Camp Ramah

KAITLYN FINCHLER kfinchler@cjn.org Posted Oct 23, 2024 at 8: 30 AM

You can view the original article here at Columbus Jewish News

Maddy Katz, 27, packs food for low-income residents at Pantry Packers in Israel. Submitted photo

In an effort to encourage people with disabilities to go on Birthright trips to Israel, residents across the United States traveled with Camp Ramah to volunteer, sightsee and engage in Jewish traditions in the country.

Maddy Katz, a 27-year-old Columbus resident, took part in one of these trips from Sept. 16 to Sept. 24.

Some of the highlights of the trip for Katz were watching and trying wheelchair paralympic basketball, picking olives on a farm, packing food for low-income people, making tzitzit for soldiers, seeing friends and family, watching sunsets, celebrating Shabbat and trying new foods, she told the Columbus Jewish News.

“I have ADD/ADHD,” she said in an email. “So, visuals are very helpful and we had a lot of people who were like that on this trip. We had one person who was missing a limb and a couple people with food allergies – also me. It was a lot of (fun) learning about everyone and everyone’s special talents.”

Howard Blas, senior adviser at the National Ramah Tikvah Network, organized the trip with Birthright Israel.

PHOTOS: Columbus resident reflects on Camp Ramah, Birthright Israel trip

Maddy Katz, a Columbus resident, does a double thumbs-up outside of the Harmony Hotel Jerusalem.
Emily, left, Ben, Maddy Katz and Rachel – all friends from camp – at the Anu Museum in Tel Aviv
Maddy Katz, a congregant of Congregation Tifereth Israel in Columbus, holds up a zeet zeet she made for soldiers
Maddy Katz wearing her grandfather’s talliet and tafflin at the Western Wall in Jerusalem.
Maddy Katz wears a sweatshirt reading, “always your neighbor” to represent the food bank, Neighborhood Services, Inc., that she volunteers for, while in Israel.
A sign in Hostages Square that reads, “TIKVAH,” in Tel Aviv.

“A lot of people started getting the idea that volunteering in Israel was a nice way to pitch in and show support and help out,” Blas, a New Haven, Conn., resident, told the CJN. “I got the idea that maybe people with disabilities would also have something to contribute.”

Blas said he approached Birthright since he had organized trips for people with disabilities for the organization before, and they were “very supportive” and said “let’s do it.”

The group unexpectedly had to relocate to Jerusalem on the last night of the trip due to safety concerns, but organizers tried to minimize unpredictable occurrences, Blas, a congregant of The Westville Synagogue in Westville, Conn., said. Traveling with people with disabilities comes at a higher cost than a typical trip to Israel.

“Our population needs more support and we need staff,” he said. “We need to fly with them. We need to have extra activities and hotels will be better, meals will be better. So, (Birthright) basically picked up the cost of all those accommodations for our group.”

Katz said this trip was geared towards everyone’s individual needs at a “much slower pace” and more her speed.

“We’re flexible,” Blas said. “Even though it’s very structured, if we see that people are really tired and we’ve overestimated how much we can get done in a day, we can reevaluate. We were very impressed with the group’s flexibility.”

It was “extraordinary” to see the realization in the participants that they were able to do everything their families had done on other Birthright trips, Blas said.

Planning for trips with neurodivergent participants means more structure, Blas said. Free time is “not usually the best” for these trips, so off-time was filled with activities and excursions.

Katz, who volunteers “a lot” with Neighborhood Services Inc., a food bank in Columbus, said the participants prayed “the Camp Ramah ways” with tunes from camp, and saw Jewish sites such as Hostage Square, Old Jerusalem, food markets and more.

Hoping more Jewish leaders will recognize the importance of these specialized trips, people with disabilities need to be considered as the same priority as neurotypical people and people without disabilities for Birthright trips, Blas said.

The next trip akin to this with Birthright will be in December for individuals with autism spectrum disorder.

Katz, a congregant of Congregation Tifereth Israel in Columbus, previously went to Israel on a Birthright trip with Blas in December 2017. She wanted to go again because Blas was “very organized” and a “great leader,” and wanted to be with people like her, she said.

