Israeli woman’s domestic violence prevention curriculum has far reach
Richard is 18, has four kids under the age of 3 and is doing time at Camp David Gonzales in Malibu for probation violations after being indicted for assault with a deadly weapon.
Today, he and eight other guys from Camp Gonzales are talking about feelings.
The young men, most of them gang members, are participating in theater artist Naomi Ackerman’s “Relationships 101,” a program that uses drama workshops to help young people understand how to build self-worth, engage in healthy relationships and prevent those relationships from turning violent.
Ackerman, who moved to Los Angeles from Israel in 2006, developed a one-woman show, “Flowers Are Not Enough,” with funding from the Israeli Ministry of Welfare 13 years ago. In the show, Ackerman becomes Michal, a woman who suffers under the brutality of her husband. She has performed the show more than 1,000 times all over the world — from rural India to Serbia to New Zealand.
“Relationships 101” grew out of that show, and she now teaches it all over — from yeshivas to public schools to synagogues. She taught the class at Fairfax High School and was searching for funds for more classes when County Supervisor Zev Yaroslavsky (3rd District) offered to fund a $3,500 pilot program at juvenile facilities for the County Department of Probation.
Camp Gonzales, a lush campus tucked into the Santa Monica Mountains off Las Virgenes Road, is home to 90 teenage male wards who are designated both as high risk and high achieving.
Ackerman was a sergeant in the Israeli military, and over the last two months has earned the respect of the group. Today, she has gathered them for a presentation to Yaroslavsky, representatives of other county supervisors and the Probation Department, funders and domestic violence activists.
She tosses a ball to the guys, asking them to shout out words that are harmful to relationships.
“Hate.” “Envy.” “Unfaithful.” “Unreliable.” “Dishonest.” “Cheating.”
Then she asks for words that build positive relationships.
“Faithfulness.” “Communication.” “Respect.” “Trust.” “Caring.” “Humbleness.”
Some of the young men don long wigs and use falsetto voices to play girls in scenarios they chose to present — being rejected on the dance floor, having a girl send a friend to tempt a guy and see if he gives in. They present alternate endings, using ideas they learned about communication, choices and consequences, and how to be agents of change.
Working with Operation Read, a program that teaches kids to read and write, the young men have written love letters, which they read at the presentation.
“You are the best thing to come into my life, and I never want to lose you,” one wrote.
“Your smile glows and warms my insides,” another wrote.
But when asked after the presentation whether they would send those letters to their girlfriends, the boys snorted, “No way.”
Ackerman and detention center administrators know the challenge will be how — or whether — these guys apply what they’ve learned when they get out.
“They’re smart kids, and they know a lot, but they are in these impossible situations at home,” Ackerman said. “I’m hoping to give them some tools to give them better-quality relationships,” she said.
Still, Ackerman and camp director Larry Vangor have both been amazed at how far the boys have come, from not understanding that calling their girlfriend a ho (slang for whore) was insulting, to looking for positive ways to communicate.
Yaroslavsky said the program would more than pay for itself if even one of the participants did not land in prison, where most juvenile detainees end up as adults. He hopes the county will fund more programs and eventually have this, in addition to other existing life-skills programs, become part of the probation education system.
“This is not simply about incarcerating people and locking the door and throwing away the key,” Yaroslavsky said. “It’s an opportunity to take advantage of the time we have with these young kids, to give them some tools that will last them and serve them in the future.”
And Ackerman has seen concrete outcomes when she’s presented “Flowers Are Not Enough” in other venues.
A woman in rural India marshaled all the women in the village to stand together behind her as she confronted her husband. At the Pitchess Detention Center in Castaic, an inmate stood up and cried after “Flowers,” saying he now realized that while he was in prison for assaulting his wife, he should be in instead for sucking the hope out of her.
Ackerman tells of one woman who contacted her years after she had seen the show to say that the message of self-worth came back to her when she found herself in an abusive relationship in college. She broke up with her abuser, and three months later, he killed another girl from her sorority.
Ackerman is hoping the messages she plants with the guys at Camp Gonzales will stick with them.
Corey, Richard and Alex, talking after the show, think they can use what they’ve learned when they get home.
“I have more confidence now to achieve my goals for things I want to do in life,” said Corey, 17. “This whole thing helped me a lot with how to talk to females, and how to treat her.”
“And not just females,” Richard interrupts. “Everybody. If you want to say something, you don’t always got to use cuss words. You can say, ‘I don’t like the way you’re talking tome.’ ”
Alex, 18, hopes to get a college scholarship to play soccer when he gets out, and he says he’ll be able to apply what he’s learned.
