The last night of winter vacation

It’s the last night of winter vacation,
tomorrow we must return to school.
Remember the kids whose vacations were filled with nothingness or worse yet trauma.
Remember your colleagues whose personal lives are filled with drama.
Remember the kids whose parents decided Christmas was the best time to announce their impending divorce.
Remember your colleagues drowning in ungraded papers and unplanned lessons frozen with the fear of never being enough.
Reach out to the kids whose lunches weren’t packed.
Bring extra for the colleague whose credit card is maxed.
Give solace to the one rejected from college and to the one who got in but can’t afford to go.
Support the colleague asked not to come back next year who must put on a brave face until June.
Give the cheater, the liar, the faker a second chance.
Don’t demand the colleague who's struggling emotionally to chaperone the dance.

It's going to be really hard for them to put away their phones. If what you are teaching is worth learning, then lovingly make them. 

It's going to be really hard for them to put away their phones. But their lives aren't what they portray on social media. Adult life is messy. Ask how they really are.  

Only if we care for one another can our school be centers of growth and learning.
Tomorrow for whom will you care and who will care for you?

If Not Peter Beinart

In Peter Beinart's hyperbolic piece Birthright Will Fail..., he makes the claim that unless the Israel trips include the Palestinian perspective, liberal Jews will stop going.

While the criticism that Birthright should include the Palestinian narrative is a fair one, the conclusions he draws are ill informed or wrong.

He claims the coming demise of Birthright can be seen with the 22 participants who walked off or were kicked off the trip since last summer. This number really isn't that significant. We are literally talking less than 1/2 a percent. I wouldn't call that a movement but a blip.

This isn't Birthright's problem to solve. 

Also, the participants walking off the trip aren't protesting Birthright; they are protesting "the occupation." They do not care about how fair the program is. I would guess that they would still protest even if Birthright spent half their time in the West Bank -- if there was still an occupation. If Not Now and the British group he mentions have political agendas, right or wrong. Hijacking a Birthright trip is their best way to get publicity. They know that the walk offs will be dramatic, selfied, and covered by the Jewish and some of the Israeli press. Their gripes have nothing to do with Birthright itself, nor can Birthright solve the Palestinian-Israeli conflict.

As for his suggestion that all trips meet with young Palestinians, that may prove to be difficult. While it would definitely possible to meet with Israeli Arabs (who identify as Palestinian) many young Palestinians from the West Bank would be shunned or worse for speaking to a group of Jews. I attended one of the programs that he mentioned in his article. We couldn't publicize the names of at least two of our young Palestinian speakers because it would put their lives in jeopardy.

If Birthright is not colluding with the Israeli government to subjugate Palestinians, then why isn't the conflict addressed properly on the trips?  Beinart mentions the funders. He's not totally wrong. Many funders don't love when a speaker disparages Israel. However, the biggest issue is that the guides are not equipped to facilitate this complicated conversation. They are tour guides. Some of them are great educators. However, many are also nationalistic (that's why they became guides of Israel) and not that familiar with the Palestinian narrative themselves (It's not taught here just like the Jewish narrative is not taught there.) They aren't trained to talk about the conflict in a meaningful manner or to deal with hot button issues. I will use his America approach. Imagine going on a trip to America and a liberal guide being asked to talk about the positive attributes of the NRA and why the Pro Life movement has a point. How many self-defined liberal could actually do that?

Logistically, it is also problematic. It can be very difficult, if not impossible, to get permission to go into Area A of the Palestinian Authority for an Israeli. Even if a person has never lived in Israel, but is an Israeli citizen, he/she can be refused entry to Area A.  Many Birthright participants are Israeli even though they have never lived in Israel.

So, sorry Peter Beinart, Birthright isn't and shouldn't be the address for learning about this complicated issue. There are other addresses, and participants should be encouraged to seek them out. If a the funders of Birthright decided to prioritize this, it would require a lot of funding, training, and 10 more days.

Stop texting your teens during the school day

I've said it before and I'll say it again. If you are a parent of an adolescent, please listen to me. Stop texting your kids during school hours. There is no good excuse from detracting from your child's education because of what may be your good intentions or convenience. Example: I was working with an 11th grader on the student's research paper. Every three seconds, the student's mom was writing her on a text messaging service that has an app he/she can use on her Mac. (I ask them to turn of their phones during class.)

"Hi honey."

"How are you?"

"Are you having a good day?"

"How did your test go?"

"Hello?"

"Are you there?"

"Why aren't you answering? Is everything okay."

