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Humans of Heller High: What nine teens learned on an immersive program in Israel
This article was produced as part of JTA’s Teen Journalism Fellowship, a program that works with teens across the world to report on issues that impact their lives.
(JTA) — After nearly two years of hybrid learning at school, some students couldn’t wait to get back in the classroom full-time. For some teens that meant flying thousands of miles to attend the immersive program at Heller High School in Israel in the Fall of 2022.
This fall, 18 students left home to experience life as students in Israel. Living together, taking classes as a group, and going on field trips with each other, students have to learn how to experience life on their own away from home in addition to a general studies class load that includes Jewish history and Hebrew.
Heller was created to give “Reform youth an opportunity to strengthen through learning and experience, their connection to Judaism, the Jewish people, and the Jewish state,” said David Solomon, associate principal. The curriculum focuses on field trips and immersion learning. Heller High takes place in Israel. The fall semester lasts from August through December and the spring semester lasts from January through May. Students that are Sophomores, Juniors, and Seniors can attend Heller and can stay from a semester up to a year.
In this photo gallery, students talk about their experiences and struggles with the program along with how they are coping with the changes around them.
Changing it up
Flora Pelton, left, 15, 10th grade, from Falls Church, Virginia. (Courtesy of Flora Pelton)
“Before this semester, everything in my life was very familiar; I had lived in the same house, gone to the same schools, and been a member of the same congregation my whole life. Israel was a way for me to get new experiences outside of a small-town American lifestyle. I have become friends with so many new people from different places around the world. I enjoy being able to go to school but still go on so many trips and adventures. I learned how to be independent, take care of myself, and get to know people I have never met before. We were all kind of thrown into this experience and so we had to learn how to do all of these things on our own. It has opened my mind to knowing that I will have to do things like this in the future. It has moved me because I know that I can do so much more than I thought I could. Being in Israel will change who I am now because I have learned to be more aware of others. We have to be with each other at all times and so respecting and learning others’ needs is super important. For example, if my roommate wants to go to bed, I have to be quiet or find somewhere else. I have enjoyed swimming in Sachne [a nature spot in the lower Galilee] the most. It was during a full day field trip and we got to swim as it is the last time we can swim until summer. We all jumped in and were terrified of the fish in the water. The experiences have brought me closer to everyone around me.” — Flora Pelton
Connected
Eitan Hefer, 15, 10th grade, in Hudsonville, Michigan. (Courtesy of Eitan Heffer)
“I love being able to have fun with Jews my age. I am able to surround myself with people that have similar interests and ideas as me. I feel more connected and comfortable with these people than with most of my friends at home because you are with the people here all day, everyday. I will be a lot more mature and be able to focus and do my homework without being asked [when I return home]. I will also be able to advocate for myself a lot more. I have a lot more fun here versus school at home because I can have more one-on-one with my roommates. Being in Heller High has taught me to manage my time and know when I need to focus on myself versus the people around me. This experience has changed my outlook on life because it has taught me to make the most of each moment. ” — Eitan Hefer
New View
Lena Schapiro, 16, 11th grade, from Rancho Cucamonga, California. (Zoe Klevens)
“I heard about Heller High from a friend. My parents thought it would be a great opportunity, and we didn’t know anyone that had studied abroad as a high school student. I decided to do it because, at home, I wasn’t feeling very Jewish. My school has no Jews. I was looking for a connection to other Jews and my Jewish identity in Israel. I expected to observe Judaism more often here and it is true compared to my life at home. An experience I’ll remember most was we went into the caves at Bar Kochva and sang the Shema and extended every word. It was so spiritual, and it felt so good at that moment. It felt like I was ascending with the echoing voices. We were all in harmony both out loud, but also in our souls. This experience has given me a whole new mindset about the world. I feel more responsibility through community service, engaging with Israelis that I have never met, and being away from home. Now that I have been able to surround myself with other Jews, I can feel confident in my Jewish identity when returning home. It opened my eyes, like when we learned to clean out plates with dirt. It opened my mind up to the fact that you can clean something dirty with something even dirtier. It was something I would never have believed worked, but although it seems absurd, it was so effective. It’s taking something you’d never believed and turned it into something so easy. I can apply this to my Jewish life at home by trying new things that might seem weird to others.” — Lena Schapiro
