O pinion
Reflections on Pittsburgh Shooting Two Years Later
BY RABBI JEFFREY MYERS
AS LONG AS WE live we will
never forget the lives of those
we lost on Oct. 27, 2018. We will
never forget who we were with
and what we were doing, how
we responded and what we have
done to honor these beloved
martyrs of our community.

As we commemorate one of
the most significant events of
our lives, we still grieve, we still
remember, we still survive in a
time that continues to challenge
us in ways we never imagined.

Despite these challenges, we
will continue to reach out to
teach each other about hope,
love and community.

Are we better as a nation
two years later? While I cannot
lessen the impact of more than
200,000 COVID-related deaths
in the United States alone, I
have learned that during times
of trauma, people’s authen-
ticity inevitably rises to the
surface. If you are innately a
good person, you will find ways
to utilize your goodness to help
better the lives of others.

In the days and weeks
following the Oct. 27 attack
that killed 11 worshippers from
three congregations, strangers
from across the globe offered
condolences, prayers, encour-
agement and even lengthy,
hand-written letters pouring
out their tears. As we approach
the second year commemora-
tion, good people once again
reach out, offering continued
support, reminding us that
they have not forgotten.

I still believe that deep
down the vast majority of
humanity is comprised of good
people. They reject all forms of
“H” (that word is eliminated
from my vocabulary), bigotry,
racism, and the all too frequent
violent acts that often accom-
pany these words. Perhaps
during periods of great stress,
who we really are is seen in full
view, stripped of all pretense
and protective gear. Studies
have shown that during great
stressors throughout history,
anti-Semitism rises.

When coupled with so much
else occurring in America at
this time, some might suggest
that it’s no surprise that the
proverbial pot is boiling over.

Social unrest. Pandemic.

Political upheaval. Economic
stress. Serious divisiveness. All
at once we find ourselves coping
with these entrenched daily
travails on top of the indelible
mark that Oct. 27 left on each
of us. Despite it all, we remain
resilient and resolute in moving
forward with our lives, with
plans to rebuild our synagogue
as well as our dreams.

There are plenty of helpers
out there and we should look
to them, in a reference to the
famous advice Mister Rogers’
mother gave him as a child when
things were upsetting. We, too,
must be helpers because they
need our support to swing the
perceived pendulum in the
opposite direction.

It can seem overwhelming
to simultaneously take down
the bad and build up the good,
but the old adage that “if you
sit on the fence and watch you
will get splinters” applies. We
need to disassemble the fences
that separate us and use the
wood to instead build bridges.

We are all more alike than we
recognize, and too frequently
we allow the differences to
define us. We must use our
commonalities to unite us in
the goal of making this experi-
ment of a mixing pot called the
United States successful.

The silent majority of good,
decent people have been silent
for too long. When will the
day come that they rise up, and
state with moral clarity, that
words of “H,” bigotry, racism
and the violence that they
inevitably lead to are unwel-
come, and do not belong in our
society? Where are the Hebrew
Bible prophets reminding us of
our responsibilities to protect
the orphan, the widow and the
stranger? It is “we, the people”
who are being tested to extreme
limits. Will we pass the test?
Each of us can try harder.

Do more. Do better. Only the
passage of time will show if
our collective resolve and hard
work creates a unity that truly
honors those we loved and lost.

On a personal note, I remain
humbled and grateful to still
be here among congregants,
family, friends and commu-
nity members who share that
place, time and memory of
something so profound that
happened to us all and changed
us in the process. May their
memories be a blessing to us
forever. l
Rabbi Jeffrey Myers is the rabbi
of Tree of Life*Or L’Simcha in
Pittsburgh. New York Needs to Make its COVID Crackdown Standards Clearer
MICHAEL A. HELFAND | JTA
FOR SO MANY American
Jews, the recent clashes
between Gov. Cuomo and the
New York ultra-Orthodox
Jewish community over
new COVID-19 restrictions
(and protests of them) are
nothing short of a dangerous
embarrassment. It is thus unsurprising that
the broader Jewish public
18 OCTOBER 22, 2020
largely viewed the raging and
rioting against new restrictions
as undermining collective
Jewish values and credibility in
deeply corrosive ways. But the
disparate impact of these new
restrictions on ultra-Orthodox
communities — combined
with Gov. Cuomo and Mayor
De Blasio’s repeated references
to noncompliance within those
communities — has provoked
both growing distrust of
the state and, in turn, legal
challenge to its new regulations.

