Tag Archives: Breed Street Shul

Experiencing INTERSECTION: Artists at the Breed Street Shul


Celebrating Art Culture in Boyle Heights, East Los Angeles

After being extended a second week due to the excitement surrounding this exhibition, the latest open house of the Breed Street Shul Project cheerfully closes as a great success. Running from May 31st through June 13th, this gorgeous art show featured local Jewish, Japanese and Latino artists – representing three of the foundational historic communities of Boyle Heights.

"Nigun for Peace" by Lori Shocket and Seigfried Knop

“Nigun for Peace” by Lori Shocket and Seigfried Knop. With the mostly holy Jewish confession, the Shema written in Hebrew cursive script

This stands out as a major milestone in what has become a nearly 20-year restoration and revitalization effort at this historic site. With their hard work now being realized with such gorgeous and stunning results.

In recent years the Breed Street Shul Project has been celebrating the historical roots of the community of Boyle Heights through a series of special events ranging from lectures to historic banquets. And in celebrating life by hosting special events ranging from bar mitzvahs to pre-Grammy celebration parties. And welcoming festivities ranging from Israel Independence Day events like Fiesta Shalom, to the revelry of the Dia de los Meuertos celebrations. As well as giving guided tours of the historic eastside immigrant community.

This latest installment of Boyle Heights culture focused on art, and resulted in the stunning temporary transformation of the Beit Midrash – the original 1915 wood-framed study hall which first housed the synagogue, in the back – into a stunning art gallery. Professionally balanced in both light and tone.

The range of art and the subjects of inspiration also masterfully balanced. This show presented amazing pieces of mixed media art and fine painting. Using touching and striking images, to present the glory and  the tragedies of the Boyle Heights experience.

Portrait of Breed Street Shul, imaged upon recycled pages of Jewish prayers

Portrait of Breed Street Shul, imaged upon recycled pages of Jewish prayers

Immediately on display, viewers are greeted by a large portrait of the Breed Street Shul. One of the oldest known images of the larger brick synagogue which graces the front of the property. This larger sanctuary opened for services in 1923. The shul is shown in all its original splendor, before southern California’s notorious earthquakes destroyed the ornamental brickwork and cast stones. However, if you look closely at the portrait one will see the portrait has been imaged over recycled Jewish liturgical texts by artist Lori Shocket.

This show, which ran up until the Father’s Day weekend, touchingly displayed the collaborative work of physician Lori Shocket, and her artistically acclaimed father and holocaust survivor Seigfried Knop.

The duo’s “partnership paintings” are breathtaking blends acrylic and pastels. Each baring the timeless words of the most holy Jewish confession in Hebrew script, “Shema Yisrael, Hashem Eloheinu, Hashem Echad / Hear oh Israel, the L-rd our G-d, the L-rd is One.” (Deut. 6:4) Each depiction is of the grand stained glass windows of the shul. The abstract “Diffraction,” the somber “Defacement,” and the bright “Niggun for Hope.”

"Prayer for..."As impressive as the painting are, their mixed-media presentations also offered deep Jewish cultural and religious themes that should not be overlooked.

“Prayer for…” breaks the concept of canvas as a box display of the Kotel – the most holy Western Wall in Jerusalem. With a crack in the wall filled with prayers, as is the custom of the site. The surface of the wall is in the hue of Jerusalem Stone, met with a faint representation of a section of closely toned Torah Scroll parchment. This work pulls in the viewer, almost daring them to leave a hope and prayer of their own.

613 Mitzvot“613 Mitzvot” reminds us of the 248 positive and 365 negative commandments of the Torah; the do’s and do not’s of the scriptures which govern Jewish religious life. The partially covered magen david – the star of David – reminds us of the grand window of the shul once again. Raised from the canvas is the expression of a tallit – a ritual prayer prayer shawl. The four-cornered garment itself bearing a light display of handwritten Hebrew text, with the Torah prescribed tzitzit tasseling off the canvas. The four-cornered garment hints at the concept of being wrapped in the holy thoughts of Torah, whereas the tzitzit represent the commandments of Torah put into practice and action. We must have both the meeting of thought and action to accomplish mitzvot – good deeds.

