Back from Be'er Sheva

I have every intention to continue posting about my recent three-day inservice down south, despite having returned several days ago... what can I do?  Life has continued -- studies, work, family -- it's all still there, but the stories I heard at Beit Yatziv are waiting to be told.  Stick around...

ALN

HH #193 - Get Off the Couch!

I missed contributing this week, but why should you miss reading it?  Now that the turkey's long digested, catch HH #193 here at Benji Lovitt's What War Zone (recommended, for Israel-minded laughs).

ALN

Winter is Coming... Keep it Bright

It's Sunday (again) -- time for Today's Flowers.

I was never all that fond of bougainvillea, but when we moved to the Moshav I came to appreciate all of their various shades.  This one is from last week's trip to Beit Yatziv (a continuing education center for educators, in the heart of  Be'er Sheva), where they've made quite an effort to keep their courtyards flowering and manicured, and it makes all the difference.  Winter may be coming, but the bougainvillea know how to keep things bright and cheery.

Keep the balance,

ALN

Blog Your Own

No time to write, so I leave you with this:  Internet news "papers" in are now outsourcing reporting.  I just can't get my brain around that one.  See Maureen Dowd's piece and decide for yourself whether to laugh or cry.

I hereby make a commitment to my readers not to outsource my material (aside from the occasional, warranted guest).

Keep the balance,

ALN

Live from Be'er Sheva 3 - Field Trip

In a few minutes we'll be getting onto a bus that will take us to visit local Beduin women and learn about their lives.  I don't know what to expect, but I intend to take notes and photos.  Stay posted..

ALN

Live from Be'er Sheva 2 - Nationality and Identity

Our first session this afternoon focused on a historical look at the concept of nationality (לאום) and religion, and how there tendency in Israel to confuse the two.  Since this was a short introduction to a very broad concept, I'll try to get back to it in a later post.

We just finished a workshop run by two group leaders from the Merchavim Institute, an organization I was not familiar with until today.  They have developed a model for shared citizenship which I plan to peruse soon.

In our group of 25 women from different cultures, working in two hospital schools here in Israel, we met in groups of two, and later four, to share personal answers to focus questions such as,

As a child, what did you want to be "when you grow up?"

What family customs do you remember growing up, that are important for you to continue observing even now?

Which women in your life have inspired your identity as a woman today?

What are some the traditional ways a woman in your culture prepares for her wedding?

The conversations that arose brought forth some fascinating interchanges, and in the group discussion afterwards we came to the conclusion that as women, we had a unique ability to identify with one another and find similarities while simultaneously making note of the differences.  We reviewed the idea that each of us comes with our own home-grown assumptions that we take for granted as the way to do things, and only when we meet someone with a different approach, can we begin to examine our own from a more removed perspective.

Toward the end of our recap, one of the group leaders posed a question:  Did you hear about anyone's family traditions that you wish you could adopt (or adapt) for your own?  

I was pretty surprised by some of the answers.  A couple of the Muslim participants said that they really liked the idea of Shabbat dinner, and that they wished they had a weekly event that would bring their families together for a meal.

Later in the afternoon we started out with a game, where we had to make our way down a path, occasionally collecting chocolate and drafting laws that would affect the entire group.  Some of us were given a head start.

The group dynamic waffled from excitement to wavering enthusiasm, as we all waited for certain groups to effect laws that might benefit all of us, or only the "majority."  There were other blatant discrepancies in the rights of various group members.  See the die?  It only goes up to three.  Note that two of its sides are completely blacked out, meaning that a third of the time, certain players weren't allowed to advance at all.

The day has completely tired me out, so for now you'll have to come up with your own societal metaphor for what took place here.  More tomorrow...

Keep the balance,

ALN

Live from Be'er Sheva

Be'er Sheva is a large-ish city at the Northern edge of the Negev, home to a population of 200,000 from a wide variety of cultures, from Iraqi and Russian immigrants to Beduins who have lived here and the surrounding desert for generations.  Among its many landmarks are the Ben Gurion University, known for its scientific research, a large art museum, and several additional educational sites, spread out over the city's approximately 23,00 acres.

