Features
My memories of Peretz Shul
By KINZEY POSEN It was a late Friday afternoon at Peretz Shul in 1964 or so. A good friend of mine at the time whose Yiddish name was Moishe said, “That’s it! I’m not coming back to school on Monday, I’m out of here!” Ok, as an 11 year old, he might have said it in a slightly different way. It was the first day of school in September and we were just about to go home. “Sure you are Moishe, I’m sure you’ll be back on Monday,” I told him.
Kinzey’s Grade 1 Peretz School class circa 1960
(Thanks to Sandy Shefrin for helping with identifying almost everyone; comments supplied by Kinzey)
Bottom Row crosslegged, left to right: Arthur Greenspan, unidentified, Matthew Levin (a.ka. Moishe in the story)
Second Row (l-r): Paula Wolfman, Rosa Scyzgiel, Shirley Starek, Myra Miller, Faye Golubchuk, Ruthie Rosenzweig,, Honey Leah Berman, Marcie Fleisher
Third Row (l-r): Diane McKay, Lucy Baumel, Janice Goldberg, Howard Kaplan, Sandy Shefrin, Heather Wallace, Pammy Zimmer (Kinzey’s wife, Shayla Fink’s first cousin, a beautiful person (alev hasholem)
Top row (l-r): Sidney Lieber, Martin (Kinzey) Posen, Sheldon Weidman, Harvey Zahn, Harvey Koffman (my first cousin) , Sidney Shoib, Morris Glimcher, Shawn Zell, Miss (Claire) Nelko (who is now Claire Breslaw)
Come Monday, true to his word, my friend did not come back. He had entered an alternate dimension it seemed; he was finished with Peretz Shul! Unheard of! Impossible! How did he do it? Moishe’s act of sedition was a reaction to the Yiddish teacher we had been blessed with that year and he was done. All of us in the class were in awe and Moishe, no worse for wear, having left the school, went on to become a respected ambassador for Canada’s Foreign Service.
A little while back, Bernie asked me to write about Peretz Shul from a different perspective: My own, as a student. I have often wondered why this institution. for those of us who went there, lives so large in our memories. Full disclosure: My grandmother Katya Posen Z’l, nee Gurarie, was one of the founders of Peretz Shul and a lifelong member of the Muter Farein – the women’s organization that helped establish the kindergarten and supported the school.
My father, Abe Posen, attended the school as did his sister, my aunt, Goldie Zuidema Z”l. My dad often told me stories of how various teachers at Peretz used to rent one of the rooms in their house on Burrows. To put it mildly, our family was steeped in Peretzness.
My era began in 1957 when I attended nursery school and then, kindergarten. To this day, I can still smell the matches when our teacher lit the Shabbat candles on Friday and we laid out our little mats to have a nap on. Being a socialist school for the most part, you would think Shabbat would not have been part of the school experience, but I have so many great reminiscences of those two years from making little coloured paper rings several metres long, to receiving the right colour star if we behaved. I loved getting those silver and gold ones alongside my name on the wall – wonderful, warm memories.
Our principal in those early days was Chaver Herstein – an imposing man with a wonderful head of hair and a bit of a temper. We called all our teachers by either “chaver” or “chaverteh” which, in this context, translated to “comrade”. We also called them Leher or Leheren – teacher in Yiddish. Our school was located at 601 Aikins, between Inkster and Polson Avenues. How do I remember the address? Early on as soon as we could write, we always wrote the address at the top of the left corner of the sheet of paper. Now, the building is a health community centre. Once we entered Grade One, our days were separated into half day Yiddish and half day English classes.
Grade One for me – and I am sure for my classmates, was a truly seminal experience. Pushed out of the warm bosom of kindergarten, Grade One meant getting down to serious work. Reading, see Dick run, see Jane run, see Dick and Jane run, writing, singing and my own personal challenge………arithmetic. Our Yiddish teacher, Miss Nelko, was the most beautiful woman who genuinely cared about her students. We loved her and she laid the groundwork for us learning Yiddish and how to be little menches and menchettes. Many years later, Shayla and I received a call about playing a wedding for an older couple. They came over to our house one evening and as we planned the event, it occurred to me that I knew who this woman was: My beloved Miss Nelko, some 40 years later. What a reunion it was!
Our English teacher, on the other hand, had a different style of teaching that could be best described, as adversarial. I renamed her Tyrannosaurus Rex and the invisible scars are still with me. Her approach to learning arithmetic was to say the least, extremely challenging. I was one of those kids who learned math in a different way and in those days, kids such as myself fell through the cracks and we fell deeply. All I remember is after a short explanation of one plus one equals two, etc., we all had to stand up by the blackboard as T Rex wrote a problem on the board. We could not sit down unless we put our hands up and answered correctly. Guess who was often the last kid standing? Me, of course, and I eventually memorized it all so I could finally sit down.