Local Latino artist and muralist Fabian Debora also connects with the Jewish character of the site in the truly amazing and richly painted “Graffittied Rabbi,” which layers themes of urban Jewish life and barrio artistry. The chassid facing a wall of graff-styled Hebrew.

"Graffittied Rabbi" by Fabian Debora

“Graffittied Rabbi” by Fabian Debora. The art of this exhibit so nicely blending in with the historic art surrounding the bima and the Torah Ark

Fabian Debora was raised in Boyle Heights and created his first artwork as a young gang member on the walls of the Breed Street Shul itself. He has since grown, rehabilitated himself and gone on to become one of most well-respected of the local artists to take their inspiration from the Chicano muralist tradition. In addition to his professional artistry he is also active with Homeboy Industries Inc., as a drug counselor and helping others also emerging from the hardships of gang life. It seems only right that his evolution as an artist and resident is celebrated in this exhibition. And that his art once again return to these halls in a positive way.

It is important that viewers take notice that it was not just synagogue and Jewish themed art which took the spotlight at this art show.

Fabian also joined fellow Boyle Heights resident Mike Saijo in delivering themes apropos to the surrounding neighborhood of Boyle Heights. Some of these works bringing to remembrance times of hardship and social upheaval significant to all members of this community.

Mike Saijo is a well-respected and recognized local artist, as well as the artistic brainchild who helped bring this group of diverse artists together for this unique show. Siajo’s work often touches on issues of diversity and racial prejudice, focusing on the experiences of the Japanese, Jewish and Latino communities circa WWII. He once again delivers a wonderful presentation of ethnically diverse themes.

"The Portrait of Natsuhara Family" by Mike Saijo

Portrait of Natasurah Family,” by Mike Siajo

Saijo’s work “Evergreen” is a framed piece of layered mixed-media art, depicting the eerie beauty of the Japanese section of the local Boyle Heights cemetery just blocks away. It is one of the most beloved of cemetery sections in the local community.

The piece “Portrait of Natasurah Family,” is a gleaming and classy presentation of mixed-media art. The handsome family portrait is imaged over the pages of “Story of an Issei Pioneer.” This piece gives us a small glimpse into the lives of the people who struggled as first generation Japanese-Americans from the 1880s through the 1940s.

Fabian Debora delivered another homage to the Japanese community of Boyle Heights, while touching on one of the most darkest points of this community’s history; the internment of Japanese-Americans during WWII. His use of canvas and paint to carry this story is nothing short of tremendous, here in his pieces titled “In Torment.”

Story of the interment of Japanese-Americans

“In Torment” by Fabian Debora, tells the story of the internment of Japanese-Americans

The internment of the Japanese-Americans. It cannot be overstated just how much this event scarred those who lived through it, and how this episode tore at the fabric of our community. Especially traumatizing the youth of the community who saw their classmates taken away and placed behind fences. Calling into question for each immigrant group their own safety, by seeing people as American as themselves taken away under suspicion.

This historic tragedy is something many people in Boyle Heights still discuss, as for some this event still calls into question the veracity of ones own American citizenship to isolate them from injustice and xenophobia. However, so traumatic and so great were the losses of both pride and property that I know local Japanese families who do not ever talk about their experiences with their children so as not to cause them to think ill of the USA. Not all the wounds have healed yet.

The Japanese community here was never fully restored to its former glory after the war, and is much smaller yet today. It’s important we do not forget them and tell their story. And that we express just how shared this pain was for the rest of the Boyle Heights community.

This is not the only shared pain which is vividly presented in this art exhibition, Mike Saijo present us with, “Orpheum (Theater of War).” He uses a mixed-media once again, along with mechanical motions, to tell the brutal story of the Zoot Suit Riots which ripped through the minority communities of Los Angeles 1943.

While the riots are part of the oral history of the area, and central to the foundation myths of the Chicano street culture, few young people today understand the details of this deeply traumatic time for both Latinos, and the many Jews of Boyle Heights.