I am here along with some of my colleagues for a three-day in-service training ("hishtalmut") in multicultural studies at Beit Yatziv, the Education Ministry's center for continuing studies in the humanities.  Our program includes about 10 hours a day of lectures, discussions and workshops, with lots of food in between.

Oops, time to get back to class.  More later.... stay posted.

Keep the balance,

ALN

Enough to Make Your Mouth Water

It's definitely more expensive than the supermarket, or the shuq (outdoor market), but sometimes, you just gotta do it - take the kids out to dinner in the mall and buy them a little treat afterwards.

  ...Or maybe it was just the Mommy guilt, knowing that I'm going away for three days.   Whatever.  The kids were happy about it, and I got in a couple of photos for this week's Ruby Tuesday.  (Don't worry, we didn't buy them that much candy!)

I'm off to Be'er Sheva, and I have no idea what the internet situation will be over there, so it may be a few days.  Meanwhile, as usual,

Keep the balance,

ALN

HH #192: Time for Thanks/Giving

Thanks to Ima on (and off) the Bima for this week's HH compilation.  

As usual, I will not be having turkey this year (see sidebar) and in fact I won't even be home... I have an in-service on Thursday morning in Be'er Sheva, followed by class that evening, in Jerusalem.  

But I will be taking time that evening to thank G-d for the drop in price of gasoline.

Keep the balance,

ALN

Succulents Bloom Too...

...and around here they often do it off-season.  This is from awhile back, but it's similar enough to what's going among the succulents.  I'm very attached to them, really.

At least my garden knows how to keep the [flower] balance, even if I don't always.

See all the other beautiful offerings here at Today's Flowers.

Happy Autumn!

ALN

A Visibly Beautiful Family

When beginning this blog, I didn't know what direction it would take.  After a decade of hospital work there were so many stories to tell, an endless backlog of small, moving moments. It was hard to start with anything, for fear of missing out something, or perhaps, for fear of being overwhelmed.

I'm really not into the maudlin.  Honest.  I'm not trying to make anyone cry, and I learned awhile back that Survivor's Guilt, in its various guises, has nothing positive to offer.  But now that it has a venue, the here-and-now campaigns urgently to reveal itself.

Here is today's story.

M lies in her mother's lap, her eyes nodding, sometimes rolling, upward and back, trying in vain to focus ahead of her.  Her limbs are heavy, flopped down beside her flaccid body.  She loves attention but cannot maintain eye contact, cannot lift her arms out to reach another. She does not talk, can barely form a smile.  A rare genetic illness has robbed her nervous system of control over her body, and her muscles have atrophied.  She is nearly five years old.

I enter the outpatient waiting room.  M's mother catches sight of me and we share a moment, both our faces lit up in mutual recognition.  How nice to see you, I begin.  It's been so long.

Actually, it hasn't.  She gives a sad smile.  This month we've been here every Sunday. Nobody sees us.  We're the invisible family.  M is the invisible girl.

I'm stunned.  I try to think back...  How could I have missed them all this time?  I make a quick calculation.  Last Sunday I didn't come in to the department.  The week before that? Too long ago to remember.    I'm sorry I missed you before, I tell her.  There's not much else to say.  Lame excuses certainly won't do here. 

It's no use.  Murphy's Law has demanded that I be called away at that moment on urgent staff business. I excuse myself, privately committing to return and sit with this "invisible" family before the day is through.

Sometime later -- but not much later -- I make my way back to Outpatient.  It's a Sunday, and the department is overflowing with hematology patients.  Before I can be pulled aside by a familiar kid requesting a puzzle, or a concerned mother inquiring after her daughter's studies, I beeline it for a smallish patient room at the end of the hall.

So, how are you these days? I ask M's mother, as I reach out to take her hand.  She is doing all right, she tells me.  Her life is taking care of M.  That's all she does, all she wants to do.  I listen, and the questions takes form inside... I hesitate, but something inside pushes a question out. What happens when you need a break? Who relieves you?  She smiles.