Do you think the kid could focus on the research paper? I couldn't even focus on the research paper because I was reading the texts. Also, because my interaction with her took longer as she was unfocused, and so was I, I couldn't help as many students as I wanted to.

Your kids are okay. And if they are not, your text messages aren't going to help them. You are negatively impacting their education and denying them their God given right to become independent, secure adults.

If you are compulsive, and I am as well, so I get it, download an app where you can schedule your texts to arrive to your kids' messenger service a minute before school ends. That way you won't forget what you need to tell them, and you won't be bothering them all day.

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The OP-ED is worse than you imagined

The anonymous opinion piece in the New York Times is not just a distraction to the Kavanaugh hearing, it is something much worse. Next month Russia is set to engage in its biggest war games since 1981. They have added significantly to their naval presence in the Mediterranean. Their show of military might is when all three branches of our government are in some sort of crisis. Also, don't forget Trump's NATO antics which effectively morally weakened the alliance. At this point, if you are a foreign power, who looks more powerful to you: The United States or Russia? With whom will you ally? With whom will you offer intelligence? 

I'm not saying they knew someone would publish an op-ed, but they knew that the administration would be in disarray further allowing them to make their power grab in the world. Is this revenge for Bill Clinton going back on his word to Boris Yeltsin that NATO wouldn't expand? Russia is showing who is in charge in the world by bringing back the former "glory" of the Soviet Union while our government falters. If you were to tell me I'd ever write something like this, I would say "No way. I am not a conspiracy theorist."

I really think these collapsing dominoes are in line with Putin's master plan, and it's unfolding perfectly for the Kremlin. The question now is where, when, and how will it all end?

What do you do on the Day of Atonement when you can't forgive?

I always tell people that I've never been less religious in my life since living in Israel. My religious friends cringe when they hear that statement, but it is absolutely true. There are many reasons and excused for this lack of religiosity, and to be honest, none of them are adequate. If Judaism was our priority, we would be attending synagogue, even if the synagogue that we find appealing is not close to our home. We do light candles on shabbat, say kiddush (holy wine), and eat challah bread. However, besides having a mezuzah on our door, lighting Chanukah candles and building a sukkah (here a Sukkah is common as Christmas trees in the states), Judaism does not permeate our lives as it did in Chicago.

However, my dear friend and Rabbi extraordinairre, Elliot Cosgrove shared a post on Facebook that motivated me to take a step back and reflect. See, the month before the Jewish high holidays of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, you are supposed to prepare your soul for the work that needs to be done during the Days of Awe culminating in Yom Kippur (which my daughter and secular Israeli kids call bicycle day because there are no cars on the streets and you can ride your bicycle everywhere). Here's part of what he wrote on the Park Avenue Synagogue Facebook page:

Perhaps the power and promise of this month of Elul and the coming High Holy Days is not so much in seeking awe-inducing revolutions but in identifying the small yet significant course corrections needed in our lives: making the phone calls we should be making more often, resuming the good habits that we have let lapse, restoring the relationships that have atrophied. We all have a “best self” who has become unfamiliar to us in the year gone by. These holy days call on us to identify that person whom we seek to be but are not, and then close the gap. And we don’t have to wait for the year ahead to begin. The month of Elul offers us the chance to get a head start.

So, I've taken this wisdom to heart, and have identified some small areas in my life in which I can improve. However, one can't think of the High Holidays and not consider from whom, besides The Inscriber, you must ask for forgiveness. I am pretty good at that part, but the part of the holiday that I really, really struggle with is forgiving others as instructed by this prayer:



I have had some really terrible thoughts about people who have wronged me. I have that at least the popular notion of "Karma is a bitch" was real. Even my husband, who is pretty relaxed about interpersonal issues said about an unscrupulous person, "One day that person will get theirs." But it's pretty clear that the Rabbis wanted us to drop it, or as Rabbi Elsa said, "Let it go."

Non-religious writings, specifically in psychology, spout the benefits of forgiveness. There are 2759 quotes on Goodreads about forgiveness. So, this is very much a secular value as well.

Then or so why is it so hard?

For the few people who have wronged me, there is a subset of them with whom I just am angry at the action, not the person. Those people are easier to forgive (but not forget). However, there are a few people who I cannot (yet?) forgive.

Nelson Mandela, may he rest in peace, would advise me otherwise, “Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies.”