“The first trip was much more fast-paced and moving around a lot,” Katz, who works part-time at the Grandview Yard Giant Eagle in Columbus, said. “This trip was one – a different city for the last night for safety, not planned – hotel and it was much more volunteering, which is what I love.”

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The original article is published at JPost.com

After wearing a kippah almost nonstop for decades, I have decided in the wake of October 7 to not walk outside in America wearing a kippah.

As part of my 40-year-plus career as a Jewish camping professional, I have gotten to spend dozens of summers at Ramah camps. There are many pluses – beautiful Shabbatot, having my own children in camp, tennis courts 50 feet from my bunk ,and not having to cook all summer are just a few of the reasons. 

Having to visit my physician each year and explain why I need him to complete and sign my camp medical form isn’t one of them! 

Fortunately, the doctor, a guy around my age, is a good sport and the conversations during the visit are quite pleasant.

My doctor is white and Jewish, while his two partners in their downtown New Haven, Connecticut, practice are Indian and black men. 

Last month, I had my yearly checkup. As I was finishing up my EKG and blood pressure screening with the 30-something black female technician I have known for years, she asked, “Don’t you usually wear a small hat on your head?”

A man wears a black kippah. (credit: Wikimedia Commons)

I paused then quickly realized she was referring to the knitted kippah she usually sees me wear to appointments. 

I said, “You have a good memory. I usually wear a yarmulke on my head. To tell you the truth, these days, I really don’t feel safe. I have been wearing a baseball hat.” (I point to my gray USTA tennis hat). 

I didn’t go into all the details – the arrest of 48 pro-Palestinian protesters at their encampment on the Yale University campus less than a mile from the doctor’s office, the overall rise in antisemitism in America, and so on.

She considers my response and thoughtfully replies, “You are not yourself without it.”

In my pocket and out of sight

She has me put on a hospital gown and she ushers me to the exam room. I carry my shoes, clothes, and my hat in my hand. My kippah remains in my pocket, out of sight.

She weighs me and asks a range of questions about things like depression symptoms. I am not depressed so I deny any symptoms. Sure, she would not be able to truly understand how I and everyone I know have actually been dealing with symptoms of depression and especially anxiety since October 7. 

As she is about to leave the room and invite the doctor in, she smiles warmly and says, “You look good in it. You really should start wearing it again!”

I so appreciated her comments and heartfelt concern. I am sure on some level she truly understands what it means to look different and to stand out. Unlike her, I can take off my kippah and “blend in” to feel safe. For a moment, I am putting myself in her shoes. But for now, she is asking about me.

After wearing a kippah almost nonstop for decades, I have decided in the wake of October 7 to not walk outside in America wearing a kippah. I am also careful not to go outside wearing any of my 50 Ramah hats, jackets, sweatshirts, and vests, which have Hebrew on them. 

This is eating me up. What a relief it was to go back to wearing a kippah full-time during two recent trips to Israel. For now, in America, I only wear a baseball hat and stay away from Hebrew clothing.

We have made other tough decisions. While our Jewish community was giving out “I Stand with Israel” signs to display on the front lawn, we opted not to – out of concern for our safety. This is not to say that local antisemites won’t come down our street looking for mezuzot or Shabbat candles kindled in the window, or lights left on for 25 hours for Shabbat.

I have always been a proud, comfortable Jew in America who never thought twice about displaying Jewish signs – on my home or person. 

These times are different. 

Before last Sunday’s “March for a Free Palestine” on the New Haven Green, the Jewish Federation of Greater New Haven reminded the Jewish community to avoid the area. Gail Slossberg, the CEO of the Jewish Federation wrote, “If you are downtown at that time, please have situational awareness. Do not engage with protesters.”

I was not in the area. And sadly, I am always wearing a baseball hat – with no Hebrew writing. 

The writer is a disabilities inclusion specialist and freelance writer living in New Haven, Connecticut.