"Orpheum (Theater of War)" by Mike Siajo. This talented Japanese American artist touches on the Zoot Suit Riots

“Orpheum (Theater of War)” by Mike Siajo. This talented Japanese-American artist touches on the Zoot Suit Riots

In this piece we get to peer into the pages of history, to see the horror of US servicemen attacking Mexican pachucos in the historic Orpheum Theater. A shocking spectacle of violence inspired by populist rhetoric. Servicemen of the day were regularly incensed by the appearance of the lack of support in uniform by Mexicans during WWII, all the while accusing Mexicans of making out well financially in industrial jobs they were called up to fill as the war raged. It only took the rumor of a gang stabbing and petty crimes to set in motion a brutal wave of violence against these young Latinos. (see “Fighting over the American Standard of Living, 1943-1945: Zoot Suit Riots, Wildcar Strikes, and the Supremacy of the Soldier.”)

The Zoot Suit Riots. As displayed in this piece, servicemen undressed and beat their victims. Defrocking Mexican youth of their infamous baggy dress suits and tearing them to shreds as a protest to the supposed appearance of excess and opportunism during the lean times of war. An orgy of violence against those they perceived as draft-dodging and disloyal, which spilled into all the minority communities of Los Angeles.

This series of brutal attacks were so severe it likewise traumatized Jewish community of the area, as many regarded the unrest and targeting of Mexicans as reminiscent of the pogroms inflicted against themselves in Eastern Europe. For this reason the Jewish community felt a great affinity with the cause of Mexican-Americans and for this reason threw their strong political support behind this other immigrant rich community.

The first vestiges of a viable Latino civil rights movement would emerge from the aftermath of the riots. The political unions made with progressive Jews at that time would also later help propel Edward R. Roybal to city council as the first Mexican-American council member of the City of Los Angeles in 1949. Kicking off a season of progressive advances in housing, education and healthcare access for the overlooked minority communities.

"I'm a Pachuco Bastard" by Fabian Debora

“I’m a Pachuco Bastard” by Fabian Debora

But at the same time this period also sparked the birth of the modern street-gang culture we know today. The pachuco gangs being the precursors to the cholos we know today. The lingering sentiments after the riots would further propel the rebellious impetus for national self-identity within the street-gang culture. A need to self-define and stand distinct in response to one’s feeling of otherness, which is still present in gang life today just as much as then.

Fabian Debora vividly and credibly takes us into an even more sublime thought. In his work “I’m a Pachuco Bastard,” which also looks back to the Zoot Suit Riots. His work is more than just a bold affirmation torn off the slur. It takes a look at one person, and tells a classic Mexican-American story of conflict for him. Conflict with the society which one would hope to embrace him, and the fear of being the victim of that society as well. As we all ask the same questions looking at this piece, is he going to be embraced or is he being handcuffed? And which does our subject really want for himself anyhow? Does his face show sadness, hardness or indifference?

Both “I’m a Pachuco Bastard” and the final piece of this collection titled “Meet on Brooklyn Avenue,” beautifully display how well Fabian can intertwine the elements of high art with graffiti texture. And he’s even more exceptional at using his images to tease a story into the imagination of the observer. As in this final piece, with the meeting of three men whom we cannot identify except by a cropped view of their suits. We are left to start building a story: is this a pachuco, a chassid and Japanese man on good old Brooklyn? And what do we think the news of the day was for the corner gossip? We are drawn into wanting to ask so many questions. This is one of the many reasons I find his work so captivating.

Now I’m not an artist, and I don’t really have any artistic knowledge. I’m just an eastide boy who knows I like and what moves me. I really think that all the pieces of this show are just bursting with sentimental feelings of heritage to share. I appreciate being able to go on this artistic journey through the history and spirit of Boyle Heights with these fine artists.

"Meet  on Brooklyn Ave" by Fabian Debora

“Meet on Brooklyn Ave” by Fabian Debora

As I did my walk through I got a chance to grab a chat with Breed Street Shul Project Executive Director Sherry Marks, and she shared her deep excitement to finally see an art show at the shul. As this is one of the most expressive and dynamic of the events in this open house series. She also expressed how hopeful she is as they branch out into new areas of art and cultural expression as well. She mused of the idea of even possibly hosting drama and theater here one day! As there are so many wonderful possibilities that will open up for this site as it continues to be renovated to serve as a community cultural center.

