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March 9, 2007

City Voice: We’re not who we think we are

There is a preconceived notion about the Los Angeles Jewish community being affluent, increasingly conservative and preoccupied with Israel to the exclusion of other issues.

There is some truth in this, as is the case with all preconceived notions and stereotypes. There is also some untruth.

Before the 2004 election, for example, we pundits wrote much about an anticipated Jewish shift to the Republican Party. But on Election Day, Sen. John Kerry, the Democratic nominee, received 78 percent of the Jewish vote, according to a post-election study conducted for the Solomon Project by five established political pollsters.

“This number has been remarkably stable over the last three presidential elections,” they said in their report.

And there’s poverty among us. In November 2004, Jewish Journal senior writer Mark Ballon reported on a Jewish Federation of Greater Los Angeles study that found one in five local Jews earn less than $25,000 annually. In greater Fairfax, with its large senior and immigrant population, the figure was one in three.

Aiming to puncture more stereotypes, I visited the single-room office of the Jewish Labor Committee and talked to the western executive director, Cookie Lommel, an African American woman, a journalist and the writer of books on famous people for young adults. She is, to her knowledge, the first African American woman to head a Jewish organization.

“Stereotypes are hard to kill,” she said. “That’s why I’m here.”
The liberal Jewish Labor Committee was founded in 1934 on the Lower East Side of New York by unionized Jewish garment workers organizing a movement against Hitler’s assault on independent trade unions. The Los Angeles operation began eight months later. Soon their efforts expanded to try to rescue German and East European Jewry. Today, the committee works closely with unions representing teachers and other public employees, supermarket workers, janitors and other elements of the labor movement in Los Angeles.

“We are the link between the organized Jewish community and the labor movement,” Lommel said.

In 1991, as a journalist, she became interested in the airlift of Ethiopian Jews to Israel. She wrote about it for black publications.

Afterward, she started Operation Unity, bringing African American and Latino high school students to Israel, where they worked on a kibbutz. Eventually, that led her to the small Jewish Labor Committee office on the second floor of the Institute of Jewish Education building, a few blocks east of the Beverly Center. Shifting from computer to desk to work table, answering the phone and my questions, Lommel was commander of her one-woman show. Her door was open, and the sounds of a preschool in the yard below provided the background to our chat.

I had called Lommel because it had occurred to me that the news media was not telling the entire Jewish story. We see Jewish Hollywood, Jewish business tycoons and Jewish political contributors, all of them at the top of the economic ladder.

Lommel knows a blue-collar side to Jewish life.

“There is a high percentage of Jews in the membership and leadership of unions,” she said.

Not all of Hollywood’s Jews are studio execs. Plenty are members of IATSE, the union representing technicians, crafts people, artists and stagehands.

Another place where you find large numbers of Jewish members is in the fast-growing unions representing government employees. I can’t think of a grittier, more blue-collar job than being a Los Angeles County social worker, driving through the poorest neighborhoods, checking up on dysfunctional homes, always worried that one wrong decision could leave a kid in the hands of a brutal parent.

Another tough job is being a school teacher. Jews are also supermarket checkers, as Lommel discovered while on the picket line during the 2003-2004 market strike. She told me about a striking checker encountering a longtime Jewish customer, who was shocked at seeing a nice Jewish woman carrying a picket sign. The customer’s surprise reflects how much of the Jewish community accepts stereotypes about itself.

Accepting these stereotypes takes the Jewish community out of the game on important issues vital to poor, working class and middle class Jews.

Certainly Israel is of great importance. The Jewish Labor Council was quick to join other Jewish organizations in protest when the United Teachers of Los Angeles’ (UTLA) 25-member Human Rights Committee planned a meeting at UTLA headquarters to discuss economic sanctions against Israel. The union, which has a total membership of 48,000, decided to deny the use of its headquarters for the event.

But there are issues besides Israel, including one of tremendous importance: the public schools. The people I’m writing about — the teachers, the social workers, the movie industry artists and technicians who don’t work in slow months — can’t afford private schools. They are entitled to send their children to good public schools. It is their right, just as it is the right of every American.

The influential, high-profile elements of the Jewish community are missing in action on this issue. To them, the public schools are a Latino thing or an African American thing. Actually, public education has always been a Jewish thing. And, considering what our community is really like, it still is.

Until leaving the Los Angeles Times in 2001, Bill Boyarsky worked as a political correspondent, a Metro columnist for nine years and as city editor for three years. He can be reached at bw.boyarsky@verizon.net.

