MY URBAN KVETCH

Black Friday Charity Challenge

If you happen to be in the queue for a store to open at midnight tonight so that you can partake in Black Friday specials, or if you're asleep right now because you're getting up at 4am to make sure you're up and at the mall by 5, don't look for me. I won't be there. But perhaps I could inspire you to think differently about consumption this holiday.

The last month has seen devastation on the East Coast due to Hurricane Sandy, and the resurgence of violence in the Middle East. There are people who need serious help to rebuild their lives. And there are people who need an iPad Mini. If you're one of the people in the latter category, enjoy the lines at the Apple store. I don't begrudge you your technology, or wanting to get the best price, even if you lose a few hours of sleep (or a toe in the stampede). But maybe this is a chance for us to think about how most of our shopping is for things we want, and not things we need.

Most of us are lucky - our shopping habits operate from a place of privilege, a sign that we have enough to survive, we have shelter and food, and can spend additional cash on ways to improve that life with additional decorative, style or entertainment options.

But there are ways that you can help people who really need their basic shelter and sustenance needs met, and ensure that people feel your concern and your care across the miles. Here are five ways - they're options for you to consider, in thinking about how you can help provide to people in need as you go about your shopping business.

Imitation is the Sincerest Form of...

While perusing some comedy clips on the internet, I came across the first clip below - it was labeled "SNL - Phobia Party," but clearly was not from Saturday Night Live, as it starred various folks who were never on SNL but who are recognizable from other places (Mary Lynn Rajskub, Kaitlin Olson, others). A little research reveals it was the short-lived Kelsey Grammer Sketch Show, which was only around in 2005.

But in watching it, I got a sense of specific deja vu - not only had I heard of this kind of sketch before, but the details were exactly the same as in another sketch I'd seen in Hebrew, by the sketch group Ktzarim (clip has English subtitles). In the Hebrew clip, the phobias folks were in therapy instead of at a party, but the fears themselves were all the same.

Which came first? Well, after some interwebs research, I discovered the answer: neither. The first version was a British version of the group therapy sketch from The UK Sketch Show (2001). It is a great concept and takes great timing to pull it off - even though they were all in different countries, I still can't believe that three different televised sketch shows used the same sketch. Has this ever happened before? (And will it keep happening again on the amateur level? Check out this clip from Grace Church.)

All three sketches are below (in what I believe is the correct chronological order) - which sketch group did it best?

The UK Sketch Show

 

The Israeli Version - "Ktzarim"

 

The Kelsey Grammer Sketch Show

Approaching “Innovation”, Part Two: A Simchat Torah Meditation

 

Screenshots from PocketTorah, a mobile Torah app

Those of us who follow traditional Jewish liturgy may be familiar with the term “hadesh yameinu k’kedem” – "renew our days as they were before." This phrase pops up in various places, but most notably to synagogue-goers, at the end of the Etz Hayyim (Tree of Life) prayer as the Torah is placed back in the Ark, and on Tish’ah B’av, a fast day commemorating (among other tragic days in Jewish history) the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. While purists might read this as a yearning literally for the restoration of Temple times, since such times seem to come replete with High Priests, sacrifices and a segregated area for women that restricts access to the holy areas of the Temple Mount, I think of it differently.

 

For me, the yearning to “renew our days as they were before” is something that’s quintessentially human and remarkably resonant to the conversation on innovation. (If we insist on calling it that.) While the phrase does appear in a context of a near-obliterated Jerusalem, we only read it in that context once a year; the rest of the time we use it as we seal the Torah back into the Ark after we’ve read that day’s Torah portion. In this context, it is a reminder that although we have read these words before, we re-read them, knowing that, because we change with every reading, our understanding of the words themselves may have also altered, in a way that provides new relevance to and wisdom for our contemporary lives.

When we pray for the renewal of our days “as before,” what we’re praying for is the renewal of our energy, because it takes energy, creativity, and an open mind to re-read something we’re familiar with and see it differently. It takes a receptive heart to be invigorated by an ancient text’s relevance, to look at it differently, and become impassioned about incorporating its lessons into our daily lives. 