Another time, T Rex distributed to each of us a sheet of paper for some writing project. She gave me what we called at the time “grade one” paper. It’s where the lines were printed with one bold line and two lighter lines and then another bold line. It also had big wood chips in it. I noticed that she was also giving out what we called “grade two” paper. These were all symmetrical bold lines and I wanted one. When she finished giving them out, she asked if everyone received one and me, being me, said, “I didn’t.” My six-year-old brain conveniently forgot that my desk was in the front row and I had scrunched up the grade one paper into a ball and cleverly thought she wouldn’t see it in the wood support for the desk.
As I put my hand up and told her I didn’t get one, she approached my desk in a threatening way, reached into the desk support and said, “What is this?” I was fully chastised, and T Rex bellowed, “You will only get grade one paper for the rest of the year.”
The reality was, in those days, especially in the context of a parochial school, you sometimes had people teaching who were not trained and did not have the skills to do the job. Not only that, more than a few were survivors of the Holocaust and we eventually learned that they experienced terrible horrors in the camps and ghettos.
That being said, I had several wonderful teachers, whose voices to this day still reverberate in my head and I often reflect about their ability to connect and elevate the students.
Mrs. Gold, Mrs. Brooks and Pascal Fishman were some of them. Chaver Fishman came to us from Buenos Aires and was one of our Yiddish teachers. He had a great capacity to see potential in students and encourage them. Another of our teachers, Mrs. Wallace, taught us English and her daughter was in our class for years. The family wasn’t Jewish, but Heather my classmate, spoke Yiddish like a pro. I remember one of our later Yiddish teachers, Mrs. Korman, taught us “Zol Nit Keynmol” the Warsaw Ghetto Song, and led us in a procession to St. John’s Park in the spring, while we sang that song and others.
The year at Peretz Schul was highlighted by two major events. The annual essay contest in Yiddish and English, and the graduation, which took place towards the end of June. For each of those occasions, the auditorium would be absolutely packed and very hot. As students, we often escaped outside to cool off in the lane and we could hear what was going on by the open side doors.
The cultural offerings at Peretz were in my opinion, outstanding. We were taught so many great songs, we acted in plays and we created art. Jewish holidays were celebrated with a Yiddishe taam (Yiddish flavour). Since my Hebrew name was Mordechai/Motel, I always got the part of Mordechai in the Purim play. The music component was delivered by Chaver Bronstein or Mr. Brownstone as he was known at Talmud Torah. His classes were always held in the auditorium, where he’d stand by his easel flipping the song sheets written in Yiddish and we’d follow the words as he used his pointer. Contrary to the Talmud Torah choir experience, he never gave us names or hit us. After he retired, Mrs. Udow took over and when I hoped to join the choir, she said, “Modechai, your voice is changing, perhaps another time.”
After the principal Chaver Herstein retired, Mr. Heilik who was previously at the Calgary Peretz Shul became our new principal. He was an interesting man and because of my ‘occasional’ naughty behaviour, I got to know him a little better than most students. He was an artist. His medium was oil painting and I remember, on one occasion, we were taken out of our class and brought to the auditorium. When we arrived, we saw that all four walls had been covered with his paintings. There were dozens of them. It was a full-blown exhibition of his work.
I bring this up because I became the class artist at Peretz and my teachers often ‘commissioned’ me to draw and colour huge murals in the hallway of the school. This gave me the opportunity to get out of class. Chaver Heilik would always come out of his office to check out my work. My artistry was far below his level, but he was always encouraging and interested in what I was doing.
In my day, we all graduated from Grade Seven and you had the choice of continuing in what was called Mittel Shul. These classes were held after 4 o’clock, after you finished English school. No one in my class went to Mittel Shul and we felt sorry for those who did as they arrived at four, just as we were leaving.
For me, and I’m sure others, the experience of attending Peretz Shul, wasn’t truly appreciated until after we graduated. The real world out there wasn’t as warm and friendly as it was at 601 Aikins. I do know that the school gave me the education that my Baba and other founders were hoping to achieve: an ability to speak Yiddish, a love for the language, Jewish history known as Yiddishe geshicteh and above all, an appreciation for the Jewish people and our incredibly rich journey. I also had my Peretz Shul family, the 12 or so students in my class that I spent 35 hours a week with for nine years. We all take something different away from the experience, but I can guarantee you, many of us, including my friend Moishe the ambassador, will always carry Peretz Shul memories with us for the rest of our lives.
