Down with the Patriarchy!

B"h

Okay!!

I’ve started and deleted (well actually copied and pasted to the nether regions of my hard drive) too many posts to count (that is not true, I’m just not in the mood of counting, and who cares anyways?) in the past few days. Some silly, more sad, many angry.

And you know what? The last thing the internet needs is another introspective piece about what went right and what went wrong. That and another video of a cat cuddling with a deer. Actually we could always use more of those.

But our cat is too busy eating lizards, and the local deer wants nothing to do with her. Says she only cuddles with striped cats. Whatever, we all have our issues.

In my marvelous Facebook newsfeed, now mostly an hodgepodge of political and photographic posts, with an advertisement for boots every few scrolls (seriously Facebook?! I bought my boots already, I am not in the market anymore!), someone posted the following:

(This is how much I love you guys, I actually typed this out from a photo. You know, because somehow on facebook it’s so much cooler to post a picture of words than just the words themselves.)

Well actually I’ll just paraphrase:

(for the original (in Hebrew) see here (start from אות מג) )

In 1958, it was a hot and humid (probably) Monday at the end of June and 770 Eastern Parkway, in the Crown Heights section of Brooklyn, was jam-packed as all listened (okay, almost all) to the Lubavitcher Rebbe giving a communal address in honor of the Chassidic holiday of י’ב תמוז.

Towards the end, the Rebbe spoke about “who is smart, he who learns from everyone”, and got into a little digression about how we as Jews have to learn from our country and her politics, especially on the left, where there are women in high positions of power (remember this was early in the modern feminism movement (ten years before the song "It's a Man's Man's Man's World"), where, especially in religious circles, men held most positions of power and leadership).

He then spoke about how in the Lurianic teachings of Kabbalah, it talks about the generation before Moshiach being a reincarnation of the generation that wandered the desert. Since then, the woman refused to take any part in the golden calf, therefore in this generation they merit to affect what they really want (what that is he doesn’t mention, (isn’t there is a movie about it or something) but maybe that’s a hint to us guys to stop assuming we know :) ).

That’s why, he continues, that specifically in this generation we see women in positions of high power, and that many communal matters are specifically led by women. And even those that are led by men, when the husband comes home and his wife hits him on the head (his words, not mine), the next day he leads as his wife directed.

Admittedly I don’t completely understand the next paragraph, but it says something to the effect of “if the accepting of the yoke of heaven of the men isn’t enough, they need to take council with their wives and do as they say”.

And just like the Jews merited to be redeemed from Egypt in the merit of the women, so to from this exile…

///

I really liked seeing this for a few reasons. 

1. The Rebbe was not afraid to look outside of the Jewish world for inspiration to what has to happen within the Jewish world.

2. Well, being that we almost elected a woman from the left, this was very apropos. 

3. It solidified a bit my thoughts on feminism and the woman’s place in Judaism.

“What are those thoughts? Please share!!”

Sheesh, okay, I’m getting there.

Massive backtrack.

In Kabbalah it often talks about the feminine and the masculine.

Chochmah (usually translated as "wisdom" but all of these these are concepts that are not really explained with single word translations) is masculine, binah ("understanding", but again, a concept that is beyond he scope of this post) feminine. Chessed ("kindness") masculine, gevurah ("strictness") feminine. Middos ("emotions") masculine, Malchus ("royalty") feminine. etc.

(Disclaimer: both men and women have all these attributes, just in general the masculine ones are stronger in men and vice versa for women)

In general the masculine is the “giving” and the feminine “receiving”. Hence the masculine urge to “go out and conquer”, and the feminine ability to listen, to actually listen.

And that also explains how, throughout most of history, men were the ones in leadership positions, and often looked down out their female counterparts (as if this was ancient history, I wish).

But Kabbalah also explains how there are two ways of viewing the world, from top down, and in that way we are the lowest world, slaves to our bodily desires, and lost in this world of false perceptions.

Then there is the bottom up view, which is what will be revealed when Moshiach comes, how specifically in this world can the Essence of G-d be revealed. How specifically through sifting through the garbage of this world, and finding the G-dliness hiding everywhere, we slowly make this world into a G-dly place, and home for G-d.