My sister, if I need to go somewhere for a few hours.  Or if M can't fall asleep at night, I wake my sister at 2 a.m. and she takes over so I can sleep a little.  But that's it.  That's all I need.  No one else knows how to take care of M like I do.  

I don't need a vacation.  Seeing her smile at me, knowing that she's comfortable and free of pain, that's my vacation.  The only one I need, for as long as she needs me.

M's mother continues.  She has four daughters -- the oldest is in medical school, the second youngest still in high school.  I am a mother of girls, she tells me.  I love being a mother of girls.  Once, there was a son.  He left them seven years ago, at age four.

G-d gave him to us, and then He took him back.  We pray for him, and he is Up There, praying for us, all the time.  We celebrate his birthday, every year. We pray and we have a cake.  I am very proud, that we had him, and that we could give him back.   I know he takes care of us from Up There.

M's mother relates all of this clearly in a sincere expression of love and understanding, devoid of irony or sorrow. Her life is full of meaning, as her son's death continues to be.  

I listen.   I am awed and bewildered by her clarity of purpose.  

And then, at that moment, life goes on.  Two women come into the room to say hello, and a mother's conversation ensues.  A joke about M's diaper peeking out from over her pink jumpsuit flows into an earnest discussion of the deplorable popularity of low-rise jeans that do little to cover one's undergarments.  No one is embarrassed these days, they lament. What is the young generation coming to?

I excuse myself to go on with my workday, and, eventually, M returns home, still in her mother's arms.

Keep the balance,

ALN

Mazal Tov Leah!!

Leah has won the Wells Fargo Someday Stories contest!  (See this post for background info and links).  Congratulations, Leah (and her mother, Evelyn, who entered the contest on behalf of under-age Leah).

ALN

Ruby Tuesday - First Attempt

It's Tuesday, so in an attempt to jump start myself, I'm joining Ruby Tuesday for the first time (Many thanks to Leora at Here in HP for her encouragement).

The ruby part is a bit subtle, which I like, but if you're one of those who thinks "mauve" is more accurate a description than "ruby,"  just consider it an extension of my avocado tree post.  

Keep the balance,

ALN

Gender Imbalance: The Examples Are on the Wall

Elder Princeski and I sat down yesterday afternoon to do her halacha (Jewish Law) homework. She has a textbook/workbook which she's not allowed to write in, so that the school can get several years' use out of it, so she writes her answers in a notebook.  

I do not like this workbook.  Apparently, it was designed exclusively for boys.  It contains little evidence that females even exist, and what scant evidence there is, is not encouraging. By this I mean that the book has almost no mention of girls, with the following seven notable exceptions (and yes, I went through the entire book):  

1.  A girl's name is cited in a question asking whether women are exempt from ritual handwashing.

2.  A woman's name is mentioned in connection with preparations for her wedding.

3.  A boy's mother is mentioned as taking care of him when he is ill.

4.  One exercise cites an unnamed female teacher posing a question to her [male] pupils.  

5.  A question cites a girl as having cooked on chag (a holiday), and her two brothers arguing whether her actions were permissible or not.

6.  Another exercise in the same chapter presents an example of a woman operating a washing machine to launder baby clothes during chol hamoed, and a man chastising her for doing so.

7.  Finally, in the chapter discussing the laws of gossip, girls' names suddenly appear in one-third of the exercise questions.  (I smudged out the author's name here, since I have no desire to besmirch him;  I do not blame him for the book's bias, since I"m assuming it's consist with the attitudes and outlook of his community.   I do hold the school responsible for using such a book.  Of course it goes without saying that only boys are pictured on the front cover).

I AM DISGUSTED.