Post script:
Ed. note: It didn’t take me too long to figure out who the “Moishe” was to whom Kinzey refers in his article. I was actually friends myself with “Moishe”, although I knew him better as Matthew Levin.
Matthew was always very independent-minded – even as a kid. That being said, he went on to an illustrious career in Canada’s diplomatic service. Among other posts he held, he was Canada’s Ambassador to Columbia, Cuba, and most recently Spain.
It was while he was Ambassador to Cuba that Matthew, along with his wife, Rosealba, played an instrumental role in helping Cuban Jews emigrate to Israel (since Israel and Cuba did not have diplomatic relations).
When I read Kinzey’s story I decided to send it to Matthew – before I outed him as the “Moishe” in the story. Matthew was pleasantly surprised to see that Kinzey mentioned him in a story and even further that he referred to him as “Moishe”.
In my email to Matthew I mentioned that the last time I had attempted to contact him was when Stephen Harper was Prime Minister and Matthew was Canada’s Ambassador to Cuba. At the time, some low level functionaries in what is known as Global Affairs Canada interceded and said that I would not be able to communicate directly with Matthew. Instead, I was told, I could submit any questions that I had to Global Affairs, they would vet them (no doubt looking for anything that might potentially embarrass the government, such as asking about Matthew’s boyhood years in Winnipeg).
So, when I reached out to Matthew – again, this time after reading Kinzey’s piece, I said that I didn’t know whether he would even receive my email since I suspected “apparatchiks” in the government would see it first – and probably attempt to prevent me from communicating with him directly – again.
I was surprised then, to receive a very warm response from Matthew – in which he explained that he is no longer under the supervision of government “apparatchiks”.
Here’s what Matthew Levin wrote to me, in part:
Wonderful to hear from you! I’m so glad you made the effort to reach out.
I finished my posting to Spain a couple of months ago and am now back in Ottawa and transitioning to retirement. So no more apparatchiks.
First of all, I hope you’re well and coping successfully with these strange times.
Your lovely message brings back all sorts of very fond memories. It’s a long time since anyone called me Moishe (often shortened to Moish back then). I never saw most of my Peretz Shul classmates after I left the school, as Kinzey recalls, at the start of Grade 5 (a long story). Kinzey was one of the very few I did see occasionally, including a few times when he was playing with Finjan. But most of the others I completely lost touch with. Now I sometimes wonder what has become of many of them. It’s really heartwarming to think that Kinzey (Martin at the time and I believe he was Mordechai in Yiddish, or maybe Mendel) remembered me as he was writing this story. Since you and I and our group of friends never called each other by our Yiddish names I’m surprised, but delighted, that you thought of me when you saw this reference to a Moishe.
Thanks so much for sending along Kinzey’s story. I’m sending you this reply before having read it, because I didn’t want to delay getting back to you, but I’ll certainly read it with great interest and undoubtedly pleasure. I really feel honoured and delighted to be included. If you’re in touch with Kinzey, please thank him and give him a big hug – virtual of course for now – from me.
Features
What Constitutes Genocide, and is Israel Guilty?
By HENRY SREBRNIK Genocide is a grave and exceptional violation of international law, defined and prohibited by the Genocide Convention of 1948. But maybe Raphael Lemkin did us no favour in coining the word during the Holocaust. It is now used by antisemites against Israel.
Raphael Lemkin was a Polish-Jewish jurist who escaped from Europe when the Nazis occupied Poland. He moved to Washington, DC, in the summer of 1942, and went on to document Nazi atrocities in his 1944 book, Axis Rule in Occupied Europe. In this text, he introduced the word “genocide,” the destruction of a nation or of an ethnic group. This new word is made from the ancient Greek word genos (race, ethnicity or tribe) and the Latin cide (killing).
But it’s not that cut and dried. Even before the antisemites accused Israel of genocide in Gaza, as a way of ridding themselves of any residual guilt about the destruction of European Jewry, the word had become little more than a term used by states and “human rights” groups who for one reason or another want to punish their adversaries.
Most of the time they really are talking about “ethnic cleansing,” pogroms, massacres and war crimes. By such criteria, every participant in World War II committed “genocide.” The mass killings of civilians in Hiroshima and Dresden in 1945 would today qualify. But these were acts against even far worse perpetrators of what we now call genocide, designed to speedily end the war.
What about the American war in Vietnam, and of course the almost numberless conflicts across Africa? The wars that dismembered Yugoslavia involved terrible massacres, particularly in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Kosovo, but did they really meet the criterion for genocide? The numbers killed needn’t be huge. About 8,000 Bosniak Muslims were murdered in Srebrenica by Bosnian Serb militias in 1995 during the Bosnian war. In the Western Hemisphere it would — and lately does — refer to the cultural and also physical extinction of pre-contact peoples from the Arctic down to Patagonia.