Reminded of home
Adina Golbus, 17, 11th grade, from San Rafael, California. (Zoe Klevens)
“Raticus is this toy rat; he’s not quite a stuffed animal, but he looks realistic and special to me. It was this joke between my friends and me back home, and I ended up bringing it with me. I created this Instagram account called raticus.inisrael. On my first day in the airport, I knew these kids in the airport were going to think I was the weirdest person in the world or have similar humor. It made my heart happy when everyone thought it was super funny. Now wherever we go, I try to bring Raticus to all the significant places we go. He has become a mascot for our group. He has become a special thing. I share them with my parents. Masada was a challenging mountain to climb, and having Raticus there made it easier, knowing I could take him to the top and get sunset pictures. He helped to change the mood.” — Adina Golbus
Together
Sylvia Kassoff, 16, 11th grade, from Jackson, Mississippi. (Zoe Klevens)
“After going to Israel with NFTY this summer, I knew I wanted to return. I was unhappy with my home school because I felt as though I wasn’t getting a very good education. My friend from home had told me that ‘being around other Jewish people was good for me.’ That really stuck with me and made me want to come to Israel again. The cultural shift from Jackson, Mississippi to Israel is definitely large. At home, there is a lot of Southern hospitality where everyone is kind to everyone. Here, people are kind, but it is definitely different because people display their kindness differently. A lot of the time people don’t really smile on the street that much, but many give to charity and in general people are a lot more willing to be socially active here versus at home.
“My happiest moment here was when we went to the Mediterranean sea and hung out on a rock. It was directly after we finished Yam le Yam (Sea to Sea) where we hiked from the Kinneret to the Mediterranean sea. Everyone was exhausted and we got to unwind and be together. I realized that these are the people I am going to be spending four months of my life with and I really appreciated that. While the school day is a lot longer, the breaks in between learning are helpful. The content is much more interesting and easier to follow. I have learned that I want to find a community and find people that make me feel comfortable. In Israel, I have made my own community of so many other Jewish teens. I am a little worried to go back to Jackson because I know it will be a huge adjustment. I have to go back to school less than a week after I get home from Israel. I think once I get back I will notice a big difference between my friends and me. I am excited to see what the world has to offer when I arrive back home.” — Sylvia Kassoff
Full of possibilities
Anna von Thomsen, bottom left, 16, 11th grade, from Schwerin, Germany. (Courtesy of Anna von Thomsen)
“The bus ride from the airport to Heller High felt like it was so full of possibilities. I didn’t know anyone and was like this is the start. The class sizes are either one-on-one or much smaller than my class sizes at home. It’s different from having a teacher that cares about what I learn. Since I am not American, I have had difficulty socially adapting, but I am working on that. The cultural difference between German and American teens makes it difficult. Trends and humor are both incredibly different. Sarcasm is more subtle in the United States and I have found that a lot of American trends reach Germany a lot later. Germans are generally a lot more blunt whereas Americans tend to dance around subjects. I have adapted by letting my peers shape me and teach me what they find funny. I haven’t stopped believing what I believed before I came here, but I have definitely catered to other people.” — Anna von Thomsen
Connected
Kami Rosenblatt, 16, 11th grade, from Danville, California. (Zoe Klevens)
“The best advice I was given before coming here is that nothing is permanent. I’m trying to make the most of it and live in the moment. I was expecting to be homesick, [but] I was shocked at how comfortable I was by day two. I’ve never been happier. We never really know how our day is going to turn out. It can go from being an 11-hour school day to having some of my favorite memories during or right after school. I also love Israeli dancing. When I am dancing, I feel energized and a kind of kehila (community) that you can not feel anywhere else. During Simchat Torah, we unraveled the Torah and saw the whole thing. We celebrated and danced around it with people we never met before; that was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. At home, I only go to school from 8:30 a.m. until 1pm. Here, we go to school from 8 a.m. until 7 p.m. It’s draining and long. However, learning Hebrew and the Jewish history class about Israel, the land, the people, the culture, and then just Judaism – the classes are so important to be learning here. It’s immersing us into the culture even more, and it’s the kind of education I would never receive in my life again. My greatest challenge has been learning to adapt to not enough sleep and going all day long without any breaks or stops. I’ve learned not to care about the things I used to care about. I am a lot less uptight.” — Kami Rosenblatt