My daughter probably would never have noticed the absence of girls in most of the questions, nor the skewed examples that do mention girls.  But I noticed right away, and it hurts.  Whether the intent of the publishers is to suggest that the information in the book is mostly irrelevant to girls -- except when cooking, cleaning and gossip is concerned -- or to keep lascivious thoughts far away from the minds of nine-year-old boys, is anyone's guess. 

I wonder why my daughter's school has chosen such a textbook.  What kind of educational institution sends such a message to its pupils, male or female?  Meanwhile, I've come up with these horrendous visions of what would be an American public-school equivalent:  Math textbooks written only for boys?  Science textbooks with no mention of natural history? Civics books that only cite white people?  

The problem is not limited to textbooks.  I remember walking into Elder P's classroom during the first asifat horim (aka, Back-to-School Night, in American parlance).  Her fourth grade class consists of 33 girls and one female teacher.  All the pictures on the boards around the walls featured.... yup, that's right.  Only boys.  And men (all with long beards, of course).  I could barely restrain myself from addressing the teacher about this, but I didn't feel it appropriate to start off the year with criticism, especially since the teacher had clearly made an effort to decorate the walls.   But it irked me:   A classroom full of girls whose very essence is blatantly absent from their daily surroundings. 

As the evening went on, I debated trying to improve the situation via other means, like volunteering to help the teacher with future classroom decorations.  But I hesitated yet again, not wanting to offend her by suggesting that her own efforts were inadequate.  By now I feel that enough time has passed, and I can offer my creative services without causing offense.

I do not want to raise my daughters with the burden of a heavy, Seventies-feminism, seek-out-the-unfairness approach.  At the same time, I cannot justify a book like this, which presents a consistent bias in its blatantly unbalanced examples.  It's hard enough to raise children to respect themselves and others.  Why does the religious school system insist on making it that much harder for us?

For now, Elder P and I have found a small solution to the workbook problem.  When writing out her exercise answers, I encouraged her to respond creatively regarding some of the names mentioned.  Thus Meir has become Meira, David is now Davida, and Yossi, Yosefa. By the time we get to the later laundry, cooking and gossip examples, I hope I'll have come up with additional creative methods of dealing with them.

Keep the balance,

ALN

Kid Central

Elder Princeski is just old enough to make her favorite dinner, pancakes.  She has finally finished her homework and is in a good mood.  I haven't yet told her about my in-service training next week. I figure this might be a good time to breach the subject.

ALN:  So, I have to tell you something:  Next week I'm going away for three days.

Elder Princeski:  What?!?  Three days?  Does this mean we won't see you?

ALN:  Yes.

Elder P:  (slightly perturbed)  Why are you doing this to us?

ALN:  I need to go away for work.

Elder P:  But what does that mean to us?

ALN:  Well, it means something to me.  It's for work.

(A pregnant pause, while she flips the pancakes).

ALN:  Wait, did you just say, What does that mean to us?

Elder P:  Why, do you wanna blog it?

ALN:  Yeah, actually.  I'll be right back...

Sometimes (always?) they see right through me.

Keep the balance,

ALN

HH #191 "Mama Rachel" Edition

Get it here.  And many thanks to this week's sleep-deprived Mama.  

ALN

Take It Slow...

This tree has been growing on our property for, well, longer than the property has been ours (we've lived here for about eight years and the tree's been around for over a decade). 

All this time, it remained small and barren. In fact, I had no idea what kind of tree it was... until this year. (Go ahead, take a guess.  Then scroll down).

Ready?

Did you guess avocado?  You win.  The fruit really disguise themselves among the leaves.  It took awhile before we even noticed them, and even then we saw only one or two (of course, we didn't have such great expectations, after all those years).   Now I've found six.  Or is it seven?

I took these pictures about a month ago.   The growth process is so slow, it'll be quite a few weeks before we can pick the avocados.  Meanwhile the tree has already begun another reproductive season, and it's got new blossoms, about to open.  

Everything around here is rush, rush, rush, all the time, but not the avocado.  I won't overdo the metaphor;  you can work out the rest.

Take it slow.... avocado.

Keep the balance,

ALN

FIRE!!