And of course, he had exponentially and infinitely more reason to resent those who wronged him than I do, yet still it's advice that's unheeded. So, what I've decided this year is to change course. Instead of feeling like a failure for being unable to forgive those few people on my list, I've decided to forgive myself for being unable (right now) to do so. It's not like these grudges affect me on a daily basis. It's not hindering my professional or personal success. Sure, would I prefer to be forgiving? Of course. Do I recognize that the anger must serve a purpose of some sort? Yes. But I can't forgive these few people, and I'm more consumed with self-loathing for not being able to "let it go" than the grudge against the people who have wronged me. I can understand why this might seem narcissistic, but this admission, this confession, will help me work on what is possible for me at this point in my life, and perhaps next year I can do better.

Fitbit or bust? An introduction to my complicated relationship with food and exercise.

Today I wore my new Fitbit. It’s a watch that reveals my deepest secrets. I have owned several Fitbits. They have either gotten lost or I have gotten frustrated with charging them or angry at myself for not reaching my goals. I’ve even gotten angry at myself when I’ve reached my goals, but they weren’t recorded by my Fitbit because it wasn’t charged or I forgot to wear it. If your Fitbit didn’t count the steps, they weren’t walked. Right?

So with my new Fitbit, I walked to the beach. Given that it’s summer and that I’m jet lagged, and my kids are jetlagged, I spend a lot of time sitting. So, I made myself get off the couch and walk to the beach. It would be the only way for me to reach my 10,000 steps today, never mind that we own a treadmill that I’ve used twice in the year that we’ve had it. I would allegedly use it more if my husband installed the shelf he promised to install so that I could watch t.v. on the ipad. Why should I try to install it myself or call the elderly handyman to do it? If I did that, then I’d have to walk on the treadmill or feel worse about the fact that I don’t.

See? I'm athletic.

It's not that I'm not athletic. I have some athletic ability. I have good hand-eye coordination. I can play sports. I just have issues with physical fitness and have, sadly, for more than 30 years. (Or perhaps sadder is all of the energy I spent lamenting, and obsessing over my size eight jeans when now I wear a 10 or 12. Or to cropping pictures that I felt made me look fat when now I have an actual pouch.)

There is little that I feel more defeatist and more negative about than exercise and my weight. I’ve felt this way since I was 9 or 10, when I realized I was overweight. I’ve never wanted to exercise more and eat less, even, or perhaps especially, when I’ve committed to do so.

I could lie to you and say that I don’t have time to exercise or that I barely eat. But it’s not true. You may look at me empathetically and say, “Well, you do work full time, and you do have two small children.” But the thing is, I do have time, I just choose not to exercise. There are moms who work more hours with more children who exercise.  I also know how not to exceed my calorie intake-exercise ratio, but I really just want to eat what I want to eat.

So, one might argue that I should embrace my slovenliness. There are body acceptance movements that I’ve thought of being apart of. They don’t discourage exercise, but they do forbid body shaming. I don’t know if I can get on board with being proud of my body. Deprogramming years of contrary messages would take more work than, well, exercising and being part of a Facebook group.

Now usually comes the time when several friends will recommend yoga. You should do yoga (which is code for “you need a therapist.”) I have tried doing yoga probably 100 times. And each time I’ve hated it. First of all, I never feel like I’ve worked out. I trust all of the beautiful celebrities that it’s a workout, but it’s never felt like one to me. I also hated being adjusted by the instructor and because I’m uncoordinated and not flexible, I constantly needed adjusting. Sure, most instructors would ask, “Can I adjust you?” But saying no seemed really aggressive, even though in my head I thought “Noooooooooo!!!!!!” The last time I did yoga, at my gym in Chicago, during shivasana (so annoying the cultural appropriation), I made a promise to myself: I will never do yoga again. I have been very committed to that practice.

I’ve also been committed to working out with a trainer once a week. I’ve been working out with a trainer for about 15 years. Here’s the thing with working out with a trainer. After the first five years, you really shouldn’t need a trainer unless your problem is motivation, which mine is. I started working out with a trainer after an exbf encouraged me to run. He was a marathon runner and being fit was super important to him. I jogged with him for one minute and I immediately ran out of breath. He said something I will never forget, “It’s disgusting that you can’t run a few hundred feet without getting winded.” This guy wasn’t particularly emotionally abusive at this point in our relationship, but that line certainly was. Later he apologized by saying that he was used to dating physically fit women, but I had other good qualities. Thanks?

Running has never been my thing. I played soccer, goalie, and until I got to high school my slow pace never mattered. However, in high school, that wasn’t the case. For three years, every day at the end of summer and during the fall, the entire team would run in two lines. The person in the back would have to sprint to the front. This went on during the entire run (at least that’s how I recall it). I could last a couple of laps, and then I had to go at my own pace. Then, after the team had completed all of their laps, the captains would have to come out and bring the stragglers home (read: run more). I was always a straggler and perhaps there were one or two others. However, I was the consistent weak link.

