JCC Movement Centennial

100 Years of Jewish Life in North America

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Marking the JCC Movement Centennial: One JCC’s Approach

 

By Ashley Stokar

Photo after photo showed smiling faces, old and young, starting in the 1920s and following an unbroken timeline continuing through the present day. With a photo archive spanning more than 85 years, the Mayerson JCC of Cincinnati celebrated the JCC Movement at 100 by honoring the people who have been part of our community throughout the decades.

We started to explore an overwhelming treasure of memories where we found dozens of hidden gems. The active brotherhood of our men’s softball league was captured in a painting of a JCC softball game, commissioned to honor of a beloved past player. We were able to loan the painting to the HUC-JIR Skirball Museum to be displayed during an exhibition celebrating the importance of baseball to American Jews and immigrants, finding their place in the country. We were thrilled to be able to celebrate our history in the city by sharing such a beloved pastime with the wider community.

Then came the deep dive into the photo archives that had been lovingly kept, for generation after generation and from building to building. A lively history of Days of Fun, musicals, day camp, swim lessons, dance classes, and community came to life with each successive photo – nearly 5,000 in all. Each picture told a story and began to form a piece of the puzzle that revealed the story of a community that has grown and changed over the years while remaining strong and faithful from generation to generation.

The exploration continued throughout the summer and culminated during our annual meeting, where we displayed enlarged individual pictures and a large vinyl poster showcasing nearly 250 individually numbered pictures. Below the vinyl, we supplied three custom photo books for community members to write down the names and stories associated with these snapshots in time. Today, those pages are filled with ink; our members continue to share their stories, connecting the living memory to those who have passed, and inspiring a connection to the future. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but in our case, they are also worth 100 years.

Ashley Stokar is director of marketing for the Mayerson JCC of Cincinnati.

 

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Surviving breast cancer with the help of the J

By Marcy Kay

Pink Ribbon power at the Peninsula JCC—Marcy Kay at center

No one wants to learn they have breast cancer—especially not a second time. Six months after I had been diagnosed with cancer following a routine mammogram, I faced a second diagnosis. Through a monthly self-exam, I found a lump in my other breast.

After my first diagnosis, I had a lumpectomy and radiation. I was fully active and didn’t share the news with many people. But the second time was different. My mother had died of ovarian cancer, and although neither she nor I had tested positive for BRCA 1 or 2, I chose to have a double mastectomy and oophorectomy (surgery to remove ovaries). And this was before a certain starlet made it big news!

In many ways, I was very lucky. I had a built-in breast cancer survivor community. When I moved to San Francisco, I was involved in the Young Adult Division of the JCF, Jewish Community Federation. After my mother died, I joined a group of JCF friends for the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, as there was no comparable ovarian cancer walk. I have completed five of these two-day, 39-and-a-half mile walks to raise money for education, free screening and research. When my husband and I enrolled our child at the Peninsula JCC’s early childhood program, we became close to many Jewish families and created a great community. Unfortunately, many of these moms have been affected by breast cancer.

Marcy speaking at a PJCC event in support of the Pink Ribbon Program.

The other thing I was lucky to have was the Pink Ribbon Program at the PJCC. I remember seeing the signs posted around the PJCC about the program and thinking, “I never thought I’d need this.” I took a picture of the sign, showed it my husband and called Vicki McGrath, who runs the program. She was so calm and comforting. It was exactly what I needed at that moment. She encouraged me to see her when I was ready. The program gave me something to focus on, and six weeks after my surgery, my journey to recovery through the PJCC’s Jewish Wellness and Pink Ribbon program had begun.

At first, my work with Vicki was just talking about my goals, as I had limited mobility. I couldn’t open containers or pull a shirt over my head. Through our work together, I was able to build back my physical and emotional strength.

The Pilates-based program worked on my range of motion, body strength, fatigue levels, and overall body compensation. Vicki and her team work with each person individually, as no one’s recovery is exactly the same.

The PJCC has been a big part of our lives from the moment our child began at the preschool, and has continued with swimming lessons, day camps, and the Jewish day school, which is connected to the PJCC. We all use the fitness center almost every day. I am really proud the PJCC embraces wellness in the way that it does. Having wellness offerings like the Pink Ribbon Program, and making sure they are financially supported, fills a critical service for those needing this type of program.