Torah itself may not be innovation (whatever that means) - literally, as something so ancient, it's probably closer to being the opposite. But what the plea to "renew our days as days of old" presents is the equating of that wizened age with inspired thinking, expressing perhaps a yearning for the enthusiasm we once had before our lives got in the way, the kind of inquisitive interest and fresh perspectives that we had when we were children, or students, or before we were encumbered by life’s responsibilities.

By opening our minds and hearts to innovative readings - of a contemporary situation, a passion project, an ancient text or an encounter with a creative thinker - we have the ability to further amplify the impact of our tradition and generate the necessary energy to recommit to pushing through challenges. By embracing perspectives outside our own, we renew our openness to perceiving and absorbing new meaning every day.

Wishing you a joyous Simchat Torah...

Approaching “Innovation”: Verbicidal Tendencies

 

Infographic on Innovation Burnout from Wall Street Journal (via creativityland.ca)

If you know me, you know that I am not a violent person. But then, the other day, a murderous thought came to mind. Not quite voices in my head, more like a clarion call, a seasonally appropriate shofar from within the realm of my professional work.  “Kill. Kill the word. Innovation. It needs to die.”

Troubling, to me personally, a heavy user of words, to advocate for the death of a word; not to mention the fact that I work part-time adjacent to the Partnerships & Innovation department at the Jewish Federation of Greater Los Angeles, and as a consultant for the ROI Community of Jewish Innovators. Most of my professional work involves being in and around what I once explained to someone was “the emerging Jewish innovation sector.” (The person’s response: “Huh?”) My attempt to name projects in this sphere as explanation – G-dcast, Birthright Israel, PresenTense, ROI, Jewcology, Hazon, Sharsheret – didn’t seem to help. I must have sounded like Hagrid, describing mystical creatures at Hogwarts.

A few years back at LimmudLA, I presented on the state of Jewish innovation, citing
G-dcast, the Mission Minyan, Kehilat Hadar, Moishe House and Challah for Hunger as examples. A voice of dissent in the room claimed that these projects were not innovations. G-dcast is “just” the weekly Torah portion; independent prayer communities are “just” the reinvention of havurot; Moishe House is “just” group living, like a kibbutz and a fraternity combined; Challah for Hunger is “just” a bake sale. My argument back was that the sum of the product itself might not be innovative, but the lens, venue or methodology used to produce it is creative, in some way “alternative” to the mainstream culture of Jewish life, or directly reflective of contemporary needs and concerns, and that it was that kind of work that was emerging under the term “innovation.”

Courage and Cowardice: A High Holidays Meditation Inspired by IKAR

Each year, IKAR asks its members to reflect on the year gone by, and submit personal stories on a particular theme - these essays and paragraphs are then published in a book that's distributed at IKAR during the High Holidays. The texts in this booklet provide an additional layer for those who are meditating on renewal, repentance and change and who may not always feel connected to the traditional liturgy or even to its modern tunes. Last year's theme was epiphany (and you can read last year's contribution here). This year, the theme was courage and cowardice (you can read more about this exercise here). My submission is below. Wishing you all a reflective, inspiring, healthy and peaceful new year.

Years ago, on a Friday night on the Upper West Side, I was on my way home from Shabbat dinner when I saw a woman walking on the sidewalk. All of a sudden, she pitched forward into the street. I sprang forward into the street which, thankfully, was free of motor traffic; helped her out of the street and back over to the sidewalk. I asked if she was okay and she muttered something about having forgotten her medication in a cab. I stayed with her another minute or so, asked her again if she needed anything and then headed on my way. My heart was beating very fast. I had done the right thing, without thinking about it. But I also heard other voices in my head – the voices that distrust late-night New York life, the ones that speak on behalf of my self-preservation and warn about sketchy behavior and potential danger.

Last month, I was driving in a not-so-great part of Los Angeles, but it was daytime. A pale, scraggly, lanky man crossed the street with a case of beer, then staggered and fell on the sidewalk, thrusting the beer ahead of him as he fell. Then he started crawling toward the beer, as if he was too unstable to stand, or as if his legs had ceased to function. I was stopped at a light - I watched with concern, but stayed in the car. I was late, there was traffic all around me, I felt pressure to ignore him, assume he’d get help from somewhere else. As I advanced through the light, I glanced back, and saw someone was helping him. A case could be made that my role was to keep an eye on him until someone else arrived who could help. But I still felt guilty for watching him as he suffered, and waiting for someone else to help him. It was not my finest moment.