This is done not through accepting what is but taking it all in and making it our own. It’s the process of Binah, the feminine aspect of intellect, that allows us to truly assimilate our knowledge. And Malchus, that last Sefirah, is the most powerful of all. It takes everything in, incubates it, and incorporates and takes it to the next level.

The written Torah (24 books of the TaNaKh) is masculine. It is what it is, and cannot be changed. The Oral Torah (Talmud, Code of Jewish Law, Kabbalah etc.) is feminine, it is how we take the principles of Torah and apply our own intellect to it, creating novel ideas and rulings that never existed. It is us taking part in G-d’s wisdom. And that is the whole point. For us to be a part of this whole creation and world thing. Not to be cold fulfillers of divine commands, but passionate warriors of peace and truth.

A few weeks back in the weekly torah portion we learned about witnesses. Biblically speaking, only men could be witnesses. Which really bothered me. (It still does, questions are good.)

I researched and thought about it a bit, and what I found I loved.

The masculine way (again I use these terms instead of male and female, because we have both elements) is to be unbiased. To see things as they are. They can see something and it is what it is. the feminine is more biased. It assimilates knowledge. It gets involved. It gets angry and sad. It sees what may have prompted such a sight, and the history that has to be taken into account.  That’s not good for testimony. But it’s exactly what G-d wants for this world.

For the world is NOT what it seems.

From both a scientific and a medical perspective the world we see isn’t objective. Quantum mechanics shows that we have a symbiotic relationship with reality, and neurology tells us that the world we see is mostly reconstructions, memories, and mindsets.

Hashem wants us to make his perception ours. He wants us to look at the world the way He does. 

Torah is compared to bread. (Sourdough of course. with a really crunchy crust, and soft warm inside… oh man I’m hungry…) for just like the food we eat becomes our physical body, the Torah we learn becomes our mindset. And this is most evident with the Oral Torah, were ours and the Allmighty’s wisdoms combine. 

It says that Hashem looked into the Torah and created the world,  and through allowing us to be a part of the Torah, we are given the gift of viewing the world as it actually is, an expression of G-d.

I’m rambling but I have a point. I promise! 

This unity of our perceptions and Hashem’s will be complete in the time of redemption. And it’s our journey to that point that makes it happen.

When Moshiach comes it says that “the feminine will surround the masculine”, meaning the talents and aspects of the feminine will  be released to have been greater than that of the masculine, because it’s specifically those attributes that will bring about the redemption, that allow for us to truly assimilate G-dliness within us. 

The Rebbe often said that Moshiach is here, we just have to open our eyes. And that means two things. 

1. We have to realize and acknowledge the good changes that happened and are happening in the world. Instead of constantly kvetching and moaning and basing our view of the world on the media’s and the politicians apocalyptic, profit driven, worldview, we need to be thankful and aware of how the world is changing. And it really is. There are less wars, less poverty, more understanding of “others”. there’s more of an awareness of our impact on this world. Especially as Jews, we have it better than anytime since King Solomon. 

and

2. We have to act as if Moshiach is here. If when Moshiach will come we will all get along, then gosh-darn-it we have to do that now. If we will see G-dliness everywhere, then we have to actively try to do that as well. And if when Moshiach will come, we will finally realize how much women have to offer that men don’t, then gosh-darn-it we have to act like that!!

And this. THIS. Is my point. 

We as Jews (and the world at large) has to stop shoving women into the background. 

Galus (exile) is a man’s world.  Geulah (the redemption) is a women’s world. 

Yes it’s a bit scary as a guy. You know, losing all that (false) superiority, but it’s not a competition. 

I’m not talking about having woman rabbis and the like. Rabbis are overrated anyways. I’m talking about treating women like equals, actual equals. And just like you (a man) will have no problem with a male boss, you should have no problem with a woman one. 

The Rebbe pushed for female leadership, and stressed, so much, how whenever he sent out a couple to wherever, they were EQUALS.

