
Play it Again, Sam
It may have taken 41 years, but non-Persian Jews now are finding a seat at our tables.

It may have taken 41 years, but non-Persian Jews now are finding a seat at our tables.

I might be the last person in America to receive a coronavirus vaccine. And that is just fine.

We are entering a bizarre moment, caught between two extremes.

Find the embers that are already burning inside of you so that you can fan the flames.

I’ve decided that it’s finally time to start lying about how old I am.

Telling America it is irredeemably racist undermines faith in our country. It encourages the taking down of institutions rather than their reform.

Just because Hanukkah and Christmas are around the same time doesn’t mean we need to compare them or lump them in together.

One lesson we learn from the Maccabees is that victories do not guarantee their perpetuation.

Whether coconut or olive oil, sfenj or patacones, celebrating women or hiding lit hanukkiahs away from sight, every Mizrahi or Sephardic Hanukkah tradition has its own vibrant story.

I can spend years asking myself, “Who am I?” But it won’t guide me as much as asking, “What should I do now?”




