Features
My transitions in Jewish education
By PHYLLIS LIPSON DANA From 1941 until 1945 I lived on Mountain and Aikins and was a student from Kindergarten to Grade 4 at the Folk School, located in a 3 storey house at the corner of St Johns and Charles.
In my final year there the school merged with the I L Peretz School, which was then located in a large building on Aberdeen just west of Salter. We had moved to a house on Lansdowne Avenue east of Main so I attended Luxton School by day and went to Peretz evening classes for two years. By then our family had joined the Shaarey Zedek on Dagmar Street, so I continued my Jewish education there at the Sunday School, and began to sing with the synagogue choir.
As I recall, the Folk School had a strong Zionist perspective. Many older students were members of Habonim, which met in the building. There was emphasis on the land of Israel, though the Jewish curriculum was taught mostly in Yiddish, focusing upon language, with a little bit of Hebrew being taught, and there was a significant celebration of Jewish holidays and festivals. I retain many happy memories of my years there. The school population was quite small. In my class were only nine students (Pearl Ash, Elliot Berman, Victor Chernick, Ronald Ganetsky, Sheila Naimark, Hersh Shapera, Barbara Sherebrin, Shirley Schicher, and myself). I can’t find any class pictures but I do have a picture of our kindergarten teacher, Esther Prasso sitting on the school’s steps. Other teachers I remember were Miss Bulstein (who became Mary Yukelis), Miss Kranis (who became Yetta Grysman), Mr. Lapin, Mr. Zeitlin, and Mr. Cantor (who became the principal when the merger occurred.
Since I was no older than nine when the schools merged, I had no idea at the time why the change had taken place. In retrospect, however, I do remember my mother more than once assembling items from home to donate to the “rummage sale” to raise money to buy coal. I suppose that the larger economic base of the Peretz “shool Mispoche” allowed the smaller school to continue in some form. Peretz was secular in philosophy and there were no actual prayers as part of the curriculum in the early grades when I attended. Bible studies were presented as historia (Jewish history) and, although the holiday celebrations were important, I don’t remember any mention of God in the commemorations. However, there were High Holiday services taking place in the school’s basement, which featured my Zaida Nate Lifshitz as one of the cantors. I remember a huge celebration of the end of World War II for which we were transported to the Peretz building for an assembly.
At the Shaarey Zedek I was exposed to a totally different view of Jewish education. Hebrew language was taught through the prayers, and the Bible studies definitely focused on the miracles attached to many celebrations which gave the credit where it was due. At 11 I joined the choir, so of course that meant that I became familiar with the order of Friday evening services and holidays. The synagogue on Wellington Crescent was opened in 1950 and when a junior choir was formed I was required by the choir master, Jack Garland, to join. We performed at Saturday morning services for many years. My parents were regular attendees and my brother became a frequent Torah reader there. I continued in the Shaarey Zedek choir for many years as I married and had two children.
When each of our children were five years old, I truly believed that they were the perfect age. In my experience children at five were adventurous, inquisitive, totally honest, highly sociable, and eager to learn. I had begun taking upgrading classes with the goal of going into Education at university, when Fay Zipman asked me if I would be interested in assisting her in her four-year-old class at Peretz School on Jefferson. I met the principal and he decided to give me a chance. The year was 1965-66 and my career was launched. Fay left teaching a year after I joined her, so I assisted Sara Green until 1969, when she moved to Vancouver.
That fall I began as the Nursery teacher and I was to assist in the kindergarten; the teacher with whom I had been working was needed to take on another class, so I was upgraded to Kindergarten teacher, learning the curriculum at night while I taught all day. I was also continuing my university education at night. The Peretz atmosphere was very family oriented with a strongly Jewish cultural approach. There were many evening gatherings with music, plays, and lectures primarily in Yiddish and always highlighting student performances. While “Shabbes” celebrations were held in the classrooms, with candles, challah and juice distributed, there were no prayers chanted. Students were taught the Hebrew language, but synagogue skills were not part of the curriculum. Some boys had Bar Mitzvahs, but many did not, and initially I never heard of girls becoming “Bat Mitzvah”. Over time the Ashkenazi pronunciations of Hebrew words was replaced by the more modern one and there was a strong focus upon Israel in celebration and song. Little by little Brachot were coming into the Friday candle-and-challah gatherings in classrooms. It seemed that most students were becoming Bar Mitzvah and some girls celebrated Bat Mitzvot.
For many years many kindergarten students rushed home for lunch and then proceeded to their neighborhood schools to attend afternoon kindergarten classes. TV did not provide much stimulation for children in the afternoon and our winters can be very cold. Over the years I met many public school teachers who complained that kids would frequently tell them they had done “that” in their morning school. In the school year 1976-77 an all-day kindergarten was begun at Peretz School and I had the privilege of initiating this concept. Soon other schools incorporated these classes as well.