And you know what? The Jewish world shouldn’t be behind the curve with the whole feminism thing. We should be leading the charge.

Down with the patriarchy!!

Seriously.

///

Last year we went to visit New York for Passover. We spent the holiday in Monsey (no photos, as my camera and film was lost/stolen), and then Crown Heights, the amazing oxymoron of idealogical perfection, and the cultural reluctance to allow such change.

I have so much more to say about this all, but I have to stop somewhere :)

Here are some photos of our trip. All with a lovely old Nikon F3, a 28mm, and some expired film. Woohoo!

Chapter One: In which we weigh ourselves at the airport (hooray for small airports!), watch the airplanes ("ours is the one with the wings" said Zusha), cause a huge collective groan when we board the plane, and play hide and seek at the baggage claim.

Chapter Two: In which we stopped by my father father's parent's k'varim, graves. Chanaleh is named after my grandmother Chana, and this happened to be Chanaleh's birthday so it was quite nice. 

Chapter Three: In which we visit Bubby Carlebach, eat yummy food, watch the cars below, and enjoy some wonderful conversation.

Chapter Four: In which we take a bus to the Ohel (the resting place of the Lubavitcher Rebbe), write the customary pan, a letter in which we ask for blessings (the kids drew theirs, notice a baby girl on Chanaleh's :) ), visit the Rebbetzin's kever (grave), then my great-grandmother's (Sarah Schneerson), and then visit the famous 770 Eastern Parkway, the worldwide headquarters for the Chabad-Lubavitch movement (of which we are proudly part of). 

Chapter Five: In which we travel to the Jewish Children's Museum, visit some biblical exhibits, lose our yarmulkahs in a Noah's Ark full of plastic balls, climb a wall, and have a tantrum on the roof.

Chapter Six: In which we walk around, buy Kosher Ice Cream, take the kids on their first Subway ride, and play at a ridiculously crowded playground (because we got off at the wrong stop).

Until next time... Peace and oh, did I mention my wife? She's amazing. (She said she'd edit this post so this is just a test to see if she really looked at the whole thing...)

Lag Ba'Omer Parade - Crown Heights Edition

Recently I’ve been reading “The Jew in the Lotus” (amongst other books). It’s about a Jewish envoy to Tibet to visit and discuss religion and the challenges of keeping it alive with the Dalai Lama. It’s a fascinating read into the reasons why so many Jews gravitate to Buddhism for spiritual enlightenment. That’s a blog post all of its own. One day. I just wanted to focus on one point I read there that resounded very much with me and with our visions for this school that we are starting.

In Judaism there is a concept of purity and impurity. Impurity is generally anything connected with death, as death is the antithesis of G-d who is the source and the epitome of life. So if one comes into contact with a dead person (or even enters a cemetery), he is “impure”. Which is fine, for the most part. Unless one wants to go into the Holy Temple or bring a sacrifice, etc. 

Except for the Kohein, the priest. They are not allowed to become impure, even when not serving. And they must go to pretty intense lengths to stay far away from that. 

Well, as Rodger Kamentz says (the author of this book), Zalman Schachter shared something he heard from Shlomo Carlebach. The holy master, Rabbi Mordechai Joseph, also known as the Ishbitzer Rebbe, explained it as follows:

“When one sees a corpse you can’t help but be angry at G-d. “Why did he have to make it this way? That that’s the door you have to go through? It’s terrible!” Now the Kohen is supposed to be the gentle teacher of people, so if he is angry with G-d, he’ll have a real hard time talking about G-d because what will show will be anger."

Now Shlomo's explanation: "Ever since the holocaust we are all like priests who have become contaminated by death. It’s hard for people who are looking for a loving, living G-d to find him among angry voices. They go to people who at this point don’t have any anger about G-d.”

If we want to teach about a loving G-d, then love the living G-d, and live the loving G-d. 

///

Recently I was in New York for my cousin’s Bar Mitzvah. It was on Lag Ba’omer, the Jewish holiday commemorating the passing of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, a sage mostly known for hiding in a cave for 13 years and writing the most important book on Kabbalah (which is the basis for Chassidus).

