Reminiscing about the “good old days” often leads to memories of the gone-but-not-forgotten-era when everyone used to leave their front door unlocked. Unfortunately, times have changed to the point where I would be grateful if my front door were the only thing that did require locking. It is sad to say that we’ve reached a level of international paranoia where we are forced to “lock” things that barely even existed back in the day. Cell phones, computers, bank accounts, alarm systems, copy machines, and, yes, even our front doors often require codes. This inundation of random strings of letters and

Marijuana use has become more socially acceptable lately, with many states legalizing it for medical and, increasingly, for recreational use. There is a distinction. Medical marijuana must be recommended by a physician and obtained from state-regulated outlets. In Maryland, medical marijuana is legal but recreational marijuana is not. However, a law passed in 2014 decriminalized the possession of 10 grams or less of marijuana, making it a civil infraction, similar to a traffic ticket.

The movement to legalize marijuana is a big change from the past, and although proponents make some good arguments, there are many unknowns. The major question is, is marijuana really harmless?  

Although marijuana – like alcohol and nicotine – is often called a “gateway drug,” the fact is that the majority of people who have tried or habitually use any of these substances do not go on to abuse “harder” drugs, such as heroin and cocaine. However, the vast majority of those who do become addicted to more harmful substances began their drug careers only after using these starter substances. Alcohol, nicotine, and marijuana “prime the brain for a heightened response to other drugs,” according to the NIH. But is this the only reason to avoid “soft” drug use?

My son’s first pediatrician was a man in his sixties with a jovial sense of humor, an essential characteristic for a new, nervous mother. At the eight-month checkup, the doctor asked me, “So would you say your son is average, below average, or above average?”

With a big smile, I said, “Definitely above average!” and I began to list all the remarkable qualities of my child, who could smile, crawl, and even eat solids. The doctor laughed, “I’ve only had one parent who said her son was average. I said to her, “You must not be Jewish, are you?”

The doctor’s comment was so true. We Jewish parents tend to fit the stereotype. To us, all our children are above average. And indeed they are. Every child is above average in one area or another, whether it be intelligence, speech, artistic ability, athleticism, or even single-mindedness. Every child has gifts and weaknesses. A parent’s job is to help the child develop his gifts to the fullest potential, and provide supports to overcome weaknesses.

    I have returned from my visit to Wlodawa, Poland, and want to share my feelings. For a long time, I wished to reach the place of my birth. My goal was to see if my home was still there and to see the synagogue, too. I began planning my trip in 2016 and contacted tour guides in New York, Israel, and Poland. I chose Taube Tours. This trip overseas was not my first. I have traveled for years as a marketing executive to Europe, Hong Kong, South Korea, Iran, and Germany. These days, I travel to Israel where our grandchildren and great-grandchildren live. There, I also visit my mother’s side of the family, the Cybermans, in Haifa, and my father’s side of the family, the Topols, in Tel Aviv. The survivors of the Cyberman and Topol families came to Israel from Poland in 1950. I took my mother to Israel in 1964 and kept in close contact with them. My wife Evelyn came with me on this journey to my hometown, Wlodawa.

Ooh la la! Crepes are delicious, and they’re French (unless, of course, you want to call them blintzes or, horrors, pancakes!). But French is more romantic (providing we ignore the current riots on the Champs Elysees), and it also gives you permission to speak your high school foreign language in a horrible (or not so horrible, as the case may be) accent.

As the temperature gets colder, I find I like to eat filled crepes. There’s something about the brisk nights that makes the evenings very cozy – especially when I’m wrapped in my imaginary L.L. Bean blanket in front of my imaginary fireplace with my imaginary fire roaring. Crepes are super easy to make, relatively healthy, and can be made gluten free. Crepes can be savory or sweet and can house just about any filling you would be willing to eat. They can be used as an appetizer, main dish, or dessert. They can be gussied up “Fancy Nancy” style, or they can be more “Plain Jane” and eaten as street food. 

It has become obvious, especially in recent years, that many people in the United States enjoy drinking alcohol and taking other drugs. The alcohol industry makes billions of dollars in sales annually. Tons of heroin and cocaine flow into the United States. Millions of prescriptions for opioids and benzodiazepines are filled annually, fueling overdose rates that are much higher in the United States than in other countries. Corporations and politicians work overtime to increase legal access to marijuana. The Juul e-cigarette company, which claims to market to adults, creates nicotine pods with the flavor of peaches, grapes, and berries. Substance use is big business.