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The original article is published at JNS.org

Julie Finkelstein of the Foundation for Jewish Camp says “there is lots of interest on the part of Israelis wanting to come, but they are still waiting,” due to the ongoing war with Hamas in Gaza.

When Jacob Cytryn, executive director of Camp Ramah in Wisconsin, was asked to share a story of the camp’s strong connections to Israel with the hundreds of delegates at the Foundation for Jewish Camp’s Leaders Assembly in Atlanta in December 2022, he recounted an emotional night in June 1967, just days after Israel’s stunning victory in the Six-Day War.

“Around midnight, the group of Israeli shlichim (‘emissaries’) descended from their rickety bus in the still, pitch-black Northwoods of Wisconsin after a trip that must have taken nearly 10 hours from the airport in Chicago and over a day since they departed from Israel. Exhausted, they walked into the auditorium, and the lights flicked on, and the entire camp erupted in cheers, song and dance. That June of 1967 changed the Jewish world. Many campers of that generation made aliyah and others felt forever connected to the promise of the modern Jewish state. And, 50 years later, their descendants in this room—in leadership and Jewish identity-building—still grapple with the miracle of Israel’s stunning victory and the thorny, complex and unresolved political and military morass it left in its wake.”

This summer, nearly 60 years after that war in Israel, Jewish summer-camp directors across North America are hoping that Israeli shlichim—an important source of inspiration, Israel education and experience, and labor—will show up this summer. If and when they do, the campers and counselors will be ready for them. After all, they, too, have had a challenging year. All three groups will arrive seeking the solace and sense of community that American Jewish summer camping has offered for generations.

Cytryn and fellow camp directors are hard at work preparing for a summer they hope will have Israelis on staff, as they have for decades.

Still, uncertainties remain due to Israel’s war in the Gaza Strip, “Operation Swords of Iron,” which started on Oct. 7—Shabbat and Simchat Torah morning—after the infiltration of Hamas terrorists across the border and into southern Jewish communities, murdering 1,200 men, women and children, and taking some 250 hostages (134 who still remain captive, with 32 confirmed dead).

At a summer camp run by the Union for Reform Judaism. Credit: URJ Camps.

And given the current realities in both Israel and North America, planning for this summer involves much more than recruiting Israelis, planning programs and outings, and purchasing food, basketballs and life jackets. Camps are also investing a great deal of time on staff training, camper and staff care, and security.

According to Julie Finkelstein, senior director of program strategy and innovation at the Foundation for Jewish Camp, “camps are moving full-steam ahead and want to hire Israelis, but they know the new shlichim are still up in the air due to the army/miluim [reservist service] and school. There is lots of interest on the part of Israelis wanting to come, but they are still waiting.”

The camps remain both optimistic and realistic, focusing on staffing since these issues affect operations.

“The camps are discussing how we responsibly tell the story of the past year with or without shlichim,” acknowledges Finkelstein.

The facilities are also bringing in security personnel to make sure that the grounds are as safe and secure as possible, and also working on an initiative with the Jewish Agency for Israel to bring 750 campers from areas near Gaza—along with staff and mental-health professionals—to Jewish camps this summer.

Still, Finkelstein notes, “there is less panic than you may think.”

FJC sees these unusual times as an opportunity. “It’s been a while since we’ve had to focus not on health and safety, but on what we are about—mission, vision and values.” As part of this process, FJC has planned two Israel trips for camp professionals so they can “bear witness and understand what is happening,” as well as show solidarity and help them “better talk about Israel at camp.”

Kids at Camp Ramah in the Rockies. Credit: Camp Ramah in the Rockies.

‘Grow, develop and not worry’

For some camps, talking about Israel will be natural and close to home.

Alan Silverman, who lives in Alon Shvut—a Jewish settlement in Judea and Samaria—and has been serving as director of Camp Moshava in Honesdale, Pa., for 38 years, reports that his camp is filled with Israeli staff and kids, including families who live in Israel. This summer, he is also expecting to include two groups of 40 campers displaced from the communities near Gaza, accompanied by Israeli staff members.