Every year in Crown Heights, as per the Rebbe's initiative, they have a children’s parade (though when it falls on Sunday they have the “real one”) to strengthen the excitement about the Torah and Mitzvos (commandments).

I once went as a child. I tried out for the marching band and was utterly rejected. Still hurts. Maybe next time... 

Levi + Perel. In which I photograph my camper's wedding.

I was 16 and quite excited. Y2K had passed without a glitch, I had an extra 22 shekels on my calling card, my first year away from home was wonderful, I had returned alive from making a Pesach seder in some forsaken corner of Southern Ukraine, I was moving up the Montreal summer camp's farm system, and I had just received a phone call on the yeshiva's payphone (that wasn't from my parents. That's a big deal).

A few years back (from then) I experienced my first summer at an overnight camp. It was the camp to go to, Camp Gan Israel Montreal (which was actually located some 2 hours from the city). Being that I was going to be moving to New York with my mom, I was stuck in the "Oholei Torah" bunk (the New York bunk). Basically the wild-crazy kid bunk. And I was anything but. It was definitely an eye opener. 

Anyways, 2 years later I moved up into the "Masmidim" section, where we spent half the day learning, half the day playing. Good times.

Now, 1 year later, at 16 I was going to be one of the youngest on the staff, to be joining the waiter crew. We were to serve food, clean up food, have fun, learn some, and make obscene amounts of money from tips. 

And then I got the phone call. It was from the head counselor, Zalmy Heber. Now this sounds ridiculous, but at that stage of life, everyone waited to find out who the head counselors were going to be at Montreal. It was a golden ticket into the match-making world (that's not the reason we cared, it just shows us how they were considered the cream of the crop).

Conversation went something like this: "Hi is this Zalmy?"

"yup! who in the world is this? you don't sound like my father or brother?"

"It's Zalmy Heber, the head counselor at Montreal."

Heavy breathing, sweaty palms.

"ummmmmmmm..."

"Well, we've had someone back out from being a counselor and we were wondering if you wanted to take his place."

Heavy breathing. sweaty palms.

"Well, are you interested?"

"Yes!! yes yes yes. Ummmm what do I have to do?"

I forget the rest. I ended up having a wonderful summer counseling the youngest bunk. (It's odd how they do that, pair up the youngest staff with the youngest campers... not cool.) I did miss hanging out with my waiter friends, and I was no where near cool enough to hang out with all the older staff, but I did meet some great people with whom I'm still close with, and made way less than my waiter friends.

The point of all this is (what? you ask. there is a point?!) last year I had the pleasure of photographing one of my camper's wedding, and a month or two ago I shot my second one :) and that Zalmy Heber dude was there too.

Enjoy!

///

Thank you SO much to my second shooter Kristin Marie for kicking some serious rear end. 

And this wedding did not end. Seriously, I think I left the ballroom at 2:30 am. People just wouldn't. Stop, Dancing. Which was more than fine with me :)

Gan Izzy. Silver Edition.

I’ve been reading a lot (relative to not reading a lot). Mostly books on education and child rearing, a bit of Roald Dahl, some Calvin & Hobbes, “The Boys of Summer” an amazing book about baseball (but more about life) by Roger Kahn (who seems to be a master of the run-on-sentence, a trait which I respect immensely), and the “Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin” (though I’m unsure about the “the” before that one).

I started that last one because it was free (woohoo Guttenberg.org!), and am still reading it because it’s awesome. And unlike the Lego theme song, I don’t think everything is awesome, but awesome things are.

I just finished Chapter IX “Plan for Attaining Moral Perfection”

Now normally such a title, and probably the ensuing text, would elicit major eye-rolling and much sanctimony.

Not this one. He writes at the end about how he tried curbing his Pride, and, in his words, “I cannot boast of much success in acquiring the reality of this virtue, but I had a good deal with regard to the appearance of it… for, even if I could conceive that I had completely overcome it, I should probably be proud of my humility.”

I imagine his recipe for dialogue should be a prerequisite for all social crusaders.