Visiting the Breed Street Shul is always an exciting time for me. But I think more that just being appreciative of the beauty of the site and its rich history, I think one of the draws for me is how much I learn from the community interaction to be found at these really spectacular events hosted by the project. This site draws so many different people together. It is a meeting spot where both old and new Boyle Heights folk get the chance to exchange heartfelt stories and memories about the neighborhood they love.

One of the reasons we need the Breed Street Shul is this site charmingly brings people together and remind us that our various minority groups have been in this boat together for a long time. And that our historical pains, they have been shared pains. And this site also bears witness to how much we have all benefited from the diversity of our glorious past. And these events here, they help us remember and retain the multiculturalism and diversity of that Boyle Heights experience.

…To be continued, with a story of the Wabash Saxons Reunion! For more images or the art, see video below!

Recommended articles and points of interest:


Parshat Bamidbar (5774)


Numbers 1:1 – 4:20

Nationalism: How do you feel about flag waving?

 A Mexican-American student (left) is bullied by nationalist students for carrying the American flag while showing support of immigrant rights. When do you feel that use of national flags and symbolisms become excessive and unsavory? Have you ever felt “anti-flag?”

A Mexican-American student (left) is bullied by Chicano nationalist students for carrying the American flag while showing support of immigrant’s rights. When do you feel that use of national flags and symbolisms become excessive and unsavory? Have you ever felt “anti-flag?”

What do flags mean to you? Are flags uniting symbols, or are they emblems of division? It is obvious to us all that most often, to the people who hoist them, flags embody a symbol of nationalism. How do you feel about that? Because, as for myself, I’m not so sure sometimes.

Even when not used in the context of the actual nation-state, people often utilize state flags for other nationalistic reasons, such as ethnic and cultural nationalism. Can you think of some examples where these symbols are used well, and examples of when they are used poorly?

It is not that I am against people showing pride in their homeland and culture, but I do not believe in using these symbols as weapons. Furthermore, I do not believe in utilizing them in a way which does not call attention to a diverse fabric in that flag. As I completely stand against ethnic nationalism.

This is a topic that comes to mind in relation to current events, and upon reading our parsha for this week. First, let’s take a look at the text here:

‘The children of Israel shall encamp with each person near the banner which has his paternal family’s insignia; a good way off shall they pitch round about the tent of meeting.”

אִישׁ עַל דִּגְלוֹ בְאֹתֹת לְבֵית אֲבֹתָם יַחֲנוּ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל מִנֶּגֶד סָבִיב לְאֹהֶל מוֹעֵד יַחֲנוּ:

Ish al-diglo ve’otot leveit avotam yachanu benei Yisra’el mineged saviv le’ohel-mo’ed yachanu.

Deuteronomy 2:2

I don’t want to overwhelm us with commentery this week, but I want us to just quickly discuss the interesting points made by Rashi, the master commentary. But it’s essential we first connect to the discussion of the ages.

Rashi in his commentary makes sure we know what we are talking about, these otot – these signs, these symbols – he understands them to clearly mean flags. Notice how Rashi also describes these flags, pointing at their construction, he referred to them in Hebrew as mapa – meaning a tablecloth. This is what these “standards” were. Colored banners of cloth with symbols embroidered into them, hoisted on polls.

Rashi describes the background of the flags, saying that the color and hue of each was inspired after the color of their corresponding stone in the Breastplate of the High Priest. Thus each flag had distinctive colors, according to their distinct tribal identity. As each of these twelve stones were different, so too were each of the flags.

12 Shevatim Flags, MosaicThen Rashi gives us further details as to the appearance of the flags, and why they are called otot here – why they are to be understood as signs, and what the symbols mean. Rashi explains that each of the flags had a symbol placed on them. What type of symbol? Rashi says it was a symbol given to each tribe by Yaakov Avinu (באות שמסר להם יעקב), before his death in Egypt at the end of Genesis. (see Genesis chapters 49-50)

I was recently reminded of this lesson after a friend asked me to review some pictures of the historic Breed Street Shul, in Boyle Heights, East Los Angeles, California. Some have noticed that around the interior of the main sanctuary there are 12 symbols circling the entire sanctuary. Upon first glance, one cannot help but notice that most appear to be zodiac symbols, yet some figures do not seem to exactly fit this theme. This is not a unique depiction in this shul, it is actually quite common in classical synagogues as well.

