An Israeli Arab "Profile in Courage": Marwan Amer

With my "cousin" Marwan in Beersheba, in southern Israel

We met last spring at a celebration of families whose children attend the Hagar Arab-Jewish kindergarten in Beersheba. I traveled from Tel Aviv to meet the students, their parents, and community — an oasis of hope trumping ignorance, cynicism, and despair. My digital story Jewish-Arab Kindergarten relates part of their heroic tale.

Within minutes, Marwan and I discovered that we share a deep affection for my cousin Khanan, principal of Jerusalem's largest primary school. Marwan, an interfaith leader and trained facilitator for the Adam Institute for Democracy and Peace, has worked with Khanan and other educators to break down stereotypes and teach nonviolent methods of conflict resolution in schools.

When Marwan introduced me to his wife, Sarah, she immediately said, "stay with us as long as you like" or to join them most weekends in Kafr Qasem, their hometown in northern Israel. We pledged to meet again.

Seven months later, Operation Cast Lead broke out
Beginning in December 2008 and ending in January 2009, Israel launched a military campaign in the Gaza Strip aimed to stop Hamas rocket attacks on southern Israel and target Hamas members and infrastructure. It achieved little of value for anyone.

During the military campaign, I couldn't imagine life for Marwan and his family — dodging Hamas rockets while many fellow Jewish Israeli citizens are hostile toward Israeli Arab citizens. I was worried sick and called or emailed Israeli family and friends daily. At first, I hesitated calling Marwan, unsure whether a conversation might feel awkward for us or add to his stress.

Staying alive, together
Marwan's young daughter answered the phone. (He later told me that she watched on TV her school hit by a rocket.) When he came to the phone, he gasped. I stammered, weeping, "I am so terribly sad. For everyone. How are you?"

He explained that initially, he and Sarah brought their three young children to their grandparents in Kafr Qasem to escape Hamas rocket attacks in the south. Two weeks later, the children and parents missed each other terribly, so the children returned home to Beersheba. With local schools closed and rockets raining steadily, the family mostly stayed inside.

Peace work does not stop for war
"How are you, Marwan?" I pressed. "What about your peace work while escalating violence threatens the dream?"

And with his reply, Marwan, an unstoppable force for good, captured my Profile in Courage Award.

The Greater Beersheba Arab-Jewish teen group is continuing to meet. While the Jewish families would not allow their kids into Arab villages since the war, all the parents gave permission for the group to travel to Tel Aviv to meet [1.5 hours distance and requiring vehicles, fuel, and logistical arrangements]. There, in the Israel Boy and Girl Scouts Tel Aviv troop building, the teens are discussing the situation and how they feel and think about it. Our peace work has not stopped. And it will continue.

Related Post
Jewish-Arab Kindergarten

Blessing for Tamar and Helen

Helen came for lunch today. Earlier, when we had confirmed our visit, she volunteered, "I wrote a blessing. I wrote it for you and me," she hinted.

My friend, the gifted liturgist (she served on Emory University's Candler School of Theology faculty from 1981-1999) arrived bearing a copy of her recent book, "Mother Roots: The Female Ancestors of Jesus" (the opening chapter: "Tamar: A Woman Who Sought Justice"). Helen also brought a copy of the blessing and too many yummy desserts.

When she recited the blessing, Helen spoke the Hebrew word ruakh twice. In this context, ruakh means soul, spirit, essence.

Watch the video (3:57 minutes).

From Abby's place: Hail to the Chief!

Abby's evite to the

Inauguration-viewing brunch bunch

The scene: Abby's art-and-book-filled sunny home with to-die-for views.

The crowd: A merry band of 32 adults, one middle-schooler, and three rescue dogs.

The gifts: One friend brought three vases bursting with yellow and red tulips. Another gave Abby an Obama Action Doll (shown in the photo) that she clutched tightly, posed with, and waved.

The activities: FOAs (Friends of Abby) mingled, flowed — sometimes seemingly floating, always eating, usually transfixed at the Temples of CNN (headquartered in the living room) or PBS (my religion) in the den.

The mood: Severally and together, bursts of joy, relief, disbelief, pride, oohs and ahhs, tears, smiles, shouts, laughs, human growls, and doggie speak.

The food: Oh, the food. And, those mimosas.

The call: The day after a national holiday — Happy birthday 2009, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., when America inaugurated its first African American President in an astonishing celebration, we were riveted to President Obama's call [transcript and video here] to embrace the hopes, challenges, opportunities, and responsibilities upon us.

Photo credit: Susan Walsh/Associated Press

And the "Smile Project" 2009 winner is . . . me

With Bren Bataclan, holding my prizes
at New York City's South Street Seaport

I wish I could say that I have been steadily Smiling at random, from Atlanta to Jerusalem with the Smile Project. In that post, I blogged on my pledge to do so after I spied, then plucked Bren's bright painting of a colorful, happy, whimsical creature atop a boulder in front of the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) headquarters in Atlanta. Winning the 2009 award (for the best feedback entry) has pricked my conscience, triggering my pledge renewal.

A note taped below the painting read that for the mere pittance of a promise to smile at random people more often, and to send Bren feedback (guidelines here) on where I found it, the painting was . . . mine.

The next month, I brought it to my cousins in Jerusalem, spreading smiles across the ocean.

Feedback from Jerusalem to Boston
Teen cousin, Daniel (shown holding the painting), emailed Bren (through me) the requested feedback (in English, Daniel's second language after Hebrew).

