I am one of them. “My war” ended for my town on April 10, 1945, though the country officially surrendered on May 9, 1945. I was approaching my 7^th birthday that August.

What does it mean, the war ended?

No more enemy attacks, no more bombs raining out of the sky and trying to make it to a bomb shelter. Not much else changed. The economy was in shambles, buildings were in ruins, displaced persons were everywhere competing for much reduced housing. Food was scarce and few goods were available. The “black market” boomed with cigarettes as prized currency. read more

Tennis, dance, swimming, paddling, gym workout, stairs—all my life I’ve been an active person, though the particular sport or exercise has changed from time to time. I wonder now, as my physical world has shrunk, if I am what I do. If so, there’s not a whole lot left of me.

Now, as cancer consumes my body and I have lost more weight than I ever intended, I ask myself: how identified are we with our bodies? Who are we when our bodies fail us? When illness—or accident or age—diminish our abilities, do they also diminish us as people?
No one today would call me the Energizer Bunny, as my sister and some friends dubbed me in the past. On the other hand, I know that being fit has made the journey easier.
***
“Anything I can do to help?” I pose this question to my friend who is packing up to go home to Florida after almost a week’s visit with me. She faces her own physical limitations caused by various illnesses and a recent fall that resulted in a severely broken leg. read more

The Book of Ruth, which was just read in synagogues around the world on the Festival of Shavuot, offers a canonical story of a Jew by choice and a powerful narrative of migration that makes the book contemporary. The customary reading of the book pays attention to Ruth’s traditional female attributes of devotion/loyalty to her mother in law, Naomi. These qualities are etched in her poetic declaration as a Jew by choice, “for where you go, I will go, where you lodge, I will lodge; your people are my people, and your God is my God.” Ruth is clearly an agentive woman who takes on marriage with an Israelite migrant and after her husband’s death chooses to join her mother in law and opts to become a migrant in the land of Judah. read more

On Shavuot Jewish people traditionally read the Book of Ruth. As in many Jewish texts, The Book of Ruth can be understood in many ways. We can see Ruth as a metaphor for the Jewish people, accepting a peoplehood and a faith without really knowing what it entailed. We admire the story of Ruth and its portrayal of deep friendship and loyalty. Ruth is a true friend to Naomi despite the fact that Naomi felt hopeless and bitter. I have always appreciated the book and its pastoral backdrop and reference to the days that Jews lived closer to nature and the seasons. But this year I realized something very different. Ruth and Naomi were poor. Returning to Bethlehem widowed, homeless and weak they experienced all the insecurities and humiliations of poverty. Their futures were bleak. They were vulnerable, hungry and alone. read more

“You shall dwell securely in your land.
And I will grand peace in the land and you shall lie down untroubled;
And I will give you respite from vicious beasts and no sword shall cross your land.
You shall pursue your enemies, and they shall fall before you by the sword.
Five of you shall give chase to a hundred and a hundred of you shall give chase to ten thousand;
Your enemies shall fall before you by the sword.” (Leviticus 26:6-8)

The promise of peace and security in the land is the second in a set of blessings in Leviticus, and it comes right after the blessing for agricultural abundance—timely rain and rich crops. The opening of the blessing for peace comes right after the blessing for abundance —“you shall dwell securely in your land,” which is followed by the promise “I will grant peace in the land.” This in turn, is followed by an overall security, that is, a blessing for security against natural disasters (vicious beasts) and against invading armies (“and no sword shall cross your land) and then the blessing for victory over enemies, and the idea that few shall prevail against the many (five of your shall give chase to a hundred]. Thia idea of few against many has been transmitted and woven into the history of the people of Israel for centuries and throughout the generations. read more

I am in a signature store in Rochester N.Y. and I ask one of the employees about the fresh corn in the produce section. It is a high-end store and I admire the pile of the first of the season corn that I am about to buy. In front of this abundance a woman standing next to me says, “Where are you from? I noticed that you have an accent.” I have heard the question countless times since 1976 when I came to America as a graduate student. I say, “Where do you think I came from?” With a triumphant voice she says, “Russia.” I should have left it at that. Yet, being an anthropologist I am interested in the cultural assumptions that frame this recurrent encounter on accent and identity. read more

There was an article in Ha’aretz yesterday by Naomi Daron, “An Odyssey from Birthright to the BDS Movement,” an account of how the jingoism of the Birthright movement has turned many young Jews in the opposite direction, and has led them to question and challenge some of their assumptions about the conflict between Israel and Palestine. The most striking quote from the article is from a young 24-year old American, who climbed with his birthright group up Masada, and when he got there the group leader made the following statement. He said he had Italian neighbors “and they’re wonderful, but if I had to decide whether to save their lives or the life of one Jew, I would choose to save the Jew. If I had to choose to save 100 non-Jews or one Jew, I would save the Jew.” And I am told that that the English version of his article is bowdlerized, and the Hebrew extended the comments—the Birthright leader on Masada continued to raise the stakes—1000 non-Jews vs one Jew, concluding that he would rather save the life of a single Jew than all the victims of the Japanese tsumani in 2006. (Please Ha’aretz, fully translate your articles into English.) read more

The first step in solving any social problem is learning how to pay attention and to observe what is happening. To be an ordinary citizen, one must become an anthropologist or historian, detached enough to try to evaluate the situation without preconceived prejudices, but someone who deeply cares enough about it to really try and understand it carefully. Or to put this another way, in every social situation, besides the participants and protagonists, there are observers, who usually are content to sit on the sidelines and watch. read more

“Mom, cheer up. You’re still here. Cancer is just a word, a scary word, but just a word.”
On her plane ride from California, Miriam had started reading the library books she had brought for me. Neither of us had ever heard of Dr. Bernie Siegel, but we quickly found out that he specializes in helping people who face imminent death from illness to live fully and to die in peace.

As Miriam and I hugged tightly, I took a deep breath and tried to stanch my sobs. A week earlier I had received the definitive cancer diagnosis. Only hours after that phone call we had begun the first Passover Seder. Instead of being in California, as planned, with Miriam and her children, my husband and I were home in Rochester with understanding friends. Throughout, one thought hounded me: this, and tomorrow night’s, could be my last Seders. I hadn’t yet had all the diagnostic tests that would show where the cancer was, how much it had spread, where exactly I was affected. But I was frightened and shaky throughout the supposedly festive meals. read more