In the early 80s a number of parents prevailed upon Seven Oaks School Division to begin providing a Hebrew-bilingual program. When it was implemented, registration at the north-end Jewish schools declined…there was no fee at public schools. At the same time the Board of Jewish Education was formed and when, by 1983 – as our school numbers were steadily decreasing (I had a class of only eight children that year), there was a strong movement to merge the I L Peretz Folk School with Talmud Torah.
As anticipated by the smaller school’s most loyal supporters, the Yiddish component of the curriculum became reduced over time to an occasional song being taught and “optional” Yiddish language classes being offered. The teaching of synagogue skills and assemblies in the synagogue were a major component of the Judaic curriculum as well as Hebrew language, reading and writing skills and a strong emphasis upon the land of Israel. As happened with the merger of the Folk Shul with Peretz, the larger school ideology swallowed the smaller. With the burden of teaching full-time, going to university part time, and looking after my family, I had left the Shaarey Zedek choir. Over time I sang for several years in the Rosh Pina choir and in later years with the Temple Shalom choir for High Holiday services.
I have wonderful memories of my more than 30 years teaching in the Jewish day schools, and a photo album full of pictures of most of my classes. Having visited other schools over time to observe teachers and programs, I was glad to notice that the vast majority loved children and were happy to be in kindergarten. The odd time I encountered teachers who were in the wrong place, having little patience for their students and obviously wishing they were in a higher grade. Most teachers of early childhood try to convey a feeling that “school is a happy and safe place where I can succeed”. I hope that children I have taught felt that way in my classrooms.
Ed. note: I had asked Phyllis to send me as many class pictures from her time at Peretz School as she could. She was able to send me eight pictures in total.
Features
History of a Holocaust Survivor Turning Eighty
By HENRY SREBRNIK On July 19, I turn 80 years old. This is indeed a milestone, but for me, an even bigger one was just being born. My parents were Holocaust survivors, and I found out just a few months ago that, technically, so am I. My parents were from Czestochowa, Poland, where I was born in 1945. By 1943 most Jews in the city, including their own families, had been murdered by the Nazis, at Treblinka, and after the uprising in the Jewish ghetto, my parents, by now married, became slave labour in a major Nazi munitions plant, the HASAG-Pelcery concentration camp, in the city.
The Russian army liberated Czestochowa January 16-17, 1945, and I was born July 19, six months later. You can do the math. My mother was emaciated and didn’t even know she was pregnant, but another month, and it would have been obvious, and she would have been killed. (I never asked how this happened but found out when listening to her testimony for the Shoah Foundation in 1995. The men and women were housed in different barracks, but one night the Germans were delousing one of the buildings and allowed married couples to sleep together in the other.)
In 1945 the 9th of Av fell on July 19, and the Jewish world had just gone through our worst period in history. I was born in a makeshift hospital at the Jasna Gora, the famed Pauline Catholic monastery in the city. The actual city hospital had been destroyed in the fighting. It is home to the Matka Boska Czestochowska, (“the mother of God”), a very beautiful and large icon of Mary and the baby Jesus. Other women giving birth were surprised and one said, “Ona jest Zydowka” (She’s a Jew). So, though I am a proud Polish Jew, this could only have helped! The doctor who delivered whispered to my mother that he was Jewish but added that he wanted it kept quiet because he wasn’t going to leave Poland. It also took awhile for a mohel to come to the city for me.
The next few years were spent in Pocking-Waldstadt, a DP camp in the American zone in Bavaria, Germany, and then on to Pier 21 in Halifax and Canada. We lived in Montreal, though at home we were to all intents and purposes in Czestochowa, Jewish Poland.
As I was packing up my books in May because we all had to vacate our offices for the summer due to repairs in our building, I came across a book that I had never read – I don’t even recall where I got it — by the Polish historian Lucjan Dobroszycki, Survivors of the Holocaust in Poland: A Portrait Based on Jewish Community Records 1944-1947 (Armonk, New York: M.E. Sharpe, 1994). Chapter 5 is comprised of “Lists of Jewish Children Who Survived,” in alphabetical order. I am listed on p. 146 (Heniek Srebrnik, 1945). I sent in a form to the Claims Conference in New York informing them. So, at age 80, I’ve become a Holocaust survivor! Compared to that start, the next decades have been easy street! As the Aussies say, “no worries! But the Jewish world has grown darker. Like many others, were I to write a memoir, I’d call it From Hitler to Hamas.