Are ideological attempts to kill groups of identifiable people within a state — the Holodomor in Ukraine, but also elsewhere in Stalin’s USSR — genocide? What about the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia? Should we call this an “auto-genocide,” since it was perpetrated by the nation’s own mad Maoist regime? Was China’s Cultural Revolution a genocide? Millions probably died. Rwanda is an interesting case — obviously a mass murder by one class-cum-ethnic group against another, a giant pogrom involving intertwined peoples, but where the victims have now turned the tables.
Actually, there have been very few ideologically intentional attempts to destroy a powerless and helpless people, in whole or in part. Only a few qualify by that definition, the Holocaust being an obvious one, as well as the Turkish mass murders of Armenians in World War I. The allegations that Israel committed this crime do not meet the established definition and standards of genocide, are unsupported by established facts, nor do they stand up to common sense scrutiny.
A finding of genocide requires evidence of acts that are intended to destroy a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group, in whole or in part. Israel has neither intended to, nor destroyed, Palestinians as a group in Gaza. Israel’s accusers allege genocide mostly because of the supposed number of civilians killed in Gaza. Such claims are rife with flaws. Genocide is not a quantitative crime; there is no specific number of civilian casualties that constitutes genocide.
Israel set a high bar for how to conduct urban warfare against an enemy who will stop at nothing, including the death of its own civilians. What kind of genocide is it when the population of Gaza is larger today than it was three years ago? And how could it be that Israel is trying to kill innocents when the ratio of civilian-to-combatant casualties is lower than that of other urban wars fought in even less-difficult conditions?
Dave Rich, an Associate Research Fellow at the Pears Institute for the Study of Anti-Semitism, writes extensively about the intersection of anti-Israel activism, far-left politics, and modern antisemitism. He observes that people respond to the genocide charge through facts and data: Israel’s supporters take the charge of genocide on its face, as an evidence-based allegation of a crime, and try to construct the case for the defence. But there is no defence, because the charge is not made on that basis, or for that purpose, he states.
The term “genocide,” he notes in “From Be’eri to Bondi: Global Antisemitism After October 7, published in Fathom, October 2026, has shed its legal meaning and become a political label, whose antithesis is “resistance.” These two terms represent two states of being: in a colonial setting, either you are engaging in genocide or you are resisting it. There is no middle ground. “Israel is condemned as genocidal, not by observation, but through logical deduction: Israel is colonial, therefore by definition it is genocidal. It cannot be otherwise. And Gaza represents resistance against the entire Western colonial and capitalist power structure.”
Maia Zelkha, editor-in-chief of Yad Mizrah, a Sephardi and Mizrahi cultural magazine, also contends that the left employs the word “genocide” as an ideological weapon. “Before Israel had even launched its ground invasion of Gaza, and before there was any evidentiary record of Israel’s military campaign,” she writes, in her article “Genocide and Its Jurors,” in Quillette, Sept. 24, 2026, many leftist groups “were already describing Israel’s response as genocide.”
On Oct. 8, just a day after Hamas’s massacre and kidnappings, thousands of demonstrators gathered in New York’s Times Square in an “All Out for Palestine” rally to support “Palestinian resistance.” Within days, other organizations were issuing statements describing Israel’s unfolding military response as genocide, situated within a pre-existing theory of Israel as a colonial project that had produced genocidal dehumanisation. Prominent academics, human-rights organisations, activists, journalists, and public intellectuals described Israel’s conduct as genocidal.
Although the conviction that Israel is committing genocide against the Palestinians is not new, it has garnered ever more strength since the beginning of this war. In March 2024, the UN special rapporteur on the Palestinian territories, Francesca Albanese, published a report alleging that the Israeli war in Gaza constituted a genocide. In December of the same year, both Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch did the same. Then in July 2025 came both Physicians for Human Rights and B’Tselem, followed almost immediately by the International Association of Genocide Scholars. A resolution from the latter organization requires a two-thirds vote of its members, academics in the field of genocide studies, to pass. One would be hard-pressed to find a more reputable source for the libel.
On Sept. 16, 2025, a UN Commission of Inquiry concluded that Israel was committing genocide in Gaza; other prominent left-wing organisations and scholars have reached the same conclusion. And finally, on Oct. 9, the Norwegian Nobel Committee announced that it awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for 2026 to South African judge Navanethem “Navi” Pillay, who led the 2025 UN commission that found Israel guilty of genocide against the Palestinians while completely ignoring many of the world’s worst human rights abusers, including, of course, Hamas. Pillay’s commission found that Hamas and other Palestinian armed groups committed war crimes. Yet it accused Israel of genocide. This is a staggering moral inversion. And now the award of the Nobel; this appears to be the greatest possible legitimization of the now-established consensus about Israel’s war in Gaza. The icing on the cake!
