A recent Taglit-Birthright Israel trip sponsored by Shorashim and KOACH was both a typical Birthright trip and a “uniquely Asperger Syndrome” experience rolled into one. The 21 young adults, ages 18-26 and from all corners of the US, spent ten days over Winter Break taking in many of the important sites and experiences of Israel: Jerusalem, Masada, the Dead Sea, camel riding in the Negev, jeep riding in the Golan, Rabin Square, Shabbat, and time interacting with our three participating Israeli soldiers. The highlights (beautiful scenery, good food, fun!) and complaints (too structured, strict rules against drinking) mirrored those of any other Birthright trip.
This depth of knowledge is expected from a group with AS. The desire to connect with people and place, the ability to articulate what it means to have AS, and the willingness to support peers are generally not. And yet, the group experienced all of these as well.What made this trip different were the extraordinary contributions of the participants. Some of these were to be expected from a group of young people with Asperger Syndrome (AS): vast knowledge about the Bible, archaeology, World War II battles, sci-fi books, and video gaming systems. One participant recited verbatim, from memory, and in Hebrew, the words of Israel’s Declaration of Independence as we heard the recording of Ben Gurion reading it in Independence Hall in Tel Aviv. A few offered corrections to our amazingly knowledgeable tour guide.
The trip included daily prayer in a variety of locations, and conversations about the weekly Torah reading and about Jewish perspectives on ability and disability. Over Shabbat, nine participants read from the Torah scroll we borrowed from the Fuchsberg Center for Conservative Judaism in Jerusalem. One young woman celebrated a first bat mitzvah while another marked a second. “No friends came to my bat mitzvah. Here, I am among friends.” After our visit to the Kotel, a few participants reported hearing God speaking to them from the stones of the wall. One participant felt “a surge of pride in being Jewish.” Another shared, “My spirituality has been heightened.” Several enjoyed reading from the Torah scroll we traveled with—and celebrating bat mitzvah among friends.
One young man found it rewarding helping and being helped by fellow participants as they walked down the steep, slippery, rock-filled path down to the Dead Sea. A young woman thanked the group for the patience and kindness they showed her as she made the difficult walk up the Roman Ramp at Masada.
At the “Invitation to Silence” exhibit at the Children’s Museum in Holon, the participants relished the challenge of communicating non-verbally with deaf guides and with each other, which is difficult for some people with AS.
Several commented on the powerful experience of meeting with Israeli peers with AS at the Shekel program in Jerusalem. “I didn’t know there were people in Israel with Asperger Syndrome.”
In our group processing meetings some spoke of making a first friend, or of being in a group where people understood them—especially when people at their jobsites and degree programs (Associates, Bachelors, and Masters alike) do not. Some spoke of returning to Israel—to live. “I can see myself at Shekel when I move to Israel.” One shared the power of being in a group of people like him, “who should feel more comfortable socializing—but don’t—even after having been told and shown how hundreds of times!”
Ultimately the AS group, like all Taglit-Birthright Israel groups, came to share in the experience of being Jews in their homeland. For ten days they experienced living as a community of Jews, despite sometimes feeling marginalized by Jewish communities back home. And, beyond the tzedakah they donated and the oranges they picked at Leket Israel, they left a deep impact on the Holy Land—the idea that people with disabilities have much to contribute.
As his new album debuts, the renegade religious rapper tells The Times of Israel why he drastically changed his lifestyle.
Sitting backstage at Matisyahu’s concert in Stamford, Connecticut five days before the July 17 release of his new album, “Spark Seeker,” his father Bob Miller is smiling. Warm up band Moon Taxi has left the stage (as part of the Summer 2012 “Alive@Five” Festival), the sun is going down, the Stamford Town Center is packed and the crowd is cheering.
Matisyahu dances during his set at a summer concert in Irvine, Calif., in this May 2006, file photo. (photo credit: AP Photo/Chris Pizzello/FILE)
Matisyahu, best known for performing in traditional hasidic garb — black kippa with tzitzit (ritual fringes) swinging under his white shirt — is now dressed in a white T-shirt, black faded jeans, fashionable white sunglasses and green Nike sneakers. For most in the audience this is their first in-person look at his handsome, clean-shaven face. Matisyahu, born Matthew Paul Miller, no longer looks like a Lubavitcher. And he no longer embraces a hasidic lifestyle.
On December 13, 2011, Matisyahu shocked the Jewish world by posting a beardless picture of himself on Twitter, with additional commentary on his website.
