Unity descends on the Valley

Result of guilt-inspiring demographic study?

SHERRY SIEGEL

Communitywide services for Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur will be held this year at Dodge Theatre, in downtown Phoenix.

Photo courtesy of the Dodge Theatre, altered by Jewish News

Have you been blinded by the glare of the national spotlight shining on the Jewish community of Greater Phoenix over the past three months?

Since the release of the Highlights report of the Greater Phoenix Jewish Community Study in December 2002, the Valley has been swarming with national media and top-ranking executives from the country's major religious denominations.

From ABC to MSNBC; from Baha'i and Buddhist to Unitarian and Zoroastrian, reporters and U.S. religious leaders want to know the answer to this question: How did the Jewish community here transform itself, in just three short months since the release of the study, from a community that was largely disengaged and uninterested in religious organizational life into a vibrant involved community, a model city where religious and secular life are seamlessly integrated, and where even Jews get along with other Jews?

The easy answer is that the release of the study - the first comprehensive community demographic analysis undertaken here since 1984 - acted like the "Mother of All Jewish Mothers" guilt-trip on the collective conscience of Valley Jews.

And indeed, many of the numbers reported in the study can be considered guilt-inducing. For example, being Jewish is considered "very important" to 63 percent of Jewish respondents, yet only 29 percent reported belonging to a Jewish congregation and only 33 percent admitted to calling their mothers "at least once a week."

But since the study's dissemination throughout the community, it has become common to see Reform Jews and Orthodox Jews stroll arm in arm on the Sabbath.

Children ranging from tots to teens now wait impatiently for spots to open up at local Hebrew schools that can no longer accommodate demand and pester their parents incessantly by whining, "I wanna go to Heee-brew school! When can I go, huh? When?"

And sheitls have become a must-have fashion accessory for the trendiest 20-something Scottsdale bar hoppers.

During his February visit to Phoenix, President George W. Bush stunned local Republican leaders when he stood in the doorway of Air Force One and announced to the waiting press, local GOP leaders and various dignitaries that he refused to come down the steps to the tarmac unless his handlers promised him enough time to tour the Valley of the Sun Jewish Community Center and "snooze," as he phrased it, with the locals. Bush waved a well-thumbed copy of the Jewish News Visitors' Guide (featuring "Best of Jewish Phoenix") and added, "There's plenty of restaurants I need to visit, too."

Over a progressive lunch of chopped liver, gefilte fish with chrain, cabbage soup, gedempte fleish, kugel and dessert that took him to Chompie's, Goldman's, Leo's, Miracle Mile, New York Bagels and Scott's Generation, Bush told reporters that the turnaround in Phoenix surpassed his wildest dreams.

"Boy, your faith-based initiative ideas turned out really good," the president said between bites of a nice piece of rugelach. "This is truly the dawning of the Age of Aquariums here in Phoenix."

Putting guilt aside - but only for a few moments - how did the Valley's formerly apathetic Jewish community arrive so quickly at this place of shalom? The answer depends on who is asked - and finding someone to ask has not always been easy.

Community overwhelmed

Due to overwhelming interest from the national media during the past three months, Valley Jews - normally a quiet, shy presence in the Arizona landscape - found themselves short of leaders willing to speak with journalists; most flatly refused to tear themselves away from prayers and ministering to their congregants.

To solve that problem, rabbis and organizational leaders drew straws to determine which of them would be required to talk to the press.

The group expressed good-natured humor when a straw snafu put an Orthodox rabbi in front of a group of reporters with questions about Reform Judaism and a Reform rabbi in front of reporters with questions about Orthodox Judaism.

"'Reform' is not a synonym for 'less observant,'" the Orthodox rabbi was heard to explain, tugging his payes with frustration at the denseness of the reporters under his care. Elsewhere, the Reform rabbi chided his misinformed flock: "Just because some Orthodox wear 18th-century garb doesn't mean they're not full participants in modern-day life."

(Conservative rabbis did not speak to the press, still busy - as they have been for decades now - trying to define the Conservative movement to their own congregants.)

Despite their roles as spokesmen, both rabbis insisted on anonymity, fearing it would appear that they were trying to set themselves apart from the community by gunning for publicity.

The Orthodox rabbi also said that while he believes guilt is certainly a powerful force, such dramatic change as the Valley has lately experienced could be the result of only one thing: prayer.

"Many of us already pray three times a day, shacharit, minchah and ma'ariv," the rabbi said. "When the study came out, we asked the Jewish federation and all the synagogues and organizations in town if we could use their mailing lists - everyone said 'yes,' of course - and we sent postcards out asking the entire known Valley Jewish population to pray for the healing of our fractured community. Praise be, it worked," he said.

A second mailing took place after Pope John Paul II issued a call in February for Catholics to renew their emphasis on reciting the rosary. "We countered with another mail blitz featuring Shemoneh Esrei, which of course has been around longer than the rosary," the rabbi said. "Thrust, parry, feint!"