“I made it a rule to forbear all direct contradiction to the sentiments of others, and all positive assertion of my own. I even forbid myself, agreeably to the old laws of our Junto, the use of every word or expression in the language that imported a fix’d opinion, such as certainly, undoubtedly, etc., and I adopted, instead of them, I conceive, I apprehend, or I imagine a thing to be so or so; or it so appears to me at present. When another asserted something that I thought an error, I deny’d myself the pleasure of contradicting him abruptly, and of showing immediately some absurdity in his proposition; and in answering I began by observing that in certain cases or circumstances his opinion would be right, but in the present case there appear’d or seem’d to me some difference, etc. I soon found the advantage of this change in my manner; the conversations I engag’d in went on more pleasantly. The modest way in which I propos’d my opinions procur’d them a readier reception and less contradiction; I had less mortification when I was found to be in the wrong, and I more easily prevail’d with others to give up their mistakes and join with me when I happened to be in the right.”

I may as well just copy and paste the whole book, so here goes… just kidding! sheesh!

But this one paragraph really spoke to me. He was talking about his once-upon-desire to start a Society called “The Society of the Free and Easy: free, as being, by the general practice and habit of the virtues, free from the dominion of vice; and particularly by the practice of industry and frugality, free from debt, which exposes a man to confinement, and a species of slavery to his creditors.”

And he ends of with (emphasis added): “and I was not discourag’d by the seeming magnitude of the undertaking, as I have always thought that one man of tolerable abilities may work great changes, and accomplish great affairs among mankind, if he first forms a good plan, and, cutting off all amusements or other employments that would divert his attention, makes the execution of that same plan his sole study and business.”

I’m gonna paint that on my wall. Make it my desktop. And if I still had a screensaver I would put it there as well.

We can all do great things, if we just put our minds to it.

///

Last year I had the privilege of documenting the local Gan Israel Day Camp, where both I and my wife we campers and later on counselors (it's part of the largest Jewish network of Summer Camps started by the Lubavitcher Rebbe). It’s a wonderful camp , on a huge campus. We look at these organizations and programs and think “that’s amazing! I could never start something like that.” But we are just selling ourselves short… 

for “one man of tolerable abilities may work great changes”…

May we all work great changes and accomplish great affairs among mankind.
 

So yeah, we're starting a school. And some photos from our 2015

“Hey Zalmy! So like where do you guys live?”

“Aren’t you guys up in Berkeley?”

“What are you doing these days?”

So many good questions that for the most part I had no answer to.

Until now. Behold the glorious now, ever-undulating between the ancient peddle-stones of the past and the hyperbolic vidiums of the future.

Exactly. That’s what people thought I said after I was through mumbling whatever answer I came up with at the time.

Let’s backtrack a bit.

Exactly 633 days ago at 7:03.15 AM we received notice (out of the blue mind you) that our landlord was retiring from the Federal Government and was moving back to sunny Long Beach. We had 90 days to get all 7 of our tushes into some sort of new residence.

At this time we were living on a 1/2 acre property in Long Beach, CA (which is HUGE for the area), and we really loved our house, but we had long realized that Long Beach was but a stop on our journey. Estee and I saw the email from our landlord separately and we had the same exact reaction: “yes!!” This was the kick in the pants we needed to move on with our lives, huge estate notwithstanding.

We had been tentatively looking into the Bay Area for some time (after considering Pittsburgh, Miami, Houston, Seattle, Australia, blah blah blah). It was close enough to family, we really liked the vibe (theoretically, neither of us had spent any real time up there), and we wouldn’t be considered the weirdos for homeschooling and brewing kombucha.

I think at some level we always knew it would be Berkeley, but we wanted to give the rest of the area a fair shake. We did some hefty google and wikipedia work, followed up with some phone calls to some unsavory fellows who are in the know, finalized with a weekend trip (just me) to Berkeley to see if it’s anything like I thought it would be. It wasn’t, not at all. For some reason I thought it would be much more spread out, big houses, big yards. Which doesn’t really make much sense seeing how close it was to San Francisco and how expensive land was. But I loved the vibe, loved all the Jews, and loved the Chabad.