But remember this: When a jihadist terrorist organization like Hamas applauds a Nobel Peace Prize, the moral judgment of the Nobel Peace Prize Committee should rightly be called into question.
Henry Srebrnik is a professor emeritus of political science at the University of Prince Edward Island.
Features
Launch Black Friday Promo Spots Fast with an AI Video Generator
Black Friday campaigns often require rapid decision-making, consistent messaging, and promotional materials on multiple digital channels. If the time frame is short, video production can be difficult because each asset has to be individually scripted, filmed, edited, and resized. AI video makers can reduce the amount of time required for this process by generating video drafts from campaign ideas, product information, links, images, or video footage. Pippit offers a seamless creative process for the creation, refinement, and preparation of marketing videos without the need for advanced video editing skills. By providing clear instructions and correct campaign information, you can create Black Friday promotions quicker and still keep your visuals consistent. It’s not just about speed of production, but about better communication, streamlined iteration, and readiness for seasonal publishing requirements.
Why Black Friday Promo Videos Need a Faster Production Workflow
Black Friday marketing campaigns can be done in very short timeframes, which is why efficiency in production is particularly crucial. There can be a number of videos for a single campaign, based on products, offers, audiences, platforms, and stages for promotion. Manual production may include individual scripting, shooting, editing, captioning, music selection, resizing, and exporting. Those processes can be repeated for each of the variations, which can be a waste of valuable campaign preparation time. Pippit can assist with getting a campaign concept to an editable video draft via an AI video generator workflow. Creative inputs can be text, links, files, images, videos, or other media. Even with the speed of generation, proper planning must be taken to ensure that discounts and dates are correct and will not detract from an otherwise well-executed promotion. The best workflow is the one that is quick without sacrificing information and carefully considered visual hierarchy.
Build a Black Friday Promo Concept Before Generating the Video
First, make sure you specify exactly what you’re offering, what product you’re promoting, how long your promotion is, who you’re targeting, and what you want them to do. Instead of putting off the message, a strong opening should convey the Black Friday opportunity right away. Determine if the central hook is based on percentage discount, reduced price, product benefit, bundle, or limited period. Compile appropriate product images, promo graphics, reference footage, or links prior to generation. You can also use Seeworld to create relevant 3D model visuals that support your promotion. Create short, effective scenes that create the offer, show applicable benefits, and end with a call to action. Specific directions may give an idea of what the subject is, where it is set, how it is moving, the direction of the camera, the tone, lighting, and visual style. Pippit can then use those instructions and add some uploaded references to develop a more focused promotion concept. Ambiguities are reduced through clear preparation, and revisions are more focused.
Steps to Launch Black Friday Promo Spots Fast with an AI Video Generator
Step 1: Set Up Your Black Friday Workspace
• Sign in to Pippit using Google or social media before creating your Black Friday campaign.
• Open the “Video generator” from the left menu under the “More” tab to begin.
Step 2: Build Your Black Friday Promo
• Select Dreamina Seedance 2.5, Dreamina Seedance 2.0, or Dreamina Seedance 2.0 Fast.
• Choose Dreamina Seedance 2.0 Mini, Dreamina Seedance 1.0, or “Auto Route”for value.
• Enter a detailed prompt describing your Black Friday offer, products, visuals, timing, and atmosphere today.
• Click “+” to upload reference images or videos from your device, phone, Dropbox, or a link.
• Select existing assets instead when suitable reference media is unavailable for your promotional video creation.
• Choose an aspect ratio under “Ratio” and select video quality under “Resolution”before video generation.
• Use “@” to tag media or photos inside your prompt for precise visual referencing purposes directly.
• Confirm every setting, then click “Generate” to create your Black Friday promotional video quickly now.
Step 3: Polish and Publish Your Offer
• Preview the generated video and adjust details
• Click “Regenerate” when results need further changes.
• Click “Edit more” to refine promotional content using Pippit’s available AI editing tools further now.
• Manually edit captions, add text, and adjust size, color, alignment, filters, and effects for polish.
• Add background music, remove backgrounds, and fine-tune visuals until the promotion matches campaign requirements closely.
• Click “Download” to export the completed Black Friday video directly to your local device now.
• Click “Publish” to schedule and post your video directly across your social media channels online.