As I write, over forty thousand people in Southern California have been evacuated from their homes, as fires rage through neighborhoods, homes and schools.  Pictures are here, c/o the Los Angeles Times.  

My parents, thank G-d, live about fifteen miles away from the nearest fire.  For now, people in their area are not being ordered to evacuate.  But I remember fifteen years ago, being far away at college, eyes glued to the TV -- as the fires advanced toward my home.  Meanwhile my parents and their neighbors were gathering up pets and photos, loading their cars and heading to a designated school-shelter, a few miles away.

To see the news, you might think that the movement of a fire that large is hard to miss and easy to predict.  This isn't the case.  A fire can tear across a city at about two miles an hour, especially when strong winds are involved.  Last year a similar fire made its way through large sections of California, including both residential and forested areas.  My mother's friend had a daughter living in a suburban town, far from any forest.  The fire was forty miles away, and she and her family went to sleep, feeling far away from it all.

They awoke the next morning to a phone call from their neighbor.  The fire is closing in. Run for your lives.  They ran.

Their house burned to the ground.  They lost everything.

In my parents' area, when a fire approaches the local emergency services enact what is called a "Reverse 911," that is, everyone in the area receives a recorded phone call from 911 instructing them when to evacuate and where to go.  My mother's friend's daughter received no such call. Her neighbor took action and called her.  She did not assume that her neighbor had heard about the fire from another source.  

Like most others in Israel, our neighborhood has a phone list (what's known in Israel as a daf kesher), which is probably the most wrinkled paper on the refrigerator.   We have used this list for day-to-day events, such as kids' sleepover invitations, recipe swaps and meeting arrangements.  We have also used it to share tragic news, like the time three years ago that two of us took it upon ourselves to call every household, one after the other, in order to personally deliver the terrible news that our neighbor had just been killed in a car crash.  

That should be the last time we use the list for such a thing.

But if there's ever a question, a doubt, whether someone you know has already adjusted the car seat straps, checked that wailing house alarm, pulled over to the car on the side of the road, or passed along the latest news update -- assume you are the only one.  Take action. Make the call. 

Keep the balance,

ALN

Are YOU Being Googled?

This from the New York Times online:

There is a new common symptom of the flu, in addition to the usual aches, coughs, fevers and sore throats. Turns out a lot of ailing Americans enter phrases like “flu symptoms” into Google and other search engines before they call their doctors.

That simple act, multiplied across millions of keyboards in homes around the country, has given rise to a new early warning system for fast-spreading flu outbreaks, called Google Flu Trends.  (Read the rest of the article here).

All good and well, but doesn't it make you wonder what else they're tracking, without our knowledge?  Our Blogger blogs, among other things...

תהיו בריאים -- Keep healthy this winter.

Keep the balance,

ALN

Passion Runneth Over

The passionfruit are growing like crazy.  Our neighbors' vine is dripping with fruit -- over fifty, by our latest estimate.... and counting.

(And a big thank-you to That Guy I Married, who recommended altering the gamma on this photo, which, as he subsequently explained to me, has something to do with accentuating light and dark areas, which did indeed enhance the photo).  Yet another way to...

...keep the balance,

ALN

...and Patients' Rights

What do you think of this?  

The National Women's Health Network has been passing the following notice around cyberspace (I have quoted the notice in full since I'm assuming their intention is to spread the word to as many people as possible, and thus they are not picky about copyright issues).

Protest Genital Cosmetic Surgery!

Join NWHN ally, the New View Campaign, on November 17 in New York to protest the genital cosmetic surgery industry that is medicalizing women's sexuality!

Genital cosmetic surgeries like labiaplasty and vaginoplasty are on the rise. Surgeons who promote these procedures claim that they restore and enhance the appearance of the vaginal area, resurfacing and tightening the tissues to reclaim the “youthful appearance and function of the vulvar and vaginal area.” Women assume that these new surgeries are safe and effective, but in fact the claims are unsubstantiated by research, and there’s some evidence that they may create new health problems, as well as promoting a narrow and unrealistic idea of what women’s genitals should look like.