City Voice: We’re not who we think we are Read More »

Masquerade

“Beware the beautiful masked woman on Purim.”

I texted a young friend after midnight on Saturday night, before my carriage turned into a Purim
pumpkin. Because when he saw me, he didn’t know it was me.

I suppose I couldn’t blame him: My hair was blown out straight and silky, I was wearing a fancy lace strapless number because I’d been at a wedding that day and, for the occasion of Purim, I donned an extravagant purple-feathered eye mask.

I didn’t exactly mean to go incognito, but when my friend Ben didn’t recognize me — even after chatting with me for a minute at the noisy Purim carnival — I realized I was onto something: I could be anyone.

Don’t get me wrong, I like myself. I “really, really like me.” Most of the time, anyway. But there are scant opportunities in life to observe other people at their most boisterous and maintain anonymity — unless you count watching reality television. This was my chance to actually interact with people who were being completely and totally themselves, albeit dressed up as something other than themselves.

Costumes have a way of doing that for a person; paradoxically, by shifting their persona, they can shine and be their best selves.

This is probably why I have always loved “fancy dress” parties. Growing up religious, Purim was one of my only opportunities for wearing a costume, aside from theme parties (preppie/nerd, literary characters, etc.). In the last few years I’ve added Halloween to my repertoire, but here in Los Angeles a costume party seems to be an excuse to dress as sluttily as possible — which, in principle, I’m not necessarily against — but bearing one’s belly button, to my mind, defies the whole notion of not revealing oneself.

For me, just dressing up is not enough. On Thursday, at a Purim party at Pearl’s, sponsored by Atid, Stephen S. Wise and Taglit/Birthright, I was a flapper in a white shimmying dress, white stole and long cigarette (I didn’t inhale). It was glam and fun (I won a prize! Although I came in behind “Jews for Cheeses”).

But at Saturday night’s Ikar social justice carnival I realized what I really want from a costume party: To be masked. Concealed. Hidden. Veiled. I suppose I could have gone in a burka (topical, yet modest!), but I think my dramatic streak has always yearned for masquerade balls of old — women swathed in layers of satin, bewigged in piles of curls, corseted in laces that squeezed the lifeblood out of them, ensconced behind bejeweled masks — identities so subsumed they could lose themselves for the night.

And so it came to pass, in the Time of the New Millennia in the land of Angels … at J-Connect’s party on Sunday night, I went completely undercover. To match my purple mask, I wore a purple lace vintage dress (wire stays instead of corset) and the most mysterious smile I could muster. Because, apparently, it’s not the eyes that are the window to the soul, but the smile.

“Is that Amy Klein?” said my friend Avi, who had overlooked me in a group conversation until I grinned.

“You should write more because I want to read about someone who feels as miserable as I do,” he said.

I quickly pulled my mask down as I made my way around the room, eavesdropping, conversing, listening and flirting.

Meeting people in costume is a double-edged sword: It’s mysteriously alluring, but what if the man under the sufi hat has no hair?

“What if your cheeks are as fuzzy as your mask?” one suitor asked, begging for a peek. Since it was only my eyes, I lifted the mask for a moment, to assuage him that I wasn’t Chewbacca.

“Do I know you?” others said. I shook my head, no, with a smile.

Tonight I didn’t want to be known. Amid the sea of costumes, from the store-bought (policeman, red riding hood, etc.) to the topical (a dead-on mustachioed Borat) and the minimalist (cowboy/girl, pirate, kitten) and a scantily clad belly dancer or two (see: Halloween), I was one of the few to remain faceless.

What does that say about me? Am I secretly afraid to reveal my truest self? And what does it say about those who don’t dress up at all? Are they so unabashedly themselves they don’t need to hide behind a costume? Or are they just afraid to let go? Do they not know the beauty of the Purim commandment, to get drunk enough so you don’t know the difference between “Cursed Haman” and “Blessed Mordechai?” (Do they even know who Haman and Mordechai are?) Do they not know that Purim is a time to shake it up a bit; be someone you normally aren’t — or at least different from how others may see you?

That was what my costume afforded me: the ability to escape others’ perception of me for the evening. Yes, behind the mask, it was still me in there, intermittently wondering things like, what am I doing here? Why can’t I be lying on my couch reading the Sunday New York Times? Does red wine stain? But no one knew it was me, and that allowed me to mostly escape myself. My sometimes fabulous, sometimes neurotic, multifaceted, misunderstood self.