The Pink Ribbon program at the PJCC was life-changing for me. I am fortunate for many reasons and for that, I am forever grateful.

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From 9/11 to Iraq—and back

Hal Brewster, on left, in Mahmudiyah, Iraq.

Hal Brewster had spent the summer of 2001 between his junior and senior years of high school at Buckeye Boys State. This in-depth, selective educational program allows high school students a hands-on week in civic engagement, aimed at teaching the rights and responsibilities of being an American. Run by the American Legion—the nation’s largest veterans’ service organization—it had a strong undercurrent of service, which appealed to Brewster, whose father and brother had served in uniform.  But even after leaving Boys State, he was not considering a stint in the military for himself.

DECIDING TO JOIN

When school began that fall, Brewster began filling out his college applications but not looking into ROTC scholarships in any serious way. But then America was attacked in an unthinkable way.

“It certainly changed me,” Brewster says of terrorist attacks on Sept. 11, 2001, in which 2,996 were killed and thousands more injured. “Like so many, I have very clear and vivid memories of the planes and the looks of shock on the faces of everyone in the school, myself included.” And although he was safe in Boardman, Ohio, just south of Youngstown, and not in harm’s way, something clicked. “After the attacks, I knew I was going to enroll in an ROTC program at the college I ended up choosing.”

A STUDENT IN UNIFORM

Brewster, left, with his platoon sergeant, then Sgt. 1st Class Chris Kohunsky, now a command sergeant major.

The following fall, he arrived on the campus of Georgetown University in Washington, D.C, and by that time the nation was already at war in Afghanistan.  During his freshman year, the United States invaded Iraq. Three mornings a week, Brewster would dress in uniform and walk through Red Square, the area of the campus specifically reserved for student organizations’ promotions and protest.  As it became increasingly clear that the United States would invade Iraq, student protestors set up a camp of tents in protest.  No one who saw him in uniform ever said anything negative, but the encounters stick in his memory to this day.  “They were protesting the war, not my choice to serve, but it was such a stark juxtaposition.”

Of the Georgetown class of 2006, there were only about a dozen graduates combined joining the Air Force, Army, Marines, and Navy as commissioned officers.

“The military has large contingents from certain geographic regions, like the South, and people from lower socio-economic backgrounds,” he says. “I was one of only three Georgetown graduates going into the army. When it comes to the military, the country is segmented along lines of class and region, and to a certain extent, religion.”

BEING JEWISH IN THE ARMY

Brewster, the son of a fifth-generation Episcopal minister and Jewish mother, attended Jewish day school growing up. His father had served in the Navy at the end of the Korean War and his brother was an Army reservist during the first Gulf War, although he did not deploy.

Between Hal’s junior and senior years, he attended a five-week cadet training at Ft. Lewis (now Joint Base Lewis McChord) south of Seattle, Washington.  During one particularly miserable, rainy day out in the field, someone announced that a chaplain was visiting and would hold a non-denominational service in a nearby tent. Eager to get out of the rain, and comfortable with Christian services, Brewster attended. “It ended up being a traditional Catholic mass,” he recalls. After the service, he made an offhand comment to one of the cadre (the officers leading the camp) that the service had been pretty targeted to a specific set of cadets and not, as it had been advertised, non-denominational.

“A few days later, I’m out sitting in the dirt in the forest, and I hear, “‘Cadet Brewster, get over here.’ I was convinced I was in trouble.”

They told him there was someone there to talk to him. It was the Jewish chaplain. “You want to talk?” he asked. “No, not really,” Brewster responded.

“They had called him to speak to me; they thought my comment was me lodging a Jewish protest,” he says.

After graduation, Brewster attended basic officer leader courses in Fort Sill, Oklahoma and Fort Knox, Kentucky before joining his unit, the First Infantry Division, in Ft. Riley, Kansas. He deployed to Iraq in early fall 2008 for one year.

A recent photo of Brewster, left, with his husband, Geoff Wetrosky.

While stationed overseas, he occasionally had the opportunity to engage in Jewish activities around holidays. Before the unit moved north to Iraq, he was stationed at Camp Buehring, a staging post for U.S. troops in the northwestern region of Kuwait.  While there, he saw a flyer for a pre-Kol Nidre meal. “I remember sitting in a tent with eight to 10 people I didn’t really know. This woman, also a soldier, went to great length to cook a meal. She did a great job.  It was a sense of community I did not expect to find and was very comforted to have found just days before I would leave for Baghdad province.”