Tradition
Talia Rapaport, top, 17, 12th grade, from Raleigh, North Carolina. (Courtesy of Talia Rapaport)
“Last year, I attended Alexander Muss High School for a semester. My dad and all of his family had done it. I realized how much Israel means to me and knew I wanted to return to my senior year. I wanted to learn more about the history of Israel, so I could go back and share it with my community. My happiest moment at Heller High was when we made it to the top of Masada and hung an Israel flag together. It was blowing in the wind, and I felt like we had all made it. When we screamed into the mountains ‘Am Yisrael Chai,’ and it screamed back at us, it showed all of the generations and what we are continuing. This gave me a sense of Israeli pride and what we get to be a part of daily. Living on my own here has made me a lot more independent. It is great college prep. I’ve had to start making my own life decisions like choosing when to do my homework or when I want to eat out versus staying in. It is now up to me how I want to practice Shabbat. In Israel, I am trying to stay off my phone on shabbat. At home, I attend Orthodox school; I learn all the religious aspects of being Jewish, the Talmud and Chumash [the Hebrew Bible], and not the history. The hardest thing for me has been learning about reform Judaism; it’s been eye-opening. It has given me a new perspective on what the prayers mean to different people. I learned so many different tunes and melodies to songs along with saying things in English instead of Hebrew. It gives everyone the ability to learn what we are praying about.I never had any background in that. But, I’ve adapted to it and overtime I started doing the reform prayers, instead of how I learned. Everyone has done a good job of including me in services.” — Talia Rapaport
Learning balance
Noa Maccabee, left, 14, 10th grade, from Hood River, Oregon. (Courtesy of Noa Macabee)
“I grew up in a non-Jewish community and struggled with my Jewish identity. Growing up in a small community with no Jews, I didn’t really know how to be Jewish. Being Jewish to me before didn’t really mean anything, but now I know more about the world and the people around me. I have learned more about my religion and others. Now, being Jewish means being me and not having to hide it. I was looking to explore Israeli culture and thought Heller High would help me. I’ve learned to enjoy every moment and take school more seriously. Hiking Sea to Sea with some of my closest friends and being outdoors was amazing. It pushed us because we were tired and exhausted, but we kept going. We discovered a stream after hiking six miles. We were all super hot and sweaty and arrived in this secluded area for lunch. My friend Kami and I decided to go for a brief swim. At that moment, I realized how close I was to nature, and the deep connection I have made with friends is the strongest I have ever had. Being here has taken time to get used to. Balancing school, friends, and living with people all the time – the social aspect can be difficult because of lack of alone time. It was surprising how short of a time this place took to feel like home. This experience has made me a more open person. I have a much better understanding of how the world functions and lives because I have the ability to see how Jews live when they are surrounded by thousands of other Jews.” — Noa Maccabee
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For the Jews of Venice, an uneasy history of scapegoating and grudging tolerance
The First Ghetto: Venice and the Origins of Modern Antisemitism
By Alexander Lee
Basic Books, 432 pages, $34
When one thinks of Venice and the Jews, the first figure that probably comes to mind is Shylock, literary history’s famous Jewish villain, a moneylender who demands a “pound of flesh” from the titular character in Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice.
In Alexander Lee’s new book, The First Ghetto: Venice and the Origins of Modern Antisemitism, Shylock is mentioned just twice, both times in the introduction, but his ghost hovers over the pages of the book. Much of Lee’s historical account of Jewish life in Venice is devoted to Jewish moneylenders, and the key role they played in keeping Venice’s economy afloat.
The First Ghetto centers on the uneasy and guarded relationship that the Venetian government and its Christian people — first as the Venetian Republic and later as part of the Italian nation — always had with its Jewish population. According to Lee’s account, Venice didn’t want the Jews, but it needed them, largely for their ability to provide credit.