So yes, t’was I behind the purple plumed feathers. Sorry if I didn’t say hello.

But heads-up for next Purim: I think I’ll be wearing a burka.

Masquerade Read More »

Leaders of the PAC are back

The Pac-10 Mens’ Basketball Tournament returns to Staples Center this week, and Jewish athletes Derek Glasser and Alex Pribble join their teams in the quest for the Conference Tournament Title.

Glasser, the starting point guard for Arizona State Sun Devils (8-21; 2-16 in Pac-10) averages 27.7 minutes per game, logging more total minutes this season than any freshman in the school’s history. Glasser took Artesia High School to the 2006 California State Championship Title, and the 6-foot-1 player welcomes his role as a team leader for Arizona State.

“As a point guard, leadership is a role you have to take on. You’re the one with the ball the majority of the game, trying to get guys where they need to go,” said Glasser, who sunk a buzzer-beating three-point shot on Saturday, sealing the Sun Devils’ 42-41 win over UC Berkeley.

A three-time gold medalist at the Cincinnati, Houston and Philadelphia Maccabi Games, Glasser considers the games a formative moment in his athletic and Jewish life.

“Seeing all the Jewish athletes at that level of competition was a great experience,” Glasser said.

Ranked 10th in the Pac-10, Glasser and the Sun Devils face Washington (18-12; 8-10 in Pac-10) in their first round of tournament play, in what many consider the toughest conference in the nation. The Marina del Rey native is ready to take on the challenge and is thrilled to compete in front of his hometown crowd.
“Growing up in L.A., playing at Staples Center will be an incredible experience,” Glasser said.

UC Berkley senior Pribble happily returns to Staples for his fourth Pac-10 tournament.

“Everyone is so friendly, there are fans everywhere, it’s a lot of fun,” said Pribble, who earned Pac-10 all-academic honors his sophomore and junior years
Originally a freshman walk-on, the 6-foot-4 sociology major became a scholarship player at Cal in his junior year. He now contributes key minutes off the bench and plays an invaluable role on the team.

“As a short, fairly unathletic Jewish boy, I don’t necessarily have the natural athleticism to play with these guys who are so unbelievably talented and athletic,” he said. “So my role has been more of an energy thing, coming in, playing very tough and physical defense, just trying to make a difference and bring the whole energy up on the floor.”

Though Pribble’s not observant, Judaism plays a pivitol role in his life. “It’s a moral guide, not necessarily in a ‘go to temple everyday’ kind of setting, but in a ‘know the difference between right and wrong, what to care about, what to be thankful for’ setting,” said Pribble, who played on the U.S. team in the 2006 Maccabi Australian International games and returned wanting to have an adult bar mitzvah.

Pribble and the Cal Bears (14-16, 6-12 in the Pac-10) face the Oregon State Beavers (11-20, 3-15 in Pac-10) in the tournament’s opening round. Pribble, who started the past three games, is ready for the match-up and hopes his team goes deep in the tournament. “Basketball is about working hard and putting your effort on the floor — just play ball and play hard,” he said.

The Pac-10 Tournament runs March 7-10. For more information visit /

Saturday the 10th

Billing Deb Filler as “New Zealand’s funniest Jewish export” may beg us to try to think of just one other funny Kiwi, period. But heaped on top of that somewhat faint praise are glowing reviews from many publications, including the Philadelphia Inquirer and the Boston Globe. Tonight, the comic actress, who’s also been called “consistently clever,” “warm,” “gifted” and “funny,” presents “Don’t Get Me Started” at Steinway Hall.

8 p.m. $25. Steinway Hall at Fields Pianos, 12121 W. Pico Blvd., Los Angeles. R.S.V.P., (310) 471-3979.

Sunday the 11th

Funny Kiwis, rockin’ Israelis, radio Glass, Amy Arbus Read More »

In which our loyal readers take us to task for various and sundry

Spoof Cover

As the former creative director for Primedia for nearly 10 years and the publisher of Blvd Magazine, I was responsible for dozens of magazines, their content and their covers. In my weekly staff meetings, I never would have turned to any of you losers for cover ideas if the Purim spoof covers was your claim-to-fame (Cover, March 2). I wouldn’t have hired any of you.

Take a minute the next time your “‘creatives’ who make it all possible” come-up with another great idea. Go to the waiting room of one of the Jewish cemeteries or a market outside of Beverly Hills, like Chino Hills where I live, and look to see how your “genius” covers look to the real world. I cringe!