They will naturally be able to share firsthand stories of the current realities of Israel; nonetheless, Silverman faces many uncertainties as he plans for June, July and August. “The adults who made aliyah and are not army-eligible, and their young kids who are too young to serve, they will come. For the others, we don’t know,” he says. “I have some excellent staff from the woodworking, education and ropes programs who were all called up for army service. And we started doing interviews—out of 50, 45 were women—most men are in the army now.”

Counselors at Ramah Day Camp in Nyack, N.Y. Credit: Ramah Day Camp in Nyack.

Silverman, who usually expects staff members to honor their commitments to camp, is prepared to be especially flexible this season: “Everybody has family, friends and boyfriends in the army. They may not want to come, or they may need to go back.”

He has a number of mental-health professionals on staff, including many who live and work in Israel, and “understand the Israeli psyche and speak Hebrew.” They include psychiatrists, clinical psychologists, social workers and those who have experience working with the army and with people grappling with post-traumatic stress disorder.

Silverman, who expects to have 1,600 people in camp for the first session—noting in the same breath that he almost never leaves camp during the summer—will also be concentrating on the Jewish state. “I have three boys in the army. If things heat up, I may have to fly back and forth. Luckily, I have wonderful staff.”

For now, he is focused on all things camp-related. He is recruiting staff, reviewing security protocols and shifting educational curricula. While educational programming usually follows a five-year cycle, this year they will move to their “Shevet Achim” curriculum, which incorporates knowledge of Israel and antisemitism.

Silverman and other camp directors have not lost sight of the goals and importance of camp, saying kids need it now more than ever. Still, he said, “we need it to be a safe environment so campers can learn about and practice Judaism, have a great time, grow, develop and not worry.”

Celebrating “Israel Day” at Camp Ramah in California. Credit: Camp Ramah in California.

‘Coming to get away from it all’

Helene Drobenare-Horwitz, executive director of the Young Judea Sprout Camps, agrees and is already planning a week where staff both “own” the current realities and put them aside so they can create a strong, sound environment for their campers.

“There’s never been a year like this,” she attests. “There has never been an Oct. 7 or a year like this in the United States with such an uptick in antisemitism.” While Drobenare-Horwitz is sensitive to and preparing for the needs of her Israeli staff and campers, she points out that “we are preparing to support all staff—not just Israelis. There has been trauma on both sides of the ocean.”

At camp, one full day will be devoted to MESH (Mental, Emotional and Social Health) training. Drobenare-Horwitz  is working closely with trauma specialists to help create a “space for staff to unpack it and actively work on how to move forward.”

She feels strongly about stating that “we, as a Jewish people, have been through trauma.”

Once staff members begin to understand that trauma and work through it, they will be prepared to offer campers the experience they are coming for. After all, “camp is a place for kids. Lots will happen over the summer. We don’t want staff stopping every 10 minutes to check the news. Parents are not sending their kids to camp for that. They are coming to get away from it all.”

Havdalah at a summer camp run by the Union for Reform Judaism. Credit: URJ Camps.

Drobenare-Horwitz shares the expectation that staff be “fully present” at the interview. “I tell them, ‘If you can’t do that, this may not be the camp for you.” In interviewing Israelis to work at camp, she asks more questions than in past years so she has a better understanding of where they have been this year and how they have been impacted by the situation in Israel. “Did they serve? If not, did they volunteer? How was their family affected?” And she is conducting all interviews in person.

She remains keenly aware of the responsibilities that she and her team face this summer—much different than in other years. Namely, she states, the issue is how do we take care of the Jewish people?

“There are lots of different traumas coming to camp this summer—Israeli kids coming to camp, Americans who spent the year in Israel and (American) kids with stories of antisemitism,” she notes.

In the Reform movement, Ruben Arquilevich, vice president for Union for Reform Judaism (URJ) camps, National Federation of Temple Youth (NIFTY) and Immersives is proud that thousands of Israeli participants have cultivated deep friendships, community and sacred Jewish learning at our camps over the decades.

“These connections are year-round and lifelong,” he says.