This morning I posted a photo of myself on Twitter. No more Chassidic reggae superstar. Sorry folks, all you get is me… no alias. When I started becoming religious 10 years ago it was a very natural and organic process. It was my choice. My journey to discover my roots and explore Jewish spirituality — not through books but through real life. At a certain point I felt the need to submit to a higher level of religiosity… to move away from my intuition and to accept an ultimate truth. I felt that in order to become a good person I needed rules — lots of them — or else I would somehow fall apart. I am reclaiming myself. Trusting my goodness and my divine mission. Get ready for an amazing year filled with music of rebirth. And for those concerned with my naked face, don’t worry… you haven’t seen the last of my facial hair. — Matisyahu
Many articles and blog posts have pondered the question of who is this new Matisyahu? Many wonder if he is “still religious.” Father Bob confidently reports, “He is the same person he always was. He has always been searching, and he always will.”
Mother Rochelle was also backstage at the Stamford concert, along with their daughter and family friends which included Matisyahu’s fifth grade health teacher who danced with her former student on stage. Ms. Miller was happy that Matisyahu was performing a short 27 kilometer drive from their home in White Plains, New York.
Rochelle enjoys the concert but shares more motherly concerns: The 33-year-old Matisyahu, wife Talia, and sons Laivy (7), Shalom (5), and Menachem Mendel (1), recently moved from Crown Heights, the world headquarters of Chabad Lubavitch, to the Pico Robertson neighborhood of Los Angeles, California.
“I am extremely sad. I have been to Los Angeles five times since their move in September. Maybe they will move back after two years there!”
The soft-spoken, very forthcoming Matisyahu respectfully notes, “My wife took me there. She wanted to go. She wanted the weather. She’s from New York.”
At first, Matisyahu reports, “I wasn’t necessarily interested in leaving,” but he soon realized, “I wasn’t tied to one place.” Matisyahu consented and the family relocated.
Perhaps an additional benefit of living in Los Angeles is the proximity to Hollywood. Matisyahu will appear in the horror movie, “The Possession,” set to open August 21. Ironically, the now clean-shaven Matisyahu plays Tzadok, a rabbinic exorcist. The movie, which stars Kyra Sedgwick and Jeffrey Dean Morgan, is the story of a girl who buys an antique box at a yard sale and is unaware that an evil spirit lives inside. For Matisyahu, acting is a return to his second love — he reportedly always had a passion for acting and was in plays in college.
Matisyahu is still best known for his first love, music. His musical styles include reggae, beat boxing and rap. His current tour, which ends on September 29, will take him and his band across the United States, Canada and Portugal. He continues to play such well known songs as “Jerusalem” and “King Without a Crown,” as well as cuts from his upcoming “Spark Seeker” album.
Matisyahu spoke candidly with The Times of Israel pre-concert from the back of his van, en route from the Stamford Marriott to his tour bus outside the Stamford Town Center. The musician spoke openly about a favorite song on his new CD, his family, and his recent transformation.
How is this different from past tours? Who is your audience?
How is anything ever the same? I go for deep. I have a hard time answering simple questions. The audience is different. We are on tour with the Dirty Heights. It is a younger crowd.
Your new CD “Spark Seeker” comes out on July 17. Are you excited about the release? Do you have a favorite song?
Of course I am excited. I don’t have a favorite song but one I have been performing lately, we’ve been staring off our shows with and the one my record starts with is “Crossroads.” I don’t even remember recording it to be honest with you. And I don’t remember writing the lyrics, but I did feel that when I listened to it, especially after all the changes, and everything that has been going on — I just felt like that it really sums up a lot of what I was feeling.
On “Light,” there was that line — “one tiny moment to shine.” [he is referring to the song “I Will Be Light.”] Looking back on the record, I feel like that was the main lyric of that record and I feel like “Crossroads” every night when I’m starting to sing it. I just feel like it’s perfect, I just feel like it’s right . Sometimes you write a song and it has a certain mood in it, and a feeling in it, and you are not always in that mood. Or that lyric doesn’t always resonate. The song that’s definitely resonating for me now is called “Crossroads.” And it feels powerful every night to go out and to perform it.
How do you deal with life in the spotlight?
I don’t know. How do you deal with it? It’s pretty cool.
You change your appearance — that’s one thing! Do people not recognize you these days?
Not even at my own shows!
When I saw you at the hotel, I didn’t even recognize you. You were wearing blue gym shorts, a blue T-shirt and tennis shoes — you just looked like a regular basketball player. People always grow and change and that’s awesome. Why did you decide to make your religious transformation so public?
The question is how do I not make it anything but public? I didn’t think I wanted to mention it. I wasn’t planning on mentioning it afterwards, with the Twitter thing. But I was going through Twitter and I read that quote [“When the tide comes in I lose my disguise”] — a fan quoted that lyric from “Thunder,” and I was like, “Oh, that’s perfect!”
‘Who is to say what the disguise is?’
