Nike Shoes

 The front page of today's Washington Post has a picture of a little girl carrying a Nike shoe box out of the rubble of the mobile home that had been her home. Terrible tornadoes ripped through rural southwestern Mississippi, affecting mostly black residents who live below the poverty line. What struck me was the shoe box. 

How often do we buy shoes and open the box at home? The Nike logo is ubiquitous in our lives. But the juxtaposition of a little girl carrying the box as she climbed out of rubble, as bizarre as it seems, was not shocking. We view these images daily. Scientists do not know the relationship between severe tornadoes and climate change. All I know from my lay standpoint is that wind has increased in intensity in recent years. Regardless of any correlation between climate change and tornadoes, we will experience more weather related tragedies and strange occurrences, for example the rain that never stops in California. 

People tend to be oblivious to what goes on around them--be it weather, safety/general awareness, political upheaval. Granted we suffer from bad news fatigue, worn down with earthquakes, fires, floods, dictators, and wars. I am guilty. But, I do not tune out completely. I focus on my immediate environment and the world as best I can. No one is perfect or Mother Theresa (except for her).

 I often ignore homeless people or those begging on traffic islands. I get tired of emails, requests for donations, and legislative reports from local politicians. I am blessed or cursed. I wake up easily and often-- in a metaphoric sense--noticing something that does not seem right--a noice, smell, or person. For example, what is happening in a section of Bethesda, Maryland.

Today, I tried to visit a neighborhood with beautiful cherry blossoms, our beloved delicately flowering trees that show their impermanent beauty for a week at the most. No go--the residents have banned cars which is fine. But massive construction of an unnecessary new shopping area has caused adjacent streets to be blocked off. Thereby making a pleasant Sunday afternoon spring tradition no longer possible. So an affluent neighborhood has decided to be exclusive and unwelcoming. But worse, the rebuilding of a small strip mall in a typical inside-the-beltway community of our county is turning into I-Don't-Know-What. 

Sacred land for our African American neighbors is being built over and desecrated. It was bad enough when a parking lot was placed over the burial grounds of former slaves, but now there will be more and bigger shops, offices, and apartments. 

There is one tiny parcel of land being contested. So far, the county has not seen fit to save that small section for a memorial site. Across the street from the construction site is an adequate, modern shopping area--once a thriving black residential subdivision. Therefore, there is no need to expand the other area.  

Greed is next to impossible to fight even in liberal Montgomery County, Maryland. So I continue to write letters and sign petitions. Stay vigilant. And hope the little girl and her family in Mississippi get a better house. 

©Karen Levi 2023

LIGHT, JOY, WOMEN--IT MUST BE MARCH OR ADAR

 Previously, I gave little thought to Purim. I remember carnivals in the synagogue social hall as a child--groggers, hats, games, prizes. Purim served as a bright spot after the dark months of Tevet and Shevat. Sweet treats and fun foretold of more joy to come. After early childhood, I ignored Purim, except for the Hamentaschen.

When I joined a congregation in the "oughts," I was introduced to the Purim Spiel. First, I thought, that's dumb, and the Yiddish word deterred, being the daughter of a former Berliner who shunned the colorful, useful language (that I have come to appreciate). 

People said, "come, come, it's so fun." I thought, "What, I have no talent?" I had joined the choir because of a lifelong wish to be immersed in song. I was "good enough," could read music, and knew when to sing quietly. An extroverted member of the choir--who was the Spiel director--encouraged me as well. She remarked that "no talent" was exactly the ticket to join the play's cast.

So to rehearsal I went. And thus began about ten seasons of great fun. The small, liberal congregation had been producing plays for about 5-10 years before I joined in the hilarity. Our director--the demonstrative, very talented choir member--had the ability to take a ragtag bunch of "older" Jews and turn us into a somewhat polished group. I remember her saying, "I hate blocking night. I'm herding cats." We were silly and made jokes about nearly everything we could find as fodder. My favorite spiel was "Schmaltz" (Grease) in which I had a solid role.

The productions were sealed into the annals of congregation history. Our rabbi was an actor in his own right. He could act in any comic role, and he sang in a strong, tenor voice. Naturally, our plays were the story of Esther, Mordechai, and Haman set to rock, popular, or Broadway tunes.

 The era of the plays are over, as all good things must come to an end. There was a chemistry and bonding in the cast that cannot be reproduced. So I am back to a less exciting but still happy Purim, the beginning of more light, warmth, and hope. 

Below is a short essay I wrote about Adar and Purim for those who are interested:
     

    Adar is the twelfth month of the Jewish calendar which can be quite confusing since we         find ourselves neither in December nor at the Jewish New Year. When there is a leap             year, there are two Adars. Adar relates to the Hebrew word, Adir, which means strength.     The month is associated with good fortune and joy. Adar corresponds to the zodiac sign of     Pisces, two unidentified fish in the depths of the sea. Like Esther, who revealed herself as     a Jew after being masked or hidden.

    Purim falls on the 14th day of Adar, a holiday for joyful celebration and the only one            which focuse on brave women. We are familiar with the Megillah and the story of Esther     and Mordechai saving the Jews from certain death. The Megillah, or the Book of Esther,        is one of two ancient books named for women. 

    Spiritually and physically, the month represents the shift from darkness to light. We see        the transformation in the increase of daylight hours and in a new month filled with               joy after several months of darkness. The Purim story deals with a shift from death to            life. 

    After Haman and his henchmen were defeated, Esther went to the king and said, “Do            tomorrow what you have done today.” The king was confused--Haman, his ten sons, and     various other evildoers had been hanged. Why does Esther ask for what has been done?        Scholars have found the Hebrew letters, also representing the numbers 5707, within the        Book of Esther. And what is significant about 5707? The Jewish year corresponds to            1946, when 10 Nazis hanged after trials at Nuremberg. So, was Queen Esther asking            for retribution for crimes that had not been yet committed? Curious.
    

    Tradition has us decking out in a guise or mask for Purim. The Ba’al Shem Tov                    said, “It is a mitzvah to dress up for Purim.” Now why would a pious rabbi suggest a            frivolity like costumes? The ancient rabbis instituted the custom of giving                              Tzedakah to the poor on Purim. If everyone masquerades, one cannot discern who is             giving and who receiving. Therefore, in complete anonymity, one offers and accepts,            the truest form of mitzvah.

    

    Back to joy, which is forever in short supply. Toast with your libation of choice to Health     and Happiness as my parents and grandmothers would say. And drown out the evil of the     Hamans with your groggers.

©Karen Levi 2023