Hi Tamar, How are you? I wrote a feedback [below] to Bren, the man that painted the cute thing... I just don’t know how this sweet creature named. I hope that it’s fine. (There are many words that I’m not sure if they need to be fixed...)

° ° °

"Dear Bren, I was amazed to see your lovely painting. In fact - he coused me to smile. I glad that there are people like you - carring other people like you - carring other people to be happier. — Daniel Zohar, דניאל זוהר"

Then, I invited Daniel to join in a brief Q&A.

Me: Where did you hang the painting?
Daniel: Over the shelf in the living room.

Me: Are you smiling at more people?
Daniel: Yes though I don't know if its because of the picture.

Me: Do others in your family smile at random more often?
Daniel: Same answer... and they express more joy.

Me: How old are you, and in what grade?
Daniel: 15 years old, in 10th grade.

The painting over the shelf in the living room

New friendships, worldwide
While finding the painting in Atlanta has been bringing smiles in Israel, finding it also launched my friendship with Philippine-born, U.S.A.-educated Bren, who began The Smile Boston Project in 2003, his street art project to brighten spirits worldwide.

After months' intense planning and detailed scheduling, last September, Bren (from Boston), I (from Atlanta and Tel Aviv), and Daniel's brother Dear Israeli Soldier, Dear Aviah (from Jerusalem) met in New York City to celebrate The Smile Project and the painting that linked us. (In the photo, an iPod classic with Belkin microphone attachment is capturing Bren's answers to our questions.)

Pay attention
Wherever you go, be alert. The Smile Project might be on your path — a painting and this invitation:

Raising high the Israeli flag

Israeli flag facing the highway
north of Tel Aviv, close to Ra-anana

Here is what Karen Alkalay-Gut entered in her Tel Aviv Diary today:

I've dusted off our flag and am getting ready to hang it up on the balcony. It is a strange impulse, born of much debate. The energy we expend debating on ethics is exhausting, but I've finally decided to let the flag speak for us.

The rest of her diary entry follows (I added the links):

A few words with a close friend from the USA last night on the phone got me thinking about it — he assumed the war is unnecessary, and I agree. So here are my criticisms and my conclusions.

1. I would have been much happier if we had made more direct efforts to speak with Hamas.
2. Hamas has been sending us antipersonnel rockets for years on civilian targets and trying to kidnap soldiers. Gilad Shalit was in Israel when he was kidnapped. That fact alone is Casus belli [the justification for acts of war]. But we did nothing — except accept their threats, attempts at humiliations, and propaganda.
3. The world expected nothing from Hamas — no discussions, debates, proposals.
4. The rockets are still falling on Israel.
5. The attempt to minimize damage to citizens in Gaza is one of the causes of Israeli soldiers being wounded and killed right now.
6. While we all seem to agree on the number of casualties in Gaza, Israel and the rest of the world don't quite agree on the percent of civilians lost. Israel says less than 100. Palestinians says most are women and children.
7. In fact, most of the international news runs counter to what I know from people who are actually activating elements of the war. And as parents and partners and relatives and neighbors we are never ignorant of what's going on.
8. Though I am constantly aware of the situation of the Arabs in Israel, I really believe they are in much better shape than they would be living in any Arab country, although we have no oil.

So I'm hanging out my flag.

If you're not afraid to, you might want to do it too. Members of my family, by the way, have been getting death threats on Facebook.

New Year's Day 2009 | tranquility in your palaces | שלוה בארמנותיך

Peace seeker Mohammad Shibli's dovecote
Shibli, Israel

In her New Year's Eve post on Hard Times, Ronni Bennett, sage and virtual friend (lucky me) wrote: "Hard times. . . We have survived other challenges, some of our own making, and we will do it again this time."

My amen is (deceptively) simple.

יהי שלום בחילך ושלוה בארמנותיך
תהילים קכ"ב
May there be well-being within your ramparts,
tranquility in your palaces.
Psalm 122:6

The scholar Robert Alter, in his notes from The Book of Psalms: A Translation with Commentary, writes on his English-rendering of the Hebrew verse, "As in many lines of biblical poetry, there is a narrative progression from the first verses to the second — first the ramparts, then the palaces within them, following the path of the pilgrim coming up to the city."

Who is Tamar? Chief Rabbi Sir Jonathan Sacks comments on your Biblical “date”

Tamar (Hebrew: date palm tree, date fruit) at
Tel Aviv University campus date palm sculpture

Weekly, I eagerly await the Covenant and Conversation commentary on the weekly Torah reading. Sir Jonathan Sacks, Chief Rabbi of Britain, examines (via web, email, and podcast) the Torah as it unfolds along the annual cycle of Torah portion readings. Last Shabbat, Genesis 37:1-40:23 features my namesake, Tamar, among other developments. In this blog post, Torah translations are from Robert Alter's The Five Books of Moses: A Translation with Commentary. 

We know little except her name, Tamar
Judah, fourth of Jacob's twelve sons, had "gone down" — a spiritual and physical decline after proposing to his brothers that they sell into slavery Jacob's showoff favored son, Joseph. Judah is now married to a Canaanite woman who bore him three sons: Er, Onan, and Shelah. When Er grows up, Judah finds him a wife, Tamar.

Tragedy strikes
Er "was evil in the eyes of the Lord" and dies. (The text does not describe the evil.) Judah instructs his second son, Onan, to marry Er's widow, Tamar, in a levirate marriage in which a widow's brother-in-law must marry her if the brother died childless. Onan, who "would waste his seed on the ground" rather than fulfill the obligation, is punished by death.

Judah, fearing that his third son might die, too, if given in marriage to Tamar, sends her to "stay as a widow" with her father until Shelah is old enough to marry her. There, Tamar remains a "living widow" unable to marry while bound to her remaining brother-in-law.