Sometimes you write lyrics and it can mean one thing for you and then a year later it can mean a totally different thing for you and at that moment I felt, wow, there is something inside of me even at that point that felt that I was in disguise. There was some part of me even four years ago when I wrote that song that felt one day I’m going to take off my disguise and then, on the other hand, you can say, “Who is to say what the disguise is?” Maybe the other one is the disguise. But in that moment, I felt it was time to reveal panim, the face. So then I was thinking, “People will see me at shows and they won’t get that it’s me — I’m gonna have to mention it. People are going to want to know what’s going on.”
How are you navigating your current level of Jewish observance on the road?
It’s kind of a different thing for me now. There are certain things I am still holding on to strongly, like obviously not performing on Shabbos, not traveling on Shabbos. Kosher. Kosher has been easy for me in this run because we have a chef and he is a vegetarian and he cooks just for me. So that one’s like knocked off. So that’s that. Shabbos is Shabbos.
‘There are so many rules in Judaism, and if you get into them and you get obsessed and you have the kind of life that I have, it can make you a very unhappy person’
Everything else, for the most part, I’m not holding myself to it in terms of the rule aspect of it. It is more about an ideal. Ideally I would like to put my tefillin on every morning and daven mincha and daven ma’ariv [two of the three daily prayer services]. And I would like to say brachos [blessings] and all these things. But I sort of stopped holding myself to it. It is a weight off now I do it when I have the time and it feels right. When I make the time, I am a little bit more accepting, a little more patient with myself maybe than I was in past years trying to fit in putting tefillin on with, like, in the morning when I had to be at a radio station at 8:30… There are so many rules in Judaism, and if you get into them and you get obsessed and you have the kind of life that I have, it can make you a very unhappy person. It can make everything complicated and more stressful than it needs to be, so I kind of loosened the knots a little bit.
How was the transformation for your family?
My one-year-old dealt with it. He had to get used to seeing my face. I think the first time I held him, he didn’t recognize me. But it was very quickly that he got it. I think they look in the eyes. And the feeling and the voice. Maybe more than anyone else my one-year-old son got it right away. No judgments, certainly from him. And then, my other two boys go to Chabad school (in Los Angeles), and I had to warn them and tell them that people might say stuff. We had to have a lot of conversations.
‘More than anyone else my one year old son got it right away. No judgments’
I think it’s given them a whole new take on… everything, because they will want to know. That things are not as simple; life is a little more complex. It is not so clear.
We had a conversation with my son on the way up here that was so interesting, where he was saying that… the whole thing with Jews and non-Jews and the differences and all that. I try to open them up and just give them alternatives. Basically, I just tell them, “When you are raised in a religious family, you learn that there is no alternative. That there is one ultimate truth. And you can see it might come in various shades and colors. At the end of the day there is one truth and that one truth is this.”
I’ve had to talk to my kids and explain that maybe that’s not so. Basically what I tell them is that no one can ever be sure of anything — and in this life, your teachers, parents, yourself — you can have your own ideas, your own opinions, intuitions feelings, etc., whatever it is. But never to be too sure of yourself, and never to be too sure of anyone because, at the end of the day, we don’t know. That was a new idea for them. But amazing conversations — me and my sons.
Our Tikvah participants joined the whole camp for a trip to Six Flags. Every year, I wonder if this is the best use of our time. It is a fun day, but it is very taxing. We assess the campers and their needs (Which rides? How much supervision? Water park?) and we assign two or three staff members to each group. For me, the main reason to go is to be part of a camp-wide trip. All campers and staff walk the park proudly displaying their Camp Ramah shirts and high-fiving fellow campers as they cross paths in the park. I am sure campers would notice that Tikvah was missing if we opted out of the trip.
How do I know how integral Tikvah is to camp? The trip took place the day after the Amitzim Play. NEVER is the camp so quiet, focused, attentive and respectful as when the Tikvah campers act, sing and dance up on stage. Each camper has a part, well-suited to his or her needs or abilities. The lines are projected on the wall so audience members can follow along (in case they can’t hear the words). One staff member, in camp for the first time and at the play with her young children, had tears in her eyes as she came up to me afterwards to tell me this was the best moment of camp so far. Some audience members chanted names of campers; others clapped. All will return to the world more sensitive to people with special needs.
Our various buddy/peer mentoring programs also help assure that campers will have comfort around and appreciation for people with all abilities and disabilities. Every day, our Bogrim Buddies join our Tikvah group at job sites and the Machon Buddies join our Amitzimers in sports. And the Nivonim MiNis (Madrichim B Nivonim counselors that are Nivonimers) are working with us in many capacities as they develop their leadership skills. Nearly every day, a bunk of campers joins us for tefillot. They sit with our campers and co-lead with our campers. This, too, will go a long way towards feeling comfortable with people of all abilities.
To conclude: When people ask about Tikvah’s role in camp, I often say having Tikvah at Camp Ramah in New England is as natural as having swimming or Shabbat at camp. Shabbat Shalom!