Most women don’t even know that the American College of Obstetrics and Gynecology doesn’t support these cosmetic genital enhancement surgeries and has publicly said that “it is deceptive to give the impression that [these procedures] are accepted and routine" and has stressed that their safety and effectiveness have not been documented.

To raise public awareness of this assault on women’s health and well-being, the New View Campaign will stage a protest on November 17 outside a cosmetic genital surgeon’s office in New York City from 12 - 2PM. The specific location will be posted on http://www.fsd-alert.org/ on November 16. We urge NWHN members – particularly those in the NYC area -- to join the protest.

The New Campaign is an ally of the NWHN, which demands new regulations requiring that women requesting these procedures receive adequate information about possible scarring, chronic pain, obstetric risks, loss of genital sensation, reduced erotic pleasure, and post-operative anxieties. It also calls for independent post-procedure research to determine the extent of these adverse reactions.

My mom felt this notice was blogworthy, and thus forwarded it to her blogging family member (yours truly).   As of a quarter to six this morning, my response to her was as follows (with some minor grammatical changes, for clarity):

The physicians making these inaccurate medical claims are being irresponsible and should be treated accordingly, like any other physicians who act irresponsibly.  But what about the people who seek the surgery?  I mean, who the heck doesn't do research before committing their bodies, time, and money to elective surgery of this nature?  Also, I would think that the kind of research they are demanding here is appropriate regarding all types of surgery.

I'm sure there was the same uproar before other cosmetic procedures -- breast enhancement surgery, and botox, and all the rest --  reached their current popularity, and now they're all acceptable practices.  If people insist on demanding unnecessary and risky surgery for the sake of beauty,  I'm not sure the medical world will convince them otherwise, with the exception of the few who could benefit from psychological therapy, to help them with their low self esteem, which led them to want such surgery in the first place.

Having reviewed my original response, I would make a few minor changes to further clarify my response;  namely, that I am not at all belittling people with low self esteem, and that I understand that this is only one of many reasons women seek cosmetic surgery.

Does this fall under the guise of the West's version of medically-sanctioned genital mutilation?  Weigh in, dear readers (including you, Mom, and your friends...)

Keep the balance,

ALN

Customer's Rights...

Isn't this heartwarming...

HOT Cable Systems Media Ltd. (TASE: HOT) was recently handed a court order to pay NIS 2,750 to a customer for the financial damage caused him when their technician failed to turn up....

The "Technicians Law" was recently enacted under which customers who wait longer than two hours for a technician are entitled to receive NIS 300 compensation from the company without any need to prove damage and NIS 600 for waiting more than three hours after the appointed time.

Read the rest here at Globes Online.  For those of us who've been waiting for the asimon* to drop over here in the Middle East, it's finally happening.  Spread the word.

Keep the balance,

ALN

* An asimon is (or rather, was) a token used in public phones.  It was about the size of a nickel, with a hole in the middle and a groove running through the center.  The Hebrew phrase nafal li ha-asimon -- נפל לי האסימון -- is the equivalent of "the penny dropped," i.e. I finally figured it out.  We still say it, despite the fact that these coins have long been replaced by plastic cards, which hardly anyone uses these days anyway, considering the national average of  +/-1.5 cellphones per person here in Israel.

Don't Panic! HH # 190 Is Here

The U.S. elections are over, and it's time to calm down and get to work.  Take the time to enjoy HH #190, available right here at Jewlicious.

(And for those of you in Israel, remember to vote in the municipal elections tomorrow.  Finding a balanced candidate will be tough, but we can try).

Keep the balance,

ALN

What We're Used To

What began as a comments on Conversation in Klal's recent Seminary post (read her post first to understand the context of mine) has morphed into its own entity.