Taking destiny in her hands
When Tamar learns that Judah is approaching nearby Timnah for the sheep shearing, she veils her face, dresses as a prostitute, and stands on the road he will take. Judah approaches and sleeps with her, and she becomes pregnant and returns home. Three months later, her disguise long removed and condition apparent, people inform Judah. Indignant, he reasons that she is guilty of adultery because she is bound to Shelah. "Take her out to be burned," he orders.

A significant detail
In Tamar's ruse, before performing services for Judah, she negotiated payment and insisted on a pledge — his seal, cord, and staff.

When he sends a messenger to pay Tamar and reclaim the pledge, she cannot be found in her masquerade costume. Appearing as herself, she returns the pledge items with the message, "By the man to whom these belong I have conceived." In this masterly stroke, Tamar has established her innocence without shaming Judah who alone understands the course of events. Her discretion inspired the Sages to claim that one willingly be thrown into a fiery furnace rather than shame someone in public.

What was Tamar up to?
According to the Midrash of Nahmanides and of Hizkuni, Tamar was following the levirate marriage custom in which absent the possibility of the deceased husband's brother marrying his widow the father-in-law or a close relative can take his place. Tamar's piety ensured that her husband Er's name and family line would continue.

Ruth's story told in the Book of Ruth is similar to Tamar's. Both begin with a father-in-law's descent. In both stories, marriageable sons die: Judah's sons Er and Onan; Elimelech's Machlon and Chilyon. In both, a widowed woman is childless, and a woman's bold act triggers the denouement. Tamar poses as a prostitute, and Ruth lies at the feet (a euphemism!) of Boaz. In neither case are the men next in line in the levirate marriage (for Tamar, it was Shelah; for Ruth, the anonymous Peloni-Almoni, whose claim Boaz asks to forego).

Why mention Tamar and Judah in the Book of Ruth?
The Book of Ruth states explicitly the connection between the women. When the elders permit Boaz to buy Naomi's field and marry Ruth, they pronounce, "May the Lord make the woman who is coming into your home like Rachel and Leah who together built up the house of Israel . . . May your family be like Perez whom Tamar bore to Judah."


This Book ends with a genealogy that counts ten generations from Peretz to King David whose family tree begins with Peretz, born to Judah and Tamar, and, the seventh generation son Obed, born to Ruth and Boaz. Thus, the family tree of Israel's great and future King includes Tamar and Ruth whose virtue, loyalty, kindness, and discretion contributed to David's greatness.

Heroines at the extreme 
margins of Israelite society

Ruth is a Moabite; we are not told Tamar's family origins. The Sages say she was descended from Shem; Philo ((20 BCE - 50 CE), that she was the child of idolaters. Yet, says Boaz of Ruth, both women bear children "to maintain the name of the dead . . . so that his [deceased husband's] name will not disappear." And both are sensitive to the living — Tamar by not shaming Judah, Ruth by not letting her mother-in-law, Naomi, return home alone.

The stories of both women, childless widows and outsiders move me deeply. Tamar and Ruth, powerless yet of moral courage, wrote their names into Jewish history as role models who gave birth to kings, reminding us that true royalty lies in love and faithfulness, and that greatness often exists where we expect it least.

Josh Gomes is scoring points for Israel

We are family. Yup.

Looking at the photo, you might wonder, Huh? Family? What’s up with that?

Watch the video (7.5 minutes). Then, "listen" to more of Josh's unique voice in his email below the link.

On Feb 20, 2008, at 9:37 PM, Josh Gomes wrote: 

I just got home [to Binyamina] from the Jerusalem trip! Wow, it was the best. ... I have things on my phone like the Western Wall (where people put their prayers to Jesus or God in cracks between the stones), Mt. Zion where King David was buried, Mt. of Olives, and the walk that Jesus made to Calvary on the Cross (aka Via Dolorosa). I will show you in time.

But yeah, after that we went to The Holocaust Museum [Yad Vashem, The Holocaust Martyrs' and Heroes' Remembrance Authority]. 6 million Jews and more died, and over 3 million of them were from Poland! We had a 3-hour tour lady, and she was the best. The sights I saw I will never forget. The devil had to be full force in Hitler for him to get an entire country to abide through all this.

The most interesting fact about the gas chambers in Germany is that only 30-40 Nazis ran each camp. And over an entire year, well 13 months, 900,000 Jews died in one camp through just 30-40 men's doing. Also, I didn't know that Americans knew what was going on, not from the beginning, but they knew during the stages of this and did nothing besides a few bombs in not effective areas. All they had to do was bomb Auschwitz and the railroads that took the Jews to the gas chambers. They came when it was all said and done, and acted like they were shocked! I mean, I am sure some were, but still.

I didn't really know how much Poland was hit. The towns they did it in... I saw those towns every road game and not knowing history was there 60-65 years ago. They had the "Ghetto" in Warsaw. How they did those people I will never forget. When the people were dead, they had a bulldozer like they do snow and just piled and pushed the dead people into these caves that they made. Aw, man, that time had to be one of the worst periods ever.

The tour lady made sure we knew everything so we can continue the story for generations to come! I'm glad I took the opportunity.

Related posts

• Family reunion in Atlanta
• At Bialik-Rogozin School, shooting baskets with Josh Gomes (includes video)
• Josh Gomes: My Eritrean brother can dunk; he just wanted a little help this time

בָּעֶרֶב, יָלִין בֶּכִי; וְלַבֹּקֶר רִנָּה | Psalm 30:6

At evening, one beds down weeping, / and in the morning, glad song.