The first three years, I didn’t mind the humiliation of being escorted by the captains. The captains were not my close friends. And honestly, I did try my best. I did train during the year. However, my senior year two of my close friends were captains. The third captainwasn’t a close friend, but still a peer I respected who could outrun anybody with two huge knee braces on her legs.  During that first practice, they had to bring me home w after doing many, many of those sprint-laps in the midwest summer heat. As we ran in, and the rest of the team looked on and clapped for the senior straggler, I thought about how many times my friends would have to “bring me home” that season. The next day I came to practice and told the coach that I quit. It wasn’t easy. Despite what I’ve written, I’m not a quitter. However, I couldn’t take the guilt and humiliation of those laps day after day.

After quitting soccer, I barely ever ran. I tried 5ks, but I was so slow, I didn’t see the point of paying 30 bucks for my lack of fitness recorded in a database. Also, the snacks at the finish line usually erased any calories I burned at the 5k. Also, every time I would run as an adult, I would get injured.  I did ride in Little 500 my freshman year of college. I also rode in the MS 150 when I was 30. There have been times when I could commit to fitness. But these have been short lived.

MS 150. Could have used a road bike. 

So after the disgusting comment, I hired a trainer. Training has been really wonderful for me, but very costly. However, I keep spending the money because otherwise I wouldn’t work out even once a week. In addition, it has increased my strength, although still not my cardiovascular health. I do credit training to making my deliveries and postnatal recoveries easier. (If you need a trainer in Chicago, LA, or Israel, I can recommend some great ones).

Buzz buzz. Oh, thank God. I hit my 10,000 steps. Will I hit them tomorrow? Or the next day? Or next week? I hope so. Otherwise my husband has already called dibs on the Fitbit so he can use it while he’s running on the treadmill.

My First Relationship

We just had another fight, and now I’m sitting here thinking, reflecting as they say, on what I have done. We’ve been fighting a lot, and I’ve been reflecting a lot thinking about how we got here; how I got here. It’s true, much of this is my fault. Today’s fight began when I woke up this morning and she came into my room. Yes, we are sleeping in separate bedrooms now, which makes me so angry, frustrated, and sad. She came in to say good morning, and I threw something at her. Then when I got out of bed, she tried to kiss me, and I hit her, twice. I know it’s wrong to hit a woman, to hit anyone for that matter. So now, I sit and reflect.

It was love at first sight, as trite as that sounds. For the first few months, we were inseparable, as is typical in new relationships. We took soooo many selfies together. The one on Valentine’s Day got over a hundred likes on Instagram. We would sit for hours watching reality t.v., listening to music, or reading. A lot of times, we’d be up in the middle of the night, just her and me. To be honest, I wasn’t easy. I was emotional. I wasn’t good at communicating what I wanted or needed. But she always seemed to know how to make me smile. It was after those first few blissful months, fourteen weeks to be exact, that our problems initially began. I started seeing another woman. She didn’t seem to mind, and at that point, I was still in her bed.

Recently, though, something has changed. Like a few weeks ago, she went to Prague for “work.” It’s not like I don’t know other people or am totally alone. But, how could she leave me? Did she not want to stroll with me on the Charles Bridge? Man, I was a beast to be around that weekend. When she came home, at first I was so happy to see her, but then I remembered how she left me and maintained my distance. I could see it upset her, but how could I trust her now? Truth be told, the Prague trip isn’t why I am so full of rage. The catalyst for my anger was when she kicked me out of her room into the other bedroom a few months ago. I threw a fit, but she insisted that it was time. I was so angry.

God, I love this woman.

However, I can see the toll our relationship has taken on her. Since we first started seeing each other she had grown older, more tired. When we first met, she wore contacts. Now, she only wears loose fitting glasses, and her skin is branded with sun spots. Our relationship has also been costly. I can’t remember the last time she bought a new dress or did something for herself. Still, what right does she have to kick me out of her room for me to sleep all alone with nothing for comfort except linens?

So, this morning, I lost it and hit her. It wasn’t the first time. She grabbed me by the arm and put me in this so called “thinking chair,” or naughty chair, or “in time out” to reflect on what I had done. After two long minutes, one minute per year I’ve been alive, she sat down next to me. She told me that she would always love me, but that I shouldn’t hit mommy, and I shouldn’t hit anyone.

I want to say that I am sorry. I want to tell her that I love her. I want to tell her that yes, I am two and a half, and it is absolutely the right thing to do to have me sleep in my own bed in my own room. But I can only weep as she holds me, and when I finally find the words, all that comes out is - I want Mickey Mouse.