Features
Mitch Podolak: ‘A Citizen of Earth’
By KINZEY POSEN (Ed. note: This story first appeared in the October 11, 2017 issue of The Jewish Post & News. With the Annual Winnipeg Folk Festival about to celebrate 50 years since its inception – and which MItch helped create – along with his wife Ava Kobrinsky and Colin Gorrie, we thought it an appropriate time to reprint Kinzey’s moving tribute to Mitch.)
Last November Mitch Podolak was leaving one of his favourite Winnipeg restaurants, the Evergreen on Pembina, when he suddenly fell outside. As he lay there somewhat stunned, he realized that this fall was about to change his life. He couldn’t feel the lower part of his body after landing hard on his neck.
Fast forward to September 2017 and I’m sitting with Mitch in his apartment on Sterling Lyon Parkway in Tuxedo. He just turned 70 on September 21st. When I said, “Imagine, Mitch Podolak living in Tuxedo,” he quickly says, “It’s the wrong side of the tracks.”
In a way I guess he’s right – you can see and hear the rail line close up from his window and Ikea is across the road. He and his wife, Ava Kobrinsky, moved there after he was released from the hospital in April of this year. They still have their home in Wolseley, but Mitch can’t negotiate the stairs and living on one floor is the way to go for now. These days, Mitch uses a motorized wheelchair to get around and his apartment has specialized equipment to help him stand and perform his physiotherapy. He admits he loves the exercise.
Mitch has come a long way from that fateful day last November and can now stand on his own, walk unaided for a short distance, and has regained much of the feeling in his body. There’s still a long way to go to be considered normal, but he’s confident that by the end of this year, he’ll be more mobile.
For those who know him, Mitch’s name is synonymous with the Winnipeg Folk Festival, the Edmonton and Vancouver Folk Festivals, the West End Cultural Centre, The Stan Rogers Festival in Canso, Home Routes… the list goes on. He’s also well known for his political action and work in trying to bring about change. His efforts have led to his being awarded an Honourary Doctorate from Brandon University and the Order of Manitoba from the Province.
When Mitch had to attend the award’s ceremonies, he knew that he had to wear something a bit more sophisticated than his usual black T shirt and jeans. He called up friend and magician Brian Glow to be his fashion consultant. After spending $600 on a dapper black suit, black shirt and silver tie, Mitch shocked many by appearing in his new clothes.
So how did Mitch come to be where he is now, a veritable living legend – a man with more stories to tell than a recovering addict at a 12 step meeting?
It all started in Toronto in 1947, when he was born to Rhoda Layefsky and Noach Podolak. His dad was 20 years older than his mum. Mitch is the youngest of three children – after Alice, the oldest, who lives in Cape Breton, and his brother Mark, a retired Treasury Board Analyst in Ottawa, who’s known as the “white sheep” of the family.
The Podolak family lived on Major Street, in a neighbourhood full of Jews and Europeans located between Bathhurst and Spadina. His father Noach, originally from Poland, was a housepainter, who also did theatrical sets for the Yiddish Theatre in New York for a period of time and was a friend of the well known Jewish actor, Paul Muni. His mum Rhoda was a strong, loving woman, who was born in Canada. Her dad, Mitch’s grandfather Avram Liebe, played a special role in his life and was his hero. The two had a special relationship. During the Spanish Civil War, Rhoda was an organizer for the Friends of the Mackenzie-Papineau Battalion.
Both Mitch’s parents were passionate socialists and he grew up in a rich atmosphere full of fervent political discussions. Mitch’s dad was a member of the Communist Party, but pulled out of the organization in 1956, over the invasion of Hungary and anti-Semitism in the Soviet Union. It was also the year he died, when he was only 56. Mitch was only nine years old at the time and Rhoda, who was now widowed in her thirties, turned her energy to providing for her three kids. She worked as a bookkeeper and remained a widow until her passing in 2005.