The scholar Robert Alter, in his notes from The Book of Psalms: A Translation with Commentary, writes on his English-rendering of the Hebrew verse, "This upbeat vision of life has, of course, been manifested in the recent experience of the speaker." Further, it precedes a thanksgiving for having been rescued from death.

On November 4, within hours after the epoch-making rescue of America from its death and dying, I heard the speaker-psalmist's Hebrew voice.

The death? Of historic fears, of democracy run aground, of cynicism.

The rescue? The tectonic-like shift from nearly three hundred years of poisonous racism on the body politic to reason, plans, strategies, and passion for hope and change for all Americans.

. . . the dream of our Founders is alive in our time . . .

. . . lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen, . . . [of] people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different, that their voices could be that difference.

. . . [wisdom] spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of red states and blue states; we are and always will be the United States of America.

. . . It's been a long time coming, but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America.
— From a transcript of Senator Barack Obama’s victory speech in Chicago, November 5, 2008

My tears of joy, sobs of gratitude are for the greatness which is the human spirit, for our country, and for the trust we have put in Barack Hussein (a name that does not mean a terrorist or an assassin) Obama. Our president-elect, an American just like the rest of us — a mortal, not a deity, not a rock star, as someone viciously described him (really, revealed his own cynicism and envy) in his email among the genuine congratulations Skyped, called, and emailed to me from abroad.

בָּעֶרֶב, יָלִין בֶּכִי; וְלַבֹּקֶר רִנָּה | At evening, one beds down weeping, / and in the morning, glad song.

Voting today in DeKalb County, Georgia

I waited in line only 40 minutes,
thanks to early voting nationwide
(39 percent of DeKalb County voters
cast their ballots before today).

The wait in line was easy and fun. As with all elections the past ten years, I met many neighbors, fellow synagogue members, and friends — all in my district.

It's a five-minute walk from my front door
to my polling place, Briar Vista Elementary School.

The line waiting to vote snaked along halls
covered with children's work. Here,
the life cycle of . . . pumpkins!














A Venn diagram using Goldilocks and
the Three Bears and the Three Billy Goats
Gruff to learn, it appears, size (big, small
medium) and number (3).














Goldilocks and the Three Bears again,
this time in a lesson on charting
narrative elements (characters, setting,
problem, solution), methinks.



















The grand finale: the state of Georgia!
A map showing Native American Cherokee
and Cree tribe areas, and a note: "The men
went hunting and the women harvested."

Ramaz School e-reminder: Vote on Election Day, November 4

With Election Day on Tuesday, our current students are eagerly anticipating the result of this historic vote on the national level, and already understand that voting is both a privilege and a responsibility.

We hope that you share their enthusiasm and interest, and we encourage all registered voters in the Ramaz family to vote on Tuesday, November 4.

° ° °

When I was growing up in New York City, my father, of blessed memory, a pioneer American Jewish educator, enrolled me in the Ramaz School family. There, with a double curriculum (religious and secular studies), by eighth grade, I was taking 17 subjects!

Since its beginning, in 1937, Ramaz has been widely recognized for its academic excellence, reflecting the vision of founder Rabbi Joseph Lookstein: ". . . an integrated program of religious studies combined with general studies — a school in which the culture of America would blend with the heritage of Judaism." In this yeshiva day school, "a child would not experience an intellectual or emotional clash between being a Jew and an American."

Between growing up in a traditional Jewish home and attending Ramaz, where I learned Torah, Mishna, Talmud, and cantillation, among other religious subjects, I began to acquire basic tools and confidence to participate as an active member of the Jewish community. Since those early years, followed by continuing studies and experiences, I have been at home anywhere in the Jewish world. Whether I participate in a worship or life cycle service in an orthodox, post-denominational, or secular setting, I am at home. Whether the language is Hebrew or English, I am at home.

My Jewish education and the values that I inherited are liberalizing and universalizing influences in my life. And while my Jewishness plays into my identity, ideas, and activities, no rabbi, political party, lobby group, nation, or Jewish civil law necessarily determines my choices or decisions. I am neither a captive of my greater community nor am I a renegade. The tradition is rich; the tent is wide.

Bottom lines:

• Daddy, your love and legacy are my strengths.
• Ramaz School, your continuing education informs my choices.
• Every American registered voter, if you haven't already done so, cast your ballot tomorrow, and vote!

Giving good help: IsraMac and One to One training with Bill Huber

WIth One to One Creative Trainer Bill Huber
at the Atlanta Apple Store in Lenox Mall

As a dual citizen of the USA and Israel who pecks away at her Apple MacBook in both countries, my non-tekky skills (and confidence) get enormous boosts from sage sources on both sides of the pond. Thanks to my dual help systems, IsraMac and to Bill Huber, I can do much more than check email, surf the 'net, and manage myriad aspects of my life electronically.

IsraMac (Israeli Macintosh users discussion list)

This critical first line of defense and troubleshooting is a prized free information source for hundreds of subscribers (not just Israelis or locals!) on most things Macintosh. Almost daily, I get an emailed digest of Q&As on topics ranging from Mac OS tips and tricks to software updates (and crises), items for sale, and requests for service technicians, tutors, and translators. This Yahoo Group's special focus on issues specific to Israeli Macintosh users covers, for instance, Hebrew language compatibility and Mac-friendly (and -hostile) Israel organizations, companies, banks, government offices, and Internet Service Providers (with workarounds, if available).