Yet others say the credit for saving the Valley's Jewish community from collapsing under the weight of its own apathy belongs to one woman, Valley resident Q. Esther Jinn, who emerged as a spokeswoman and activist shortly after the release of the study.

Jinn says she had no interest in taking the spotlight, but feared that the study's findings would be buried under the weight of endless rounds of meetings and discussions unless someone stepped forward and took action.

"I don't think of myself as a hero," said Jinn. "All I did was look at a few salient facts from the study and bring that information to some key people."

Jinn cites the Valley's youth groups as one example. "I personally was amazed to learn (from the study) that there are as many kids under age 18 as there are seniors 65 and older," said Jinn. "So I showed that to some kids from NFTY, USY, and other groups with initials, and they flipped out. One of them said to me, 'You mean, like, every other handicapped parking spot could be, like, a mini skateboard park?' I told him, 'Like, duh, dude, being 65-plus doesn't automatically make you handicapped.' "

Jinn's revelation inspired Jewish youths throughout the Valley to activism, resulting in the creation of a skateboard park adjacent to the Mah Jongg Pavilion at the Scottsdale Shadows condominium complex, at the intersection of Camelback and Hayden Roads. The expanded facility has been renamed Mah Jongg Skatepark, and the interaction of skateboarders and Mah Jongg players is clearly a joy for both groups.

Millie Rubin, a high-ranking member of the Shadows' condo regime, admitted she gets emotional when the subject of skateboarding comes up. "Skateboarding is not a crime," said Rubin, slapping her Mah Jongg card on the table in front of her for emphasis. "Our wonderful next generation shouldn't have to worry about being arrested for SWJ (Skating While Jewish)!"

Rubin's favorite move is the salad grind, in which the skateboard is ridden down the handrail of a stairway; but with typical grandmotherly concern she cautions, "Don't you little ones try a salad grind until you nail your five-0 grinds, or you'll get jacked!"

Heshie "Slider" Slomovitz, a regular at the park, has learned plenty about Mah Jongg, too.

"Man, the other day I watched East score a jokerless Mah Jongg right after passing, and I was so excited I thought I was gonna wet my pants," he said.

The skateboarders and the Mah Jongg players are now exploring new ways they can combine their dual interests. The youths are working out rules for "XXXtreme Mah Jongg," while the older group is creating a new skating move tentatively called "Dot, Crack, Bam!" And the gift shop at the Mah Jongg Skatepark now sells T-shirts emblazoned on the front with "I'm a Member of the Trolley Cars" and on the back with "Grandmothers with Wheels."

The importance of pizza

Jinn didn't stop after her success bringing together young and older Jews. Another fact that leapt out at her from the study was the rate of intermarriage: 41 percent.

"My rabbi said that's why so many marriages end in failure," said Jinn. "He said God didn't want a Conservative to marry a Reform or a Humanistic Jew to marry a Renewal Jew. I explained to him, 'No, no, rabbi, that's not what they mean by mixed marriage! They mean Jew and non-Jew!' Then he understood."

Jinn knew that the right approach to confronting the community's lingering ambivalence about intermarriage could help turn that 41 percent intermarriage rate into a blessing for k'lal Phoenix. That approach turned out to involve food: specifically, pizza.

She enlisted the help of Governor Janet Napolitano, confident the governor appreciated the deep connection shared by Jews and Italians - love of food and talking with one's hands. Together Jinn and the governor approached Jeffrey Trent, President and Chief Scientific Officer of Translational Genomics Research Institute (T-Gen), and told him what Phoenix needed: a kosher pig.

Trent was intrigued by the challenge.

While Trent and fellow T-Gen scientists spent long January nights in their temporary offices in Tempe, making attempt after attempt to "de-treif" swine, Jinn and Napolitano continued building alliances. Their next stop was King Solomon's Pizza, where their idea of kosher sausage and kosher pepperoni pizza was greeted with huzzahs and joyful dancing.

Today, thanks to the efforts of Jinn, Napolitano and T-Gen scientists, King Solomon's Pizza, now outfitted with a meat kitchen and a dairy kitchen, is packed at all times of day with intermarried couples, Muslims, and Jews of all denominational stripes enjoying their own slice of heaven, including sausage and pepperoni pizza dripping with soy "cheese."

Local impact

Whether the Valley's Jewish renaissance is the result of guilt, group prayer or the efforts of individuals - and certainly Q. Esther Jinn has secured her place in history as a hero of the Phoenix Jewish community - one thing remains certain: Now that the Jewish community has gotten its act together, the Valley will never be the same.

At the Jewish federation, a huge uptick in donations since the release of the study means that the federation will no longer ask for donations from travelers when they are in Israel on federation missions.

"We have enough money for now," said federation president and Jewish News contributing editor Vicki Cabot. "Let's all just travel and enjoy the sights."