In preparing for the summer, Arquilevich expects that the numbers of shlichim will be lower than in past years due to army reserve duty but points to “the great interest in Israeli teens joining Jewish camps across North America this summer.”

Celebrating Israel pride at Camp Ramah in the Poconos. Credit: Courtesy of the Foundation for Jewish Camp.

‘Boundaries, guidelines, tools, resources’

He explains that Campers2Gether (C2G)—a new partnership between the Foundation for Jewish Camp (FJC), the Jewish Agency for Israel and Mosaic United—aims to bring 75 groups of 20 Israeli teens (a total of 1,500) entering grades nine and 10, along with two group leaders and one MESSH support specialist per group, into second-session or post-camp environments for two-week visits to Jewish overnight camps across North America.

This program is designed specifically for teens who have been displaced from the Gaza Envelope in Israel’s south and the border with Lebanon in the north. In addition, the URJ Camps are continuing their longstanding partnership with the Israel Movement for Progressive and Reform Judaism (IMPJ), thanks to a generous anonymous donor, Reform and Progressive communities and congregations across Israel to URJ Camps for four-week camp experiences.

Passing around challah at a summer camp run by the Union for Reform Judaism Credit: URJ Camps.

Arquilevich says that “in preparation for the summer, we are developing culture and skills-building opportunities to create communities of belonging, including safety around diverse perspectives.” He stresses the need to provide a safe, educational environment for discussing Israel “while also setting clear boundaries, guidelines, tools, resources for staff in the camp environment.”

Back at Ramah Wisconsin, 57 years after those Israeli heroes of the Six-Day War arrived at camp, Jacob Cytryn is preparing for his Israeli delegation. Like his colleagues across the Jewish camping world, he acknowledges that he may not know until just before camp starts just how many Israelis will arrive.

Cytryn and his team are also preparing their “curricular response” to recent events in both Israel and North America. “I know cabin-age staff may want a break from the onslaught of the year, but I feel as an educator, we have a mandate to our parents to respond educationally.” While the details have not been fully worked out, he is clear about one thing: “We will adopt the theme of Kol Yisrael areivim zeh bah zeh—“All Jews are responsible for each other!”

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The Original Article is Published at JPost.com

Leah embraces the words of one of her many beloved rabbis and teachers who encourages people to “be where history is being written” – in Israel.

Leah Haziza came to Israel after high school for two very compelling reasons: “I felt very stuck in Greece – there was no way to get a significant Jewish education, and it was hard to meet Jews. And I came because my mother said to go!”

Her mother, Rebbetzin Shulamit Arar, knew a thing or two about Israel and leading a life committed to Jewish practice. She grew up in France to parents who left Romania for Paris before the Holocaust, then moved to the South of France. Haziza reports, “She was brought up in a Catholic boarding school. She always said that life started when people brought her to Bnei Akiva.”

Rebbetzin Arar made aliyah in 1960 to the religious Kibbutz Sde Eliyahu. She might have stayed in Israel her whole life had she not returned to visit family in France and met her future husband, Jacob Arar, a Greek rabbi in France at the time learning shechita (kosher ritual slaughter) and furthering his rabbinic training. They married, and Rabbi Arar went on to serve as chief rabbi of Athens for 46 years. They eventually made aliyah in 2011.

Leah Arar Haziza came to Israel earlier, making aliyah in 1987, inspired in large part by her mother.

“My mom always told me, ‘Greece is not our place.’”

A Greek national flag flutters as people visit a beach, following the coronavirus disease (COVID-19) outbreak, in Athens, Greece, April 28, 2020. (credit: GORAN TOMASEVIC/REUTERS)

Moving to Israel, studying at university

Leah’s aliyah came one year after high school, and although she concedes that her dream had been to see the world, she notes in heartfelt fashion, “The truth is, the world was here, in Israel, and I get to meet them!”

Leah continued getting to know the world at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem through her studies in international relations, along with courses in economics and Italian.

She recalls the experience as “pretty challenging.” She notes, “I went to college and did a four-year course, so I had to stay!” A tip she offers to other young olim.