The IsraMac community of newbies-to-gurus posts questions and answers. For example, guru Tzvi Fabian recently shared a link to Hebrew-English silicone removable keyboard KB Covers! Now solved: my dilemma on "converting" my keyboard from English to Hebrew characters, and back (avoiding cumbersome and inelegant individual Hebrew-letter stickers (they don't stick well) or opening the onscreen Keyboard Viewer (cumbersome)!

To subscribe, send an email to isramac-subscribe@yahoogroups.com.

Atlanta Apple Store superhero

More than five years ago, at Atlanta's Lenox Mall, I brought a sick Mac to Bill Huber who then held the brainiac title, Apple Store Mac Genius — Apple-selected and -trained to know Mac tools, systems, and products. And because not all Geniuses are equal, when the One to One membership program was born, I knew instantly which former Genius would be my One to One Creative Trainer. So when I am in the USA, Bill guides weekly customized training sessions to suit my learning needs. While he remains his signature kind, patient, good humored, respectful, and keenly intelligent self, it is Bill's patience that most boggles my impatient self.

Bill has helped me manage electronic data, streamline backup procedures, and enhance my blogging "chops." I have learned to use Mac applications that I would not have attempted alone, among them Keynote for presentations (such as setting up text and images for my video, Coexistence Kindergarten), iMovie for video production, and GarageBand to manage audio files of interviews I conduct. (Watch Scoring Points for Israel, my interview of Josh Gomes, American shooting guard on Israel's Ramat Gan basketball team.) 

Yom Kippur 5769: "Tamar, Why do Jewish people vote Democratic?"

Sharing a meal with hungry people and
engaging with them in loving ways at
Open Door Community, Atlanta, Georgia

Yesterday, coincidentally(?) two days before Yom Kippur, the holiest day in the Jewish calendar, my neighbor Judy and I had a lively two-hour rambling chat on all manner of subjects, save one. Years ago, we had decided to steer clear of politics. Yet in 28 days, we would be voting in the national election for US President and on issues and representatives, hot topics on our minds.

And so Judy confessed, "I cannot resist asking you one question." "Fire away," I encouraged.

"I've long wondered," Judy probed, Why do Jewish people vote Democratic, especially after George W. Bush and the Republican party have been such great friends of Israel?" "Great question, and a fair one," I replied.

Core messages 

Neither presidents nor kings, pundits, bosses, rabbis, nor specific groups decide who earns my vote. For many Jews and others, the Hebrew Bible, especially the books of the prophets inform our core values and visions of a just and decent society, our individual and communal responsibilities to bringing it about, and requirements for leadership. The Democratic party principles, platforms, and policies more than those of the Republican party align with these core messages. On Yom Kippur, we read from the book of the prophet Isaiah verses that encapsulate these messages.

Isaiah 57:14 - 58:14

Later, searching to share with Judy Isaiah's teaching, I stumbled on this creative translation/interpretation by Rabbi Shefa Gold.

... those greedy corporate warmongers!

They are like the troubled sea,
Whose waters stir up filth that pollutes the land,
For them there is no safety, there will be no peace.
... Oh sure, I hear their prayers every day,
They say they want to learn my ways. Hah!
As if you were a people doing righteousness,
Who has not abandoned decency and compassion!
... They say, "Don't you see we're fasting?
Don't you see how holy we have become?"
But on your fast day you wear clothes
that were made by Chinese prisoners,
And shoes that were cried over
by terrified children in loathsome sweatshops,
And the books you hold in your hands,
are filthy with the tears of dying forests...
And your investments fatten the rich,
who are destroying this land.
You think this is the kind of fast I want?
A day that will feed your self-righteousness?
You call this a fast?
... Well, I'll tell you what kind of fast I would desire from you...
Unlock the chains of your greed and habit,
Free you from slavery of being blind consumers,
Let the oppressed worker go free
by raising the minimum wage.
It's a disgrace I tell you!
The fast I want is one that will inspire you
to share your food with the hungry,
To redistribute the wealth of this land fairly,
To build affordable housing for the homeless,
And to welcome back the people you have thrown out of your hearts,
Even the ones in your own family.
... If you banish corruption, hatred and apathy
from the innermost places of your heart,
If you stop blaming everyone else,
And instead extend your hand to the hungry,
And lift up the ones who have been beaten down
by this unjust system,
Then your light will shine forth, even in the darkness.
... From your inspiration people will reestablish
the values that have been desecrated,
And restore the foundations of decency
that have been laid by your ancestors,
And you shall be called 'Repairer of Brokenness,'
'Restorer of the Way'...

May we merit a sweet year, join in repairing our broken world, and elect a just and wise President on November 4.

My related post

5768 (2007) Yom Kippur thoughts: Our choices do matter

L'Shanah Tovah, Have a Happy New Year: May we all be like a head and not a tail.

With cousin Gila and Tal-Or, her eldest grandchild,
at a family wedding in Jerusalem (March 2006)

Meet first grader Tal-Or who lives in the West Bank settlement Tekoa with her parents, sister, and brother. Tal-Or loves arts and crafts, playing with her friends, helping her mother set the table, and cutting salad. Rosh Hashanah begins this evening and it has been on Tal-Or's mind, as her email message to Gila shows. My English translation follows the Hebrew.

