this day, visible in displacement, poverty, and intergenerational trauma. While these histories differ in form and timeline, both are rooted in dehumanization and the belief that some lives are worth less than others.
A disturbing similarity lies in the aftermath: silence and denial. The Holocaust forced the world to confront the atrocity with the vow of ‘Never Again,’ which has now been unearthed and reformed as ‘Never Again is Now,’ after the October 7th, 2023, massacre by Hamas. The largest massacre of Jewish people since the Holocaust, and the denial of the atrocities committed on October 7th, highlight the same Holocaust denial we see rising around the world. In Canada, for decades, the genocidal intent was hidden behind narratives of kindness and social progress. Only in recent years, through survivor testimony for the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and the discovery of unmarked graves, has the truth gained recognition. But acknowledgment without justice risks repeating the same patterns of erasure.
Comparing these atrocities committed is not about comparing pain or scale; it is about understanding the shared systems that enabled them. Both demonstrate how racism, superiority, and dehumanization can be used to justify the destruction of human beings. Remembering is not enough in Canada. True remembrance demands accountability, land restitution, reparations, and education that confronts Canada’s ongoing colonial legacy. When we say ‘Never Again is Now’, we hold collective action to combat antisemitism in all forms. The same applies to Truth & Reconciliation; it must be more than a slogan; we must apply action to Truth & ReconciliACTION.
Liron Fyne is a 12th-grade student at Gray Academy of Jewish Education in Winnipeg. They are currently a Kenneth Leventhal High School Intern at StandWithUs Canada, a non-profit education organization that combats antisemitism.