At the age of seven, Mitch started to learn how to play the clarinet. The lessons were classical and he really didn’t like it. Although he grew up in an era when rock & roll was making its debut and was just beginning to move the world in a different direction, Mitch was destined to follow a different musical path altogether. When he was 13, his older sister Alice had two tickets to go to a concert at Massey Hall with a guy who was a no-show. Instead, she took Mitch, who thought his sister was going to take him to the symphony. To his surprise, it was to a concert that forever changed his life. The featured performer was folk legend Pete Seeger and young Mitch was simply awestruck, especially by one song. On the way home, Alice explained to him what that particular piece, the “Bells of Rhymney,” was about and what the performer was trying to get across to the audience. He connected with the songs in a way that was new and liberating. Since that day, Mitch has become an ultra passionate supporter and fan of folk music, the kind we call “singer songwriter” now. Along the way, he also learned how to play the banjo quite well.
Mitch comes by his musical ability quite honestly. His uncle Philip on his dad’s side was the conductor of the Polish Army Symphony and his dad, Noach, played the clarinet.
Growing up in a very socialist family, Mitch was sensitive to the actions of the McCarthy era. He recalled two television shows in the fifties that were anti-Communist: “The Man called X” and “I Led Three Lives.” Both seemed to have the communists meeting in basements, with peeling paint and bare wire light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. The plots were often about how to recruit new members and sabotage buildings. On the walls there were portraits of Marx, Lenin, Engels, and Stalin, and they all spoke in bad Russian accents.
As Mitch’s awareness of how socialism could benefit society deepened, he recalled one event that sticks with him till today. It was seeing a hungry man eat chicken out of a garbage can – an image that’s put much into perspective for him.
In 1961, at the age of 14, he joined what was known at the time, as the Y.S.A – the Young Socialist’s Alliance, in Toronto – a Trotskyite youth movement, where everyone called each other “comrade”. Mitch was the youngest member by only a few months. When he first attended a meeting, much like the TV shows, there were portraits on the wall of Marx, Lenin and Engels, but instead of Stalin, there was Leon Trotsky. His involvement gave him the tools and inspiration to engage in socialism and later the anti Viet Nam war movement. Around that time, he met Harry Paine at a movement meeting – a man who would go on to become one of his best friends.
In 1968, Mitch made the move to Winnipeg to study as a mature student at the University of Manitoba and specifically do political organizing. He also established the Vietnam Mobilization Committee. Mitch recalled one particular scene during this period, when he and his friend, Joe Flexer, organized a major event at the U of M. They wanted to go to the Dow Chemical Company’s recruitment centre on campus to demonstrate. At the time, Dow was one of the manufacturers of napalm, a rather nasty incendiary weapon used in Viet Nam against the Viet Cong and innocent people. It would stick to the skin and cause severe burns.
In anticipation, Mitch and Joe went to a hardware store and bought the biggest chains and padlocks they could find to lock the doors to the centre. After entering and insisting they be able to talk to the Human Resources manager, he eventually came out to hear their statement. It was Joe Flexer who yelled out, “Our statement is, get the f_____ off our campus you war-mongering c__k s___s!”
That’s when the situation escalated. The manager went back into the building and the protestors pulled out the lock and chains to stop people from entering and exiting. Soon, there were a thousand people and fights began to break out. As Mitch recalls, it was a crazy time. Mitch recalls that his salary as an organizer was a hundred dollars a month.
In 1970, he left Winnipeg and began to do more political work in Halifax. It was during that time that Mitch first met Winnipegger Ava Kobrinsky, his wife of 40 plus years. They met in 1971 at the Trotskyist Hall in Toronto and were soon married. They returned to Winnipeg in 1972 when Mitch was 24.
Two years later, Mitch co-founded the Winnipeg Folk Festival with Ava and Colin Gorrie and his life took on a completely different dimension. Over the years, his expertise and vision helped establish almost all of the major folk festivals throughout Western Canada, plus others in Ontario and the Maritimes. He was a bona fide Folk Festival consultant.
As we talked, the subject shifted to music and Mitch showed me how he couldn’t use his left hand any more to play the banjo. Some of the fingers had lost their feeling and were also muscle damaged. He used his electric wheelchair to move over to his desk and grabbed a harmonica. He blew a few fat notes and told the story of how he came to play.