Elliot Gilbert
via e-mail

Truth About Peace Now

In his letter, Nathan Wirtschafter is misleading the readers by claiming as fact something that is patently false (Letters, Feb. 23). Readers may be unaware that Peace Now was established by 348 Israel Defense Forces officers and reservists in 1978. They were not pacifists and neither is the movement, which soon grew into the largest grass-roots movement in Israeli history. Peace Now believes strongly in Israel’s military deterrent and use of force, when necessary.

Peace Now’s goal is to help Israel establish permanent, defensible borders with her neighbors and ultimately negotiated peace agreements that solidify Israel’s security and its Jewish and democratic character.

David Pine
West Coast Regional Director
Americans for Peace Now

Support Our Jewish Troops

Thank you for publishing Jane Ulman’s article about Jewish soldiers in World War II who celebrated Purim with a liberated Jewish family in Belgium (“When a Holiday Turned the World Right Side Up,” March 2). Demographics notwithstanding, there are Jews who serve on active duty in the United States today. Whatever your politics, it is nice to show them some support.

Last year, generous minyan regulars from Pasadena Jewish Temple & Center, including Rabbi Joshua Levine-Grater and Rabbi Emeritus Gilbert Kollin, shipped greeting cards, kosher salami and tefillin to our appreciative Jewish troops. If your readers would like to provide our Jewish soldiers, sailors and Marines with kosher food this Passover, please consider a donation to the JWB Jewish Chaplains Council 520 Eighth Avenue, New York, NY 10018 (www.jcca.org/jwb).

Anita Susan Brenner
Pasadena

Sorry, I Don’t See Any Eggshells

I am writing to respond to the closing quote in Tom Tugend’s article on the firing of Craig Prizant (“Federation Might Face Suit Over Fundraiser’s Firing,” March 2). I’m responding because this quote refers to me, as I am a 12-year member of the campaign staff at The Jewish Federation. In my view, the quote makes very incorrect assumptions about the mood in our department.

At this time, I find an incredible “esprit de corps” and lots of hard work happening on the campaign floors. Contrary to the anonymous board member who was quoted in the article, I have not heard anyone speak of fear of losing their job. It seems to me that staff has been invited to speak out and share their opinions more than ever before. It seems to me that morale is high during this busy time of year for us.

Our mission of tikkun olam continues moving forward with a group of amazing, passionate fundraisers and our entire staff doing an incredible job. There are great things happening here at The Jewish Federation.

With all apologizes to the anonymous board member you quote, I haven’t seen any eggshells scattered around anywhere.

Gwenn Drucker-Flait
via e-mail

Not-so-Kosher Guide

I am a Jewish Persian woman who has lived in Los Angeles for the past 30 years (“A Guide to Jewish Tehrangeles,” Feb. 23). I was glad to see you reporting on Persian Jewish Communities in Los Angeles and showing all people we are educated people who contribute and enjoy living in the United States.

I just had issues with your article written by Sara Bakhshian, under the heading “Handy Guide to Jewish Tehrangeles,” because I thought it was extremely misleading and wrong.

If this is a Jewish Journal, it should not have included nonkosher restaurants and bakeries and represented them in your magazine. It can be misleading for a lot of other Jewish readers that read your magazine and think if it is listed under this heading they must be kosher. Darya is a nonkosher restaurant, for example.

I have nothing against a nonkosher establishment. I just though it was wrong to put any food or eatery that does not observe Jewish laws in your list.

Mojy Lavi
Beverly Hills

Dear Mr. Suissa

I have heard eulogies by clergy who did not know the deceased, or barely knew the deceased as a congregant, and here David Suissa, a person who did not know Laura, and was not required to eulogize her, wrote a most moving eulogy (“Death in the Hood,” Feb. 23).

I am Laura’s father. Laura’s mother and I thank you for a most moving tribute, which we, Laura’s extended family and her friends, will treasure.

Yours was a tribute not only to the person, but also to the religious, ethical and moral values by which she and her husband Steve attempted to conduct their lives.

Laura and her brother, Gunnar, followed my trade and became divorce lawyers. Of course, my pride is not only in their professional accomplishments, but also in the ethical values they brought to their practices.

To the Aish community, Laura is being remembered, as is appropriate, by her contributions to that community. What helps us in the healing process is that we have no regrets about anything Laura did. We have only pride for her contributions to her family, her community and her profession.

I will be looking for other writings by you on-line. You write exceedingly well.

