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Women’s Endowment Fund celebrates 50 years of giving

Women who spoke at the Jewish Foundation Women's Endowment evening (Read the names of all the speakers in the article.)

By MYRON LOVE For the past 30 years, the Jewish Foundation of Manitoba’s Women’s Endowment Fund (WEF) has been giving back to the community.  It has been the tradition of the foundation over these last many years to host an annual fundraising luncheon in the spring.
This year, however, in a departure from past practice – and in celebration of this most significant anniversary –  the foundation – instead of a lunch, decided to give back to the givers by hosting a social evening for the founders, long time supporters, former and current  committee members of the Women’s Endowment Fund.
On Thursday, May 9, about 100 women gathered at the Pavillion at Assiniboine Park for a short program of speeches and an evening of shmoozing and reminiscing over a light meal and refreshments.

Speakers at the Jewish Foundation Womern’s Endowment evening
front row (l-r): Katie Hall Hursh – Board Member, Health Sciences Centre Foundation, Lt. Governor Anita Neville, Tessa Blaikie Whitecloud – CEO, Siloam Mission
back row (l-r): Dr. Sharon Goszer-Tritt – JFM Board Member, Chair of the Women’s Endowment Fund Grants Committee, Chloë McComb – JFM Board Member, Former Chair of the Women’s Endowment Fund Grants Committee, Women’s Endowment Fund Builder (2013), Karyn Lazareck – Former JFM Board Member, Women’s Endowment Fund Founder (1994) and Builder (2013), Leah Leibl – Emcee, Women’s Endowment Fund Grants Committee Member, Becky Chisick – Executive Director, Gwen Secter Creative Living Centre


The formal part of the evening began with congratulations and comments from Lieutenant-Governor, Anita Neville, a long time Jewish Foundation supporter, who commented on the impact of the WEF on women and girls across Canada. 
“The power of giving is so important,” she said.  ‘The Women’s Endowment Fund brings together women in our Jewish community with a  shared passion for giving back.  Congratulations to all of you who continue to contribute to our community.”
Karyn Lazareck was among the founding members of the Women’s Endowment Fund.   “As we mark the 30th anniversary, I am reminded of the incredible journey that we have embarked upon,” she said.
“Back in1994, when we first conceived of the Women’s Endowment Fund,  we were driven by a desire to make a difference,” she recalled.  “We were inspired by the words of former Winnipegger Susan Weidman Schneider, the editor of Lilith Magazine, who challenged us to confront the historical lack of collective support among women for women’s causes. We set out to reshape the philanthropic landscape in Manitoba.”
Lazareck described “a diverse group of volunteers, from various organizations, united by a common goal to develop a space where women could make their own philanthropic choices.
“With the support of the Jewish Foundation,” she continued, “we paved a pathway to independence, establishing a women’s endowment fund driven entirely by women for women.”
The first challenge, she recalled, was raising the initial $5,000.  The initial requirement for the 50 founding members was $100 donation.
“We exceeded our target,” she recounted. “We were able to launch our endowment with $21,000 from 148 women.
“It took time for the concept of building an endowment to gain traction, but we persisted, buoyed by the unwavering support of the foundation and our growing community of women.”   
As to the state of the fund today, Dr. Sharon Goszer-Tritt, the Chair of the Women’s Endowment Fund grants committee, reported that the fund currently stands at over $2.2 million  “That $1,000 in grants that we were able to distribute in our first year has now reached more than  $101,000 a year,” she noted. “Our new goal is to grow the fund to $3 million and, from what we have seen already, I feel optimistic that we will do so.”
In illustrating the range of organizations – both in the Jewish and general communities, that the fund contributes to, Goszer-Tritt introduced  representatives of three of those recipient organizations to speak about the impact the WEF donations have had on their operations.  Among the three were: The Jewish Post’s new publisher, Becky Chisick, in her concurrent  role as executive director of the Gwen Secter Creative Living Centre;  Tessa Blaikie Whitecloud,  Siloam Mission’s Chief Executive Officer; and Katie Hall Hursh,  a member of the board of directors of the Health Sciences Centre Foundation.
Hursh spoke at some length spoke about the HSC’s  new laparoscopic surgery  capabilitiy – partially funded by a grant from the Women’s Endowment Fund – which allows for much more rapid recovery from surgeries such as treatment for endometriosis, which effects the uterus – causing pain and making it more difficult for a woman to get pregnant. The laparoscopic equipment is one benefit of the HSCF current campaign to acquire new technology and state-of-the-art equipment to use in emergency gynecological surgeries at the Women’s Hospital.
Tessa Blaikie Whitecloud spoke of the work of Siloam Mission in building social housing. She also thanked the Women’s Endowment Fund for a grant to Siloam to buy new women’s undergarments and feminine hygiene products.
Becky Chisick related that the Gwen Secter Centre received a grant from the fund to pay for CPR and First Aid courses designed especially for older women.
She also spoke about the positive impact of Gwen Secter programming on seniors in our community.
Representing the younger generation of Women’s Endowment fund committee members was Chloe McComb, daughter-in-law of founder Karyn Lazareck.  McComb, who is also now also a member of the Jewish Foundation’s Board of Directors, spoke about how inspiring she has found it to be a part of the community of female philanthropists – and of being a witness to the “remarkable growth and impact” of the Women’s Endowment Fund.  
McComb noted that, from her perspective as a member of the grants committee, she has seen firsthand the persistent need for funding. “One common challenge that we have come across has been the need for funding for ongoing initiatives,” she said.  “In particular, small non-profits with very specific needs were not able to apply for funding because the WEF, like many other granting agencies, only provide one-time funding.
“I am happy tonight to share that we have changed our granting criteria to ensure that support remains available for those who need it. By allowing organizations to apply for grants for ongoing programs, we ensure that organizations in Manitoba supporting women and girls always have a place to go.”
The final word went to Karyn Lazareck.
“The Women’s Endowment Fund,” she observed,” symbolizes a shift in mindset, a departure from the status quo.  And, as we look to the future, let us remember that the fund is inclusive of all women.  While it may have been initiated by a group of Jewish women, its scope knows no bounds.  It is a place for all women who seek to give back to their community and uplift the lives of women and children.
“Our Fund is a testament to the power of collective action and a beacon of hope for future generations of women in Manitoba.”