One impact of all of this drug consumption is that many people develop a substance use disorder. (We tend to use the technical term “substance use disorder” instead of words like “alcoholic” or “addict” that convey a more pejorative meaning.) We hope that this article will be the first in a series of articles discussing substance use disorder and its treatment. This type of community education is an important part of the mission of Chayainu, a new community organization founded by Dr. Aviva Weisbord, Mrs. Esti Ziffer, and Larry Ziffer. Our aim is to help rabbis, schools, parents, and teenagers address the multiple challenges of preventing, identifying, and treating substance use disorder. We have met with the Vaad HaRabbanim, which strongly supports our efforts. We have also met with local schools and hope to work closely with other organizations that have led the way in addressing the impact of substance use disorder inside and outside of our community. There will soon be announcements about a series of parent education and awareness sessions that will feature useful information and strategies for educating our children and promoting wellness in our schools, shuls, and families.

I am a mother of a daughter in her mid-twenties. During her teenage years, she had a rough time. She was involved with drugs, dropped out of school, and got into a lot of trouble. She has matured and is now a law-abiding citizen. My problem is that it is very hard for me to advocate for her in finding a husband. Aside from her history, I see her faults clearly, and I am not sure if she has the attributes necessary to be a good wife. She does not have skills to earn a good living, although she is working towards her AA degree. She argues a lot with her siblings, is not helpful in the upkeep of the house, and does not have good social skills. The truth is that, if I had a son, I would not want him to marry a girl like my daughter.

Still, I care about her and would love to see her married and settled. I just don’t know how to approach the whole subject. If I tell shadchanim and my network of friends the truth, they will not look for a shidduch for her, but if I don’t tell them the truth, how can I live with myself?

I’ve made a colossal claim in my title. Are you really about to learn the recipe for the best doughnuts ever? Well, I’m not sure, but this recipe is amazing. You see, I’ve made sufganiyot (doughnuts) for years – and they never come out right! I don’t know why. I’ve gotten recipes from lots of doughnut makers whose doughnuts are delicious. I say, “Can I have your recipe,” and they generously share them. Then I try it and still get flat, fried dough. It’s very disappointing – almost like Charlie Brown and the football. Every year I try again, and every year that football is snatched away – although, truth be told, you can’t really fail with doughnuts, because we’re still dealing with fried dough with sugar, if you know what I mean.

This time it was different. Shira Perlman (of Delightfully Sweet fame) gave me a trick that is fool-proof (or, at least, Bracha-proof). I am now part of that elite group that gets fluffy doughnuts every time. Hooray! And, dear reader, you, too, can now be part of this group. Read on.

When the tragic synagogue shooting occurred in Pittsburgh, it was a given that every law school in the country would talk about it in some form. I can guarantee you that the secular professors and students discussed freedom of religion with as much intellectual theory and doctrine as possible. What I can’t guarantee is that they understood the personal pain that every Jew feels when we hear of anti-Semitic events both great and small. And why should they?

By the same token, the word Holocaust cannot possibly mean the same thing to them as it does to me, someone who cannot ask her Bubby about the multitude of family members killed in the Holocaust without it causing her Bubby to cry. Oh, yes, you’ll find that the Holocaust is a very common comparison used in both undergraduate and graduate discussions. When these discussions come up, I rarely express my personal connection to it. Usually, my colleagues know that I’m Jewish, and to me, it’s important that I don’t complain about what the world did or what it has come to. Instead, I choose not to be a victim. I choose to be a solution. The question then becomes, how?

As any good boy scout will tell you, there is a technique to building a bonfire. If you put together large sticks, as I’ve seen in picture books, the fire won’t catch. If you put a match on a pile of leaves, they will light quickly and burn out just as quickly. If you want to build a bonfire, there needs to be both tinder to start the flame and larger logs to sustain it over the long term.

Building a bonfire struck me as a good metaphor for chinuch, after a conversation I had with some other women. They had raised their children half a generation ago. Their children complain that they left their schools without feeling a deep connection and understanding of their Yiddishkeit; they were only drilled and tested to excel in Torah learning. I have had an entirely different experience. I find my children’s chinuch to be inspirational and aspirational. In fact, when I talk to young parents, I’m more concerned about the continual push for even more inspiration and less academics. The pendulum has swung in the other direction.