One night, while still in the hospital, at around 10:30 pm Mitch was in bed. He was startled to hear a familiar voice asking people outside his room, “Where’s Mitch?” when suddenly, well known blues musician, Big Dave McLean barged in.He handed him a harmonica and in his gruff voice said, “Here, learn how to play it,” and quickly left.
His multi-month experience in the Health Sciences Centre taught him several things. He can’t say enough about the doctors, nurses and staff who touched him through their professionalism, dedication and caring. He reflects a lot about what will happen with the impending cutbacks and what will happen when more baby boomers enter the system.
Back in January, Mitch’s good friend , singer, songwriter, and artist, Heather Bishop, organized a crowdfunding initiative to help finance necessary renovations to his home. It’ll allow him to live there eventually.
The goal was $20,000. It went live on Thursday and by Friday, the goal had been reached. Mitch was deeply touched by the outpouring of good wishes, stories and funds. It’s something he’ll never forget.
I asked Mitch if he had any regrets so far in his 70 years and his response was an immediate: “None.” I then asked what he was most proud of and he said, “The work we did to help stop the war in Vietnam, the West End Cultural Centre,” and, he added, the numerous folk festivals he established. Then, pausing for a few seconds, he smiled in his chair and said,“I’m proud of my relationship with my wife, our partnership, and my children.”
“Ava is an unsung hero, brilliant at organization, without her, none of this would have happened,” he added.
It’s not difficult to see what drives Mitch Podolak in terms of inspiration.
Basically, it’s two things: politics and music – in no particular order. It’s where it started for him and where he continues to flourish and contribute as a human being.
Mitch is constantly thinking of where to go next. His medical problems as a human being have given him plenty of time for introspection and he wards off any negativity by staying focused on his projects. His body may have slowed down, but his brain doesn’t rest.. The power of a moving lyric tied to a melody never fails to move him. Pair that with his love of freedom, justice and “menshlechkeit,” and you realize that what his family inculcated him is ever present.
He has three major projects he’s working on right now. One of them is a book entitled “Passing Through.” It will consist of 71 essays of people he has known throughout his life, including: his Uncle Meyer, who jumped off
the train on the way to Auschwitz, but whose family refused to follow him; his Zeida Avram Leibe – his mum’s dad whom he idolized and who taught him how to play gin; plus Mitch’s very close friends, Joe Flexer and Harry Paine, among 67 others.
Throughout the years, Mitch has kept in touch with his siblings, cousins, nephews and nieces. He appreciates family and the connections it brings. He calls it the core Podolak: people caring about other people.
I ended our conversation by asking Mitch how he feels about being a Jew. His Hebrew name is Melech which, of course, means king – and he likes the name. His mum Rhoda often used it: “Melech Ben Noach”, a.k.a. Mitch Podolak. Suffice to say, you’re not going to find Melech at any of the synagogues on Yom Kippur or on any other holidays. He loves the culture, the food, the music, the humour, but he’s an avowed atheist. He’s well aware of Jewish values and ethics and uses them to form his vision of a better world, especially the aspects of brotherhood and sisterhood. When it comes to Israel, Mitch has hopes of it becoming a socialist country, in the context of a socialist Middle East in which all Semites are equal and united in making a better world. In his way, Mitch Podolak has found a path to peace.
At the age of 70 and having to undergo a traumatic health setback, he’s remarkably selfless, stubborn, surprisingly traditional, and ever hopeful and optimistic. In fact, these days, at a time when his injuries won’t allow him to play his beloved banjo, Mitch says, “At least I can sing badly!”
(Ed. note: MItch Podolak passed away in August 2019.)
Features
Today’s Antizionism is Jew-Hatred
By HENRY SREBRNIK The Jewish world has grown darker. I’m not going to compare the anti-Jewish hate that has spread across this and other countries since October 7, 2023, to the Holocaust, but we know that Jewish life has become far more precarious. And so much of the hatred flies under the rubric of so-called “antizionism,” with people claiming that this isn’t “antisemitism.” But this is a false dichotomy. And we know it when we see it.
