Bottle and Glass

I'm going to a book launch party for my friend, neighbor and fellow author, Morgan Wade tonight. Morgan has published in various journals and anthologies and tonight he'll be launching his second book, Bottle and Glass.  He's asked me to introduce him, which is a great honour.

I’ve already had the good fortune to read the meticulously researched and moving Bottle and Glass. The novel tells the story of two young English fishermen forced into service with the Royal Navy towards the end of the war of 1812. The two young men, stationed in Kingston, spend most of the novel trying to escape the military and return home. Many of the scenes in the novel take place in historic Kingston places, especially taverns. This  is because according to Morgan much of life in Upper Canada took place in inns and taverns. Apparently in 1812 there were a whopping 78 taverns in Kingston. The novel's title, Bottle and Glass is from one such notorious tavern, "Violin Bottle and Glass."

 

When I was reading the novel, my mind kept imagining an earlier Kingston. It made me think of Anne Fadiman’s essay from her collection Ex Libris, called You Are There. She describes the magical feeling of reading a book in the place it describes or is set in. For example, you go to Greece, you read Homer. In New York you read Salinger or Joseph O’Neil. When reading Morgan’s book, I had the sense of It Used To Be Like That Here. I could so clearly see the landscape I know, both as it was then, and it is now.

 

Not only does Morgan knows a few things about early Kingston, he also knows a lot pubs and drinks. I consider him my personal bar tender. He mixes a  mean Martini, he’s generous with his Scotch and he's always willing to make my personal drink of choice, a White Lady. He’s also a great neighbor and a wonderful friend.

 

Morgan's launch is tonight: Friday, September 25th, 9:30pm at the Queen's Inn, Kingston, ON.

 

Happy New Year or Some Thoughts on Teaching Hebrew School

My August reading pile. I also read and loved Americanah by
Chichimande Ngozi Adache, which was too good to keep to
myself and is on loan to a friend.

Forget books for a minute. Wait, I know you're thinking, isn't this a book blog? Well, it is mostly. Except I'm too busy to read much in September. I spent all of August saturated in good books. (If  you want to see what I've been reading, check out the photo at the side.) But now, it's September and I don't have much time for reading. Keeping up with my New Yorker subscription will be enough for a few weeks.

You see, September is about work for me. I just completed my first week of teaching, both at the elementary school where I teach French (and apparently Health and Music too this year) and at the Reform Hebrew school program I run for a small group of children, including my own sons. A friend pointed out that I'm teaching six days a week right now, as well as writing books. That's a lot of classroom time! I have to admit Hebrew school stresses me out. I'm always searching for a good craft, or wondering if I've got the curriculum right, or trying to figure out how to stuff Hebrew reading, culture, music, bible study, prayer and a snack all in two hours. Am I forgetting important things my students should know? Are they ever going to master the Shma? How is it me who is responsible for these kids' Jewish learning? These thoughts keep me up during the week. And also, I despise shopping at Michael's for craft supplies. And then Saturday morning rolls around and somehow I love teaching Hebrew school. In fact, its one of the most rewarding experiences in my adult life. This is an enormous surprise to me. Like many Reform Jews I have more questions than answers about Judaism. There are things about Judaism that make me squirm. There have been times in my life when I have done nothing Jewish at all. And yet, here I am.

I've done some thinking about what makes teaching Hebrew school so enjoyable, why I get so much from the experience. I've decided that the material I'm trying to get across to my students is coming from a deep place within me. At my regular job I teach mostly French. I think I do a pretty good job, but French is my second language. I didn't learn it until I was twelve and the culture is foreign to me. When I teach about Quebec or France, it's not something I really know from experience. But Hebrew school I know deeply. The songs and food and stories I teach are the ones I know from my family and community and camp experiences in Vancouver and from my yeshiva experience at Pardes in Israel. They're the things that drew me to people who were strangers to me in Kingston, but who are now part of my community. The lessons I teach contain important messages about values, about how to be a mensch in the world. When I teach Hebrew school I'm also teaching a way to live. And that's important to me.

This Monday is the first day of the Hebrew month Tishrei, which means its Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year. To some, having a new year in September might seem odd, but to me it's perfect. The new year does begin in September. My husband, kids and I all go back to school. The kids go back to soccer and piano, I go back to the gym, to writing, to work. The word Tishrei means beginnings, which is apt to me. 

 

I wish you all a Shana Tova v'metukah, which mean a happy and sweet year, whether it be your Jewish New Year, or a back-to-school kind of new-time-of year. I hope your year is filled with good health, valuable family time, learning, rich experiences and excellent reading. If your heart needs to be lifted, or you like Jewish videos made by yeshivas, check out Rosh Hashana Rock Anthem below or the Fountainheads singing Dip Your Apple.