שלום לכולם,
צירפתי סיפור לברכה של ראש השנה.
שכולנו נהיה לראש ולא לזנב ושתהיה לנו שנה מתוקה
אוהבת,
טל-אור

סיפור לראש השנה
כתבה: טלאור-מאירסון

בראש השנה היתי אצל סבתא. אמא הסיעה אותי ראשון והלכה לקחת את אבא. ראיתי איך סבתא עורכת שולחן. ראיתי איך היא מניחה תפוח. ראיתי איך היא מניחה דבש. ושסבתא רצתה לשים צלחות היא אמרה, דניאל רוצה לעזור לי לשים צלחות. אמרתי לא. אז סבתא באה אלי ואמרה, דניאל צריך לעשות מצוות לפני ראש השנה. שאלתי למה? אמרה סבתא שתהיה שנה טובה-ו-מתוקה. בסדר אמרתי. וסבתא אמרה, ילד-טוב הביא לי צלחות עוד הרבה דברים. ואז שגמרתי אמרתי גמרתי וסבתא באה ואמרה, איזה יופי דניאל. ערכת ממש יפה. ואז שמעתי דפיקה טוק-טוק. רצתי לפתוח את הדלת ומי עמד בפתח? אבא ואמא. נתתי להם חיבוק חזק ואז אמא שאלה, מי ערך את השולחן? עניתי, אני-אני בעצמי. אבא אמר לא יאומן וסבתא אמרה, יהיה לנו שנה-טובה ומתוקה.

Shalom all,
I attached a story as a Rosh Hashana greeting.
May we all be like a head and not a tail, and may we have a sweet year.
Love,
Tal-Or

A Story for Rosh Hashana
by Tal-Or Mayerson

On Rosh Hashana I was at Grandma's. Mommy drove me there and then went to get Daddy. I saw how Grandma sets the table, how she places an apple, how she places honey. And when Grandma wanted to set the plates she said, Daniel wants to help me set the plates. I said, No. Then Grandma came over to me and said, Daniel needs to do Mitzvot [good deeds] before Rosh Hashana. I asked, Why? Grandma said, That we might have a good and sweet year. OK, I said. And Grandma said, A good boy brought me plates and many more things. When I finished I said, I finished. And Grandma came and said, Terrific Daniel, you really set the table nicely. And then I heard a knock-knock. I ran to open the door and who stood in the entrance? Daddy and Mommy. I gave them a big hug and then Mommy asked, Who set the table? I answered, I did, I did it by myself. Daddy said, Unbelievable, and Grandma said, May we have a good and sweet year.

NOTE: Gila later called Tal-Or, and learned that Daniel is just a name, no one in particular. As to the story itself, Gila said to me, I think that whatever we want to read into it is fine.

My previous Rosh Hashana posts

• 5768 (2007) L'Shanah Tovah, Happy New Year: On this day, the world was conceived.
• 5767 (2006) Caught in the Thicket נאחז בסבך

Israelis for Obama

In this three-minute video, among the talking heads — the woman at the Wall I have worked with; the former deputy speaker of the knesset I went to grade school with. Israelis for Obama: Seeking peace and pursuing it vigorously, within and without.

Love from me,
an Israeli-American for Obama


Update | Bearing in mind the video message and target audience, in the interest of discussion, see Israelis for Obama - Now, the Movie and Israeli generals duped into supporting Obama. Check out the comments following each post, too.

My lunch special at Atlanta’s Mediterranean Grille

David and Luther hugging gladdens Helen

Because I just missed the bus to reach a meticulously planned lunch date, I broke my rule on not hitchhiking and flagged a shiny black pickup truck. My designated driver? A thirty-something Hispanic man, dad to a preschooler (which I surmised from the Little Mermaid sticker smiling from the dashboard).

Me:  “How far up Briarcliff Road are you going?”
He:  “Buford Highway, to pick up my three-year-old daughter from school.”

When papi learned that I was headed past his turn, he insisted on first taking me to my destination so that I reach it on time. Good deeds. Grace. Gracias.

A long, growing friendship with interfaith roots
Atlanta's Mediterranean Grille was the venue for the basic recipe: good friends reconnecting over lunch to share laughter, ideas, updates, and more questions than answers. Luther called it "table fellowship" (a religious meal tradition derived from the ancient Mediterranean Essenes and early Christian cultures of community in which worship and ordinary daily living were integrated).

David's family and I met Rev. Dr. Luther E. Smith Jr. and his wife, Rev. Helen Pearson Smith, nearly a decade ago when our faith communities met at Central Congregational United Church of Christ. In dialogs, short courses (for instance, on theologians Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel and Dr. Howard Thurman), potluck dinners, and co-planned and -led New Year's and Thanksgiving services, we inched toward wider scopes, deeper visions, and more wholesome communities.

Meeting my cousin, my neighbor
At my turn in the long line to place orders, I asked the genial fellow Semite for lentil soup and dolmas (rice and lamb-stuffed grape leaves) with marinated salad.

I then pushed through my hesitation to ask, "What country are you from?" "Palestine," his answer.

Hmmm, methinks. Is he among the Israeli-Arabs and others for whom the State of Israel is a temporary aberration, its denizens slated to be obliterated, and the land appropriated to become Greater Palestine under Islamist rule? Or, does my cousin/my neighbor mean that he is from the Territories — the West Bank, Gaza, or one of the many Arab towns and villages, parts of a future Palestine?

"Where in Palestine?" I gently pressed.
"Gaza," he said.
Me (relieved, sort of): "Oh. Uh, I sometimes live in Tel Aviv."
He (enthusiastically): "I worked in Tel Aviv, in the 1970's."
Me: “Nice. In food?"
He: "No, I worked in the hotels."

And there ended our friendly chat; it was all I could manage. I had plenty to chew on, and mercifully, behind me someone was waiting to place a lunch order.

