O pinion
The Holiness of Returning to Summer Camp
BY EVA GROSSMAN
I AM A CAMP PERSON
through and through. Camp has
always been my happy place. For
a long time, it was the only place
I felt genuinely Jewish.

I grew up being the only Jew
most people in my hometown
knew and switched synagogues
several times. I never felt attached
to any Jewish community during
the year, so my one month at
camp had to provide all of my
connection for the year. To steal
from an Instagram caption I
wrote after my last summer as
a camper: “If you aren’t a camp
person and you’re wondering
why I always talk about camp,
here’s why: The people that
will always be there for me are
those I’ve met at camp.”
Camp shaped me, as it
allowed me to be wholeheart-
edly Jewish and explore hobbies
I would never get to at home.

Daily services were annoying
as a kid, but I also learned every
Shacharit (morning service)
prayer through experience
rather than tedious studying.

I learned every Lecha Dodi
tune from weekly camp-wide
Kabbalat Shabbat services. I got
to learn how to make earrings
in jewelry, paint with water-
color in art and bake challah
in cooking. I even got out of my
comfort zone and climbed the
ropes course every year.

I always connected more
with people at camp than
school because I felt like they
just got it. Many of them could
relate to being one of few people
with their traditions in their
school. Camp gives opportu-
nities for structured learning
and activities and free time.

Living together capitalizes on
the in-between moments and
unstructured time that school
doesn’t really have.

So naturally, when the time
came, I transitioned pretty
seamlessly from camper to
staff. I had always known that I
wanted to work at camp, so the
decision to apply was easy.

And then last summer
happened. Due to the
pandemic, camp had to move
from in-person to virtual.

During a summer of mourning
and loss, camp was still able
to provide some distraction
from the real world, albeit in
a much different way. We ran
two weeks of online program-
ming including teaching edah
(units divided by grade) songs,
bunk bonding activities and
maccabiah (color war). Every
summer, counselors would
remind campers that camp is
not a physical space, but rather,
it’s a mindset. They were right,
but something was missing.

Knowing that I will be back
at camp this summer is the
only thing that got me through
the semester. I took the hardest
classes I have since starting
college, dealt with my parents’
divorce and moved across the
country after a semester at home.

I’ve been incredibly lucky to
get through a global pandemic
without losing anyone I know
personally. Even so, a huge part
of my life has been missing.

In a normal year, camp is
the most abnormal part of my
life. But this year, camp will
mark a much-needed return to
normalcy. Calls with my camp
planning for this summer are
the only Zoom calls I don’t
dread anymore. Filling out
tedious forms doesn’t feel like
a chore, it feels like a reward for
the year we’ve been through.

I only lost a year of camp as
a staffer. I feel immensely for
my kids who lost a whole year of
being campers, and the connec-
tion and kehilla that comes with
it. My childhood is intertwined
with camp, and I would not have
come to love camp as a young
adult, had I not been able to
go as a child. I would not have
come to love and want to explore
Judaism in the same way.

Of course, the pandemic has
changed how camp will operate
this summer. All staff members
are required to be fully vacci-
nated before first session starts.

Everyone will be getting tested
often, and camp will operate as a
bubble. Within the bubble, we’ll
have pods, and maybe by the
end of the session we’ll be able to
come together as larger groups.

But even though we’ll be in
pods, wearing masks and getting
COVID tests often, we’ll be back
at camp. We won’t feel the same
isolation we’ve felt over the past
year. Instead we’ll be within our
community surrounded by
those we love. The optimism
of this summer is incredible
compared to the despair of last.

Camp gave me my best
friends, college roommate
and love for Judaism. I would
not be the person I am today
without it. In geography, we
discuss the concepts of space
and place. While space is just a
matter of measurements, place
is a matter of meaning. People
ascribe meaning to spaces,
making them important places.

Going back to that place always
feels like returning somewhere
holy, and I can only hope that
this summer will be the same. l
Eva Grossman is a rising junior at
George Washington University,
majoring in geography.

When it Comes to Anti-Israel Attacks on Jews, it’s Time to
Name the Enemy
BY GIL TROY
THE COVID-19 EPIDEMIC
proves you cannot just treat
a plague’s symptoms —
you must root it out. Yet as
incidents of Jew-bullying in
the U.S. more than doubled
in May compared to the same
time period in 2020, too many
American Jews complained
14 JUNE 24, 2021
about the symptoms while
obscuring the cause. In a
polarized polity, too many in
the overwhelmingly liberal
American-Jewish commu-
nity either ignore or cover up
left-wing complicity in the
New Antisemitism, meaning
anti-Zionist Jew-hatred.

C a l l it Z io -w a s h i ng :
bleaching the anti-Zionism out
of modern antisemitism.

Consider t he Jew ish
T h e o l o g i c a l S e m i n a r y ’s
“Statement on Antisemitic
Crimes” condemning this
“spate of brutal acts,” issued
during last month’s military
conflict between Israel and
Hamas. JTS lamented this
“latest manifestation” of the
“centuries-long phenomenon”
of Jew-hatred. And it claimed
that “What is happening to
Jews in North America shares
much with other hate crimes
perpetrated in our society.”
But something’s missing:
The statement
ignored Israel, Zionism and the New
Antisemitism. The antisemitic attacks
and rhetoric during the latest
conflict was largely fueled by
the anti-Zionist left’s sweeping
denunciations of Israel and
Zionism. Wrapping their cause
in Black Lives Matters rhetoric
and righteousness, pro-Pales-
tinian and pro-Islamist goons
have committed many of the
most recent anti-Jewish street
crimes. Claiming that the Jew-
bashing “shares much with
other hate crimes perpetrated
JEWISH EXPONENT
in our society,” the JTS state-
ment masks this far-left
anti-Zionist hooliganism with
a phrase that usually points to
haters on the right.

President Joe Biden’s May
28 statement also Zio-washed.

He condemned this myste-
rious, coming-from-nowhere
Jew-hating surge “in the last
weeks.” Biden mentioned
six incidents, from “a brick
thrown through the window
of a Jewish-owned business
in Manhattan” to “families
threatened outside a restau-
rant in Los Angeles,” without
mentioning Israel, Zionism or
pro-Palestinian thuggery.

Not naming the distinctly
left-wing roots of this hatred
suggests that those doing the
condemning do not want to
alienate supposed allies.

Liberals were much more
eager to name antisemi-
tism’s perpetrators when they
emerged from the Trumpian
right or from the white suprem-
acists that attached themselves
to his agenda. Similarly,
conservatives only see antisem-
itism when it comes out of the
campus or anti-Israel left —
to the delight of Jew-haters
everywhere. Yes, antisemitism
is “the latest manifestation of
a centuries-long phenomenon
of hatred and violence against
Jews,” as JTS put it. But the
“longest hatred” is also the
most plastic hatred — pliable,
artificial and occasionally
lethal. No one should fall for
See Troy, Page 23
JEWISHEXPONENT.COM