It Is a Tree of Life
Review of 'Squirrel Hill' by Mark OppenheimerEmily Schrader: Expo 2020 is a stunning example of tolerance
SQUIRREL HILL is a book for Jews (and Gentiles) everywhere, but it is particularly a book for those of us who grew up Jewish in Pittsburgh. (The house where I grew up is a 15-minute walk from Tree of Life, although we were members of the larger Reform synagogue, Temple Sinai.) Fellow residents, both former and current, will recognize many of the places and names; at one point in the book I paused, read aloud a passage Oppenheimer transcribed from a Jewish journalist’s recounting of her work with the city’s liberal Chevra Kadisha, and then told my wife that I had had a crush on said writer for most of elementary school.
In that regard, Squirrel Hill showed me how unusual the neighborhood was as a place to grow up. Being raised Jewish in Pittsburgh is a bit like how Oppenheimer’s podcast co-host Liel Leibovitz recently described being Jewish in Israel: “You are Jewish by osmosis. You just open the window and breathe in a lot of Jew.” It offers what Oppenheimer describes as “an idyllic Jewish life in a modern urban shtetl”—so if the dream of being fully Jewish and fully American is possible anywhere, it’s there.
But it is all too easy—in Squirrel Hill, and in modern liberal Jewish life—for Jewish identity to stop being a choice, for it to become something that happens to us but to which we do not contribute. I grew up unselfconsciously Jewish because of the environment in which I lived. It was only after I left Squirrel Hill (and after I fell in love with a non-Jewish woman and spent years watching her work on conversion for her and our son) that I began to understand that for most American Jews, being Jewish is not something you “breathe in”—it’s something you choose, or don’t choose, every day.
The choice to be willfully, deliberately Jewish always means accepting the risks that go with it—of anti-Semitism that can be subtle and, in its violent expressions, unsubtle. A place like Squirrel Hill hints at a world in which being Jewish is easy and free from fear, but the Tree of Life shooting shows that even there it is not.
That’s why the best stories in Squirrel Hill are those of people who, face-to-face with the scourge of anti-Semitism, chose to become more Jewish, rather than less. There’s Lynn Hyde, married to a Jewish man but who had always stopped short of converting—until she realized that if the shooter had entered the synagogue where she and her husband were praying, he wouldn’t have bothered to ask if she wasn’t Jewish before shooting her. Or Robert Zacharias, the computer artist who responded to the shooting by starting to wear a kippah everywhere he goes and grappling with all the discomfort that being publicly and visibly Jewish brings. Even Ron Symons, the Reform rabbi who walked with his Orthodox brothers during the funeral procession, captures this: In mourning another Jew, we are all Jewish together.
These stories and others are the closest thing Squirrel Hill offers as an answer to the question it poses. To be Jewish has always meant to be Jewish after tragedy—after the fall of the Temple, after the exile, after the Holocaust—and therefore through overcoming it. That choice to overcome, to be Jewish over and against the desires of violent anti-Semites, is the way Jews continue to preserve and build places like Squirrel Hill.
Interestingly, absent from Israel’s pavilion was any mention of its history or any political messaging whatsoever. In fact, Israel didn’t even display a map. Sadly, the same cannot be said for the Palestinian pavilion. While also a beautiful display of culture, their displays were highly politicized in a way that seemed out of place: from heavy Jerusalem imagery throughout the exhibit to maps displaying the entirety of Israel as Palestine.Pop icon Justin Bieber announces 2022 concert in Tel Aviv
They also had a coloring activity to color the map of Palestine and an interactive map of Israel, which they labeled Palestine, urging visitors to mark off where they are from on the map. Finally, their pavilion prominently featured sweeping nature shots of “Palestinian” cities today, including Acre, Haifa, Nazareth and Masada. The problem with this is, of course, that they aren’t Palestinian cities at all; they are Israeli and they are even within the 1967 borders.
While the rest of the participating countries, even enemy states, presented a forward-facing, apolitical perspective of their countries, the Palestinian pavilion used the expo, a symbol of tolerance and acceptance, to once again push political messaging and look backward instead of forward. The contrasting narratives were blatant and once again demonstrated that instead of progressing toward a brighter future for all the region and the Palestinian people, the Palestinian leaders are hell-bent on missing every opportunity they can.
Meanwhile, the UAE leads the way for the entire Arab world presenting a path forward for peace and collaboration instead of war. Of course, this doesn’t mean agreement on every political issue, but it does mean an open line of communication and understanding to create a better world.
I would be remiss not to note the striking similarities between the vision of the UAE’s leaders and the State of Israel. Both nations are states that developed something stunning out of virtually nothing. Both nations massively developed only in the last decades, and both nations continue to expand and improve the world through technology, business, innovation and yes, peace.
It is only natural then, that the UAE and Israel, both nations of dreamers, continue setting an example for the region and the world of what the future can be.
Justin Bieber is coming to Israel, planning to perform October 13, 2022, in Tel Aviv’s Ganei Yehoshua, as part of his Justice World Tour.
The Canadian pop singer, discovered when he was just 13 (he’s now 27), has concerts planned in five continents through March 2023, kicking off the tour in North America. The new dates were announced Monday, with more shows to be announced for Asia and the Middle East.
Bieber hasn’t toured like this since 2016. The pandemic sidelined his previously announced 2020 concert dates.
The tour begins in 2022 in North America, kicking off in San Diego on February 18, moving to Mexico in May before heading to Scandinavia, South America, South Africa and the Middle East in September and October, followed by Australia and New Zealand in November and December and the UK and Europe in early 2023.
“We worked hard on this tour and created the best event we’ve ever done,” said Bieber in a statement. “I can’t wait to share it with fans around the world. I’ll see you soon.”