In which our loyal readers take us to task for various and sundry Read More »

Koreatown residents visit the synagogue next door

When Charles Kim called Rabbi Stephen Julius Stein of Wilshire Boulevard Temple last year, it didn’t take long for the Korean American leader to get to the point.

“He was wondering if the temple was for sale,” said Stein, head of the synagogue’s Center for Religious Inquiry. “I can’t sell you the temple, I replied, but I hope I can sell you on a relationship.”

A series of discussions about how to bring the Korean and Jewish communities together followed. After Stein accepted an invitation to address a Koreatown Rotary Club meeting in December, he invited the Korean American community to the Byzantine-style synagogue on Feb. 27.

During an evening open house reception at Wilshire Boulevard Temple that featured desserts such as sticky sweet rice cakes and hamantaschen, Korean Americans and Jews gathered to dialogue about mutual understanding and to discuss conditions in the formerly Jewish Wilshire Center district, which is now home to the largest Korean population outside of Seoul.

While the Jewish and predominantly Korean communities have had dialogues before, this intercultural initiative marks the first time the Wilshire Center synagogue has opened its doors to the surrounding Korean community, which is predominantly Christian. About 80 people attended the event, which included Korean business and educational leaders as well as synagogue clergy, staff and congregants.

“It took us 34 years to get here,” said Kim, national president of the Korean American Coalition. “Thank you for making us feel at home. Shalom.”

A major topic of discussion between the Jewish and Korean communities was the shared use of the building’s facilities, which already house a predominantly Hispanic charter school during the day. Proposed joint ventures include introductory Judaism courses taught in Korean, a brown-bag lunch lecture series, and educational trips to Israel and Korea.

But a more daunting, shared problem facing the area is gang activity, Stein said. Among the 11 most dangerous L.A. gangs recently identified by Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, one is active in Koreatown.

“That’s our neighborhood,” said Stein, gesturing to the entire room. “We all have to work on that.”

Kim echoed Stein’s enthusiasm for cooperation between the ethnically, religiously and culturally distinct communities.

“Up until now, we have been like many islands, instead of one community,” said Kim, who traveled to Israel in 1987 as part of an Asian goodwill delegation.

This is not the first attempt at Korean-Jewish togetherness. A decade ago the American Jewish Committee launched a project to bring local Korean and Jewish business and political leaders together, and in 2005 the Simon Wiesenthal Center and The Jewish Federation held a “Talking Tolerance” discussion with Koreans and Jews. In the heart of Koreatown, the Rev. Yong-Soo Hyun runs the Shema Educational Institute, which promotes the study of Hebrew and Jewish culture.

Wilshire Boulevard Temple hopes to become an ongoing and significant partner in the life of the neighborhood.

The corner of Wilshire Boulevard and Hobart Street was once known as “the Jewish address” in Los Angeles, according to the synagogue’s literature. Originally dedicated in 1929, the building is actually the third inhabited by Los Angeles’ oldest synagogue community, founded as Congregation B’nai B’rith in 1862. After much of the Jewish population shifted West, Wilshire Boulevard Temple built the Audrey and Sydney Irmas Campus on the corner of Olympic Boulevard and Barrington Avenue in the mid-1990s.

The synagogue recently commissioned a demographic survey to determine how many Jewish families live in the surrounding mid-Wilshire area, and officials were surprised to discover a near 30 percent increase in Jewish residents within a 20-minute drive of the Koreatown campus.

“We are deeply committed to this neighborhood and plan to be here for hundreds of years to come,” Senior Rabbi Steven Z. Leder said.

Following the reception, guests were led on an hour-long tour of the synagogue, which features biblical murals by artist Hugo Ballin and a 100-foot dome in the Edgar F. Magnin Sanctuary.

“It is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen,” Kim said of the sanctuary.

When Stein told the story of a synagogue’s Torah scroll being rescued from a barn in Czechoslovakia during the Holocaust, the Korean guests were awed.

“Wow,” said Jun Su, executive director of the Korean Institute of Southern California, an educational organization. “A miracle.”

Stein nodded and smiled.

A spirit of hope and optimism surrounding a new friendship dominated the event, but there was one point of dispute between the Jews and Koreans. During the press conference, Kim strode up to the podium after Stein and said in a very solemn tone, “I have one correction to make.”

Kim looked to Stein and joked, “I never asked Stephen to sell me the temple. I asked him to give it to me.”

Wilshire Boulevard Temple, ‘ target=’_blank’>www.kacla.org

Shema Educational Institute,