My community is multiracial, multicultural, multilingual, multi-everything
Such encounters — papi, David, the Smiths, and the Gazan remind me that suspending initial judgment of others and remaining open to the possibilities of engagement often returns interesting, rewarding outcomes.

Next month, our group will rejoin for table fellowship. I will probably re-order the dolmas, and speak a bit more w my Gazan cousin, if he is willing. And, because he worked in Tel Aviv, his Hebrew surely is a lot better than my Arabic.

Joe Franco (1909-2008): Celebrating a long, loving life

Joe Franco flanked by granddaughter Eliana Franco Gilbert
and her parents, Rita Franco and Craig Gilbert
(Probably at Joe’s grandson's Eli Joseph Franco's
Bar Mitzva, May 2005, when Joe was age 95.)

Meet Craig Gilbert, guest blogger and dear friend since 1993 when we met at Congregation Bet Haverim in Atlanta, Georgia. A manager of financial software, Craig was a principal of Front Row Systems, Inc, a software firm he co-founded, and operated 25 years. Craig is an active organic gardener, has written on ethics, and participates in the Dances of Universal Peace.

Soon after Craig's father-on-law, Joe Franco, died last spring at age 98, Craig sent me an email while I was living in Tel Aviv "to share the special life of Joe Franco who meant so much to me." Craig has agreed to publish here his tender reflections on this giant person (of short physical stature). He adds, "for Joe's family, thanks to everyone for the outpouring of love we felt since his passing and that you gave him throughout his life."

T,

I know you heard from David Soloway that Joe Franco passed away. I wanted to share a few words with you because you knew him, and like all special people, you immediately connected and saw beneath the covers. We spoke of him often.

I believe you first met Joe at our daughter’s baby naming at Bet Haverim where proud grandpa Joe was happy to offer the celebrants an impromptu singing of Verde’s "The Hebrews' Chorus (Va’ Piensero)." [In Verdi's opera Nabucco, the chorus sings of the Jews' longing for Israel following their expulsion from their homeland to Babylon by Babylonian King Nabucco.]

I enjoyed every minute with Joe. The years that I accompanied him to Congregation Or VeShalom [a Sephardic synagogue in Atlanta], I felt as though I was going with Mick Jagger. He was a rock star. People would gather round, and he would always have a word to say about their parents or grandparents.

After Joe passed away, I felt the need to tell you many things, how deeply touched I was by him and his passing so that you could savor the beauty of his life. Please indulge a few random thoughts.

Stories and songs in seven languages
When Joe passed away, it left a large empty feeling in me. I needed his stories, his songs, his sharing his life experiences. In ten minutes he could tell dozens of intertwined stories involving Charlie Chaplin, Irving Berlin, Mussolini, Kamal Ataturk, and Suleiman Ha’Gadol [Suleiman (Solomon) the Magnificent, who invited the Sephardic Jews to Rhodes, where they called him Ha'Gadol, Hebrew for the Great].

Joe would spontaneously recite Adlai Stevenson’s acceptance speech for the presidential nomination or Churchill’s speech to Europe to “fight on brave Norwegians.” Always on Joe's lips was a song in any of seven languages. I can’t tell you how much I miss Besame Mucho, O Solo Mia, or his Spanish translation of "God Bless America" or a French rendition of "Carolina Moon."

Humble beginning in the Aegean Sea
Joe was born in 1909 in Rhodes, a Greek island southwest of Turkey in the eastern Aegean Sea. He grew up in a three-story six-room house where two families (about 18 people) lived. No running water, no electricity. He slept on a bed of straw, which he shared with his brother Jack.

In Rhodes, if Joe earned a few dimes or quarters from the American sailors who docked there before or during World War I, it was more money than his father would earn in a whole month. In Joe's youth, when the sailors gave him dimes, he was amazed that the USA currency was made of real silver. He could not imagine how great a country it must be to use silver for coins.

He learned operas by standing outside a bistro, in Rhodes, which had a crank phonograph, and he picked up dozens of arias that way. He had a great talent for music and knew hundreds of songs in many languages. He often translated popular songs into various languages, and his translations were often (in his opinion) “better than the originals.” He was always singing and entertaining people.

Four continents and multiple talents
Joe lived on four continents and spoke seven languages: Ladino, English, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, and Latin. He also knew a good deal of Hebrew, Turkish, Greek, and Swahili. He could hold three conversations simultaneously in three languages, well into his 90's. Joe's wide-ranging career spanned sales, insurance, real estate, and retail.

The valedictorian of his high school class, Joe traveled to Belgium seeking work. There, he accepted an offer to be an accountant for the railroad in the Belgian Congo [present-day Democratic Republic of the Congo], in Central Africa, where he lived two years.

In 1929, Joe joined his four brothers in Atlanta, where he graduated from Emory University in 1934. During World War II, Joe served as a financial attaché with the USA embassy in Bogotá, Columbia, where he acquired materials (principally rubber and cinchona bark to fight malaria) for the war.

Boiled prunes from a mayonnaise jar
I met Joe when he was 80. He was allowing a homeless man to live in the basement of his home. Not one to put on pretenses, he offered me boiled prunes from a mayonnaise jar. When I married his daughter Rita, I immediately felt comfortable calling him Dad, and his wife, Rae, Mom.

His grandson Lewis recently published a CD, “Swingin’ in Daddyland,” about feeling great to be a good daddy. It is no coincidence. Joe’s whole family has been living in Daddyland [a term from the CD title], striving to emulate Joe’s values and instilling them in their children.

I never heard Joe say a bad word about anyone, save for the Nazis and other enemies of "our people." He achieved great success in life in the areas of family, friends, education, business, and love. Even at 98, I can't believe Joe is gone, and it seems it all ended too quickly.