Brewster’s battalion was initially stationed in a small forward operating base near Mahmudiyah, about 25 miles away from Ur, where the Bible tells us that God first spoke to Abraham.  Later, Brewster’s battalion moved to one of the largest bases in Iraq, on the outskirts of Baghdad.  With the bigger base came more opportunities for religious services.  He heard that on the other side of the base where the generals lived—Camp Victory—there was going to be a service and meal for Rosh Hashanah.  Because the base was so large, he drove one of his platoon’s Humvees to the service.

“I had this tremendous sense of relief.  My platoon had not suffered any casualties, and we were all going to make it home to our families alive,” he says.  “The feeling was all the more powerful because it once again coincided with the traditional time of reflection for Jews.”

In all, Brewster spent four years as an active duty U.S. Army officer, achieving the rank of captain. During his deployment, as a scout and sniper platoon leader, he led 40 specialized soldiers in more than 150 combat missions in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom, and is the recipient of Bronze Star medal for service.

Upon returning home in 2010, he was the veterans outreach coordinator for Ohio’s Gov. Ted Strickland, who was defeated in his gubernatorial reelection bid. Following that, he attended Princeton, where he received a Master of Public Affairs, and then graduated cum laude from Georgetown University Law Center.

“My time in the military will forever be one of the defining chapters of my life,” he reflected.  “It was not until years later, however, when I had some distance, that I began to see how my Judaism was such an important thread running through that time.  I am not the most devout Jew—far from it—but the Jewish traditions that I got to participate in while in theater hold great meaning for me.  I will never forget the High Holy Days bookending my time in Iraq.”

To read Hal Brewster’s reflections at the time, read these blog entries from the New York Times.

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Celebrating Canada 150 – My Story of a New Home

by Irene Shula Banchik

In a few days it’ll be July 1, Canada’s birthday. As an immigrant, I made a big deal of pinning this date in my calendar and participating in as many Canada day events as I can. This year in particular Canada celebrates 150 years and the Calgary Jewish Community Centre rejoiced on June 25 in red and white for the occasion.

In conjunction with other Jewish agencies from the community, we set up a display showcasing the Jewish contribution to building this great country. We had the JCC Community Klezmer Band performing Canadian and Jewish classics and we set up a “Becoming Canadian Café”, four storytelling stations where members of our community related their immigration stories.

These stories were divided in four eras: Agricultural Settlers stories, Urban Settlers and Merchant stories, Post World War II stories and Contemporary immigration stories. And there I was, at that last table telling mine. Care to read on?

At the end of the year 2000, Argentina was living again one of many economic crises that she suffered since the 1930s. This time there was hyperinflation, loss of productivity, unemployment, etc. In order to minimize the damage, the ruling government restricted bank deposits and withdrawals to a maximum of $250 per week, per account, this was known as the “corralito.” This did not go well with the people and the protests started. You can’t see me, but I’m walking among them during the “cacerolazo” (pan banging).

The president and the Minister of Economy had to resign. Argentina had five presidents from Dec. 30, 2001 to Jan. 2, 2002.

During this turmoil that started in early fall 2001, the Jewish community of Winnipeg sent a delegation to Buenos Aires to promote immigration to their city and to help families envision a better future. My then partner, Diego, and I were exiting the offices of the immigration lawyer at 9 a.m. on Sept. 11, 2001—it was 10 a.m. in New York and the South Tower of the World Trade Center was collapsing. With a country in bankruptcy and a world in horror, we decided to search for stability and hope; we believed Canada was able to offer that to us.

Our immigration process took a couple of years until we had all paperwork, medical and finances in place. In order to qualify as a landed immigrant, the Canadian government required that we have a certain amount of money deposited in a Canadian bank account. I’m proud to say that I was one of the first individuals to take their money out of the “corralito” of the bank via a judicial appeal.

Diego arrived in October 2004 with a milk run flight made out of points: Buenos Aires, New York, Chicago, Winnipeg. Work in his field—information technology—didn’t look feasible at that time and he decided to head west, to Vancouver. Money was scarce so he took a Greyhound all across the prairies! With such a long trip, Diego decided to make a stop half way, in Calgary. I emailed a web-based group called “Argentinos en Calgary” and asked if anyone would lend a couch for Diego during his rest stop. Sandra M., one of the members, replied. She was single at that time and I think she wanted to check the guy out, if you know what I mean. … Sandra told her friend Roz O. that she would be hosting a young Argentinean Jewish guy, and Roz, who couldn’t control her Jewish motherly instincts had to meet this guy!