“Antizionism” is not about the now arcane historical debates that occurred mainly within Jewish communities from the 19th century through 1948, in which those who became Zionists sought to actualize the Jewish ties to biblical Israel and recreate a modern state. By “Zionists,” today’s enemies are not referring to supporters of the 19th century self-liberation movement of the Jewish people, whose goal was to establish a national home. They known little of this history. They’ve never heard of Theodor Herzl, Ahad Ha’am, Ber Borochov, Ze’ev Jabotinsky, or Chaim Weizmann.
As a derogatory slur, a pejorative, it simply means “Jew,” the way earlier words, now archaic, used to. Some call Jews “Zios.” They mean the Jewish people, who exist in opposition to everything good in the world, and who are figures of emblematic wickedness. In this they simply update what Nazis said a century ago. Hitler, too, was an “antizionist,” along with his racial antisemitism. It attacks Jews, here in Western countries like Canada – in the cities where they live, in the universities they attend, in the publishing houses where they send their manuscripts, and in the entertainment world where they act and sing.
Note that it calls itself antizionism, not anti-Israelism, so that the net can grab virtually every Jew who simply wants to see Israel not destroyed – and that’s the vast, vast majority. We Jews know what it means, regardless of what our enemies claim. Would anyone think that the term antisemitism means hatred of Semites?
Clearly a ludicrous idea; it was invented in the 19th century by a German Jew-hater, Wilhelm Marr, to make it sound more “racially scientific.” No one is fooled by that, of course, nor should they be by so-called “antizionism.” In its effects, it is for Jews a distinction with a negligible difference. It is meant to portray Jews as villains, and while it may fool some gullible people, it will deceive very, very few of us.
After all, as Michel Coren noted in “Roald Dahl’s Antisemitism Feels Painfully Familiar,” in the British magazine the Spectator March 16, “most Jewish people do in fact to varying degrees support Israel, partly because centuries of bigotry, violence, massacre, and attempted genocide have given them little alternative. They may oppose Israeli policy, may condemn the current government, may even want radical compromises, but there’s still support. And in the current climate of leftist and Islamist triumphalism, it’s all Zionism and none of it acceptable.”
Anti-Zionism is marked by three core “libels”: that “Zionists” are colonizers, guilty of apartheid, and committing genocide. (Actually, the only time we were settler-colonialists was when we conquered Canaan, but that was God’s doing!) Anti-Israel activists incorporate historical manifestations of anti-Jewish discrimination under the guise of anti-Zionist political activism, from the blood libel to Nazi-era tropes, mixed with contemporary academic theories. Anti-Zionism acts as a container for these historical tropes, blending them together with progressive talking points.
George Washington University professor Daniel Schwartz, in “Vocabulary Lesson,” Jewish Review of Books, Spring 2026, describes a pro-Palestinian demonstration in 2025 at his campus where a student held a placard with Israel at the center and spokes radiating outward to other evils: imperialism, white supremacy, even reproductive injustice. “This is not garden-variety political criticism of Israel policies or conduct. It invokes a symbolic architecture in which the Jewish state becomes the universal source of global suffering — a structure with deep resonance in antisemitic thought.”
Scholars argue that it is the third major iteration of discrimination against Jews. The first was anti-Judaism, based on religion, the second was antisemitism, focused on race, and the third, anti-Zionism, is a hatred of Jewish peoplehood.
“Anti-Zionism transforms the very meaning of Zionism,” contends Adam Louis-Klein. “The Jew is reconstructed through a new symbolic logic and a new repertoire of stereotypes.” Where antisemites invoked the pseudo-biological figure of “the Semite” to cast Jews as an Oriental race infiltrating the West, anti-Zionists invoke the authority of the social sciences to recode the Jew as the “Zionist,” a European colonizer destined to commit genocide of a non-European population.
“Erasing Jewish indigeneity and severing Jewish belonging to the land of Israel, anti-Zionism transforms the race polluter of antisemitism into the white settler of anti-Zionism,” he asserts in his March 24, 2026 Free Press article “Yes, Anti-Zionism Is Discrimination.”
For this reason, he writes, it’s imperative that organizations and institutions committed to protecting Jews and fighting the scourge of Jew-hatred start condemning—clearly and without apology—antisemitism and antizionism. This goes to the moral core of the matter: the right of Jews to a homeland versus the bigotry of those who deny them that right.
