Every summer when overnight camps are in session (please, let’s be in session next summer!), I look forward to teaching Tikvah (disabilities inclusion) staff about the differences between equality and equity.  There is a classic image that explains it quite simply—in order to see a baseball game from the outfield fence, three people of different heights don’t have equal access to the game.   One can see the game over the fence, one’s view is partially blocked and the 3^rd person can’t see at all as the fence is in the way!  They need different “things” in order to see the game—a tall person can see without any accommodation, while a shorter person needs a box or two to stand on.  Pretty straight forward.  Who could possibly argue that it is necessary to offer an accommodation?

Ellen Gutoskey in an article in mentalfloss.com offers an example by George Washington University’s Milken Institute School of Public Health.  They point out that recognizing the difference between equality and equity is important in just about every sphere of life: public health, politics, education, racial justice, and more. If each public school in a certain county receives 150 new laptops, that’s technically equal. But it doesn’t factor in that some of those schools might be located in high-income districts where most of the students already have their own laptops. Instead, officials should allocate the devices according to which schools have the greatest need for them—that way, they can minimize the chance that dozens of laptops will end up gathering dust at one school, while another doesn't have enough to go around.  This is a very relevant example as the majority of students in the country—regardless of means—are learning virtually.

A recent USA Today article and a recent This American Life podcast made me think more of the issue of offering accommodations to ensure equity.  In the USA Today article, students in Virginia who are immunosuppressed were advocating that all—not some—college courses be offered virtually this semester.   If only some courses are offered in person, those who are immunosuppressed and not able to attend classes in person due to medical reasons, would be left out of certain courses.  If all courses are offered online, everybody will have access to all courses.

This American Life very skillfully and sensitively addressed the issue of timed presentations.   Most people would not object if told their presentation cannot exceed five minutes.  However, a very articulate person who stutters demonstrated that he has absolutely no control over how long it takes to deliver a speech.  He timed his speech while practicing, and it took 2-1/2 minutes, yet when performing on stage, it was five minutes long—way over the time limit.  Listeners began to understand that offering an untimed option would be a reasonable accommodation for those who stutter.

There are many wonderful images of equity vs. equality online—simply google it.  Some images go even further—they point out that the ideal third option is justice—removing systemic barriers so that the cause of the inequity is addressed.   May we strive to offer access for everyone—it is only fair! 

When our Ramah camps decided not to open this summer, we worked hard to find ways to meet the needs of our community members—both within each camp, and on the national level, through National Ramah programming.  On the camp level, there were Kabbalat Shabbat and Havdalah services, challah baking, Israeli dancing, yoga classes and more.  On the national level, there were Rich Recht and Josh Washawsky concerts, learning sessions, Musical and Mindful Mincha, etc.

How would we provide virtual programming for campers with disabilities?  As we polled our families through our Tikvah directors, we learned—to our delight—that community members with disabilities enjoyed participating in camp wide activities with their friends with and without disabilities.  In fact, they were great consumers—arriving on time, participating regularly and enthusiastically.   Campers with disabilities also enjoyed programs with fellow Tikvah Program members—like regular prayer and song sessions, and weekly video calls, known as Shabbos is Calling and Shavua Tov.

We learned that parents of participants in our vocational training programs worried their 18-26 (ish) year olds would feel isolated and lose hard and soft skills of employment if they were not engaged this summer.   How could the National Ramah Tikvah Network help?  Welcome to the 12-session Tikvah Virtual Vocational Training and Socializing Program! I wrote about this on July 2, at the start of the program.  Here is a progress report!

Under the leadership of Maya Albin, and with the ongoing assistance of Rebecca Finkelstein, Rachel Arditi, Sarah Parkes—all experienced Tikvah staff members from various Ramah camps–and with the help of volunteers and Tikvah directors, we organized a twelve session program which met Tuesdays and Thursdays.  We attracted 45 participants each session, from across four time zones.

When we designed the program, we planned sessions to address such topics as job skills and soft skills of a job; Thursdays sessions would involve a hands-on project, and we would hear from alum of our programs who would describe their current jobs, living situations, Jewish involvement and social lives. We also planned to have some time for socializing.