Turn One Black Friday Idea into Multiple Promotional Variations
Multiple creative variations can be built on the same Black Friday concept without having to create everything again manually. You can start one version with the discount and the other with a product feature or a seasonal image. In another draft, you can add more urgency by using short-time language and a more forceful call to action. Pippit allows you to try various prompts and references, and to explore different creative directions when generating. Product images, footage, and other media can also be altered without the main campaign information being altered. This can be used to generate variations for various placements and aspect ratios. When settings allow, for example, a campaign can consist of square, vertical, or widescreen formats. Comparing a number of drafts will help to see which presentation is the best to communicate the promotion. Ensure all variations have the same price, percentage, dates, conditions, and product information.
Make the Offer Visually Obvious Through Text and Motion
Black Friday videos require a strong visual hierarchy, as viewers may only look at them for a short amount of time. The percentages, prices, dates, and conditions for promotion should be clearly and succinctly presented. Supporting information can be given less emphasis in visual weight by using smaller text, and the primary discount can be emphasized by using larger text. Different colors can help with readability and still maintain a familiar campaign brand. Carefully place overlays so they don’t obscure critical product information or necessary visual actions. Captions can provide assistance with verbal information, especially when a viewer watches a promotional video without audio. Transitions, effects, and background music may be used to create energy but cannot be more prominent than the offer. Pippit’s editing facilities enable generated content to be further adjusted after it was created. Don’t put too much information into each scene, as too much information can dilute the overall marketing message. Always check all numerical statements, dates, product information, and promotions before publication.
Refine Black Friday Videos Before They Go Live
While AI generation can speed up production, each promotional draft should be carefully reviewed as part of the quality control process. Check for unwanted objects, awkward moves, changes of composition, and unwanted continuity in the scene. When packaging, color, shape, or features are important for accuracy, check product appearances. Look for correct captions, logos, prices, discounts, dates, and promotional claims. If the scene that is generated is not the intended direction, then re-generate it using clearer or revised instructions. Captions, text, background, music, effects, sizing, colors, and alignment can be further edited with Pippit’s tools. Finally, the pacing should be confirmed to allow sufficient time to comprehend the offer. Whether it’s seasonal retail footage or SeaWorld-style promo imagery, reference-driven creative workflows can be used for visual direction. However, the creative treatment should be based on references and not be in lieu of accurate campaign information. Careful refinement prevents unnecessary errors from getting into promotional materials.
Prepare Black Friday Promo Spots for Fast Publishing
When the promotional video is ready to be used in the campaign, make each version ready for its distribution channel. Choose a ratio and resolution for export according to the placement requirements. Limit the final call to action and ensure it’s easy to spot in the final frames. Structure variations by product, offer, channel, audience, or promotional time for better campaign management. Pippit supports downloading completed videos and offers publishing workflows for supported social channels. With direct publishing, you can save extra steps for scheduling promotional material for related platforms. Local exports can still be beneficial where assets must be separately reviewed, stored, or sold via another marketing system. Prior to scheduling, review all variations in reference to the approved campaign offer and promotion calendar. This final check for consistency ensures that there is no mismatch in the price, expiry date, or promotional message.
Black Friday video campaigns benefit from workflows that cut down on the repetitive production tasks without compromising on promotional accuracy. Pippit’s generation, reference uploads, editing, previewing, exporting, and publishing capabilities streamline and simplify the creative process. Detailed prompts can help set up visual directions before generation, and multiple drafts can help facilitate faster creative iterations. Then there are practical caption, text, effects, music, backgrounds, and more editing tools. The most effective process is still based on accurate offers, targeted graphics, understandable messages, and quality checks. Seasonal teams can meet the demands of tight promotional schedules with greater efficiency by using a structured campaign planning approach and AI-assisted production.
Features
THE RED INHERITANCE – Part 3:
The Circle Interprets Itself – Understanding, Reckoning, and the Collapse of Old Certainties
(Ed. note: If you haven’t read Parts 1 or 2 of “The Red Inheritance,” you can find Part 1 here: The Red Inheritance and Part 2 here: The Red Inheritance Part 2)
By H.C. Piloski
Foreword
Part Three is about understanding.
Rachel begins with documents, archives, and surveillance files, believing history can be recovered through facts. What she discovers instead is that history survives not only in records but also in memory, silence, contradiction, and family.
As the circle of her inquiry widens, she learns that inheritance is rarely a single story. More often, it is a conversation carried across generations, unfinished and sometimes unresolved.
Rachel had intended to read only a few pages before bed.
Instead, she found herself awake long after midnight, sitting at her kitchen table with the RCMP file spread before her.
A date caught her attention.
December 26, 1991.
The day the Soviet Union officially ceased to exist.
She imagined her grandfather reading the news.
For David, the collapse was not simply political. It was personal. An entire worldview had fractured before his eyes.
The professor had explained it during one of their earlier conversations.