As he tracks the rise and fall of the Venetian Ghetto across more than six centuries, from Venice’s first Jewish visitor in 1315 through the fateful deportation of its Jewish citizens in the Holocaust, Lee’s focus is so narrowly limited to the fluctuations of finance that he very nearly makes the word “Jew” synonymous with “moneylender” or “pawnbroker.”

That’s a pity, because readers can be left with the impression that the primary role Jews played in the life of the city nicknamed “La Serenissima” — the most serene place — was financial.
“More than once, the Ghetto’s Jews helped keep the Venetian economy from collapse,” writes Lee, an Italian Renaissance scholar at the University of Warwick who has previously published four books, including Machiavelli: His Life and Times. “They founded no fewer than eight glittering synagogues, each a masterpiece of its kind, founded innumerable charities, and administered their own affairs with democratic probity.”
There is, of course, validity to the argument that the Venetian brand of capitalism that emerged in the late Middle Ages and sustained the city through the 20th century was reliant on Jewish labor. Since the mid-12th century, the Catholic Church had prohibited usury, loans offered with interest. But this rule only applied to Christians lending to Christians. They could, however, take out interest-bearing loans from Jewish moneylenders, who were permitted to lend and borrow without, apparently, incurring sin.
The precarious arrangement proved, over time, to be mutually beneficial for the Venetians and the Jews. As long as they were supporting the city’s financial needs, Jews were tolerated — even as they were isolated, overtaxed and frequently attacked. When the Venetians had less of a need for Jewish resources, cruelty against them spiked. They were blamed for most of the city’s woes, including the Black Death, the loss of wars, and various forms of spiritual corruption.
Even if Jews’ contributions were valued by some, the majority of Venice’s Christians “still harbored a horror of moneylending in Venice itself — and almost all regarded Jews with unconcealed hostility,” Lee writes. To balance this necessity against their antipathy, Jews were permitted to live in Venice, as long as they remained apart. Thus the Venice Ghetto was born.
Beginning in 1516, they were segregated to an island of their own on the dilapidated site of a former municipal cannon foundry, Ghetto Nuovo, surrounded by high walls and an iron gate. They were constrained in cramped conditions, and allowed to associate with Christian residents only for business purposes, in daytime. They were marked as outsiders wherever they traveled within the city by a yellow circular patch on their clothing, and an oddly shaped yellow hat.
“The Ghetto was simply the easiest way of allowing Jewish loans to keep flowing,” writes Lee, “while keeping the spiritual ‘risks’ [of associating with Jews] to a minimum.”
Although Jews had been segregated and harassed in other settings for centuries, Venice’s Ghetto was a precursor of the many Jewish ghettos that would later be created throughout Europe. The word ghetto, borrowed from Venice, later “shed its purely Jewish connotations,” Lee writes, and became “shorthand for vulnerability, poverty and powerlessness,” in the living conditions of any minority group.
The first 150 pages of The First Ghetto track the vicissitudes of the explotive financial partnership between Venice and its largely captive population of a couple thousand Jewish residents. The periods of time when Jewish life could be conducted with some sense of security and ease were offset by periods of blame, harassment, and threats of expulsion. But, as Lee argues, the story of Venice’s Jews is one of resilience and survival.
Shakespeare penned The Merchant of Venice between 1596 and 1598, in a period that Lee describes as the Ghetto’s “Golden Age, 1589-1630.” Yet precisely why the character of Shylock emerged in England in this period or how the play related to the true conditions of moneylending and commerce are unfortunately never discussed.
Culture and humanity are strikingly absent from Lee’s account of the history of the Venice Ghetto. Lee notes that the inhabitants of the Ghetto were “poets and scientists, musicians and philosophers; they put on plays and held festivals; and they transformed Venice into the greatest center for Hebrew printing in the world.”
But, apart from a detailed account of the genesis of the book trade, Lee offers little description of these poets and scientists or philosophers, nor does he provide much insight into the daily life experienced in the Venice Ghetto. I yearned for a more vivid sense of how the Ghetto’s people passed their time, what they ate, how they socialized or practiced religious observance — and how they responded to the discrimination they faced.