My year in seminary, here in Israel, was one of the most meaningful and impacting in my life, both in terms of learning, and being in Israel. During that year, I learned more about Jewish thought and practice than all years prior or thereafter. I spent time with incredible teachers, who opened their homes to us throughout the year. My hesed (community service) project was working with kids in the hospital, which eventually led me to... a career working with kids in the hospital. I grew up in a nonreligious home and attended public school, so I had quite a lot of catching up to do in terms of Jewish learning, but by age 18 I was mature enough to make up quite a bit of it in only one short but intensive year. (I wanted to stay on for a second year, but that's another story...) My Rabbanit helped prepare me for the year by tutoring me in some pre-catch up catch up, and my parents generously funded a summer in ulpan to help me improve my Hebrew. (Ulpan was an intensive experience in an of itself, but that is yet another story, for another time,. In retrospect, the time and money investment proved invaluable later, when I returned to Israel to stay). Yes, that year was expensive (seminary cost less then, but still). I am thankful that my parents could afford it, and that they chose to support my wishes to attend seminary in Israel. I am fully aware that these days, this type of expense does not fit into many family budgets.

But allow me to look at the economic issue another way (and like Prof K, I'll probably get some flak for this too, and so be it). You might say my parents had more money to spend on one year of seminary because they didn't "waste" money all those years paying outrageously extravagant day school tuition, when there was an excellent public school freely available two blocks away. Back then, my family didn't have a choice -- unlike today, there were no Jewish private school options anywhere near my home town -- but if we're talking about educational luxuries, why stop at seminary? Some (I among them) would argue that Jewish day schools, with their ridiculous high prices, should not automatically be considered a necessity these days, but rather, a luxury. I would guess that the cost of a semi-private tutor for Jewish studies, split among the families even a small group of kids, has got to be significantly less than day school tuition.  

I know most religious Jewish people outside of Israel view Jewish day school as a given, and that no parent in his right mind would dare send his kids to public school. But those of us who didn't have the option as kids, don't necessarily view it as a necessity now, either.  Would religious families who chose to send their kids to local public schools, despite the availability of a local Jewish school, be shunned by the community? My guess is, yes, they would.

I see the irony in the idea that my own kids are growing up in a completely different situation, where public school IS Jewish school and costs under $1000/year (including books). Despite the many advantages, I'm not completely comfortable with the state education system having such a dominant role in the formulation of my children's religious beliefs. But -- you guessed it -- that's another story.

Maybe it all comes down to what we're used to...

Keep the balance,

ALN

The Legacy We Could Have Gained

I have to agree with David Bogner here at Treppenwitz.   We all know there were some - a very few -  that were misguided enough to support the assassination.  But shame on those self-appointed Leftist "leadership" (capital L), whose character assassinations demonstrate that they would rather be staunchly Left, than right.  

Like so many others, I remember being shocked and saddened on that Saturday night in November, and in the days that followed when I stood in line, along with people of all ages, religious and political beliefs, to pay our last respects at the Knesset.   

The mourning of an assassinated prime minister should never have become a political event.  It is a national event, a national loss, a national disgrace.  In the shadow of Rabin's assassination, our country's "leaders" did nothing to encourage a feeling of unity, and by now I fear we have gotten used to this national bifurcation as the status quo, even -- especially? -- on national days of mourning.

Not nearly enough balance here.

ALN

Update: It's Over, Now What?

(If you're not caught up, or your memory is as bad as mine, go read the original post here).

I had the good fortune of seeing K and her mother last week. K had chosen to spend those two long hours (between swallowing the CAT scan medicine and the scan itself) in our classroom, joining our school activity. She ran off to join one of our teachers in an interactive computer lesson, while I sat down to chat with her mother. So, how's everything going? I ask.

K's Mother: Well, I know what you would say (giant smile) -- Everything is going at the pace it's supposed to go. You know, K is doing really well in school. I was worried about that, really worried. But she completely caught up over the summer, her teachers are really happy with her progress, and she's having no trouble in math or computers or any of the other subjects.

ALN: Not a single one of us here was worried about her schooling. We all know she's a very bright kid. But you know, even though she's doing well in school, it's very likely that she still thinks a lot about what happened to her here, about her treatment, and that she'll still want to talk about it, even a year or two from now.