“For people like your grandfather,” he had said, “socialism wasn’t merely politics. It was a moral framework. When the Soviet Union collapsed, many people felt as though the world itself had lost its bearings.”
Rachel understood that better now.
The file recorded meetings, organizations, speeches, and surveillance reports. It documented where David went and whom he spoke to.
It documented what he did.
It revealed almost nothing about who he was.
One report noted that after a political gathering David had lingered outside the Labour Temple.
The officer’s assessment was brief:
Subject appears contemplative.
Rachel laughed despite herself.
Contemplative.
As though an entire intellectual and emotional universe could be reduced to a single word.
Yet perhaps it was not entirely wrong.
The deeper she read, the more complicated her grandfather became.
He was neither hero nor villain. Not a symbol. Not a stereotype.
He was a man trying to understand history while living through it.
Rachel opened her notebook.
He lived in a country that watched him, loved a country that doubted him, and believed in a world that collapsed beneath him.
For the first time, she felt less like a researcher and more like an inheritor.
The next morning she called the professor.
“You’ve reached the collapse,” he said.
“It feels like an earthquake.”
“It was.”
They spoke about the aftermath of 1991.
Old friendships strained.
Organizations fractured.
Arguments that had once seemed theoretical became deeply personal.
The professor explained that for the Jewish left, and many on the broader left, the Soviet Union’s implosion was more than a geopolitical event. It was a profound ideological shock.
“And my grandfather?”
“He was right in the middle of it.”
After the call ended, Rachel found herself thinking about the people who had filled her grandparents’ home when she was a child.
The endless conversations.
The arguments.
The laughter.
The crowded rooms full of people whose names she barely remembered.
Most of them were gone now.
What she was uncovering was larger than a single life.
She was recovering fragments of an entire vanished community.
The surprise arrived in the file almost by accident.
Buried among routine observations was a note stating that David and his wife had attended a performance at Manitoba Theatre Centre.
The entry was insignificant as intelligence.
For Rachel, it opened an entirely different door.
Politics had dominated every family story about David.
His meetings.
His causes.
His convictions.
But what about her grandmother?
Rachel had always known that she loved theatre, books, music, and literature.
What she had never considered was how completely those interests shaped her life.
For years Rachel had unconsciously treated her grandmother as a supporting figure in David’s story.
Now she began seeing her differently.
As a person.
As someone with her own passions, friendships, and intellectual world.
The deeper Rachel looked, the more similarities emerged between them.
Both believed ideas mattered.
Both loved books.
Both loved theatre.
The difference lay only in where they searched for meaning.
David sought it in politics and public life.
Her grandmother often found it in art, culture, and relationships.
Rachel wrote:
She walked beside his convictions, but she carried a world of her own.
This time she left the sentence untouched.
A few days later Olga came to visit.
Instead of speaking about David, she spoke about her own family.
Her grandparents had survived the Holodomor.
They carried memories of hunger, fear, and state violence.
“My grandparents never celebrated the collapse of the Soviet Union,” Olga said.
Rachel looked surprised.
“They didn’t?”
“No.”
“What did they do?”
Olga smiled sadly.
“They stared.”
Rachel thought immediately of David.
“Like my grandfather.”
“Yes,” Olga said. “But from the other side.”
The words settled heavily between them.
For years Rachel had viewed history through the lens of her own family.
Now she understood something new.
Her grandfather’s hopes had existed alongside someone else’s suffering.
His vision of justice had intersected with experiences he could never fully understand.
Neither reality cancelled the other.
History was not a single inheritance.
It was a collision of inheritances.
Before leaving, Olga reached across the table.
“You aren’t responsible for your grandfather’s beliefs.”
Rachel nodded.
“But you are responsible for understanding them.”
After Olga left, Rachel wrote down those words.
They remained with her for days.
The professor helped her understand another contradiction.
David had been a passionate supporter of Israel’s existence.
At the same time, he had consistently defended Palestinian rights.
“Both?” Rachel asked.
“Both.”
The professor smiled.
“Your grandfather spent much of his life living with contradictions.”
To many people such positions appeared incompatible.
To David they represented a single principle.
Justice could not be divided.
Rachel left the meeting with another realization.
David had spent much of his life refusing easy answers.
Perhaps that was part of what she had inherited.
As she prepared to leave, the professor stopped her.
“This isn’t really about your grandfather anymore.”
Rachel looked up.
“It’s about what his children inherited.”
After a moment he added:
“And what you inherited.”
Rachel did not expect Daniel to become part of the story.
Her younger brother rarely discussed family history.
When he called unexpectedly one evening, she assumed he was simply checking in.
Instead, he surprised her.
“Mom says you’re digging into Grandpa’s past.”