The program and the experience of living in Israel were not easy. “It took me two years until I felt I was not in Athens but Jerusalem.”

Her pre-university mechina (preparatory program) helped expand her social world and her familiarity with Israeli society and helped improve her Hebrew language skills. She met many Americans and was invited to work in the Tikvah Program (for campers with disabilities) at Camp Ramah in Massachusetts, an experience she still values.

During her time at Hebrew U, she got involved with Bnei Akiva, the Jewish youth movement that had such a big impact on her mother. She also learned additional languages (she speaks four and understands five or six). She stresses the importance of knowing languages but concedes it is not always easy.

“I cried taking notes in Hebrew my first year – but you get better.”

She also notes the importance of making friends outside the university to ease the process of integrating into Israeli society. She volunteered through Gadna (a short IDF program)and participated in Jewish Bnei Akiva learning programs.

Jewish learning has become a central part of Leah’s life in Israel. She reflects on the lack of Jewish learning opportunities growing up in Greece and is delighted with the opportunities available in Israel. She notes how fortunate she was to have met the revered Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, who told her, ‘If your level of Judaism stays like that of a child, people will want to leave Yiddishkeit.”

“Through learning texts,” she says, “my Hebrew has become significantly better.” She has learned in many places and attended many shiurim, which only makes her want to continue to learn more.

After eight years of living in Israel, Leah met her husband, Netanel “Nat” Haziza, an architect born in Montreal who moved to Toronto for eight years before making aliyah in 1996.

Nat has a great deal of experience in architectural design and consulting, creating elevation facades for buildings, landscape architecture, and residential and interior design.

Leah is proud of her husband’s work and enjoys walking around Jerusalem with a person who truly understands, knows, and appreciates architecture.

Nat initially came to Israel on a tourist visa which, at the time, permitted him to work and “test it out.” He reports, “I felt at home and never looked back.”

Nat feels that having a good base in the Hebrew language was useful. He continued to “build on the base through work and interactions.” He is proud of his ability to write fluently in Hebrew as well. Having relatives and family friends in Israel also contributed to a smooth aliyah process.

“I had hashkafa pratit [Divine providence] from the minute I got off the plane! I quickly found work and met Leah within four months of arriving,” he says. They have a daughter, Tiferet, who is almost six.

OVER THE years, Leah has had many meaningful jobs and volunteer opportunities in Israel, such as working for CAJE (Coalition for the Advancement of Jewish Education), the Joint (JDC), The Center for Business Ethics & Social Responsibility/Machon Lev (Jerusalem College of Technology ), Chidon Hatanach International Bible Competition, and Hadassah Hospital and Hadassah Academic College. She has also served for decades as a translator from Hebrew and English to Greek, and from Greek to Hebrew and English for the courts, embassies, Foreign Affairs Ministry, and various other government and educational institutions.

In recent years, Leah has been working on various art projects and devotes a lot of time to her daughter, and currently, to working with children relocated from the South.

Leah acknowledges that this past year has been difficult, noting “We are all in pain.”

Yet, she says, “I have started to fall in love again with the map of Israel and the people of Israel.”

She observes that every part of life has ups and downs and points out, “For anything substantial, you have to choose it every day.”

She stresses the importance of “knowing why you are here and what you are giving” and reminds people that the Hebrew word kasheh (“difficult”) is “not a bad word.”

Leah feels that living in Israel has become easier over the years. Those considering aliyah have the benefit of better communication (including WhatsApp to stay in touch with family abroad), and such organizations as Nefesh B’Nefesh to assist in the aliyah process.

She notes playfully that these days, a person can “live in Israel without a word of Hebrew.” However, she encourages those considering aliyah to “invest in Hebrew, Jewish history, and emotional maturity.”

Leah embraces the words of one of her many beloved rabbis and teachers who encourages people to “be where history is being written” – in Israel.

She loves living here, stressing that “there is beauty everywhere” and that it “forces you to think about your relationship with Hashem.” ■

Leah Haziza From Athens to Jerusalem, 1987

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