Open a Paper, Open a Community

“Hey, Suissa, when’s the print coming back?” I can’t tell you how often I’ve heard that question in recent months. It’s heartwarming to see that, since we put the print edition on hiatus last year because of the COVID lockdown, the community has really missed it.

Well, we missed you, too. 

I must say it feels good to be back in print. Look, digital is amazing, instant and miraculous. We can post stories in seconds on our website. It’s like a popcorn machine that never stops popping. And yes, the print hiatus enabled us to significantly increase our online presence, turning us into a global brand. We published hundreds of stories and thought-provoking commentaries. We updated our content daily, sometimes hourly. We expanded our podcasts and social media. All of those goodies continue to pop daily and hourly on Jewishjournal.com.

But print is a completely different experience.

Because print is a physical product distributed in a specific geographical area, it defines a community. There’s nothing global about our print readership. The paper is produced for our local community and is read by our local community.

There’s an organic bond between paper and community. When you turn the pages of a paper, you can actually feel the community in your hands. No computer screen can duplicate that feeling.

There’s an organic bond between paper and community. When you turn the pages of a paper, you can actually feel the community in your hands. No computer screen can duplicate that feeling.

In a recent webinar on Jewish journalism, one of my co-panelists brought up his past experience editing a Jewish paper on the East Coast. “It’s like there was no community without the paper,” he said. “The paper defined the community.”

I reflected on what he said. Without a community paper, a community is just a hazy idea floating somewhere in our minds. A paper brings it all together, concretely, in one place. Page by page, through local stories and events and reporting and commentaries, you can see your community unfold. Even the ads are part of the experience, because advertisers are integral to the community.

Paper holds another edge over digital: it slows us down. Instead of constantly clicking on links, we leisurely flip pages. There’s no rush. We can savor the content to our satisfaction, without the restless urge to scan or click or check our Twitter feeds.

Paper is the Shabbat of the reading experience. It denotes a boundary from the harried pace of the digital life. Just as Shabbat slows us down to reconnect with things that are real, so does paper.

We were hoping, of course, to bring the paper back in a post-COVID world, when the pandemic-induced anxieties would be behind us. Well, the Delta variant had other plans. Even post-vaccine, we still worry about safety, about distancing, about wearing masks, about loneliness, about hugging. Who will go to synagogue over the High Holy Days and how will schools adapt to the continuing restrictions? So much still feels up in the air.

I’ll confess that when the Delta variant hit, we considered delaying the return of the print. But we concluded that the ongoing anxiety is even more reason to bring back the paper, which can serve as a weekly communal gathering place.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned during the pandemic, it’s that when you feel the world is spinning out of control, you attach yourself to the things that matter most— things like family, friendships, nature, health, spirituality and, yes, a local community paper. 

I’ve been touched by how so many people have missed the paper. For many of our readers, from the San Fernando Valley to the West Side to Pasadena and the South Bay, the Journal has become a weekly ritual that connects them to their tradition and community.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned during the pandemic, it’s that when you feel the world is spinning out of control, you attach yourself to the things that matter most— things like family, friendships, nature, health, spirituality and, yes, a local community paper. 

Sure, it takes a lot of work and expense to create, print and distribute a paper week after week. But the fact that our readers appreciate it so much is what keeps us going. And we’re fortunate to have an amazing team that helps produce the award-winning paper you’re holding in your hands.

As you’ll see, we didn’t make too many changes to the look and style of the paper; it’s got all the richness and variety you’ve come to expect. You may have heard that we were named the best Jewish paper in the country by the American Jewish Press Association for the second year in a row. Why mess with success?

We did add a new section called “Rabbis of L.A.” that will profile a different rabbi each week. Our Jewish community is as diverse and fascinating as any in the world. These features, written by Danielle Berrin, will help convey our diversity. You’ll find them opposite the last page, as a kind of weekly exclamation point.

As we enter the High Holy Days, with so many unanswered questions, rest assured that we’ve answered at least one: Yes, your favorite Jewish paper is back. So sit back, slow down, and, as our new print slogan says, “open your community.”

Shana Tova, and see you all next week.