The impacted communities see
these new public health orders
as unfairly targeting Jews
and thereby suppressing their
religious freedom.

The strategy to address both
the growing trust deficit and
the ongoing legal challenges
is the same. The state must
be far more transparent and
clear in how it uses numbers
and not politics to identify
which neighborhoods are
being subjected to increased
regulation. Round one of legal
challenges to the new restric-
tions began last week, when
the Agudath Israel filed a
federal lawsuit, attempting to
stave off synagogue closures
in advance of the impending
Jewish holidays. The lawsuit,
thus far, has not garnered
much sympathy. Indeed, Judge
Matsumoto, in rejecting the
claims of religious discrimina-
tion alleged by Agudath Israel,
concluded unequivocally
that the “balance of equities
and the public interest weigh
strongly in favor of New York’s
mission to protect its citizens
from this global pandemic
which continues to be of great
JEWISH EXPONENT
concern.” The stakes, according
to the judge, were simply too
great to afford any leeway to
houses of worship.

Although the case is still
ongoing, the fanfare has largely
subsided. Maybe this is as it
should be: In the wake of the
federal court’s ruling, Jewish
leaders have focused efforts
on educating and rebuking
the impacted communities,
reiterating the importance of
compliance with health and
safety guidelines.

But like many legal cases,
examining the details matters.

Cuomo’s executive order —
the so-called “Cluster Action
Initiative” — seeks to address
“hot spots” by identifying areas
where there has been an uptick
in COVID-19 cases and then
imposing greater restrictions
to stem the spread of the virus.

The majority of these hot
spots encompass predomi-
nantly ultra-Orthodox Jewish
communities — and imposing
restrictions on those commu-
nities based upon scientific
metrics is certainly not
anti-Semitic. Indeed, the state
has clearly communicated its
commitment that decisions
must employ a “science-based
approach ... to stop any further
spread of the virus.”
But while the principle
is sound, criticism — and
legal challenge — has almost
exclusively been based on
the manner in which Cuomo
identified the hot spots.

In an opinion denying the
Brooklyn diocese constitutional
challenge to the new restric-
tions, federal judge Eric Komtee
See Helfand, Page 20
JEWISHEXPONENT.COM



O pinion
My Mother Was Not a Number. Let’s Honor Her.

BY JONATHAN KAGAN
ON SEPT. 18, my mother,
Bebe Kagan, just two days shy
of her 95th birthday, died of
COVID-19 disease in an Iowa
nursing home. Like many in her
age group, Mom was a first-gen-
eration American. Her parents
were immigrants from Ukraine
and Moldova, who came to this
country to escape persecution
and seek opportunity.

Growing up in Bridgeport,
Connecticut, Mom studied
hard in public school and was
one of the first in her family
to attend college. At age 19,
she got cancer, and though
cautioned against marriage, she
married my dad and together
they raised and educated
seven children.

At 48, Mom’s cancer
returned, this time necessi-
tating amputation of her right
leg. With three children still
at home, she carried on as a
homemaker, doing laundry,
making dinner, reviewing
homework and driving with
her left foot.

My father died in 1994,
and Mom continued to live a
vibrant life in Florida until July
of this year, when she relocated
to Des Moines to live close to
my sister. Just two months after
her arrival, Mom was infected
with the SARS-CoV-2 virus by
a nursing home staff member. A
week later she was hospitalized,
and five days later, she died.

The women in my mom’s
family have a history of
longevity, many living far into
their 90s and a few past 100.

Mom herself had no signs of
imminent health risk. There is
no doubt that COVID-19 killed
her. And there’s every reason to
believe that had Iowa enacted,
supported and enforced safer
public health measures, Mom’s
risk of infection would have
been reduced and she’d likely
be alive today.

The record of public health
decision-making during the
pandemic in our country is
well-documented, and while
some leaders and jurisdictions
have acted boldly and with
prudence, many balked at
stay-at-home orders, did not
issue face mask mandates
(despite evidence that masks
work), and shunned social
distancing recommendations,
opening bars and restaurants
which have repeatedly led
to surges in COVID-19 case
numbers and deaths.

The Talmud, the book of
Jewish law, says that whoever
saves one life, saves the entire
world, and makes the point that
one person can make a difference.

For society to continue, selfless-
ness and kindness must exist.