Features

I Speak “Jew”

Morrocan Jewish fish dish

By MARK E. PAULL I grew up in Montreal. Born in 1956. Anglo by birth, sure. But that never quite fit. I don’t speak “Anglo” the way they mean it. My real language is Jew.
And I don’t mean Hebrew or Yiddish. I mean the language of reading the room before you enter it. The code-switching, shame-dodging, laugh-first-so-they-don’t-pounce dialect we pick up early. It’s a language built on side-eyes and timing and ten generations of tension.
I speak French—enough to make myself understood. Enough to charm a dinner table, crack a joke, get someone’s uncle to nod. I’m not fluent, but I’m fast. Doesn’t matter. In Quebec, language isn’t grammar—it’s inheritance. It’s who your grandfather cursed out in a hardware store.
To the Francophones, I’ll never be one of them. My accent betrays me before I say a word. I’m just an Anglo. And not even that, really. Because when the lens tightens, when they look closely, I’m just un Juif. Just a Jew.
And to the Anglos? Same thing. I can wear the suit, speak the Queen’s English, order the wine properly—still a Jew. Even in rooms where I “pass,” I don’t belong. I’m not invited in to be myself. I’m invited in to behave. To be safe. To not say the thing that makes the air stiff.
We’re the only people still called by our religion. No one says “Orthodox” for a Greek. No one says “Vatican” for an Italian. No one calls a Black man “Baptist” before they see his face. But “Jew”? That sticks. That’s the label. Before passport. Before language. Before hello.
I’ve mostly made peace with that. But there’s still this ache—knowing you can live your whole life in a place and never really be from there.
Let me tell you a story.
We had this block party once—the folding-table, paper-plate kind. Kids zipping by on scooters. Music low. Everyone asked to bring something from “your culture.”
The Greek guy brought lemon potatoes and lamb—felt like it came with a side of Byzantine history. The Italians brought two lasagnas—meat and veggie—with basil placed like confetti. The Vietnamese couple brought shrimp rolls that vanished before they hit the table. Even the German guy—built like a fridge—brought bratwurst and a six-pack with gothic lettering.
And then us.
My partner made Moroccan fish. Her grandmother’s recipe. Red with tomatoes, garlic, cumin. Studded with olives and preserved lemon. I brought a bottle of white wine. Dry. Crisp. From the Golan Heights. Not Manischewitz. Not even close.
We laid it out. Someone leaned over: “Moroccan? But I thought you were Jewish.”
We smiled. “We are.”
Then: “So… where’s the brisket? Isn’t Jewish wine supposed to be sweet?”
That’s when it hits you. No matter how long you’ve lived here, how many snowstorms you’ve shoveled through, you’re still explaining yourself. Still translating your presence.
Because they don’t know. They don’t know Jews came from everywhere. That “Jewish” isn’t one dish—it’s a whole map. That we had Jews in Morocco before there was even a France. That some of us grew up on kreplach, some on kefta. That some of our mothers sang in Yiddish, others in Arabic, and some in both—depending on who was knocking.
They don’t know. And worse—they don’t ask.
And that’s the part that gets you. Not the slurs. Not the graffiti. Not even the occasional muttered cliché. It’s the blankness. The shrug. The image they already have of you that’s built out of dreidels and sitcoms.
“Jewish” as nostalgic. As novelty. Something they saw once on a bagel.
Sometimes, when those questions come, I float. One version of me walks out. Another turns into a mouse. One turns into a Frisbee. Just gone. Not mad. Just tired.
Because being a Jew isn’t cute. It’s not nostalgic.
It’s ancient.
Before Montreal.
Before France.
Before Poland. Before Spain.
Before pogroms.
Before ghettos.
Before Hitler.
Before even the word Europe.
We were there.
Go back to the 5th century. 2nd century.
Go back to Jesus—our kid, by the way.
Go further—Babylon. Persia.
Keep going—Temple. Exile. Wandering.
And still, after all that, I’m at a table in Quebec explaining why our fish has cumin in it.
It’s almost funny. If it didn’t wear you down a little.
I’m not looking for pity. This isn’t a complaint.
I’m proud. I know what I carry. I walk into any room with five thousand years behind me. I come from people who kept the lights on through every kind of darkness—and laughed through it, too.
But sometimes, I just wish I didn’t have to explain so much.
All I want is to put down my dish…
…and hear someone say:
“That smells amazing. Tell me the story.”

