The Holy Land

I just wanted to put up a really quick post about something that I am SO excited about.

In 2 weeks (actually, a little less) I'll be going to Israel.

The trip is organized (AND PAID FOR!) by an amazing organization called Taglit-Birthright Israel. It's funded by the government of Israel, local Jewish communities, and private donors. It pays for 10-day trips to Israel for people aged 18-26 who are either Jewish or have 1 Jewish parent and don't practice any other religion. I applied for it back in September and I am soo soooo excited that it's coming up so soon.

Obviously the real time to talk about this is when I get back and I have good pictures and stories to tell, but I guess I have a couple thoughts to share now, although it's mostly my excitement that I wanted to share because I have little idea of what to expect. I guess that some of the things that I think will be particular highlights are that we're doing a winery tour & wine tasting, I think we get to ride camels, have a bonfire in the desert and have Shabbat at the Western Wall, a bonfire in the desert, floating in the Dead Sea, and if I'm reading the itinerary correctly, we get to volunteer together as well.

I am really, really grateful for the opportunity - not only to go to Israel, but to go to Israel for free and as part of a group of other Canadians my age to experience this with.

I'm not entirely sure what kinds of hopes and expectations I have for the trip, or maybe I just can't articulate it. The night before I went to TEDxCalgary I decided that my goal would be to be open to whatever the day had for me, and I'd say that is my top goal. I think that when I had that as my goal at TED it helped me to be as open to what the day had in store for me as I possibly could have been, and while I don't feel like I followed through on the inspiration that I felt at TED, I would definitely still say that the day was a success and that my goal helped it be the success that I feel it was.

Another goal that I have is to try and learn lots of new things. I don't think that it's possible to go on this trip and not learn new things, but I just thought it should be said.

I'm a little worried that I expect it to change my life. I don't want to walk in there thinking that these 10 days will change everything and be disappointed. I think it will change my life but I don't want to expect it to. So I don't know what to make of that.

Anyways, I can't believe it's only 13 days away! I can't wait to experience all the things that are there for me and for my new friends (that's the other thing - I'm really looking forward to meeting other Canadian Jews my age and hopefully making new friends!) and I know that the memories will absolutely last the rest of my life and I'm really excited about it.

13 days, 13 days... Amazing. I am so lucky.

Stars of David

This morning I picked up a book I haven't read in a little while, but one that has made a huge impact on my life.


It's called Stars of David, by Abigail Pogrebin and it's a compilation of interviews she did with a group of "prominent Jews" (as is written on the cover). I don't remember exactly what made me actually buy it in the first place, but I very vividly remember seeing it at Chapters and being immediately drawn to it. After seeing it a few times, I picked it up and started reading it on a car trip to Olds to meet my cousins who were vacationing in . I remember opening it and reading the introduction and reading "... I consider myself a journalist, not a sociologist..." and thinking, as the questioning natural science major that I was at the time "I've done it again". Around the same time, I had seen a movie called Mixed Blessings at the Calgary Jewish Film Festival and I was very drawn to the film (it's about interfaith marriages between Jews and non-Jews, something of which I am the product of). I emailed the film maker, Jennifer Kaplan, and asked her what she studied in school, and her answer (which was no surprise to me at this point) was that she had studied sociology.


Anyways, these two pieces really made me think about where my university life was going. I had no interest or passion for the natural sciences and felt just on fire by this book and movie. I had always felt less than whole when I heard people say things like "just do what you're passionate about" or "follow your passion" or whatever, and I was always so disappointed in myself that I didn't feel that way about anything. I guess that's when I discovered what that passion was. I'm still not sure if I could explain it or do justice in mere words what I'd say my passion is. The best I can do is "Sociology" and "Judaism" - two things that I think are increasingly difficult for me to define, even as I feel I learn much more about both every day (which is how it goes, I think).


What's interesting to me now, looking back at that year when I found a book and a movie that would change my life are a few things. One is that I don't really think I realized that sociology and Judaism in Canada were interests of mine that could coexist as easily as I have since realized: that studying sociology could be a way that I learned about who I am as part of a bunch of different communities (Calgarian, Jew, Canadian, woman, feminist, etc). I guess that at that point, I didn't realize that school could be a way to do the things you love, not something that keeps you from those things. I think I also didn't realize the extent to which who I was would change. I think it's why I'm so drawn to writing and to films, because I'm very aware of how much they can change another person you don't know and will never meet. And because I'm so grateful to Abigail Pogrebin and Jennifer Kaplan for putting themselves out there and starting these projects that would change my life in what I perceive as very profound ways.

Oh Canada....