— Craig

Installation dinner for Rabbi Hayyim Kassorla,
Congregation Or VeShalom (February 2005)
Front, left to right: Joe Franco (then age 93), Rabbi Kassorla
Back: Arnold Zipperman, Craig Gilbert, Jack Arogeti (great-nephew, great guy)

Knowing Hebrew is no help in learning Arabic

This gorgeous calligraphy spells "al Arabiya" — which means "Arabic" in English; at least I think it does.

Six weeks' learning to write and pronounce the Arabic alphabet, I'm feeling like a child. An illiterate one. And the feeling is lousy.

In Israeli-Arab towns and cities that I passed on frequent trips to the Lower Galilee last spring, the signage is in Arabic only. That's it, I decided somewhere between Tamra, Daburiyya, and Mount Tabor. I will learn Arabic basics, at least.

Now, between my Arabic 101 class at Evening at Emory and lessons on YouTube, I'm off to a great start. Here's what I mean.



I dream of watching Sesame Street in Arabic (5 days a week, with frequent repeats of each show). This way (I continue dreaming), I would painlessly learn not only the alphabet, numbers, and colors but also basic lessons in human relations: fairness, kindness, and respect for self and others.

Karen Armstrong writes (The Bible: A Biography), "... Modern philosophers of language have argued that 'the principle of charity' is essential for any form of communication... Even though [others'] beliefs may be very different from your own, 'you have to assume that [they are] very much the same as you are,' otherwise you are in danger of denying their humanity."

A core lesson that Sesame Street has been broadcasting nearly forty years.

July 4, 2008, celebrating in Tel Aviv

[Hebrew sign]
The lemonade of Li and Nadav
buy it for four shekels [about $1.50]

Friends, I am feeling the heat and humidity. On Tel Aviv's Rothschild Boulevard, children are selling relief (fast and temporary) from their park bench lemonade stands. Although I am scantily clad, sweat pours over my face, my neck — everywhere.

Yet, neither heat nor humidity can spoil this day. It is the Fourth of July, Independence Day in the United States of America today celebrating its 232nd birthday. Gratitude for America fills me just as gratitude for Israel on its 60th Independence Day filled me two months ago. I am a citizen of both democracies where I live, one country at a time.

It's the first time in years that I am not in America celebrating Independence Day... yet. My plane from Tel Aviv lands there this evening, ending a five-month adventure here.

It's also my second blogging birthday today. Two years ago, I published my first post, July 4, 2006, at Atlanta's Open Door Community picnic for more than 500 guests who live on the streets.

Thank you, framers of America's Declaration of Independence. Thank you, champions of independence everywhere.

Sold out: bottled water from a rolling stand
in Jerusalem's Old City last week

Tel Aviv: learning from elders

German-born Ute and Romanian-born Leah sharing girl-talk

At the corner of Tel Aviv's Allenby and Yavne Streets, in the public Beit Avot (Home for the Aged), the stories flow and I discover worlds. So when my globe-trotting friend Ute came from Frankfurt on her first trip to Israel, visiting the Beit Avot was a first stop.

Speaking pidgin German
Sitting on a bench in front of the Beit Avot, Leah was the first to greet us. They quickly established rapport, and howled in delight as Romanian-born Leah recounted, in pidgin German cobbled from her scant Yiddish, how she overcame bridal shyness on her wedding night.

Inside, we headed to Moshe's room for answers to Susanne's questions. She visits him weekly, and recently sent me this e-mail from the USA  —

... Is Moshe OK?... He had that eye surgery before I left and I am wondering if it left him impaired... I just hope he is doing all right. Also, he asked me to find a book and I need more information.

How did the eye surgery go?
Perfect, Moshe's reply.

Were you scared? Ute and I asked, in unison.

I've fought in four wars, killed many people on command, and was a captain in the paratrooper's brigade. Children are starving all over the world. What's a five-minute zapping with a laser beam? Moshe's bad-news-good-news answer.

Tell Susanne, thank you for asking, and to forget about the book, he added.

And so ended the Q&A and began Moshe's freestyle discourse on history, Jesus, opera, Greenwich Village, angst, and Israeli documentary film.

Ben-Gurion Remembers (the movie)
Among Moshe's myriad accomplishments and adventures, he was the chief cameraman for Ben-Gurion Remembers (1972), a tribute to Israel's first Prime Minister that scans this nation's history. Moshe told us about his first conversation with the elder statesman when the film's producer introduced them before the filming that lasted more than forty days. 

Our interest in the film having been piqued, the next day Ute and I sat in a carrel at the Tel Aviv Cinemateque Library and watched it, weeping, horrified, and ashamed as newsreel footage showed killing, maiming, and destruction. And, we cheered listening to Ben Gurion, world leaders, pre-State pioneers, and other courageous ingenious actors who helped trump the mad men and mad women and their death machines.

When we returned to the Beit Avot to thank Moshe for his camera work, his joyous shouts and gasps — that we sought, found, and watched the film thrilled us. Suddenly, he rose from his chair and went to the closet where he rummaged among his few possessions in the small room he calls home. And he retrieved a small photograph (shown in the photo on the left) of himself when he worked on that film project (in the photo, his assistant is on the left).

The twinkling eyes, the hair-framed smiling face in the photo still his, intact and unchanged since those glorious forty days' filming more than three decades ago.

My related posts on the Beit Avot

• In Tel Aviv: Holocaust (Shoah) Remembrance Day (includes a video)
• Donating Israeli flags to honor elders, country, and faith