It was love at first sight! Roz and her husband Danny became Diego’s “adopted” parents in Canada. Roz offered Diego her guest room allowing him the peace of mind to start looking for a job. We will be forever grateful to this couple for their hospitality and being our first Canadian friends.

Diego swiftly got a job for IBM in Edmonton and moved out to busy Jasper Ave. For almost a year, Diego would spend many weekends in Calgary, in the company of Roz and Danny. Until one day Roz told Diego that a friend of hers was looking for an IT person to join his start-up in Calgary. Diego had the profile needed for the job and on Sept. 1, 2005, he moved back to Calgary. That same day I was arriving in Canada.

A very conscious decision to build our life in Calgary was to be part of the Jewish community. Lo and behold we rented an apartment two blocks from the Calgary JCC! The JCC gave us a warm welcome by granting us a free membership for a year.

We were starting to call Calgary, home.

There were many people and institutions that helped us settle in, and we gradually embraced the Canadian way of living, eh! First of all we started dressing in layers, we smiled at everyone we saw on the street, and I started volunteering for different organizations. One of those was the Calgary International Film Festival. It was there that I learned about the Walk in Closet at the Making Changes Association, a not-for-profit organization that helps immigrant women (and women in general) dress for success. You can read “My story of giving back” by scrolling to the end.

When I think about Canada, these are the values that resonate with me. I borrowed the Canada 150 logo and made it mine. I hope Mr. Trudeau doesn’t mind.

Three years after arriving in Calgary, I was hired by the Calgary JCC as the youth and young adult coordinator. In 2008, I was promoted to my current position, cultural arts and Israeli programming manager.

And that’s my next story…

I belong here

When you come in to the JCC you are often greeted by your first name. If this doesn’t happen it is because we haven’t had you enough in our centre. We make a point of knowing your name and welcoming you into our home. Yes, home. My home. Sometimes my primary home. I spend many hours in this place.

Home is where your true self blossoms, you have close relationships, you are comfortable with your surroundings, you know your way around.
The JCC is home to me, not only because of all the above, but because I can be creative.

The JCC allows me to dive into this powerful energy of creativity, and when I am in this place, I am the happiest person in the world.
I can create programs, I can create connections with and between people, I can create different atmospheres in our lobby like excitement, anticipation, mystery. Create my favorite verb. Creation. Just like God! Ohhh, don’t get me wrong—let me explain: in the Jewish tradition, it is said that God created men and women last, and then He rested. So humanity has to continue God’s creation. We are co-creators with God, of this world.


My department, Arts & Culture, welcomes people to bring their own talents and share them, and in doing so, we create community. For example, Monique. She loves public speaking, and because she shared with me her passion, we created a public speaking course. People would be able to better themselves, discover hidden abilities, network with people, reflect and re-create themselves.

I love to brainstorm ideas and projects with people. Like with Mijael, a chef from Israel. His passion is to make exotic gourmet jams. Yes, jams, spreads. We brainstormed together, got our creative juices flowing, and we created a “JCC jamming session,” a Middle Eastern flavour jam tasting and open mic evening, rock’n roll style!

I am very lucky. Not many places allow you to have the complete creative freedom that I experience here. This freedom does come with a responsibility and a mission: to be the hub of the Jewish experience in the community. Rabbi Soloveitchik, an American Orthodox Talmudist and modern Jewish philosopher, said: “Every Jew should be at the entrance of his tent.” That means being welcoming to our tradition, and at the same time being engaged with the world and contributing to mankind.

This is what the JCC means to me, and this is why I like our tag so much: You belong here. You can be yourself here. I belong here.

Note that I am wearing the same T-shirt I wear for Canada Day. You make the connection?

My story of giving back

I arrived Sept. 1, 2005. It was a breezy and cold afternoon, though the sun was shining! Way to go Calgary! My wardrobe was ok, but I kept hearing this “dress in layers” motto that I had never heard before.

