Temple field trip

As part of the eighth grade curriculum at Jordan's religious school, the kids take an all-day field trip to connect with different immigrant and refugee communities in south Seattle. They started the day at East African Community Services, where they had a lesson about the questions you have to be able to answer to pass the US citizenship test. They also heard from a Somali refugee who grew up in a refugee camp in Kenya: he said that in the mornings they would chase the sleepy hyenas, but in the evenings they had to be careful because the then-wide-awake hyenas would chase them. They had lunch at an Ethiopian restaurant and heard from the owner about her journey to the US; at 17, she won a lottery for a US visa, and came here without her family to start a business. 

In the afternoon we visited a Vietnamese Buddhist temple; we were welcomed by a very friendly and informative young man in grey robes, took off our shoes to briefly admire the gorgeous sanctuary, heard a brief biography of the Buddha, and spent most of our time in the amazing gardens above the temple, full of statues and murals. The rabbi had prepared a scavenger hunt to find all the Buddhist symbols and learn what they mean. It was fascinating!

I went along as a chaperone, which was very easy, and gave me the opportunity to see Jordan among his Temple classmates. I observed that the kids sorted themselves into three clear groups: (1) the girls, (2) the boys, and (3) the Billings and SJCS kids, which was a mixed-gender group. This grouping is only a little oversimplified: there was one boy who moved back and forth between groups 2 and 3, and one pair of friends that was mostly on their own. But it was easy to observe. In this photo, they are bunched together but still basically in these three groups.

I didn't pay much attention to the group of girls, but I observed the boys' group, and it was fascinating to me. They had a very different style than Jordan and his friends. They presented as more sportsy, more consciously stylish in their clothes and hairstyles, and a little rougher in terms of their language and demeanor. They were perfectly well-behaved - all the kids were extremely pleasant all day - but  they seemed a little socially precocious to me, as if they were acting a couple years older than they are. Now I have to admit the possibility that their parents might think my kid and his friends are acting young for their age... we don't get to say which is the "right" way to be! But what I can say is that groups 2 and 3 were distinctly different. No wonder they don't hang out together; even though everyone is perfectly nice to everyone else, they don't suit each other.

This was extremely informative for me, because I often have the impulse to encourage Jordan to connect with the other eighth graders at Temple, with the idea that this could be a valuable social group for him outside of school. What I saw of these different groups taught me that Jordan already knows who his people are. Group 3 is his people, and group 2 is really not his people generally speaking (though there are a couple kids in there that he enjoys one-on-one). He is doing great and I should cheerfully keep my mouth shut.

Pikuach nefesh

At Aaron's school, there is a Shabbat service each Friday afternoon and two kids are specially honored, so that in the course of the year each kid at the school has a special day. Family visits to celebrate them, and they get to choose the songs, lead the blessings, and (in the upper grades) deliver a "Shabbat report." Fifth graders are asked to report on a family member who embodies a particular mitzvah. Here is Aaron's report, about my dad. It's beautiful to hear part of what his grandpa meant to him.

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My grandpa, Steve Scherr, did the mitzvah of pikuach nefesh, saving a life. He was a criminal defense lawyer, and he thought that the death penalty was wrong. Protecting people from the death penalty in his cases was an important part of his life. He tried hard to do this.

He defended lots of people in criminal trials, including the husband of a hair salon owner, a priest, politicians, police officers, homeless people, millionaires, college professors, and Dan White--the murderer of a popular mayor of San Francisco. Many of his cases were death penalty trials. He fought hard for his clients, and none of them were sentenced to death. This meant he saved the lives of many people.

What inspired him to defend these people is that, the way he saw it, he was not only helping his clients. He was helping all their friends, family, and community. In Jewish tradition, the midrash says that saving one life is like saving a whole world. My grandpa must have saved at least 50 worlds then.

He said “For the American judicial system to work, everyone needs the best legal help they can get.” He knew judges and juries make mistakes, and a mistake in the the death penalty can never be taken back. He also knew that, sadly, the death penalty is racist. This means that more black people are killed, sometimes for things they didn’t do. This is horrible and mean and scary, and it needs to be fixed.

When my grandpa defended people, he showed צֶדֶק, justice, to every single person he defended. I learned from my grandpa just how many problems there are in our country's judicial system. The judicial system can be racist, sexist and be very unfair to homeless people and countless other groups. This needs to be fixed and that's why people like my grandpa are around. Thank you for listening and shabbat shalom. 

Halloween

This year for Halloween I got it in my head that I wanted to make a kitty litter cake. This has got to be the most revolting cake joke ever, while also being delicious and funny (not scary). You start with homemade chocolate and vanilla cakes and crumble them together... in a catbox. Brand new from the store of course, but still.

Then you mix the crumbles with pudding, to make it stick together, and cover the top with white cookie crumbs. Some people like to stain a fraction of the cookie crumbs green, to mimic the chlorophyll that is in some kinds of cat litter, but I just left it plain.

Then you make homemade fudge, and roll it into poo shapes.

Isn't that lovely! I laughed and laughed the whole time I did this. Some people like to use tootsie rolls instead, but of course fudge is better. Then you arrange plenty of poo in the catbox. You just have to drape one over the edge, don't you agree? It puts the whole thing right over the top.

And then you serve it with a scoop. New, like the catbox, but still.

Once I had decided to make a kitty litter cake, of course I had to be the cat. Our friends have an annual fabulous Shabbatoween party, so there was a great audience. I draped a towel over the catbox and carried it around with me at the party; with each person I met, I said, "I am the most polite cat you'll ever meet because I bring my own catbox," and unveiled the load of poo. I said I was carrying it around "for convenience."

It was the BEST. People shrieked and cracked up and recoiled and went to get their friends and kids to show them what I had. After a while I served it. Some people could not eat the poo; others only ate the poo. Some people could not eat it at all. One friend of Jordan's said, "I have mixed feelings about this cake. My tongue is telling me it's delicious, but my mind is telling me to throw it up." One friend of Aaron's said, "Wow, your mom's poo is the best!" It was all very satisfying.

I also made my Shabbatoween classic, candy corn challah. Horrible stuff, and yet, we just have to have it.