It is surely understandable
that some view mask wearing as
an unwelcome inconvenience
because it can be. Not being
able to gather with friends and
family, fellow congregants and
co-workers, in groups, as we
used to, is a real loss for many
of us. And, if there is just one
thing that most Americans
still have left in common these
days, it’s that we hate having
people telling us what to do (or
shaming us for not doing).

But let’s not forget that we
also have another thing in
common — a very good and
important thing: We accept
some responsibility for one
another’s safety. For instance,
even though we might arrive
at our destination sooner, we
haven’t decided that stopping
at a red light is an infringement
on our liberties. We recognize
that for all of us to be safe
on the road, we each have to
adhere to some rules.

In that same way, if each of
us could think of and follow
the proven COVID-19 safety
practices (i.e., mask wearing,
social distancing and hand
washing), just like we stop
for red lights, we could go a
long way toward protecting
both ourselves and others
from sickness and death from
COVID-19. While several of our elected
officials — with whom we may
agree on many policy issues
— have not exemplified the
public health practices that we
know save lives, we don’t have
to defend or copy their unsafe
behaviors. We can think for
ourselves and separate our
politics from our concepts of
social responsibility in civil
society. And in so doing, we
can feel good knowing that
we’re acting in accordance
with our values, doing right by
others and ourselves.

Bebe Kagan, a resilient and
strong woman who had more life
left in her, died alone in an Iowa
nursing home. My mom was
not a number, and neither were
the other more than 210,000
American victims of COVID-19
to those who loved them. At the
very least, we can honor and give
sanctity to their lives by together
doing all we can to prevent more
sickness and death during this
pandemic. Speaking for all of
us who have been left behind to
mourn, please consider your part
in sparing any more families the
pain and sorrow we endure. l
Jonathan Kagan lives in Potomac,
Maryland. I Thought Anti-Semitism Was a Problem of the Past.

Then I Became Jewish.

BY KYLIE ORA LOBELL | JTA
IT WASN’T UNTIL I started
converting to Judaism that I
realized that anti-Semitism is
very much alive and well —
and it’s only getting worse.

Last year saw the most
anti-Semitic incidents in
JEWISHEXPONENT.COM 40 years, according to the
Anti-Defamation League. While
the numbers aren’t yet in for
2020, there have been anti-
Semitic events every month of
the year so far.

And yet, when I talk to my
family about anti-Semitism
and why I don’t feel safe here in
America anymore, they don’t
quite understand.

I don’t expect them to,
either. If you have never been
discriminated against for your
identity, then you simply can’t
comprehend how it could
happen to others, either. You
don’t know how scary and
powerless you feel when people
say they hate you.

Growing up in a white
home in a predominantly white
neighborhood in Baltimore,
I never once faced racism or
any form of discrimination.

My family and I pretty much
looked like everyone else. We
could blend in and there were no
differences between the people
in our community and us.

On the other hand, in high
school, when my mom moved
us to Pikesville, a predominantly
Orthodox Jewish neighbor-
hood, I noticed that they
looked different from us right
away. Mostly, I’d see them on
Saturdays, wearing all black and
pushing baby strollers. The only
thoughts that crossed my mind
were, “Wow, Jewish people walk
a lot,” and “They must be really
hot in that dark clothing.”
Unlike my mom and I, they
JEWISH EXPONENT
couldn’t hide who they were.

Today, I’m one of those Jews
walking on Shabbat around
my neighborhood, which is a
little frightening nowadays.

But the few times when I have
experienced real anti-Semitism,
ironically, have occurred when
I wasn’t easily identifiable as an
Orthodox Jew. Like the time my
landlord told me her father used
to “Jew people down,” or when
my Uber driver said Jews control
the world and like to make
little children into matzah ball
soup (really!). The topic came
up because we were driving
through a predominantly
Orthodox Jewish neighborhood
in Los Angeles and he spotted
some haredi Jews.

The first incident was
offensive, and the latter was
horrifying. I shared these
See Lobell, Page 20
STATEMENT FROM THE PUBLISHER
We are a diverse community. The views expressed in the signed opinion columns and let-
ters to the editor published in the Jewish Exponent are those of the authors. They do
not necessarily reflect the views of the officers and boards of the Jewish Publishing
Group, the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia or the Jewish Exponent. Send
letters to letters@jewishexponent.com or fax to 215-569-3389. Letters should be a
maximum of 200 words and may be edited for clarity and brevity. Unsigned letters will not be
published. OCTOBER 22, 2020
19