What we hadn’t anticipated is just HOW important this program would become in the lives of the participants and their families. The program offered reliability and predictability during uncertain times, it offered friendship and conversation during a summer when in-person socializing wasn’t possible.  The program expanded the world of our participants.  For example, worlds expanded when participants realized it was dark in Boston but still late afternoon in Sacramento!  During socializing times, they shared news of birthdays, vacations, and pets.  They talked about their own camp experiences and listened to the slightly different but very similar experiences in other Ramah camps. They sang Rad Hayom at the end of each session—a song we sing in all of our camps, with ever so slightly different edah (division) names! 

In our final session three days ago, Talia said, “I can’t believe how fast it has gone by.  It is crazy!  Austin said, “I hope we can continue in the fall!”  Participants had razor sharp memories for what we did in the previous 11 sessions.  Zach liked learning about budgeting and self-advocacy.  Maya liked folding clothes and learning about resumes.  Carly liked the interviews with alum.  For our last session, 50-year-old Matthew, an alum of Tikvah New England who was our guest in session 11, returned as a participant.  Sydney enjoyed learning about money and Tiffany remembered learning about personal space. 

While some group members have worked continuously through the pandemic (ie. Austin in a hospital, Tiffany and Matthew in grocery stores—and take great pride in being called “essential workers!”), others are still awaiting a return to in-person work.  They have all kept both their soft and hard skills—and their social skills–sharp through participation in our virtual voc ed program. 

As we were winding down our final session, Zach said, “It has been ha lot of fun. I hope you guys have an awesome rest of the summer and I hope to see you guys in the Fall!”  Maya offered, “Thank you for the great program!”  And Austin added, “It was very excellent, very fun and I am definitely giving you guys a great survey!”

We are reviewing the surveys and seeing just how much participants want to continue.  Stay tuned as we consider ongoing programing for the fall.  For now, we are planning a special evening this Thursday when we will be joining friends and colleagues from Flying Foxes, a program in Australia which provides socialization programs for people with disabilities.  Check out our International Dance Party!   

The photo above is the scene I encountered at my hotel in Greenwich, CT one hour before Shabbat this past weekend as we attempted to celebrate a several times rescheduled Covid bar mitzvah.  Blackout!

As if Covid cancelling a very special bar/bat mitzvah in Israel in June of first cousins wasn’t enough, Hurricane Isaias decided to come along and knock out power to nearly two million people in New Jersey, New York and Connecticut.  The hotel, where the rescheduled, socially distanced, bar mitzvah was scheduled to take place, did not lose power—at first.  But, late Friday morning, as the electric company was working to untangle and reattach power lines and restore power to everyone, the power to the hotel was cut. 

With one hour to go before Shabbat, there was no guarantee the bar mitzvah could take place in the hotel Saturday late afternoon.  I was driving to the hotel and was 30 minutes away.  The bar mitzvah mom was understandably nervous.  “Could we do it Sunday over brunch?”  She wondered if maybe I should go home and come back the next day.  I didn’t have the heart to say we don’t generally read torah on Sundays.  But then again, some compassionate rabbis are allowing students to read the torah portion from their “cancelled” b’nai mitzvah, even months later.  “We will make it work—I will come up with a backup plan!”

Like most people in the world, I haven’t spent the night anywhere but my own home for more than 5 months.  I had reviewed the hotel website and saw all of the new procedures and precautions they had in place—cleaning, distancing, special pack out breakfasts, hand sanitizer, etc.  I was still nervous.  I was lucky enough to get a room with a huge window which opened when I opened the two big doors.  At least I would have great ventilation—if only I could find the room!

On this particular erev Shabbat (Friday before the Sabbath), every guest had to be let in to their rooms in the same way Sabbath observers are let in on the Sabbath—escorted by a hotel clerk with a master key. In this case, they also had a flashlight!  

I dropped my stuff on the bed and took off for a quick walking tour/explore of the Greenwich waterfront.   Where could we have a bar mitzvah IF the hotel and their restaurant (with outdoor dining) didn’t allow it to take place?  Luckily, the hotel was located next to the water where yachts anchor.  And there was a nice promenade and a city park (with a skate park!).   As the bar mitzvah family, grandparents and out of town guests dined at a restaurant in town (which still has power), I sent photos of 4 or 5 possible places where we could hold the bar mitzvah.  We’d walk the torah to the park picnic table (which we’d sanitize and cover); or, we’d sit on the steps near the marina.