After the Holocaust, explicit Jew-hatred became unfashionable in polite society, but the impulse never disappeared. The workaround was simple: separate Zionism from Judaism in name, then recycle every old anti-Jewish trope and pin it on “the Zionists.”
Henry Srebrnik is a professor of political science at the University of Prince Edward Island.
Features
Artificial Intelligence, Sports Data, and What It Means for Community Values
Artificial intelligence is becoming an increasingly visible part of modern life, shaping how information is analyzed and decisions are made. While often discussed in fields such as healthcare, finance, and education, sports analytics provides a particularly clear example of how these systems function in real time. For many readers, the relevance of this topic goes beyond sports itself and speaks to broader questions about technology and community values.
Within Jewish communities, where education, critical thinking, and ethical responsibility have long been central principles, the rise of AI invites meaningful discussion. Understanding how automated systems operate is not only a technical issue but also a cultural and intellectual one. In global digital environments, references to platforms such as 1xbet Republic of Ireland often appear in discussions about real-time data processing, illustrating how widely these technologies are applied.
From Human Judgment to Algorithmic Thinking
Traditionally, interpreting sports performance required human observation and experience. Analysts would review statistics, assess player form, and make informed judgments based on knowledge built over time. While this method remains valuable, it is now being supplemented by artificial intelligence.
AI systems can process large volumes of data instantly, identifying patterns and trends that might otherwise go unnoticed. This shift reflects a broader movement toward algorithmic thinking—where decisions are increasingly informed by data rather than intuition alone.
For communities that place a strong emphasis on learning and inquiry, this raises important questions. How should data be interpreted? What role should human judgment continue to play? And how do we ensure that reliance on technology does not replace thoughtful analysis?
What AI Systems Analyze
Modern AI models draw on a wide range of data inputs to generate insights. In the context of sports, this includes:
- real-time performance data
- historical comparisons
- individual player metrics
- behavioural patterns
- external conditions
The ability to integrate these variables allows AI to produce highly detailed assessments. However, it also creates a layer of complexity that is not always easy to understand.
This challenge is particularly relevant in educational settings. As younger generations become more familiar with technology, there is a growing need to teach not only how to use these systems, but also how to question and evaluate them.
Ethics, Transparency, and Responsibility
The increasing role of AI naturally leads to ethical considerations. In Jewish thought, concepts such as responsibility, fairness, and accountability are deeply rooted and widely discussed. These ideas are highly relevant when considering how automated systems are designed and used.
One of the key concerns surrounding AI is transparency. When decisions are made by complex algorithms, it can be difficult to understand the reasoning behind them. This raises questions about trust and oversight.
Ensuring that AI systems are used responsibly requires a balance between innovation and ethical awareness. Community dialogue plays an essential role in this process, helping to define how technology should align with shared values.
A Community Conversation About the Future
The use of artificial intelligence in sports analytics may seem like a narrow topic, but it reflects a much larger transformation. Across many areas of life, data-driven systems are becoming the norm, influencing how information is processed and decisions are made.
For Jewish communities, this moment presents an opportunity for reflection and engagement. By approaching technology with curiosity, critical thinking, and a strong ethical framework, it is possible to better understand both its potential and its limitations.
Ultimately, the conversation about AI is not just about technology. It is about how communities adapt, preserve their values, and shape the future in a rapidly changing world.
Features
The moral degradation of Israel’s far-right is even worse than you think
By Dan Perry (Posted March 27, 2026)
This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.
This week, an Israeli Knesset member said something that should have been shocking, horrifying and unanimously condemned.
“I stand behind IDF soldiers in every situation,” said Yitzhak Kroizer, a member of the ultranationalist Otzmah Yehudit Party. Even if the “collateral damage is children or women — it does not matter to me.”
“In Jenin, there are no innocent civilians,” he added. “In Jenin, there are no innocent children.”