That’s all.


Mark E. Paull, C.A.C. is a Certified ADHD Coach – IPHM, CMA, IIC&M, CPD Certified
Writer | Lived-Experience Advocate | Type 1 Diabetic since 1967

He has been published in:
The New York Times, The Globe and Mail, Folklife Magazine, Times of Israel, CHADD’s Attention Magazine, The Good Men Project

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Features

At 104, Besse Gurevich last original resident of Shaftesbury Park Retirement Residence

By MYRON LOVE At 104, Besse Gurevich is the last of the original residents of Shaftesbury Park Retirement Residence. She may also be the oldest member of our Jewish community.
Although her vision and her hearing have diminished considerably, her mind and memory are still intact.  A few weeks back, this writer sat down with her in her suite as she recalled a life filled with highs and lows and her many  contributions to her community, both in Winnipeg and Fort William before that.
The daughter of Jack and Rebecca Avit, her life’s journey began in 1921 in a home on Carlton Street near Ellice Avenue, near her father’s furniture store.  He later operated a cap factory.
When she was ten, the family – she had two brothers and a sister – moved to Manitoba Avenue in the old North End. “My father had put a deposit down on a house on Scotia,” she recalls.  “But my parents didn’t feel that the neighbourhood was Jewish enough.”
Her schooling included Peretz School and, like so many of her generation, St. John’s Tech (as it was known back then.)  “I was actually supposed to be going to Isaac Newton for high school,” she says.  We were living on the wrong side of the tracks for St. John’s.  After one day at Isaac Newton, I found a way to transfer to St. John’s.”
In 1940, 19-year-old Bessie Avit married Jack Gurevich, a young man from Fort William.  The wedding was marred though, by the sudden, untimely passing of her father.
Following the wedding, Besse moved with her new husband to Fort William where Jack Gurevich worked in retail clothing sales.  “We lived in Fort William for 20 years,” she says.  “Our three children (Judy, Richard and Howard) were born there.”
She recalls that there were about 200 Jewish families – including her sister and one of her brothers for some years – in town, during the time she lived there. “We were very well known in the community,” she recalls. “I was involved in everything.”
Her community activism continued after the family’s return to her home town. While Jack went to work as a salesman for Western Glove Works, Besse became an indefatigable community volunteer. At one time or another, she served as vice-president of ORT, Hadassah and National Council of Jewish Women in Winnipeg. She was also a long time B’nai Brith member.
In the business world, the highlight of her career was the building of Linden Woods.  “I became involved in real estate development for a time,” she recalls. “I was hired by Genstar to develop Linden Woods.  The company estimated that it would take about 20 years to complete.  I got it done in two.”
She also taught hair dressing for a while. “I worked with many young Jewish brides,” she says.
Recent years have not been kind to Besse Gurevich. Her beloved husband, Jack, died in 2016 – after almost 65 years of marriage.  Older son, Richard, passed away in Vancouver in 2018 and, most recently –six months ago – younger son, Howard, followed.  She notes that there were 200 mourners at Howard’s funeral.
(Howard Gurevich was in marketing for many years before turning his talents to the art world. In recent years, he was best known for Gurevich Fine Art in the Exchange District and his support of local artists.)
Besse Gurevich celebrated her 100th birthday – which took place at the height of the Covid shutdown – quietly. 
While she used to enjoy reading. she is unable to do so any more. She can still listen to television.
And while she has few family members to visit her any more, she does have a group of friends interesting enough from the local theatre scene.  For many years, she was a close friend of the late Doreen Brownstone, one of the leading figures in theatre in Winnipeg for more than half a century.  Besse became part of the group that would visit Doreen every week and, since Doreen passed on three years ago, the members of the group have continued to visit Besse on a weekly basis.  