K's Mother: Oh, she already does talk about it! Not all the time, but sometimes.

ALN: I'm very glad to hear that. I was a little concerned about that, because I know K is a private kind of person.

K's Mother: No, you don't have to worry. She doesn't always talk to me, but she talks. (Hearty laugh). You know, I was reminded about your art therapy the other day....There's a ceramics group opening up at our local community center, and I was thinking....

ALN: For K?

K's Mother: No, for me!

K's mother went on to tell me that she's suddenly felt an urge to go back to painting, or maybe even trying a new thing, working with clay. It sounds like the whole family really is finding their way to a "new normal."

Keep the balance,

ALN

Another Typical Day at the Office

That's a misleading title, but it conveys the ironic reminder that I can label a workday "typical" only by virtue of its originality.  And no, I don't have an office.  Wish it were so...

This morning two Jewish girls, ages ten and thirteen, have sat down at the center table to join a medical play session.  The older girl, E, is large, bloated by steroids that have -- inexplicably -- helped to keep her bone tumor in check over the years.  She pulls up to the table with her usual high-spirited, dominating presence.   T, in  stark contrast to E, has a frail look, fine dark features and a wool cap pulled down low over thinning eyebrows.  Within seconds of arriving, these two have sunk into quiet conversation.

Across from them sits H, demanding my attention.   I am still setting up the supplies for our therapeutic medical-play session, but H's all-too-clear Arabic and four-year-old antsy-ness announces that he wants to start right now.

One by one, I help these three start designing their therapeutic dolls' faces.  Following that task is the all-important decision of whether, and how generously, to apply hair to the dolls' heads, each choice reflecting that child's particular stage of treatment and development.  E and T have decided to attach some hair, But not too much, T explains, since it might fall out soon.  H opts to leave his doll devoid of hair, paralleling his own state.

Our therapy group proceeds, with each child caring for her doll -- inserting a vein catheter, taking a blood sample, injecting Heparin (a drug that prevents clotting) and other tasks.  E moves from one action to the next, looking at me for guidance as to what she must do next.

What do I do with this? she asks, regarding a test tube full of "blood" (really, water dyed with red drink concentrate).   You send it to the lab, of course, I reply, without a trace of irony.  E stifles a giggle and steals a glance at T, three years her junior, for confirmation that it's OK to take all of this so seriously.  T offers a sly smile and nods.  She, like E, understands that this play is both imaginary and far too real.

Behind me a baby has started to cry.  His mother is nowhere to be found.  He alone lies on the bed, crying, crying, wailing.  The outpatient room is large, spacious enough for ten patients and several staff.  But this helpless child has all of our attention, making it impossible to focus.  The nurses are running around trying to reach all the children, but they keep glancing at the baby as another minute passes, and another, and his mother has not returned.   Her phone lies next to him on the bed, ringing and ringing as he screams.

He is miserable, and so are we.  There is no choice.  I turn around and pick him up.

A minute later all three of the children are laughing as I stand, bouncing, alongside the table trying to return our focus to the task at hand.  I gently toss a couple of catheter stoppers toward E as the now-peaceful baby sleeps against my shoulder.  Now it's time to hook up the fluids.  T, can you pass that stopper over to E?   She does, and we proceed in our play.  The baby's mother finally returns (she had been speaking with the physician) and once again I sit down  at the table, asking,  Now, where were we?  

More giggles...

Keep the balance,

ALN

She Expresses It So Well

Beyond the fact that her very name completely enamors me, Verlyn Klinkenborg has done it again -- just how does she write like that?  

I am jealous, and inspired.

Keep the balance,

ALN

HH #189 Is Up...

Find the Elections Edition here at Esser Agaroth.  I'll be checking it out as soon as I can find a string of seconds free.... 

(In all my years here, I still haven't quite gotten used to not having Sundays....)

Happy voting.

Keep the balance,

ALN