Rachel laughed.
“Word travels fast.”
“It always does.”
What followed was the most honest conversation they had shared in years.
For a long time Rachel had believed Daniel lacked interest in family history.
Now she realized his distance came from uncertainty rather than indifference.
“I remember Grandpa differently,” he told her.
“How?”
“He laughed.”
The answer caught her off guard.
Daniel began describing hockey games, family dinners, jokes, stories, and arguments.
Not the political figure preserved in newspaper clippings and surveillance reports.
A grandfather.
A human being.
“He loved asking questions,” Daniel said.
“And he loved telling stories.”
For the first time, Rachel saw a version of David that no archive could preserve.
Before ending the call, Daniel added something else.
“Grandpa wasn’t nearly as certain as everyone thinks.”
Rachel remained silent.
“He believed things strongly,” Daniel continued. “But he never stopped questioning them.”
The observation changed everything.
The file preserved David’s convictions.
His family preserved his doubts.
Neither version was complete by itself.
Before hanging up, Daniel made a promise.
“When you’re ready, I’ll tell you everything I remember.”
Rachel thanked him.
For the first time, she no longer felt alone in the search.
The following weekend Rachel drove to her parents’ house.
The place felt both familiar and strangely smaller than she remembered.
Photographs lined shelves.
Books crowded every room.
Pieces of family history sat quietly in plain sight.
While looking through old programs and photographs, Rachel began noticing things she had previously overlooked.
Her grandparents had attended theatre performances together.
Commented on books together.
Shared interests she had unconsciously assigned to only one of them.
Their lives overlapped far more than family mythology suggested.
Then her father mentioned something almost casually.
“There might still be some of your grandparents’ papers downstairs.”
A few minutes later Rachel stood in the basement.
The box sat on a shelf.
Its label contained a single word:
DAVID
She lifted the lid.
Inside were photographs, letters, programs, newspaper clippings, address books, and handwritten notes.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing obviously historical.
Simply the fragments of an ordinary life.
Exactly the sort of material institutional history often overlooked.
Her father watched quietly as she examined the contents.
“Did you know all this was here?”
“Mostly.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
He thought for a moment.
Then answered honestly.
“I never thought anyone would ask.”
The response hurt because it was true.
For years nobody had.
Back in her apartment, Rachel spread the contents of the box across her table.
One item stood out immediately.
A sealed envelope.
The handwriting was unmistakably David’s.
The envelope was addressed to Sarah.
Her aunt.
The daughter who had drifted away from the family.
Carefully Rachel opened it.
Inside she found an unsent letter.
At first it read like ordinary correspondence.
Then gradually it became more personal.
More vulnerable.
More uncertain.
One passage stopped her completely.
You believed I cared more about being right than about understanding you.
Perhaps there were times when that was true.
If so, I regret them.
Rachel read the lines again.
This was not the David preserved in family legend.
Nor the David described in surveillance files.
This was a father struggling to understand his own mistakes.
Further down she found another passage.
History can become a dangerous thing inside a family.
People begin arguing with symbols instead of people.
Before long, nobody remembers how to listen.
Rachel lowered the page.
The words felt painfully honest.
Not political.
Human.
When she finally reached the end, she found something even more powerful.
The final paragraph was unfinished.
It ended with a single incomplete sentence.
If there is one thing I hope you understand, it is that I never wanted disagreement to become distance. A family should be large enough to contain different truths. If I failed you, it was not because I loved my ideas more than my daughter. It was because…
Nothing followed.
No explanation.
No signature.
Only blank space.
Rachel stared at the unfinished sentence for a long time.
At first she felt disappointed.
Then she realized its incompleteness carried its own truth.
Life rarely supplied neat endings.
Letters remained unsent.
Conversations stopped.
Questions survived.
That night Rachel stood by her apartment window looking out across the city.
She thought about the RCMP file.
The professor.
Olga.
Daniel.
Her grandmother.
The box.
The letter.
Government archives had preserved David the activist.
Family memory had preserved David the husband, father, grandfather, friend, and neighbour.
Neither archive was complete.
Together they came closer to truth.
Rachel opened her notebook one final time.
She wrote:
Every archive contains missing pages. Every family does too.
Then she closed the notebook.
For months she had searched for her grandfather.
Now she understood something new.
The story no longer belonged solely to David.
It belonged to the people who inherited him.
Her father.
Daniel.
Sarah.
And perhaps herself.
The next answers would not be found in government files.
They would be found inside the family.
Rachel switched off the light.
The letter remained on the table.
Waiting.
So did the rest of the story.
To Be Concluded in Part Four: The Red Inheritance
About the Author
H.C. Piloski lives among unfinished sentences.
