Preamble: I started writing this post in November 2024, in the wake of an election that’s left many of us feeling fearful about the future. I intended it to be an alternate narrative for the times. I am finishing it in February 2025 when many of our fears are coming to fruition. While the daily news seems even more bleak than we might have imagined a few months ago, my intention remains the same; to highlight the value and benefits of remaining curious and open to new possibilities; of reaching out and making connections (within and beyond our Jewish community) as we go through our daily tasks and larger challenges and adventures. The only way we’ll get through this is if we stick together.
In October, I traveled to Puerto Rico for eight days to attend a conference for work. It sounded exciting when the opportunity arose and when I told friends and family about my plan. I’m lucky to work in the arts; the conference wasn’t all powerpoints and talking heads. There were live musicians in the hallways between sessions, surprise performances by puppeteers and stilt walkers in the conference rooms, and off-site meetings in museums. There were some precious moments between presentations and breakout sessions when I got to wander the streets of Old San Juan. But mostly, it was a long time away from home trying to take in lots of new information and networking around the clock. But I don’t get to travel much and hadn’t been across an ocean in many decades, so I leaned into the opportunities to explore when I could find them.
I’m ashamed to say I didn’t know much about the history of PR and its political relationship to the U.S. before I left home. Once there, I read as much as I could and that informed everything I saw, ate, and heard. Since the trip overlapped with Shabbat and I knew one of our members spent his adolescence in the city, when Friday came around I endeavored to find a service to attend. The more I learned, the more questions I had. That’s part of our Jewish heritage I carry with me everywhere – asking questions – so perhaps it was natural that in a city full of crosses, I went looking for a six-pointed star.
I learned that waves of Jews came to the island as a place of refuge – “conversos” during the Spanish inquisition, those fleeing the Nazis in the 1930-40s, and from Castro’s Cuba in the 1950s. (Wikipedia has an extensive entry if you want more details.) Doug and his family moved to PR in 1966 when his father found a job opportunity and moved his family from New York to San Juan.
Google informed me there are currently Orthodox, Conservative, and Reform congregations in San Juan. I clicked on the reform website and came to find Temple Beth Shalom – a congregation Doug’s parents helped establish. (Again, you can see their photo and read more here.) Per their safety plan, I let the synagogue know I’d be coming and excitedly jumped in an Uber to see how a rabbi from Argentina leading a diverse congregation in Puerto Rico would conduct a Friday night service.
When I arrived, I was warmly greeted by a member signing people in. He checked my ID and pointed the way into the intimate sanctuary. It was at once familiar and different. It felt like a lot of legacy congregations I have been to over time -all the knowledge but not as much chutzpah as I’d hoped for – but it was small and cozy. Grand but not intimidating. High ceilings, a small bimah and an ark built into the wall. It felt homey. Haimish as some would say. (The photo above doesn’t capture this very well. You’ll just have to trust me.)
The service however, left me longing to be back in Columbus with my people. I had another chance at finding home away from home on a more recent trip to Washington, DC where I had the pleasure of eating a home-cooked vegan dinner with our beloved Rabbi Jessica Shimberg. (If you don’t know her, you can read more about her role in our founding in this brief history of KSS.) Jessica was a role model for me as I found my passion for lay leadership in our community. Catching up with her and her husband, along with her childhood friend who was also in town for work felt so familiar. I took my shoes and socks off at the door and relaxed into an evening of rich smells filling my nose and overlapping conversation in my ears.
This isn’t the greatest photo of either of us. It was a last minute thought as we were heading out the door for a walk, but it’s evidence of our visit, and that Rabbi Jessica’s out there, smiling on our sacred community.
As you go out in this big crazy world – be it around Columbus, to another city or state to see family and friends, or abroad for bigger adventures – take some time to look for our people. We’re small but mighty and we can do beautiful things when we stick together. That’s a lesson I can stand to hear again and again.
Jodi Kushins
Past Chair, KSS