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