I got back to the hotel 5 minutes before candle lighting and saw lights in the lobby.  Was the power restored?  No such luck.  A yacht with a generator was kind enough to let the hotel bring a long orange cord from the yacht to the lobby.

I prayed, made Kiddush and hamotzi, ate dinner, read until it was pitch black (in 15 minutes) and went to bed.  At 6, I woke up—to light in the bathroom!  It seems the power was restored at 5:45 am! 

The bar mitzvah proceeded as planned!  Chairs were spaced out in a reception room for the 30 guests.  Everyone received a prayer book, kipah and face mask.  We celebrated the bar mitzvah on Harlan’s actual birthday with Harlan reading torah, leading prayers, and delivering a very thoughtful d’var torah–and we celebrated outdoors with a lovely sit down dinner.    What a special day!  All we need to do is reschedule the Israel part of the bar mitzvah.  It will happen!

Apologies for not posting for a few days due to storm-related power and internet outages.

It is not often that my disabilities inclusion world and my Grateful Dead worlds come together.  Yesterday was a wonderful exception.  Yesterday was August 9th.

Yesterday, I was honored to present and participate in a several hour long webinar on Accessibility and Inclusion for Birthright Israel and Israel Free Spirit.   The 50 plus participants learned about inclusion of people with disabilities, people with various medical issues and people in recovery on Birthright trips.  The participants were delighted to see two ASL interpreters on the Zoom webinar, taking turns interpreting the many sessions of the day.  It is so important that Jewish communal events continue to become more and more accessible.  The Jewish deaf need to feel welcomed and truly belong in our Jewish communities.

Yesterday, I was delighted to learn more about the Deaf Deadheads community!  There has been a lot in the news this first week of August about Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead.  Last week was the Daze Between, the days between the August 1^, 1942, birthday of legendary Grateful Dead guitarist and singer, Jerry Garcia and the August 9, 1995 date of Jerry’s death of Jerry.  The event, announced by The Jerry Garcia Family and The Rex Foundation, included musical performances and storytelling for nine days!

In honor and in memory of Jerry Garcia, CBS Morning News decided yesterday to rerun a 2017 broadcast of a segment on “Long Strange Trip,” a four-hour documentary about the Grateful Dead.  I loved this movie and wrote about it when it came out for the Jerusalem Post.

I was familiar with most of the things mentioned in the CBS segment–those Deadheads who sat in the PhilZone, those who sat in the Jerry Zone, the Wharf Rats, the Tapers, the Twirlers and more.   I have to say—I had not heard of the Deaf Deadheads!  Of course!  Why shouldn’t people who are deaf also enjoy Jerry, Phil, Bobby, Bill and Mickey (and others like Brent, PigPen, Vince, Donna, Keith—and sometimes Trey and Bruce) as much as the rest of us.

The footage showed deaf people close to the stage, holding balls, and enjoying the music through the vibrations.  When the date of “Fare Thee Well,” the three days of concerts in Chicago celebrating the 50^th anniversary of the Grateful Dead, neared, Deaf Deadheads approached concert organizer and major mensch, Peter Shapiro, to ask about a section at the show for people who are deaf.  There was a wonderful Wall Street Journal article reporting on Deaf Deadheads.  It is entitled, “‘Deafheads’ Marked a Milestone of Their Own at Final Grateful Dead Shows.”

It told the story of 40 deaf and hard of hearing fans in a “Deaf Zone,” a gated off area on the stadium floor about 60 yards from the stage.  There were three sign language interpreters, standing on a lit platform, working in rotation, translating the meaning of Dead songs—no easy task given the nature of the lyric!  Some Deafheads held balloons which helped catch sound pulses in the air.

It is amazing that Deafheads got their start in the 1980s—approximately 10 years before the Americans with Disabilities Act was passed in July, 1990!  According to the Wall Street Journal article, Deafheads say their cohort emerged in the 1980s in Washington D.C., home to Gallaudet University.  “As they found each other in a pre-Facebook era, they also sought out like-minded interpreters and connected with the Dead’s longtime sound man, Dan Healy, who helped carve out space for them at shows.”

I am pleased that we continue to make strides toward greater inclusion of deaf people at Jewish events and conferences.  I am even more pleased to learn that the Grateful Dead has been including people who are deaf since at least the 1980s!

Looking forward to seeing Deafheads at the next show—once this pandemic passes!