So Long, 5772, and Thanks for All the Pomegranate Images

When I was young, I couldn't wait for the mail to arrive. If I was home, around 11am, I'd start to wonder, and to listen for the thud that I knew would come sometime in the next hour or so. Would I get a letter? A magazine? And from whom? An invitation to a birthday party? A letter from my Camp Ramah buddies? What would it be?

Now that we are in the era of electronic mail, I never have to worry about whether or not I will get mail. I will ALWAYS get mail. Perhaps less on Saturdays because of Shabbat, and certainly reduced volume for the Jewish holidays, but the email always comes. There's no thud to look forward to, no thick envelopes, or thin ones, or magazines - they all arrive in the same package. And the postman doesn't even have to ring, not even once.

Never is the constant flow of electronic mail more assured then preceding Jewish holidays. Chanukah is its own problem and may get its own post toward the end of the calendar year. But from about mid-August and for the next month, I get almost-hourly reminders that the holidays are coming and that there are no end to the number of holiday-related products I could buy or opportunities I could become involved with or organizations which are taking this opportunity to remind me that they're there and relying on my support for 5773. And I do support them. Some with dollars or shekels, others with social media support, and others by not unsubscribing from their constant email solicitations because - even though they're annoying - I know they do good work, and if they ever become not annoying with their solicitations, I would want to know about it. So I stay subscribed, only in the most extreme of cases putting my foot down, because I believe that some day, they'll change.

But that doesn't stop the frustration every holiday season as the emails start. And don't seem to stop. And I can't spend my time responding to each one, although I'd like to. So, I thought I'd write them an open letter.

IKAR's Sexy Shofar Man Wakes Up L.A.

Courtesy of IKAR, a progressive egalitarian spiritual community in Los Angeles come the stirring sounds of a man, his shofar, and his red hoodie. Who is this elusive shofar-blowing man? What is he doing in the streets of L.A.? IKAR explains:

[T]he upcoming High Holy Days are nothing short of a call to transform our lives, our city and our world.  So we sent our Sexy Shofar Man to hit the streets with his sweet shofar blowing to beckon the people of Los Angeles to wake up and think about what’s possible in 5773. 

We call them the High Holy Days, but Yamim Noraim can best be translated as "Days of Awe." These are days in which we step out of our daily routines and wake up to the mysterious gift of life itself. The message of the High Holy Days: everything is possible.  Things don't have to be as they are.  We don't have to be the people we have become.  We can repair, redirect, reframe the contours of our relationships and our lives. Reflect deeply, dream boldly, and discover a renewed sense of wonder and purpose.

“Street Shofar” is directed by Isaac Feder and features Michael Brous (AKA, brother of IKAR Rabbi Sharon Brous) as Sexy Shofar Man. Still tracking down the person in charge of wardrobe, who gave SSM his soon-to-be-signature look.

To find out more about IKAR - and to join me and other creative and eclectic individuals there for the holidays - visit: www.ikar-la.org.

 

.

"Covert Affairs" Goes to Israel

Those of us who have been watching the USA Network show "Covert Affairs," also sometimes known as "poor man's Alias, but with Piper Perabo playing gorgeous spy Annie Walker and with a hot blind guy working tech," have been delighted by the occasional appearance of Israeli actor Oded Fehr actually playing an Israeli. The delight has continued as Fehr, playing Mossad agent Eyal Lavin, often breaks out into Hebrew when he's impatient, a detail that is doubly delightful because a) the Hebrew is actually correct and well-pronounced (Fehr, after all, is legit Israeli), and b) the impatience with Americans that causes Lavin to mutter almost to himself in his native tongue is authentic and well-known to many of us who have visited Israel over the years.

There have been three appearances by Eyal Lavin so far over the course of the three seasons - the most recent one a few weeks ago, in "This is Not America" (see trailer embedded below), and it was one of the most Israel-centric television episodes I've seen. From the opening sequence, featuring music by Matisyahu, to the use of Hebrew, both with and without subtitles, and even extending to some cultural truths ("when I get voicemail, I hang up" and "everyone's been touched by terror - it's the reality of life in Israel") there's more Israel education in this one episode of this spy show than there is at most Jewish events. (More commentary after the jump.)