At this point we were planning on continuing my photography business and, on the side, to help out with the local Chabad . We had spoken to the Ferrises before considering moving and they said they would love another Chabad family up there and that they wanted us to help with the Sunday school and Summer camp.

For some reason my wife trusts me too much. So without even setting foot in the place (besides for a quick tour half her life ago) we packed up our house in a truck, put most of it in storage, and made our way up to Berkeley.

We thought we’d find a house to rent or even buy, and, maybe a tad too optimistically, we thought my photography business would pick up enough to pay for the extra cost of living up there (not too mention the fact that I quit my day job before moving).

Meanwhile the Ferrises (in their infinite kindness and maybe a bit of craziness) offered us to stay in their place until we found a place. We moved in and felt right at home, both in their house and in Berkeley. We loved it, the kids loved it, and I’d like to think that many of the locals liked us there as well. We were still homeschooling in our crazy unschooling way, and a few of the younger families loved it.

“Gosh we love what you guys are doing, you should start a school!”

Which is a weird thing to say to passionate homeschoolers, and we thought of it as such as well.

But we heard it quite a few times, still didn’t pay it any attention. Even if we were into school, starting a school isn’t something you do in your off-hours. We wanted to be involved inn communal work, but in a low-key way. At the end of the day we wanted our bills to be paid and to be comfortable. Photography was getting there. Starting and running a school? Not so simple.

Well, turns out real-estate in Berkeley is a bit more challenging than we bargained on. Many landlords are picky about large families, and anything affordable gets snatched up within a day or two, sometimes hours.

We went from looking to buy a house, to looking to rent one, to looking at apartments. Nothing. Nada.

Besides for one house that popped up in the most curious way. But I think we’ll have to leave that for another post.

Anyways, after 5 blissful and exhausting months, we packed up all our stuff (not too much because most was still on that truck), and headed back down to Southern California to my in-laws to regroup. What we thought would be a two week stay turned into a bit over a year (and counting, and Estee's parents have been amazing allowing us to basically take over the house)). A small part of us felt like a failure, but a much larger part felt exhilaration. We had spent years looking for where we wanted to live and raise our family and we had found it. Definitely found it. There are people that never find that and we were, and are, tremendously grateful for that.

Berkeley is pretty famous, and most think they know what is, or what it stands for. I thought I did as well. For a large part of my life I was into politics and pretty darn hardcore conservative. I still am fairly conservative, but cross the line fairly often. Eight years ago I would have laughed if you would have told me that we were to live in Berkeley. I would have been arguing all day. Fast forward a few years and we have more in common with your average Berkeleyite than any city I can think of. Besides maybe Tsfat. 

Just a few things we love about the place.

• For one it’s over 20% Jewish. That’s right. More Jewish than Brooklyn. More Jewish than Miami. 
• The Jewish life there is wonderfully diverse. 
• It has a remarkably well educated populace. 
• People think for themselves. They really do. 
• They are generally much more open to G-d and spirituality than most places I've been to.
• It has amazing parks and resources for homeschoolers.
• It’s close to nature and the city.
• It’s beautiful.
• The architecture is diverse and interesting.
• People care. Maybe sometimes about ridiculous (to me) things, but just the fact that they care, that’s something real.
• I could go on, but I’m not trying to convince anyone to move :) 

A few months after our (temporary) departure from Berkeley we got a phone call from one of the Rabbis there, it went something like this:

“Hey Zalmy! So remember we jokingly talked about starting a school? Some families here have approached me, and well, do you want to start one?”

I fumbled some answer, to the tune of “I’ll talk to Estee, but I doubt it.”

Well as we talked and thought about it over the next few months “I doubt it” turned into “hmmmm maybe” to “this might work” to “heck yes, this is what we were meant to do!”

We spent this time researching, studying, visiting various alternative schools, speaking to people who have started similar schools, and of course, changing diapers.