The book’s subtitle, Venice and the Origins of Modern Antisemitism, suggests that Lee might dive into the genesis of antisemitic tropes or ideas — why did Christian Venetians believe that Jews ate babies, for example? — but this kind of analysis isn’t provided. Instead, Lee seems to regard antisemitism as a given, a force of nature that merely fluctuates depending on the conditions of the time.
“By 1630,” writes Lee, “Venice was the best place in the world to be a Jew.” And, “Anyone could see that the Ghetto was indispensable to Venice.” The bright moment didn’t last long, however, as that same year, the city was hit by a plague that took about a third of its population. Because they were still relatively isolated, the Jewish community lost only about 15% of its residents, but the larger city’s “glory days were now numbered,” Lee writes. “There would be no recovery — only a gradual slide into irrelevance.”
In 1797, Napoleon Bonaparte marched into Venice and forced its leaders to abdicate, effectively ending the Venetian Republic, and declared all its residents equal. The walls of Venice’s Ghetto were finally torn down; its gates were carried to the town square, smashed to bits, and burned. A member of the national guard, Raffaele Vivante, jumped up and gave a speech. “Here you have toppled the terrible doors which held our Nation as if locked up in a prison,” he cried, and then, as Lee writes, “The dancing went on till dawn.”
In the 1930s and 40s, under Mussolini’s fascist reign, the Venetians’ long-simmering hatred of its Jews rose to a boil. As the Jewish community was still small and somewhat contained, in spite of early 20th-century integration, it was easy to identify and decimate. The emptying of the Ghetto, handled here in about ten pages, resulted in the removal of around 2,100 people in 1943 and 1944, of whom hundreds were murdered.
In the 21st century, while the waves of antisemitism have once again crested, the notion that to be Jewish is to be linked to moneylending, banking, and usury has, sadly, gained new currency. Although this is not the only issue Lee touches upon, I wondered while reading the book if it was truly useful to hammer home this connection once again.
As I read Lee’s history, waiting for a better sense of the dimensions of humanity in the Ghetto, a line from the Merchant of Venice kept popping into my mind: “If you prick us, do we not bleed?” I would have liked to have seen a slightly more sanguine touch on these pages.
The post For the Jews of Venice, an uneasy history of scapegoating and grudging tolerance appeared first on The Forward.
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British Museum postpones a Jewish Culture Month lecture, citing ‘disruption’ concerns
(JTA) — The British Museum has canceled a lecture titled ‘‘Ancient Israel and Judah” that was scheduled to take place today on its premises.
In a statement on Wednesday, the museum said the decision was made because it was informed in recent days that “a significant proportion of registered attendees were individuals intending to deliberately disrupt the event.”
The event was supposed to be jointly led by members of the museum’s senior curatorial team alongside organizers from Jewish Culture Month, with the lecture presented by Dr. Paul Collins, the museum’s Keeper of the Department of the Middle East.
Jewish Culture Month is the first event of its kind in the United Kingdom, organized by the Board of Deputies of British Jews. The festivities opened on May 15 and run through June 16, and include more than 100 events celebrating Jewish heritage, creativity and culture across the U.K.
Major British institutions including the British Library, Tate Modern, Victoria and Albert Museum and the BBC are participating.
The British Museum said it was only postponing and not canceling the event, stating the decision was a joint one “made following conversations with organisers and security partners.” The museum added that the decision was made “to protect the event — not diminish it.”
British Museum Assistant Press Officer Lucy McDonald told JTA that the museum could not comment on “operational or security arrangements” and referred to the statement saying that the event would be rescheduled “to a later date when it can take place in an environment that properly safeguards both the audience experience and the integrity of the programme itself.”
The Board of Deputies of British Jews responded with a statement saying, “It is highly regrettable that individuals have sought to deliberately disrupt a Jewish Culture Month event celebrating Jewish cultural heritage at the British Museum.” A spokesperson for the Board told JTA they could not comment further.
At the launch earlier this month, Board of Deputies Acting President Adrian Cohen said the events were designed for Jewish and non-Jewish community members alike because “British Jewish culture is not something that exists in isolation.”