I grew up in Montreal, and have lived in Calgary and Charlottetown, as well as London, England, and four American cities. But I’ve only been to Winnipeg twice, in 1982 and, more dramatically, the weekend of Sept. 7-10, 2001. I presented a paper on “Birobidzhan on the Prairies: Two Decades of Pro-Soviet Jewish Movements in Winnipeg,” to a conference on “Jewish Radicalism in Winnipeg, 1905-1960,” organized by the Jewish Heritage Centre of Western Canada. I left the morning of Sept. 11. An hour into the flight to Toronto we were told all airplanes had to land at the nearest major airport. I spent the next three days in Sault Ste. Marie, Ont., with fellow passengers. We mostly watched the television reporting on the 9/11 catastrophe.
Though an academic, I have always written for newspapers, including Jewish ones, in Canada and the United States. Some, like the Jewish Free Press of Calgary, the Jewish Tribune of Toronto, and the previous version of the Canadian Jewish News, no longer exist, which is a shame. Fortunately, the Jewish Post still does.
Henry Srebrnik is a professor of political science at the University of Prince Edward Island.
Features
Why Prepaid Cards Are the Last Refuge for Online Privacy in 2025
These days, it feels like no matter what you do online, someone’s watching. Shopping, streaming, betting, even signing up for something free—it’s all tracked. Everything you pay for with a normal card leaves a digital trail with your name on it. And in 2025, when we’re deep into a cashless economy, keeping anything private is getting harder by the day.
If you’re the kind of person who doesn’t want every little move tied to your identity, prepaid cards are one of the only real options left. They’re simple, easy to get, and still give you a way to spend online without throwing your info out there. One card in particular, Vanilla Visa, is one of the better picks because of how widely Vanilla Visa is accepted and how little personal info it needs.
Everything’s Online, and Everything’s Tracked
We used to pay for stuff with cash. Walk into a store, hand over some bills, leave. No names, no records. That’s gone now. Most stores won’t even take cash anymore, and the ones that do feel like the exception. The cashless economy is here whether we like it or not.
So what’s the problem? Every time you swipe or tap your card, or pay with your phone, someone’s logging it. Your bank saves the details. The store’s system saves it. And a lot of times, that data gets sold or shared. It can get used to target you with ads, track what you buy, where you go, and when you do it.
It’s not just companies either. Apps collect it. Hackers try to steal it. Some governments keep tabs too. And if you’re using the same card everywhere, it all gets connected pretty fast.
Why Prepaid Cards Still Matter
Prepaid cards are one of the only ways to break that chain. You go to a store, buy one with cash, and that’s it. No bank involved. No name. You just load it up and use it. And because Vanilla Visa is accepted on most major websites, you can use it just like any normal card.
You’re not giving out your real name or tying it to your main account. That means when you pay for something, it’s not showing up on your bank statement. It’s not getting saved under your profile. You’re basically cutting off the trail right there.
Why Vanilla Visa Stands Out
There are a few different prepaid card brands out there, but Vanilla Visa is probably the most popular. You can grab one at grocery stores, gas stations, pharmacies—almost anywhere. And once you’ve got it, you can use it on pretty much any site where Vanilla Visa is accepted.
No long setup. No personal info. You don’t need to register it under your name. You just pay, go online, and spend the amount that’s on the card. When it runs out, you toss it and move on. No trace.
This makes it great for anyone who wants to sign up for a site without attaching their real identity. People use it for online gaming, streaming, subscriptions, or just shopping without giving out their main card info.
The Good and the Bad
There are some solid upsides to using a prepaid card:
- You don’t need a bank account
- You don’t give out your name or address
- It’s easy to budget since you can’t spend more than you loaded
- Most major sites take them, especially where Vanilla Visa is accepted
But there are a few downsides too:
- You can’t reload the card. Once it’s empty, it’s done
- You can’t use it to get money out, like at an ATM
- Some cards have small fees or expiration dates, so don’t let them sit too long
- A few sites want a card tied to a name and billing address, which doesn’t work here
- If you lose it or someone steals the number, you’re probably not getting the money back
So yeah, prepaid cards aren’t perfect. But if privacy is the goal, they’re still one of the few things that actually help.
Real Ways People Use Them
Let’s say you’re trying out an online casino. You don’t want your bank seeing it. You don’t want it on your statement. You walk into a Walgreens, buy a Vanilla Visa with a hundred bucks in cash, then use it to make your deposit. Done. The casino sees a card, but not your name.
Or maybe you’re signing up for a new subscription. Could be a video platform, a magazine, whatever. You don’t want it auto-charging your main card every month or sharing your info with advertisers. Use a prepaid card, and it stays off the radar.
Even if you’re just buying something from a site you don’t totally trust, using a card that isn’t tied to your real money is a smart move.
Will These Cards Still Be Around?
That’s the thing people are starting to worry about. Some stores have started asking for ID when you buy higher-value prepaid cards. And there’s talk in some countries about requiring people to register cards before using them.
Governments don’t like anonymous money. Companies definitely don’t. There’s a chance that in the future, prepaid cards will be harder to get or come with new rules.