Meanwhile, ever since we got in our van and packed out of Long Beach, we have been on our own spiritual voyage. It's amazing (and ironic) how often G-d can be missing from the everyday life of a religious Jew. We pray, we learn, but when it comes to day-to-day life, from paying the bills, to taking care of kids, there is often very little talk or thought of G-d. If you'd look someone in the eye and say" I'm not sure where the money will come from but I trust that Hashem will make it happen." or "I need some time to talk to Hashem", they'd roll their eyes and think you're crazy. We often preach about a loving and personal G-d but we choose to live with a punctilious and exotic one.

We felt this the second we got off the plane coming from Israel 9 years back, but the feeling faded and faded. We knew that there was something wrong, but we didn't feel it as much anymore. It's why we had to do something. Once in Berkeley and spending some time with the Ferrises, who are truly one of the most remarkable, kind, loving, thankful, and G-dly people, we started to shift.

Something I recently heard from Tzvi Freeman, is that when the Chazzan (prayer leader) repeats the Amidah, there's a special prayer the congregation says which ends of with the words: "We thank you for letting us give thanks..."

Being grateful for the everyday happenings and miracles is not something we do for Hashem. We do it for ourselves. Working on personalizing the myriads of thanks we give in prayer every day has completely changed the way I approach life. Every morning we thank Hashem for directing our steps. And we mean it. At least now I do. We think we know where we want to be and what we want to do, but sometimes we get so thrown off that path, and if instead of scrambling to get back on the path we stopped to look around, we might find that we are exactly where we are supposed to be.

The first thing we say in the morning is "Modeh Ani", I am thankful. The first words of morning prayers is "Hodu La'Hashem", "Give thanks to Hashem". Closely followed by "bakshu fanav tamid", "Always look for His presence." Actively looking for Hashem in the day to day and the everyday has opened up our eyes to how much He is taking care of us. Things might not be happening on our timetable, but they always happen, and the timing always turns out to be perfect.

Along the way we saw something the Lubavitcher Rebbe said that really spoke to us:

“If G-d gave you these talents you must utilize them all in fulfilling your personal role and mission. This is not your personal matter, which you may treat as you wish. These talents, opportunities… if they are left unused, they are in vain.”

Estee and I are not untalented (no one is) and it would be a darn shame to limit our life to taking photos and fermenting tea. And we want to make a school that allows individuals to be individual, and to change the world as only they could.

So we started a proposal to work through our ideas of what an awesome school would look like, which turned into a website which just went live last week.

http://clberkeley.org

The name of the school is Chanoch LaNa’ar, which comes from a verse in Proverbs, “Educate a child according to his way, so that when he grows old it will not leave him”. We really want to cater to the individual learning types and levels of children, instill a meaningful connection to Hashem, and foster a lifelong love of learning.

If you are at all interested in alternative education please check out our site, you’ll find it fascinating. (And if you have feedback feed it back to us!)

I’ll still be shooting professionally, at least for foreseeable future. But the goal is to do this 100%.

The past two years have been crazy for us. We completely jumped out of our old lives, not knowing what would be. When we left Long Beach we never ever envisioned ourselves where we are today, and while in a way our lives are more up in the air then they have ever been, we know more with what we want to do with our lives than ever before. And we never would have found that out without this journey of ours.

Now we just have to raise some funds and get back to Berkeley. Yeehaw!

///

As a thank you for getting this far, here are a few family photos from 2015. Some from Berkeley, some from SoCal. 

Unplug that Childhood, yo! January edition

In which we played in the leaves, all got sick (with the flu! yuck!), got haircuts, bought a 3/4 guitar and started guitar lessons (online and free of course), bought binoculars (actually Zevi did), went tar-pitting and discovered that it was actually a saber-toothed cat not tiger (I'm still ticked about that, I mean tiger sounds much scarier than cat), went hiking in a legally grey zone, put together a large lego house held together with mud, went birdwatching, and got Zevi's eye's examined, wrote run on sentences, and were too lazy to write something deep and meaningful! Woohoo!

Check out the rest of the unpluggers! childhoodunplugged.com
childhood unplugged instagram here
and my instagram here

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