Yidstock: The Festival of New Yiddish Music, running in Amherst, focuses on klezmer tradition – and innovationWoodstock 1969, meet Yidstock 2012.
Back in the day, the Woodstock Music and Arts Fair in Bethel, New York, may have featured such acts as Jimi Hendrix, Jefferson Airplane and the Grateful Dead, but today’s Yidstock: The Festival of New Yiddish Music, running July 11-15 in Amherst, Massachusetts, will present a who’s who of musicians from the klezmer and Yiddish music worlds, on the grounds of the National Yiddish Book Center.
Priceless Yiddish books that had survived Hitler and Stalin were being discarded and destroyed
The Yiddish Book Center grew out of the work of Aaron Lansky, a 24-year-old graduate student in Yiddish literature who, in 1980, learned that thousands of priceless Yiddish books that had survived Hitler and Stalin were being discarded and destroyed. American-born Jews were unable to read the language once spoken by their parents and grandparents. Lansky organized a national network of zamlers, volunteer book collectors, to save the world’s remaining Yiddish books.
“We weren’t collecting books for too long before we realized it was just the tip of the iceberg,” recounts Lansky, the founder and president of the Yiddish Book Center and the editor of its magazine, PaknTreger. “We didn’t just lose books, but we lost the constellation of Jewish life — language, literature, music, film and theater.”
The Yiddish Book Center has helped ensure the preservation and rebirth of Yiddish language and culture. The 49,000 square foot center is home to more than 1,500,000 volumes of Yiddish books. More than 11,000 Yiddish titles are now available free of charge online through the Center’s Steven Spielberg Digital Yiddish Library, and undergraduate students interested in becoming the next generation of Yiddish language speakers and translators spend their summer learning Yiddish language, culture and history.
‘Through the course of the festival you get a picture of where the music has been, where it is now, and where it is headed’
Yidstock, a more popular front of the center’s activities, will feature such top names in klezmer and Yiddish music as Hankus Netsky and the Hebrew National Salvage, Grammy Award winners the Klezmatics, Josh Dolgin aka “Socalled,” Frank London’s Klezmer Brass Allstars with Eleanor Reissa, and the Michael Winograd Trio. Yidstock will also include a film festival, a klezmer instrumental workshop and a klezmer brunch. Rogovoy will deliver a talk entitled “Rockin’ the Shtetl: The Essential Klezmer.”
“Through the course of the festival,” notes Rogovoy, “you get a picture of where the music has been, where it is now, and where it is headed.”
Hankus Netsky, scion of a klezmer dynasty, one of the original klezmer revivalists, and founder of the Klezmer Conservatory Band, shares Rogovoy’s appreciation for the Yiddish Book Center.
“The Yiddish Book Center exists because the mainstream world neglected, then discarded, Yiddish literature and everything else too. The revival and revitalization is a major triumph of the last 30 years — this festival celebrates that.” Netsky, who holds a PhD in ethnomusicology and is director of the Itzhak Perlman “Eternal Echoes: Songs and Dances for the Soul” Project (to be released in the Fall of 2012 on Sony), speaks passionately about the themes of “salvage,” rescue and revitalization (he will be performing with a group known as Hebrew National Salvage).
The Klezmatics (photo credit: courtesy)
“We found Jewish culture discarded in the dumpster and are doing what Jewish business people have always done — we are finding a new use for it. My father was in the rag business so I am familiar! We are putting it back into circulation. We are reclaiming it.”
Netsky refers to his work as “salvage ethnography.”
He adds, “Jewish music is the same as Jewish literature — it builds on what came before it and is eminently creative.”
Netsky relates that the entry for klezmer in the 1975 Dictionary of Jewish Music read, “The klezmer tradition died out in the 19th century.”
“Huh?” asks Netsky, “That’s interesting! All my grandfathers and uncles were klezmer musicians!”
In a summer, 2011, PaknTreger article entitled, “But Is It Klezmer?” Rogovoy explores this latest wave of Jewish music, which continues to borrow from many sources. He playfully reports on the types of comments he hears when he exits concerts by performers like the ones who will play at Yidstock.
‘Klezmer has always spoken in the idiom of its time. And that time is now, and the fusion of hip-hop, funk, and jazz is our musical currency’
“If I had a dollar for every time I hear someone saying ‘I don’t know what you call that, but that’s not klezmer,’ I’d be, as the saying goes, a rich man,” says Rogovoy. “I hate to disappoint you, but yes, it is klezmer. And not only is it klezmer, it is part and parcel of the klezmer tradition. Indeed, it is traditional klezmer, because klezmer has always spoken in the idiom of its time. And that time is now, and the fusion of hip-hop, funk, and jazz is our musical currency.”