But for now, they still work. You can still walk into a store with cash and walk out with a prepaid card. And as long as Vanilla Visa is accepted at the places you shop, you’ve got a way to stay private.
Bottom Line
If you’re living in 2025 and trying to protect your privacy online, prepaid cards are one of the last easy options. The cashless economy makes it almost impossible to pay without leaving a record, but prepaid cards break that pattern. They don’t ask for your name. They don’t track your habits. And they don’t leave a trail if you use them right.
They won’t fix everything. They don’t keep you completely invisible. But they give you a level of control that’s hard to find now. In a world that wants to watch your every move, that still counts for something.
Features
Winkler nurse stands with Israel and the Jewish people
By MYRON LOVE Considering the great increase in anti-Semitic incidents in Canada over the past 20 months – and the passivity of government, federally, provincially and municipally, in the face of this what-should-be unacceptable criminal behaviour, many in our Jewish community may feel that we have been abandoned by our fellow citizens.
Polls regularly show that as many as 70% of Canadians support Israel – and there are many who have taken action. One such individual is Nelli Gerzen, a nurse at the Boundary Trails Health Centre (which serves the communities of Winkler and Morden in western Manitoba). Three times in the past 20 months, Gerzen has taken time off work to travel to Israel to support Israelis in their time of need.
I asked her what those around her thought of her trips to Israel. “My mother was worried when I went the first time (November 2023),” Gerzen responded, “but, like me, she has trust in the Lord. My friends and colleagues have gotten used to it.”
She also reports that she is part of a small group of fellow believers that meet online regularly and pray for Israel.
Gerzen is originally from Russia, but grew up in Germany. Her earliest exposure to the history of the Holocaust, she relates, was in Grade 9 – in Germany. “My history teacher in Germany in Grade 9 went into depth with the history of World War II and the Holocaust,” she recalls. “It is normal that all the teachers taught about the Holocaust but she put a lot of effort into teaching specifically this topic. We also got to watch a live interview with a Holocaust survivor.”
What she learned made a strong impression on her. “I have often asked myself what I would do if I were living in that era,” she says. “Would I have been willing to hide Jews in my home? Or risk my life to save others?”
Gerzen came to Canada in 2010 – at the age of 20. She received her nursing training here and has been working at Boundary Trails for the last three years.
“I believe in the G-d of Israel and that the Jews are his Chosen People,” she states. “We are living at a time of skyrocketing anti-Semitism. Many Jews are feeling vulnerable. I felt that I had to do something to help.”
Gerzen’s first trip to Israel was actually in 2014 when she signed onto a youth tour organized by a Christian group, Midnight Call, based in Switzerland. That initial visit left a strong impact. “That first visit changed my life,” she remembers. “I enjoyed having conversations with the Israelis. The bible for me came to life. Every stone seemed to have a story.”
She went on a second Midnight Call Missionaries tour of Israel in 2018. She went back again on her own in the spring of 2023. After October 7, she says, “I couldn’t sit at home. I had to do something.”
Thus, in November 2023, she went back to Israel, this time as a volunteer. She spent two weeks at Petach Tikvah cooking meals for Israelis displaced from the north and the south as well as IDF soldiers. She also spent a day with an Israeli friend delivering food to IDF soldiers stationed near Gaza. She notes that she wasn’t worried so close to the border.
“I trusted in the Lord,” she says. “It was a special feeling being able to help.”
Last November, she found herself at Kiryat Shmona (with whom our Jewish community has close ties), working for two weeks alongside volunteers from all over the world cooking for the IDF.
On one of her earlier visits, she recounts, a missile struck just a few metres from the kitchen where the volunteers were working. There was some damage – forcing closure for a few days while repairs were ongoing, but no injuries.
In January, she was back at Kiryat Shmona for another two weeks cooking for the IDF. She also helped deliver food to Metula on the northern border. This last time, she reports, there was a more upbeat atmosphere, “even though,” she notes, “the wounds are still fresh. It was quieter. There were no more missiles coming in.
“Israelis were really touched by the presence of so many of us volunteers. I only wish more Christians would stand up for Israel.
“It was really moving to hear people’s stories first-hand.”
She recounts the story of one Israeli she met at a Jerusalem market who fought in the Yom Kippur war of 1973, who was the only survivor of the tank he was in.
“This guy lost so much in his life, and he was standing there telling the story and smiling, just trying to live life again,” she says. “The people there are so heartbroken.”
Back home, she has been showing her support for Israel and the Jewish people by attending the weekly rallies on Kenaston in support of the hostages whenever she can.
She is looking forward to playing piano at Shalom Square during Folklorama.
Nelli Gerzen doesn’t know yet when she will be returning to Israel – but it is certain to be soon. “This is my chance to step up for the truth,” she concludes. “I know that supporting Israel is the right thing to do. When I am there, it feels like my heart is on fire.”