Kroizer was referring to a genuine tragedy: The killing of almost an entire Palestinian family by Israel undercover forces on March 15, near the village of Tammun. The forces opened fire on the family’s car as they returned from a shopping trip. Waed Bani Ohde, her husband Ali, and two of their young children Othman, 7, and Mohammed, 5, were killed. Two sons survived. The army says the car accelerated toward the forces; Palestinian witnesses say the IDF gave no warning before attacking.
It is tempting to dismiss statements like Kroizer’s as the rhetoric of the extreme. Indeed, I often find myself making that point when talking to people inclined to think the worst of Israel: They do not represent the majority, and not even the immoral government of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
But that, while true, is becoming a little too pat.
For it is also true that as time goes, as the wars continue and hearts harden, what Kroizer articulated is a moral framework that is steadily taking hold in the Israeli right.
That’s why the statements were not condemned by anyone associated with the government. And, indeed, Israeli far-right activists responded to the deaths with social media posts rejoicing in the death of the unarmed “terrorists.”
No senior Israeli official apologized for the shooting. No one said publicly that even if the soldiers believed they were acting under threat, the killing of two children demands something more than a routine internal review.
No official has even conceded that this type of event might contribute to agitation and instability in the West Bank, and perhaps spark another uprising. Set empathy aside; even enlightened self-interest is beyond the current Israeli government.
Yes, an investigation has been opened. But military investigations almost never lead to concrete action against the troops. A Guardian report this week revealed that no Israeli citizen has been prosecuted for a killing in the West Bank since 2020, despite a radical uptick in violence; settlers and police have already killed 10 Palestinian civilians this month alone.
The undercover soldiers, especially, are something like the real life version of the international hit Fauda, widely admired for their counter-terrorism activity. There is little appetite for throwing the book at them.
So while it’s tempting to chalk this up as just another tragedy in a long list of tragedies on both sides, it is actually much more: a devastating manifestation of something fundamental — not just a personal tragedy but a national one.
That’s a tragedy I’ve seen unfolding slowly, since even before the Hamas attack of Oct. 7, 2023.
I’ve seen it in the rhetoric of far-right leaders like cabinet ministers Itamar Ben-Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich. But I’ve also seen it firsthand, as when I found myself on wartime television panels where I was besieged by right-wingers enraged at my assertion that innocents have been killed during the war in Gaza. I challenged one of them about whether this idea would include a two-week old baby.
“OK, maybe not the baby!” he conceded, unhappily.
The descent of part of Israeli society into this unforgivable lack of compassion is, some have argued, an inevitable outcome of indefinite control over the Palestinian territories. For years, warnings that rule over millions of disenfranchised Arabs would mutate Israel’s character were treated as excessive, even hysterical.
Israel was not a colonial power in the classic sense, its defenders argued; it was a democracy under siege, navigating impossible dilemmas. The West Bank may be “occupied” but that was justifiable because of the threat its near proximity posed. Israel’s actions might be harsh, but they were necessary, the argument went. It was said that the country’s moral core, despite pressures, would remain intact.
The initial signs after this latest tragedy are not exactly reassuring. Far from condemning Kroizer, as they rightly should have, the cabinet convened this week to offer his party a great gift: the legalization of 30 illegal settlement outposts, including some in “Area A,” which is supposed to be under full Palestinian control.
Israel did not begin this way. Its founding story was deeply bound up with an acute awareness of the need to maintain morality. The early Zionists envisioned a country that would be a “light unto the nations.”
As occupation has become an entrenched reality, most Israelis have wanted to look away; the problem is too complicated. This position may not be possible for much longer. The moral rot is too extreme. But the good news is that it has not infected everything and everyone. Israel’s public broadcaster devoted a segment to the Palestinian family’s tragedy, characterizing Kroizer’s statements as a disgrace.
The humanistic ideas through which Israel once judged itself have eroded. We must now hope that they won’t entirely vanish.
Dan Perry is the former chief editor of The Associated Press in Europe, Africa and the Middle East, the former chairman of the Foreign Press Association in Jerusalem, and the author of two books about Israel. Follow his newsletter “Ask Questions Later” at danperry.substack.com.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of the Forward. Discover more perspectives in Opinion. To contact Opinion authors, email opinion@forward.com.
This story was originally published on the Forward.