know this. It's really important in the
workplace to have open lines of corn-
munication, so no one feels threat-
ened."
Working in largely non-Jewish set-
tings, Bryce Sandler, a fund-raiser for
Congressman Joe Knollenberg, has
never has a problem taking time off
for the High Holidays. "I've always
said, this is our holiday, it's the
equivalent of your Christmas or
Easter, and I want to take a day or
two off for it," he says. "People have
been very warm, understanding, even
curious."
When Mark Phillips worked on
Wall Street, he told his future
employers during the interview
process "that I take off all Jewish hol-
"Thn beginning to
realize not
everything
stays the same.
ALLISON KAPLAN
Special to The Jewish News
Allison Kaplan, (Singlstyle@aol.com),
is a five-lance writer based in Chicago.
idays and leave early on Fridays. I
made it clear, as ‘fact," said the
Huntington Woods resident who is
now a partner in a full-service
Internet production company.”Most
people understand spiritual needs."
Klausner agrees. "It has been my
experience that most people are
accommodating," she says. "It's been
my approach to be open and willing
to answer questions, go into detail as
much as I can; if I don't know the
answers, I find them.
"It's been a very positive experi-
ence for everybody if I approach it
that way, if I don't stuff it down their
throat. My door is always open, I'll
always talk about anything Jewish-
related. I've been surprised to see
how well-received the conversations
have been and how many people say,
`Oh, that's really interesting,' or 'Oh
here's a little bit of what I do.'"
She is not required to make up
Jewish holidays on Sundays or by
staying late; Klausner has a set
amount of work to complete each
week and it's up to her to figure out
how. Stacy, Sandler and Cohen all
work beyond an eight-hour workday,
so they have some overtime to play
with.
Across the board, young adults say
their bosses insist that they complete
a standard workload, regardless of
how many days they are off.
Said Klausner, "You have to know
about the holidays, because one of
the first questions they're going to
ask is 'What's Shemini Atzeret?
What's Sukkos?' The other big ques-
tion was, 'Well I've known Jewish
people, and they've never had these
holidays; why aren't these other peo-
ple doing it?' You have to explain the
different sects of Judaism, too."
What if you're trying to become
more religious, slowly, and you've
never taken time off before for
Sukkot or Simchat Torah? Phillips
suggests explaining it to an employ-
er.
"Explain to them the journey
you're exploring, learning more
about your heritage, different tradi-
tions and practice," he says. "Most
people understand." ❑
o matter how old I get, how
far away I move, who I
invite to escort me back
home, one thing has always
held true come Rosh Hashanah morn-
ing.
You can find my family seated on
the far left side of the sanctuary, in the
third row.
A couple of years ago, my family's
synagogue — the one my mother has
attended since she was five — moved
to a new building with a sanctuary in
an entirely different configuration. I
mentioned to my relatives that this
might be our opportunity to break out
of the left-side rut. We could do some-
thing startling: like sit in the center sec-
tion, or — just imagine — up in the
balcony.
Sure enough, my family gravitated
to the third row of the perimeter seats
— the furthest left accommodation
available in the brand new sanctuary.
At least there's no trick to finding them
if I arrive a few minutes late.
It is trivial, I know, to enter the syn-
agogue on the High Holidays and
spend the first 10 minutes making sure
everyone is in their appropriate place.
But I take comfort in knowing the
Stillmans will be front and center, the
Fittermans will be in the second row
on the right and I'll be surrounded by
those I love most, on the far left side.
That is tradition. But I'm beginning
to realize not everything stays the same.
Last year for the first time, we didn't
eat lunch at my Grandma Esther's
apartment after Rosh Hashanah morn-
ing services. For an 89-year-old, she's
pretty amazing. She still drives, volun-
teers Mondays at Children's Hospital
and plays mahjongg every other
Tuesday. But arthritis has made it diffi-
cult for her to peel two dozen potatoes
as She used to, and osteoporosis pre-
vents her from shifting heavy trays in
and out of the oven.
So Rosh Hashanah lunches moved
to my aunt's house. It seems a little
weird — my aunt's house is for
Thanksgiving, not Rosh Hashanah.
But we learn to adapt.
Though- she probablidoesn't know
it, I'm learning that from my grandma.
Rosh Hashanah doesn't have to be
celebrated at Grandma Esther's third
floor apartment to have her oven mitts
all over it.
Because my brother has demonstrat-
ed a propensity for cooking to match
his voracious appetite, Grandma Esther
put him to work. She bought the pota-
toes, handed him a peeler and stood by,
hands on hips, to make sure he didn't
get lazy.
- What a peculiar sight it was, my
brother making potato knishes in my
grandma's kitchen. She, marveling at
his strong, young hands. He, not quite
mastering the roll and pinch technique
she deftly demonstrates - arthritis and
all.
Unfortunately, mechanical difficul-
ties ruined my brother's inaugural
batch.
My grandma's spare freezer, where
knishes, cookies and soups for family
dinners or surprise visits are always
stored, broke down. All that delicious
effort spoiled.
The spare freezer was 22 years old.
"It didn't owe me anything," Grandma
Esther said.
Then my grandmother told me she
didn't think she'd bother replacing the
freezer, since she isn't cooking much
these days anyway.
Now this would be an example of an
unnecessary break in tradition.
I asked my grandma, can you fit
everything you need in your regular
freezer?
"Well, my kitchen freezer isn't so
big," she said. "It's already full and I
don't have any place to put the cook-
ies."
The cookies?
All the while my grandma corn-
plains she can no longer cook, she's
been stashing away homemade cookies,
one scrumptious tray at a time.
Grandma Esther's cookies are delicate,
chocolate dipped endeavori. So perfect,
outsiders assume they were store
bought.
I thought you weren't cooking any-
more, I said to my gram.
"Oh, I'm not. Just cookies. Maybe
some Icnadl soup."
I see. Well, what say you get a new
freezer, I proposed, just for. kicks.
She thought about this..Freezers
don't come cheap these dayi.. But Sears,
it just so happened, was having a sale.
Grandma Esther excitedly called me
back to say she ordered a new freezer,
right over the phone. A little smaller
than her old one, but every bit as func-
tional.
It might take her longer to fill it,
and a few old specialties will no longer
be part of the repertoire. But before
heading over to my aunt's house for
Rosh Hashanah lunch, Grandma
Esther will pull out of that ice box
more food than we could possibly
digest.
And Rosh Hashanah lunch will still
seem like Rosh Hashanah lunch no
matter where it takes place. ❑
9/25
1998
Detroit Jewish News
109