Editor's Notebook
Community Views
It's Time To Say Yes To
High School Reunions
So Much To See,
So Little Time
RABBI AMY BRODSKY SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH NEWS
GAIL ZIMMERMAN ASSISTANT EDITOR
When the invita-
tion to my high
school reunion —
Oak Park High,
Class of 1966 —
came in the mail,
I put it in the
cupboard. Some-
how, I wasn't
quite ready to
toss it in the garbage. I'd skipped
my 10th reunion, but gave the
20th a try. We were still in our
30s then and spent the evening
comparing where our post-high
school lives had taken us. I
wasn't sure I wanted to attend
another such gathering. But my
son's recent high school gradua-
tion, exactly 30 years after my
own, was making me feel at least
a bit nostalgic.
After high school, I lost touch
with most of my high school
friends. We went on to college or
work, some of us married and
had children, we developed busy
careers, moved away and just
lost touch.
Occasionally, I'd run into
someone from my high school
days, and the connection would
be reestablished. One of the best
things about working at The
Jewish News has been renewing
my friendship with our local
columnist and Style editor Car-
•
•
•
PHOTOS BY CARLA SCHWARTZ
▪
la (Eisenberg) Schwartz, whom
I've known since second grade.
My children have brought me
together with other classmates,
in carpools and on school com-
mittees. I've spent weeks at U-
M's alumni family camp with the
people I grew up with and said
hello to old friends at bar mitz-
vah parties. But I'd happily put
high school behind me.
Finally, it was the insistence
of my twin sister, Karen Cohen,
that made me send in the reply
card. The Dorfman twins didn't
socialize together much during
high school, but things have
changed. "You have to go with
me," she said. So I did.
And now, dear readers, I can
tell you why you, too, should go
to your high school reunion.
Get over it. No one is judging
you anymore.
It seems that for most of us,
seeing the people we attended
high school with is an intimi-
dating experience. Maybe it's be-
cause we're afraid we'll still be
seen by our classmates as we
saw ourselves in high school,
with all our imperfections mag-
nified, all our insecurities re-
vealed.
Believe me, after 30 years, no
one cares where you live, or how
much money you have, how
Ed Gutman, Tina Fiorani and Rabbi Jim Goodman
many wrinkles you've acquired
or how much hair you've lost.
We're all a little bit wiser now,
and we've learned to accept our-
selves and each other, too. To-
day, we're just happy, even
thrilled, to see one another.
You'll have someone to talk to
in line at the bank, the post office,
the grocery store.
You may not realize it, but
you've actually been seeing the
people you graduated with all
along. You just don't recognize
most of them. At our reunion, we
made what I'll call chest contact.
That's where our name tags
(with very large print, of course)
were plastered. As realization
dawned, hugs and kisses quick-
ly ensued.
A few days after the reunion,
my sister called me. "You'll nev-
er guess whom I saw at the post
office," she said. "Dennis King!
If I hadn't gone to the reunion, I
never would have known I was
standing next to him!"
You'll have something to talk
about with those friends you do
keep in contact with (not in any
sort of judgmental way, of
course).
Did you know that Jimmy
Goodman not only became a rab-
bi, but is married to one? That
Marty Goldstein is in Hollywood
producing sitcoms?
That Ann Fishman
is on a first-name
basis with Bill Clin-
ton (she planned
his post-debate par-
ties)?
You'll spend an
evening reminiscing
about experiences
only your childhood
friends can truly
appreciate.
From Boston to
California, from
Minnesota to Texas,
a slew of former Oak
Parkers joined those
of us still living in
Michigan at the
Parthenon House
banquet hall. The
fact that the Class of
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Eight years.
Eight long
years. Too long.
Far too long.
Two weeks.
Two busy, jam-
packed weeks.
Too short. Much
too short.
It had been
eight years
since I was last in Israel and my
recent two-week trip wasn't
enough. Not enough time to see
all that I wanted to see. Not
enough time to experience all
that there is to experience.
It has been noted many times
recently that Israel has
changed. Some say it's been
"Americanized." McDonald's,
Hard Rock Cafe, Planet Holly-
wood, Pizza Hut, Toys 'R Us.
None of these were seen when I
lived in Jerusalem eight years
ago as a first-year rabbinic stu-
dent.
Yes, things have changed, but
much has remained the same.
The same historic places, the
same archaeological sites (some
even further excavated than
previously), the same historic
synagogues and churches. Tour-
ing Israel — north to south, east
to west, the "Dead, Med and
Red" seas (as our guide called
them), the Galilee and the Ara-
va — always left me wishing for
more. More time to spend tour-
ing the synagogues and the
artists' colony of Safed, more
hours to walk the streets of
Jerusalem, drinking in the fla-
vors of Ben Yehudah Street and
the Old City's Jewish Quarter.
city, Jerusalem, I couldn't help
but think of an article published
in The Jewish News a few
months ago. The article was
about why people didn't want to
go to Israel. Some cited securi-
ty reasons, the state of unrest in
Israel. Others simply didn't feel
a connection to Israel.
The Via Dolorosa in Old Jerusalem.
I cannot understand those
reasons. No matter what your
religious beliefs, whether you
believe in the validity of the
Bible, whether or not you con-
sider yourself a religious Jew,
there is something special about
being in Israel. I don't know how
to describe it, but once the plane
touches down at Ben-Gurion
Airport, you know you are some-
where special.
Maybe it's because as Jews
we are members of the majori-
ty when we are in Israel. Maybe
it is because of the historic con-
nection we have to the land and
the people. There are no words
for it — only feelings.
It is that tingly feeling I had
in my stomach as we drove into
Jerusalem a few weeks ago,
stopping on Mt. Scopus to see
the city. I had tears in my eyes
I've toured Israel numerous as I viewed the city once again,
times and each time, I always squeezing my husband's hand
learn or see something new to to share my excitement and awe
me. That's what is so great at being in Jerusalem. Saying
about Israel. It is ancient. Our "Shehechiyanu" with members
history comes alive there. See- of our tour group, many of
ing the sites mentioned in the whom were seeing the holy city
Bible, putting stories of our an- for the first time. Even for those
cestors into context is exciting. of us who had been to Jerusalem
It also is new and modern. Is- many times before, it felt as if it
rael is a young country corn- were the first time. It was an
prised of peoples of different awesome experience.
My husband and I are al-
backgrounds, different countries
of origin, different religions. It ready making a list of the places
that we want to revisit and
is a "work in progress."
As I toured the country, and those that we want to see for the
especially when I was walking first time. In Israel, we found
down the streets of my favorite ourselves saying, 'When we're
here next time ...," without even
Amy Brodsky is affiliated with the thinking twice about it.
Now, all we have to do is save
Ecumenical Institute for
Jewish-Christian Studies and our money so that there can be
a next time. ❑
with Temple Kol Ami.
No words
for it — only
feelings.
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