“Before I started doing this program, I felt kind of weird, like I don’t want people to see me like, ‘Oh, he’s weak. He has a soft spot for girls.’ Now, I’m not scared to show that I love a girl. You don’t have to treat girls bad to be hard. I’m still a man, you know. That’s what I learned.”
National Domestic Violence Hotline: ” title=”jfsla.org” target=”_blank”>jfsla.org, (818) 505-0900.
National Council for Jewish Women Talkline: ” title=”openpaths.org/our-services/domestic-violence-anger-management” target=”_blank”>openpaths.org/our-services/domestic-violence-anger-management, (310) 691-4455.
Jewish Women International:
Girl Doesn’t Let Pain Stand in Way of Her Bat Mitzvah
Preparing for a bar or bat mitzvah is time consuming. A student in the throes of becoming a teenager has to learn Torah and haftarah portions, plus required prayers and blessings. Then there’s the speech, the mitzvah project and the weekly meetings with the cantor or rabbi, or both.
It’s a lot to sandwich between school and family life.
Now imagine preparing for such a momentous occasion while enduring the ongoing pain of juvenile rheumatoid arthritis.
Abby Ross, 13, had been struggling with aching joints since second grade, not long after she had a bout with chicken pox. And despite treatments that rendered her homebound for weeks at a time, Abby and her family were determined to not let her medical condition overshadow or get in the way of her ceremony last November at University Synagogue, a Reform congregation in Brentwood.
“When she sets her mind to it, she does it,” her father, Ed Ross, said.
When Abby was 8, her parents assumed she was lazy when she complained about the difficulty she had walking up stairs. Eventually, her knees hurt so much there were days she couldn’t walk. Her fingers began swelling, sometimes to the point that she couldn’t write. Although her fingers didn’t hurt as often as her knees, “when it hurt, it hurt bad,” Abby said.
A problem with Abby’s eyes led doctors to finally diagnose her condition.
At first, her parents thought she suffered from a recurring bout of pink eye. But a pediatric ophthalmologist found she had uveitis, an inflammation of the eye’s middle layer, which can lead to blindness and is associated with arthritis, among other conditions.
A rheumatologist diagnosed Abby with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. Also know as juvenile idiomatic arthritis, this inflammatory disorder affects some 300,000 children in the United States.
Doctors put Abby on a drug used in chemotherapy, which left her fatigued and nauseous. She occasionally missed school for weeks at a time following the treatments, and her mother, Debbie, stayed home to care for her.
“Some days, I was like, ‘Why?’ when it was really bad pain,” Abby said. “Other days, it totally didn’t hurt.”
After more than four years, Abby switched from treatments at UCLA Medical Center and Childrens Hospital to having her parents give her injections at home.
“It became routine, but the first few times were tough,” Ed Ross said.
Abby studied more than an hour each night, five days a week in the nine months leading up to her bat mitzvah. She also wrote three speeches: one explaining her Torah portion, one detailing her haftarah and a personal speech reflecting how far she had come as a Jew and how she could be a better Jew in the future.
For University Synagogue’s community service requirement, Abby said it was a no-brainer: the Arthritis Foundation.
“I wanted to do something meaningful for me,” Abby said. “Throughout this process, I wanted everything to be equally important. If I did Heal the Bay like everyone else, it would’ve looked like it was something I had to do. I had motivation. I had pride. I wanted to do something that mattered to me.”
As a fourth-grader, Abby convinced most of the fourth- and fifth-grade class at Westwood Charter School to attend the annual Arthritis Walk. The next year, her fifth-grade class walked.
For her bat mitzvah project, Abby raised $1,500 for the foundation.
Her mother, Debbie Ross, said she has already started signing up people for this year’s walk at Emerson Middle School.
Rabbi Morley Feinstein said he was amazed by Abby’s growth as a Jew and her motivation to earn a Golden Kippah, taking on the extra work that included attending Shabbat services regularly and making amends with someone.
“When a child reaches out and helps someone else, they grow as a Jewish adult,” Feinstein said.
Abby and her family recently received word that her arthritis is in remission. Although it could return at any time — or never again — Abby said she doesn’t spend much time thinking about it. She’s busy living her life, and when it comes to her condition she keeps a practical outlook typically reserved for worldly adults.
“It’s kind of scary,” she said, “but I’m sort of, like, I’ve been through this before. It can’t be as bad.”