 

Getting Engaged: Part Two - Courting Engagement

(It's always gratifying when a blog post here starts a conversation somewhere else. To check out how the subject of engagement might look through an education lens, check out Dan Mendelsohn Aviv's post at his blog, The Next Jew. And now, part two.)

While Jewish engagement professionals struggle with questions and answers that may not satisfy funders or program providers, it may help - because it at least helps me - to focus on building and deepening personal relationships, which should be the foundation of any expected engagement.

1. Attendance is not engagement. Having 200 people at your event doesn't mean you've engaged 200 people any more than going on speed dates with 200 people means you're in a relationship. (In some cases, speed dating might get you closer.) Like Facebook relationship statuses, connection to community often gets an "It's Complicated." A packed house creates great energy, but can dilute content, and may overwhelm in a way that prevents relationships from forming, either among individual particpants or with the convening organization(s). So if you're a Jewish professional who's staffing this incredibly successful party, get out there and talk to people you don't know. Find out what they're passionate about, introduce them to other people, especially if you discover a point of connection. Then empower them to work with you in achieving something neither of you could do separately. Create the connection, forge a relationship, then leverage it to greatness.

2. "Engagement" or "young leadership" may not be everyone’s goal. While some young adults state an ambition toward leadership or a desire to become deeply involved, most people may be satisfied with more of a browsing relationship with Jewish initiatives and institutions - read a book, see a movie, attend a party as wingman for your friend. The default mode is: don't get tied down, try lots of things. It's casual dating. Some may already identify as connected, even if you can't count them among your donors or co-chairs. If you call them "unaffiliated," you may just learn what "disaffiliated" means. Some NextGen folk may be searching and some may be happily single (communally, or within this overarching relationship metaphor). So listen to the people who come through your doors, and make sure there is room in your Jewish organization for everyone, regardless of their marital and/or procreative status.

3. Age is relative. The 20s and 30s seem to be today’s magic target population, but they’re not the only ones in the Jewish community who may be seeking engagement with community. There are people of other “Gens” around who deserve props for their past and contributions to Jewish communal life. What of the teens who see bar and bat mitzvah as a natural opt-out point but who are the true "NextGen"? What of the poor generationless 40somethings, increasingly closed out of both "young professionals" and "Jewish innovation" programs? How can today’s leadership make room for young(er) professionals without phasing themselves out? The demographics of our collective and particular communities challenge us to think about engagement (and innovation) as a goal that’s independent of age. The question isn’t necessarily “how can we expect 20s and 30s to feel that engagement is important?” but may in fact be “how can we create the space for programs that meet the needs of community members and which make Jewish life meaningful?” So focus on the relationship between the two parties and focus on creating authentic and meaningful experiences. Don’t get hung up on age – it ain’t nothin’ but a number. (For more on the age thing in regard to innovation and leadership, see this piece at eJewishPhilanthropy.)

Getting Engaged: Part One

The magic of engagement is not to be believed until it's experienced - feeling, in a moment of certainty, that this is where you belong, committing, for the foreseeable future to walk a path together, to enter into covenant, partnership, something binding that you vow to work at, to invest in, to cherish and develop actively every day. Gazing at your beloved, you just know. Engagement is the first step into a future that, although unknown, contains the tantalizing promise of more time together with the companions you've chosen, creating connections to people who inspire and energize you, who amplify your creativity, your intelligence and your impact, who partner with you to create a community that serves you as much as you serve the community.

Many of us in the Jewish world - single and married, younger and older - are tasked with creating “Jewish engagement” opportunities every day. Some of us even have the actual word in our professional titles; for others, it's implied. But the one thing everyone agrees on is that no one knows what “engagement” really means.

Some of you may know that I used to write extensively about relationships. (And here’s where I apologize for the misdirect that may have made you think that this piece was going to be an update about my social life.) But the fact that the community has so deeply embraced the term "engagement," particularly those who work with the so-called "NextGen,” has made me think that there may be something deeply resonant about the choice of this word to describe Jewish connection.