I know that we Canadians have our quirks and there are lots of things we do well and lots of things we do not so well, but I've been thinking about how lucky we are. There's lots and lots of things we should be grateful for, like freedom, the right to vote, and lots of other things that we are truly very lucky to have, but......

I guess I've had a couple of very Canadian experiences the last couple days that I really enjoyed. The first one was being on the bus coming to Edmonton and I brought a bunch of DVDs to watch on my laptop on the way up. I, in my infinite wisdom, forgot that my laptop has no DVD drive. Luckily the bus has wireless internet and I started watching Fubar on Netflix. Now, not that Fubar is necessarily the best example, but I was thinking how cool it was to be going from my Alberta city to another Alberta city and watching a movie that was made right here in Alberta. I know this seems kind of silly, but I just so enjoyed all of my Albertan-ness in that moment.

My other very Canadian moment was today when I took a jog in Edmonton's breathtaking river valley.

So, Edmonton isn't so bad after all (even though most of us Calgarians won't admit it happily). Anyways, while I was experiencing some of the most beautiful urban nature that we are so privileged to enjoy, I was listening to Stuart McLean podcasts from The Vinyl Cafe. For those of you who aren't aware, The Vinyl Cafe is a long running (and wonderfully fantastic) radio show on CBC. I first fell in love with The Vinyl Cafe in my high school best friend's parents' van, in which I spent a lot of time. Kate and I were totally inseparable and I used to be invited along to a lot of their family events and even a few great road trips. I'm pretty sure that the only radio stations that that van received were CBC stations. I remember listening to The Vinyl Cafe on Sundays and to CBC from Tofino, BC all the way back to Calgary after being on the island for three weeks. Anyways, I decided that one thing I could do while I jog is listen to The Vinyl Cafe podcasts (thank you CBC :) - I can't really listen to music because it ruins my pace). So today I enjoyed a Vinyl Cafe show helping commemorate the CBC's 75th anniversary (way to go CBC!). I'm not totally sure I've had many happier experiences; I can't even explain how much I was enjoying myself. Nothing like enjoying some amazing Canadian scenery and enjoying something as Canadian as The Vinyl Cafe. And I will be doing that again.

My second Vinyl Cafe podcast I listened to was the show from Oct. 8, and it included The Arthurs, which is described by the website as "awards that recognize acts of kindness and generosity that, too often, go unnoticed". The only one I actually heard before I reached my hotel was a nomination from a man whose father bought a vacation home when he was four years old and had sold it 46 years later. Every time they would leave the cabin, they would say goodbye when passing under a set of Christmas lights that had been there the whole time they had been vacationing at this property. This man wanted to nominate the person who had strung and maintained these Christmas lights through the years, whoever it was. I really can't tell the story right but I was completely crying on the street in Edmonton, but would highly recommend that you hear how the story pans out (http://www.cbc.ca/podcasting/includes/vinylcafe.xml - it's the one from October 8th - The Arthurs).

So thanks to this amazing country and for all my fellow citizens who make this country what it is. I know that there are lots of things that we can and need to improve, but I'm very thankful for this wonderful, beautiful, diverse, cooperative (and polite) nation and our fabulous people.

I Will be a Hummingbird

A few years ago I had the distinct pleasure of seeing Professor Wangari Maathai speak at a "Power of Women" event. I had never heard her name before and have to admit I was a little more excited to hear Barbara Walters and Erin Brockovich (both of whom were pretty darn cool to see too). However, when Wangari Maathai stepped on to the stage and started talking, I was mesmerized.

Please, please watch the video below to hear the story she closed with.



There's literally nothing that I can say that even does justice to some of the other amazing things she shared that day, but I would definitely recommend reading some of her books, especially her memoir, Unbowed. Here's a link to her books that are available at the Calgary Public Library.

She was an amazing woman and an amazing human being. Reading her memoir and getting just a taste of what she went through in her lifetime was completely inspiring. I think the most amazing thing about reading the memoir was how she never seemed to lose hope that she could really make change happen (or perhaps just that change is possible).

The basic background that you need to know is that she started an environmental organization in Kenya called The Green Belt Movement, which plants trees in Africa to help protect against the erosion that makes it difficult if not impossible for the people there to grow food (rather than cash crops like coffee) to support their lives, create firewood for fuel and provide jobs for women. She was also the first African woman to win a Nobel Peace Prize.

Here's a New York Times article that was written when she passed away on September 25 this year. I have to say that though I'm not sure a lot of us understand how much impact this one person had on our earth (I know I don't), it is a true loss for the human race.