One of my new Canadian friends recommended I go “find layers” (those words again!) at the Walk-In Closet. When I got there, it was heaven on earth for a fashionista like me! Not only for the clothing options I had for my upcoming job interviews, but for the warmth and love that the volunteers treated me with. The connection we made was instant and I couldn’t wait to have my second appointment! They definitely showed me how “finding layers” worked: first a cami, then a top, on top a cardigan, then a coat, and last a scarf and a hat!

The experience was so fulfilling that I wanted to give back. I wanted other newcomers like me to have the fun, the respect and the empowerment this agency instills in its clients, to dive into creating a better life for themselves. So, 11 years ago, I decided that I wanted to volunteer for this organization.

For the past five years I’ve been a team leader one Saturday each month. Altogether, the experience of giving my time and energy to this organization has contributed to making me a better person and very proud of becoming a Canadian citizen. I am grateful to live in a country that offers so many opportunities for people to become their best.

Shula Banchik is the arts and culture manager at the Calgary JCC in Alberta, Canada, where she designs, produces and delivers an array of unique programs and events that celebrates Jewish life and culture among the Jewish community and the community at large. When she is not preparing the next community event, you can find her at her volunteering jobs, riding her bike, learning about permaculture and advocating for a sustainable world, as tikkun olam (Hebrew for repairing the world) ranks highly in her personal values and professional vision.

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When you find your bashert* at JCC Maccabi®

They were participating in the JCC Maccabi Games®. She was 13, a soccer player from the JCC of Greater Washington. He was a 15-year-old basketball star playing with the JCC of Northern Virginia.

They had arrived at the Mayerson JCC in Cincinnati for the games in 2000. It was his second time competing; for her, it was the first. The gym was teeming with teens. But as host families arrived to pick up their charges for the week, the gym emptied out, leaving Robin Levine and Jesse Dymond as the only two remaining athletes waiting.

They got to talking about the things they liked beyond sports. They made a connection before the host families arrived. Then, during the following days, they saw each other in the group activities and events during the games.

A spark ignited.

“This was before we had cell phones,” Robin recalls. “We would call each other every evening on our host families land lines and talk. I’m sure they were annoyed at us, we were on the phone so much.”

Jesse would cheer Robin on during her soccer games, and she made sure to catch him on the basketball court. At the end of the week, they knew they were going to continue seeing each other. She lived in Bethesda and he was only 20 minutes away, in North Potomac.

They were both competitive athletes, but neither had been involved at a JCC before competing at the JCC Maccabi Games. After that summer, however, the JCC—today known as the Bender JCC of Greater Washington, located in Rockville, Maryland—became their place.

“It was the hangout for us and all of our friends, playing sports, and working out,” says Robin.

They dated on and off throughout high school and college. Robin was recruited to play Division I lacrosse at American University in Washington, D.C. She played two seasons until tearing her ACL for the second time, which ultimately ended her lacrosse career. She decided to focus on her studies in public communication and marketing for the remaining two years of college.

Jesse was recruited to play Division III basketball at Clarkson University in Potsdam, New York.  He, too, decided to focus on his studies and, after a year at Clarkson, transferred to the University of Maryland College Park to get his degree in geographic information systems. He still loved basketball, but was playing only recreationally.

During the time they were apart, they would see each other off and on. But about four years ago, “we decided we didn’t want to be with anyone else but each other.” And on March 18 of this year, they were married at the Ritz-Carlton in Washington, D.C.

Each of them looks back at the JCC Maccabi Games with great fondness, beyond being the means for their meeting. “It was about the athletics, the competition and being away from home, exploring new cities,” says Jesse, who also attended the Games in Rochester, New York, and Miami, Florida, and took home gold medals in 1999 and 2001.

Beyond that, they offered a lot of fun and opportunity. “We were exploring new cities and meeting kids from other Jewish communities across the country. It was a great experience,” says Robin, who returned to the Games another three times. “The opening ceremonies were always huge events—it was fun walking in with your team, seeing all the other teams represented. It felt like the Olympics.”

Because JCC Maccabi® played matchmaker so well, Robin hopes teens today can also form lasting friendships. Or as in their case, form a bond beyond that—love. If it hadn’t been for some tardy host families, it all might not have been. And Jesse knew that, even then.

“When I saw Robin sitting on the gymnasium stage, wearing a yellow sundress, there was no one else in the room. The sun was shining through the window on her, exclusively. I said to myself, ‘One day, I’m going to marry this girl.’”

*your intended

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