Forestdale Heights Lodge
As I See It
Marc Kates
Marc Kates








It was a cathartic release. Finally, I was given the platform to really tell my colleagues how I had been feeling, and what they needed to know. Back in February, I was given the opportunity to attend a professional development workshop hosted by the new Toronto Holocaust Museum about the teaching of this most important subject. Holocaust education is now mandatory in both the Grade 6 and Grade 10 curricula, and I applaud the Government of Ontario for instituting this policy. How little did I realize at the beginning of September how much more importance and value would be placed on the transmission of this knowledge in the wake of the October 7 Hamas attack.  

To be blunt, the new curricula tells teachers what to teach, but not how to teach it. Every student in Grades 6 and 10 needs to cover the course material, but the way in which the expectations are laid out, the material alone is comparable to a graduate studies course. Despite the challenges, I knew that I was engaged in “avodat kodesh” (holy work), and the urgency with which I had to get this done became even more pressured. As mentioned in the last edition of Kol Echad, I am raising “an army of thinkers who truly believe in standing up for those less fortunate and for those fleeing persecution.” My students “get it,” but I was unsure my colleagues did.  

I worked for hours on my slide show presentation. I needed to set the right tone. I shared with them about the PD I had received, how I had implemented Holocaust education in my classroom, and the collaborative efforts I had with my colleague in the other class. I then launched into the heart of my presentation. I shared with my colleagues the new reality in which we find ourselves. 

I started with the facts of what happened on October 7 during Hamas’ brutal and barbaric attack. I then switched to an article from the Toronto Star about Toronto’s police chief, Myron Demkiw, who reported about a 93% increase in antisemitic incidents compared to the previous year. I shared pictures I had taken of the Police mobile command units up and down Bathurst Street taken from my car dashboard. 

The pictures I took of the vandalism at the Starbucks a block away on Eglinton were next. I read the e-mail notification I received from TanenbaumCHAT’s head of school about the evacuation following the receipt of information that explosive devices were allegedly planted at the school. Images from across Toronto – the ones that are seared now into our psyche – the demonstration over the 401 at Avenue Road, and the scaling of the outside of Mount Sinai Hospital were some of the numerous examples I provided. Next came images from antisemitic incidents from across Canada. Finally, to bring the matter closer to home, I shared news reports about antisemitism in the TDSB. 

I ended the presentation with the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance’s definition of antisemitism, you know, the one that people wish to change to suit their own heinous beliefs. I spoke about our history, and that we are the Indigenous inhabitants of the Biblical Land of Israel. To conclude, I spoke about the treatment of our staff and students, those triggering and misunderstood slogans used to provoke and incite fear and intimidation. And if that wasn’t enough, I told them that if they still wished to boycott the State of Israel, they better stop using Waze, their USB key, computer firewalls, and never consume a cherry tomato – all of which were invented in Israel.

To be honest, I don’t know what they took away from my presentation, but it felt good to finally stand up after being “shtum” (silent) for these many months. Two of my Jewish colleagues shared their own personal stories as well. They finally had a forum in which it was acceptable to unburden themselves. 

As for my colleague who said something inappropriate to a Jewish student of mine – she wasn’t present at the meeting, and I was disappointed. Nonetheless, perhaps some of my colleagues began to understand what we’ve been living with, and the bizarre topsy-turvy world we are battling daily. 

One can only hope.

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