Judaism and Vegetarianism

I'll be quick here because I'm on my way to a family brunch, but I just wanted to post some really quick thoughts that I had last night when I attended a talk called "Eatin in Eden: Judaism and Vegetarianism" last night at the Calgary Jewish Community Centre as part of a series called "Just Jew It" (funny, no?)....

I have spent a lot more time in Christian churches than the average Jew has, and I think I discovered something more that draws me to Jews and Judaism last night. And it's something more thought-through than just feeling like this is a place that I (at least kind of) belong. Last night, the speaker was Rabbi Michael Skobac, from an American organization called "Jews for Judaism".  I'd like to post some of my thoughts about the content of his talk (like all the other talks that I've skipped over but still would like to share thoughts about, like 3-month-old thoughts about TEDxCalgary... but that's another story).  Aside from loving the fact that the crowd had to be shushed a million times and that multiple conversations go on between small groups of people and all the other, more superficial observations, I feel like in Judaism you are kind of enough, if that makes sense.  I feel like you should try and be the best you you can be (and not think that you are inherently a sinner) and when you bring your best version of you to the proverbial (or actual, I guess) table, you will be enough to take on Tikkun Olam (which is repairing the world). For instance, the Rabbi said that he didn't want to tell us what to think, just give us some points for consideration.  I remember hearing the message (whether these were the words or not) that certain things are dangerous roads to go down. And I feel like that is someone else ("Christianity", or my own head, or something) telling me what and how to think. I feel like so many roles are like a shepherd and his or her sheep, which is such a control-based relationship.  I've never felt that way from a Rabbi, which is probably a function of my very limited experiences with Rabbis, but I think they tend to provide points for consideration rather than rules or guidelines or... boundaries.

I realize that this sounds rather weird, particularly because Jews are the "people of the law" and they really do follow so many rules in a literal sense than Christians do, but I feel like those rules are suggestions for how to be a better you.  If you don't follow all of the kosher rules, I don't feel like there's a lot of judgment. Certainly this is not everyone's experience of Judaism, and mine is so limited it isn't fair to say, but that's just how I felt about it.

Finally, I don't mean to say that Jews are good and Christians are bad or that Jews are better or whatever, it's just the basis for comparison that I have. I always enjoyed being part of my old church and the people were so nice and welcoming. 

Hopefully more details to come later. Just had to say that I really enjoyed myself.

-L.

You Belong Here

So, here's the background: my gym membership is expiring pretty soon and I've been thinking about looking elsewhere. One place that I am very interested in is the Jewish Community Centre, even though I hadn't set foot in it since I was in daycare there (if that phrase even applies; I think I was brand new when I was in daycare there). I'm mostly drawn to it because I'm interested in getting in touch with the Jewish community (as you probably have read already) but I'm a little weary to just jump into a synagogue, mostly because I don't speak a word of Hebrew and always feel lost when I'm at a synagogue. Anyways, so yesterday I went to drop into the JCC to see what the fitness centre is like (it's gorgeous, by the way).

I've also been reading Dreams from My Father by now-President Barack Obama (who celebrated his 50th birthday yesterday!). I'm only about halfway through, but I can say for sure that it's stunningly honest and wise and inspirational. A definite must-read. I've also found it interesting thinking of a few things while I've been reading. The first is wondering if the Barack Obama who wrote the book (it was first published in 1995) would have imagined that he would become President of the United States thirteen years later. I also wonder how he negotiates who he was when he wrote the book with who he is now. The other thing that has been kind of central in my mind while reading it is wondering how many other Presidents or presidential candidates would feel comfortable baring so many of their experiences in the way that he has. For instance, the book talks about his high school and college experiments with drugs, sleeping in an alley in his first night in New York City and some comments that he was ashamed of. I guess I just don't see a lot of them baring all in that way (though that comment is made from a very uneducated perspective - they may have and I just don't know about it). I suppose I also really like it because it doesn't feel laced with rhetoric. To me, it's a really authentic telling of how he got to be where he was at that point in 1995.

I also like it because it is a chronicle of a search for a personal (ethnic) identity that is "mixed" (I use that word cautiously; I just don't know what else to say). Barack Obama is, as many are aware, the child of a white American mother and a black Kenyan father. I also recently read a great book called Black, White and Jewish by Rebecca Walker; who is the daughter of a black, famous feminist mother (Alice Walker) and a white, Jewish father (both American). I suppose that, as the product of a "mixed" marriage myself, I recognize these questions of "who am I?" and "where do I fit?" in these memoirs.