Cabot added that the federation has been turning away volunteers who want to make fund-raising phone calls on Super Sunday, because they already have plenty.

"Dayenu!" Cabot cried. "If we take any more volunteers, there won't be enough people left at home to receive calls."

Congregations have made big changes as well. The wait time for getting into the Valley's Jewish day schools, after-school programs and Sunday programs currently is estimated at six months. Synagogue and temple membership is at full capacity throughout the Valley. As a result, no membership drives will be held this summer. Instead, the temples will produce a beauty pageant open to all Phoenix-area temple executive directors. The winner will receive a one-week all-expenses-paid trip for two to Tucson's Canyon Ranch Spa for the week following Yom Kippur.

(When the overflow crowds first started appearing, one rabbi was reportedly overheard to ask the cantor standing next to him: "Have we started serving food at services instead of after?")

To help manage the crowds expected for this year's High Holiday services, an additional communitywide service will be held at Dodge Theatre (seating capacity: 5,500). Bank One Ballpark was originally considered because of its much larger seating capacity (53,000), but BOB will not be available: Diamondbacks owner Jerry Colangelo plans to host a fund-raising meeting for the anti-choice American Life League at the taxpayer-financed stadium sometime near Rosh Hashana.

Beyond the Jewish community

With such major changes rippling through the Jewish community in the past few months and the Jewish population's growth to a whopping 4 percent of the greater Phoenix community (up from only 3 percent in 1983), it's not surprising that Jewish culture has begun to permeate the Valley.

Some of the changes are subtle, like the recent addition of gribenes on the menu at Mary Elaine's; others are more noticeable. Supermarket giant Albertson's, which had expanded its kosher offerings even before the study was released, is spinning off its kosher section into freestanding stores called ben Albert. And in what is widely regarded as a stunning development, other supermarkets throughout the Valley have announced they will stop displaying kosher-for-Passover food at Hanukkah.

Tempe's Mill Avenue, one of the Valley's most popular shopping destinations, has in the past three months seen the opening of new businesses with a distinctly Jewish flavor, including:

ReJewvenation Massage and Chiropractic, whose motto is: "We're a Stiffnecked People - Deal With It!"
Sheitls Happen, a shop with an attitude that stocks wigs in hot pink and goth purple; giant-sized "urban" mezuzahs and Star of David necklaces; and the best-selling talking book, "Madonna Reads Kabbalah."
Kosher Sax, a jazz nightclub where the popular house drink is "Chabad on Ice." (Editor's note: "Chabad on Ice" is not to be confused with "Chanukah on Ice," the annual Chabad skating event co-sponsored by Jewish News. Jewish News is currently negotiating to become the official media sponsor of "Chabad on Ice" and plans to require that each drink be served on a coaster embossed with these words: "Jewish News is Proud Media Sponsor of Chabad on Ice. Drink responsibly, unless it is Purim.")

And while the Jewish community may try to disown it, there's little doubt that a new skin emporium in Phoenix's red light district, Vashti's Girls Girls Girls (motto: Where the Women Dance Only if They Want To) is also a result of Jewish culture seeping into the Valley's mainstream culture.

In all parts of the Valley, a ferocious highway littering problem has been tamed, thanks to road signs that read "Keep the Valley Schmutz-free," "Littering Isn't Kosher" and "Tikkun Olam! Don't Toss That Gum!"

And the Deer Valley Pool, a City of Phoenix public facility at 19th Avenue and Deer Valley Road, is being turned into a mikvah to accommodate the Jewish community's rapid northward and westward growth.

Deer Valley Mikvah has been joined by a new temple (or shul or synagogue), the community's first Conservadoxabad-Humaniform-Egalitarenewal congregation. Beit Chelm will be located on Avenida de Shushan, just blocks from the new mikvah. Beit Chelm plans to offer services and programs that "will be offensive to no one," according to the Rabbi of Chelm.

While Valley Jewish residents generally agree that the changes in the past three months have been overwhelmingly positive, some do not take pride in this particular institution.

Immediately after Beit Chelm opened its doors for the first time, a small group of Jews materialized on the sidewalk across the street to announce that they wouldn't be caught dead attending the new temple. The group chanted "Chelm, no, we won't go!" while waving protest signs saying "Stop the Homogenization of Judaism," and "Diversity Makes Us Strong," and "Please, No More Reality TV Shows!"

A spokesman for the group, Morty High, a homeowner on Avenida de Shushan and, perhaps not surprisingly, the uncle of Q. Esther Jinn, summed it up like this:

"It's one thing for Judaism to be embraced by the larger culture, and I love what Esther has done for the Jewish people; a community can never have too many Mah Jongg Skateparks. But hey, man: A community that is afraid of its own diversity - and this silly Beit Chelm temple is a result of that fear - well, that's gonna be the end of us."

Sherry Siegel is Jewish News marketing manager. E-mail her at sherry_siegel@jewishaz.com.

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