Board of Deputies Director of Culture, Education and Communities Liat Rosenthal added, “Jewish culture has never been something sealed behind glass. It is a living culture. An argumentative culture. A hospitable culture. A culture of memory and reinvention. Of stories carried across borders and generations, then remade anew.”
The museum’s postponement of the event is a blow to London’s Jewish community, which has weathered rising antisemitic incidents since the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attack on Israel.
Shimon Cohen, the campaign director for Shechita UK, an organization that advocates for the Jewish ritual of kosher animal slaughter, told JTA in a statement, “Why has our country descended into mob rule? Why are we signaling that intimidation, vitriolic abuse, and violence against Jews works?”
“The British Museum can ‘celebrate the contribution of our communities’ except the Jewish community,” said Cohen. “Instead, their message is clear: let them cower, be cancelled, and be exposed, through the cowardice of our passivity, to ever more hatred, and why? Simply because Jews don’t count!”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post British Museum postpones a Jewish Culture Month lecture, citing ‘disruption’ concerns appeared first on The Forward.
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In Miami, rekindling the Black-Jewish alliance that Clarence Jones insisted never died
The day before the March on Washington in 1963, a man who embodied much of what that civil rights action was all about left this world. The march went on, and changed history, in dedication to the life and work of W. E. B. Du Bois. During it, the NAACP’s Roy Wilkins told the crowd, of Du Bois, that “his was the voice that was calling to you to gather here today in this cause.”
A similar scenario is unfolding in Miami today with the start of a major convening of groups committed to the Black-Jewish alliance. It comes in the shadow of the death of Clarence B. Jones, a lawyer and speechwriter for Martin Luther King, Jr., who embodied that alliance and its cause for much of his life. He died last Friday at 95.
Chairman emeritus of the Black-Jewish alliance group Spill the Honey, and long cemented in history as the legal mind behind King’s protest strategies who also contributed passages to the “I Have a Dream” speech, Jones would vociferously argue that despite endless fissures, the alliance never ended.
That is a position I too have long maintained, particularly because a major part of the alliance is acknowledging the existence and power of Black Jews. As I and so many others tirelessly repeat, the two groups are not mutually exclusive. It’s a misnomer to say “Blacks” and “Jews” when each group overlaps with the other.
And if the alliance did die sometime during the last 30 or 40 years, did my existence and that of every other Black Jew not get the memo?
Our reality hasn’t stopped others from restarting the alliance with all the patentability of reinventing the wheel. I’ve lost count over the years of how many times a new Blacks-and-Jews group — again, usually ignoring Black Jews — would form as if it alone had the answer to whatever discord was then going on, from disputes over affirmative action after the Supreme Court’s 1978 Bakke decision to the latest over Israel’s horrific actions in Gaza and Lebanon.
That led me and Bruce Haynes, author of The Soul of Judaism and an African American professor who recently discovered his Jewish ancestry, to wonder last February if it was time to form an umbrella organization for all the organizations so dedicated.
While we discussed it, others were mobilizing.
An influential — and funded — group was already working on exactly that, calling for the National Convening of the Black-Jewish Alliance in Miami this week. Organizers include the Redstone Family Foundation and the EXODUS Leadership Forum, founded by CNN commentator Van Jones.
At 95, Clarence Jones would not have made the trip. But Spill The Honey, the organization he recently chaired and for which Haynes and I both serve as board members, is also among coalition partners.
Nearly 100 Black, Jewish, and Black Jewish leaders (this time, we’re being heard) will gather in what will be a show of unity merely in all of us being together, even if we don’t agree on everything. No coalition does, and those that do succeed (think of the not-always-comfortable bedfellows of the civil rights and labor groups that pulled off the March On Washington) do so despite their differences. What’s important is that we’ll be in the room together.
Will it work? Who knows. The alliance has always been rocky, even if it has also always survived.
And don’t count Clarence Jones out yet. His spirit will definitely be with us, which he foreshadowed in a conversation we had in the Forward three years ago.
“When I die, I’m coming back Jewish,” he said.
“But still Black?” I asked.
“Absolutely!”
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