I do think that now it doesn't matter so much that I come from a mixed ethnic background. Damn near everyone else does anyways, but I suppose that for me it has been a somewhat poignant fact of my life. I also think that I'm drawn to the Jewish half of me because there are lots and lots of people in this world (and even in this country and this city) who would have preferred it if all of the Jews just didn't exist anymore (a synagogue in Toronto was vandalized last night or today unfortunately, much like Jewish sites in Calgary were about a year ago). Perhaps the thing that makes these questions of "mixed" identity important to those of us who ask them is that the "halves" are linked to oppressed minorities.

However, the interesting thing that I really wanted to mention is that when I was putting Barack Obama's amazing book away, I caught a glimpse of my receipt from my dropping in to the JCC. At the bottom of the receipt is their slogan: "You Belong Here". The logical part of me says that it's a coincidence, but I definitely felt like the universe or God or whatever was trying to tell me something. And at worst, it was still a nice, comforting coincidence.

TEDxCalgary Intro....

I realize this post is nearly a month late, but out of thought-sorting (as well as pure laziness and procrastination), I haven't been able to copy this out of the Word document I had this saved in. But in any case, here it is; and what better day to post this than on the birthday of a wonderful nation that allows us to be who we are and share ideas like those that were presented at TEDxCalgary. Happy birthday Canada! 

On Saturday, June 4, I was honoured to be able to attend TEDxCalgary.  It featured nine remarkable speakers in about four and a half hours and was, in my mind at least, a game changer.

When I listen to a speaker (or a professor, or whomever), I am a furious note-taker. I like to write down as much of what they say as I can, and often I end up with my own questions or thoughts sprinkled in in the margins as well. I've never really been able to collect all those thoughts or synthesize something new from what I heard and what I jotted down before, and I am going to attempt to do so here. I think the difference this time is that (while I have certainly heard amazing speakers before): I think that at this point, I know that I need to make this count; the speakers were so remarkable that I think real, true attention needs to be paid; and yesterday I kind of had what I'd call an artistic epiphany (I use the word "artistic" loosely as I wouldn't consider myself an artist).

Since I was a young teenager, I've written randomly in journals about random things. While some (or maybe most) of these journals are filled with mundane teenage details or friend drama or silly crushes, there are some entries that I felt I had to get something out (not out of frustration; I just felt that there was something that needed to be said) and so I would just write. And I think that there is something in some of these. Yesterday, during our lunch break, I had a moment that I just felt that I had to let something out. So I wrote. And I guess what I decided while I was writing was that I don't need someone to tell me to write; I can just do it on my own. And while I may not have any audience at all, maybe one day, one person will stumble across a collection of my thoughts and they may be able to expand upon it or use it or even just agree with or be inspired by it to continue what I would consider a synthesis or collaboration aspiring toward knowledge generation.
Maybe the best thing to introduce my "series" about TEDxCalgary is to copy out what I wrote over lunch break. Perhaps I can consider this my personal reasons for writing and follow some of the quasi-rules that I thought up. Maybe quasi-rules is the wrong way to say it; maybe it's about following my thoughts about removing some of the limits that I had placed on myself in the past and writing anyways. Anyways, decide for yourself what these guidelines should be called. Here it is, with some edits so that it might make a little more sense:

It came to me in that moment that the itch I feel to put pen to paper is a creative process. And maybe it doesn't need to sound good or make sense or inspire someone today; or tomorrow. (Or ever). But maybe one day it will inspire one person. So I should scratch that itch when it arises. It's likely that I may never produce anything that anyone else will read, but in some way, the ramblings I commit to endless patchwork notebooks is the way that I contribute to the grand "so what".

I would never call myself a "creative" person. Probably because I don't think I've really produced anything that I deem valuable but I don't think that's any reason to give up.

Last night, I decided that it would be my goal to be open to what today would bring. And I think that I have been, at least until now. Maybe instead of "I want to go to McGill", it should be "I want to create something of value" or "I want to inspire others" or "I want to pay [the knowledge and inspiration] forward". It is a real honour to have been chosen to be here out of nearly a million adult Calgarians. I want to make it count.

Maybe I don't need the approval of an educational institution to do the things I want to. Maybe I can pave my own way. Really, it would be a missed opportunity not to. I am fortunate enough to live in an age where I can "self-publish". And while I don't have any "readers", there's no reason to think that writing is fruitless. And there's no reason that I should keep all the thoughts that race through my head from others. While I don't necessarily think that those random thoughts are earth shattering or inspirational or meaningful to others, it's those observations and the gears that they inspire for me that give the world meaning to me and convince me everyday that this earth and this version of civilization is worth trying to save (or fix where necessary). And if sharing these thoughts can convince just 1 person of that, I would be humbled because that's all it takes. Just paying it forward once is enough for me to feel like I've made some impact. Then I think it would be worth it.

So there it is. That's what I scribbled down in my lunch break.