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Features

Winnipeg author’s first novel gripping tale of romance, action and intrigue, set in 15th century Spain and Morocco

“The Chronos of Andalucia” author Merom Toledano

By MYRON LOVE “The Chronos of Andalucia”, a novel just released by first-time author Merom Toledano, is a historical romance set in late 15th century Spain and Morocco, filled with passion, action, intrigue, unexpected twists and turns – and, of course, with the requirement of any medieval story – a quest.
The easy-to-read, 190 page book follows the adventures of Catalina, a young woman living by her wits on the streets of Granada in the year 1487, (just after the Christian armies of Ferdinand and Isabella had recaptured all of Spain from the Moors) – while trying to evade the agents of the Inquisition, who had murdered her Jewish mother and Christian father 10 years earlier.  She was left with an insatiable desire to learn about astronomy, along with a mysterious map and an astrolabe (an instrument formerly used to make astronomical measurements) – the importance of which will only be unveiled if she can get to the city of Tangier in Morocco.
Early on, there is a reference to Abraham Zacuto, a prominent Spanish rabbi famed for his knowledge of astronomy and astrology.
The action begins when she has a casual interaction with a former Spanish soldier, Diego.  When the forces of the Inquisition approach, she flees with the soldier – who is also her love interest – and who helps her to escape.  They turn for help to a childhood friend of Catalina’s – Roberta, a nun, who helps them on their perilous  journey to Tangier – a journey that includes being captured by pirates, surviving a shipwreck, being separated for a long period of time and, of course, finding each other again and realizing the success of their joint quest.
In his writing, the author paints vivid word pictures of the different characters and beautifully invokes the colour, sights, sounds and scents of the time and the places. 
What I found truly remarkable about the writing of “The Chronos of Andalucia” is that English is not Merom  Toledano’s first language.  The Israeli-born author – he grew up near Haifa – came to Winnipeg with his young family just eight years ago.
“I have had this book in mind for several years now,” says the satellite engineer whose working career takes him to many different parts of the world. 
He notes that he has always felt a connection to Spain, Spanish music and literature – a reflection of his family’s modern origins in that country.  His great-grandparents, he relates, lived in Toledo – hence the family name, Toledano.  His parents lived in Meknes in Morocco while his father attended university in Tangier before making aliyah.
Toledano just published “The Chronos of Andalucia” in April on Amazon. He reports that the book – which is available here at McNally Robinson – has been selling well –close to 100 copies – with orders coming from a bookstore chain in England, a bookstore in Denmark, and one in Italy.
“I have had between 30 and 40 positive reviews so far,” he reports.
Toledano adds that he envisages “The Chronos of Andalucia” to be the first in a series – a la the writer Danielle Steele.  He is already working on a sequel – which is hinted at the end of “The Chronos” and, he reports, he is establishing his own independent publishing operation.        

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