Midrash based on this week’s Torah reading sheds some light on this subject. Our traditional folklore credits Avraham Avinu – Abraham our Father – as being among the first to assign symbolism to the zodiac. He, and Yakkov his grandson, are said to have correlated the symbols of the classical zodiac with the descriptions of these 12 tribal patriarchs given at their time of blessing. This is something that is reaffirmed as a long-held belief even in the classical age, as accounted by 2nd century Hellenistic writer Vettius Valens.

However, these signs are not all so obviously connected to the heavenly constellations they correspond to today. Instead the midrash explains them slightly different at times. For example, Zevulen is symbolized by a ship, Naftali an olive tree, Binyamin a wolf, etc. Each of these were to symbols useful to describe something about the nature of those tribes and what they were good at. As with Zevulen whose tribe is understood to have become great sea merchants, thus the ship.

And then at the center there was the flag of the Levites, whose ensign was a depiction of the multicolored breastplate which represented the 12 tribes of Israel. Their multifaceted emblem understood to be a symbolic representation of all the many colors of the Israelites.

Even today, in synagogues like the Breed Street, you will see depictions of the Twelve Tribes in the form of these traditional symbols which are only loosely related to the Zodiac. Instead what they really are present for, is to symbolize the balance and harmony of the tribes of Israel, each dwelling peaceably with their own clan as described here in this week’s parsha. (see diagram at the bottom)

boyle_2994

Inside the historic Breed Street Shul, Boyle Heights, East Los Angeles, California. The symbols of the Twelve Tribes still remain. In fact, the round Star of David stained glass pieces are just place holders for 12 original pieces depicting the 12 Tribes of Israel. They are being kept in storage for safekeeping during the restoration. Please see more images and a correspondence chart below.

As described in Rashi’s commentary for this verse, Yehudah leads in the east, along with Issachar and Zevulen. The tribes are further laid out in orders of three. Three tribes in the east, three south, three west, three north. With the Levites then leaning towards the middle. This symbolizes each dwelling harmoniously in their camp, each tribe at peace with each other. The flags they originated from are a thing of the past, but their symbols remain enshrined in Jewish art and architecture.

Before we move on from addressing the actual text here, I would like us to take notice of one other important point that cannot be missed. We need to understand why these groups and tribes did not fall into isolation.

The answer is found in explaining why the tribes were matched with each other, three tribes placed at each side of the Israelite encampments. The tribes were purposely made to dwell with other tribes as part of a local community and unit. Sometimes the matches were clearly ideal, like Issachar and Zevulen – who according to Jewish tradition were historical partners in enterprise and learning (see “The Torah-Business Partnership” at Chabad.org). So at times we can see the tribes paired together according to their natural alliances.

Sure these groupings were often based on fraternal feelings, in the most literal sense. Example, the tribes born to mother Leah are all placed in the east and the south. Those tribes alloted inheritance through Yosef – including Ephraim and Menasheh – were encamped together, thus all the descendants of Rachel were placed in the west. As we can see, the tribes most often – but not always – were grouped to camp with those they were most related to.

But like all nations and communities, the people of Israel were not just a grouping of like people and families. No, they were a composite of naturally distinct people who were expected to come together as a unified people.

This is a good thought to have in mind as we consider the often sung words of the psalms, “Hineh mah tov umah naim, shevet achim gam yachad / Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!” (Psalm 133:1)

Though the individual tribes of Israel had their own distinct characteristics and autonomous camps, they were still united as one people. They dwelt not just as brothers among themselves in completely isolated communities, but also as extended brothers in unity as one complete nation – one united people. They are thus named Am Yisrael – the nation, or literally, the people of Israel.

So now that we got all the smart stuff out of the way, what does this all mean? And how do we actually feel about this?

Let’s really think about this here, and vent some of the natural criticism that us Jews have for this text.

We see the tribes abiding by their flags. Camped and grouped according to paternal line – but also by maternal lineage in division, each person and family among their own clan. Sure we agree that they dwelt harmoniously, thus enabling them to not just encamp in their formations but also move forward in their desert migration as a cohesive unit. But nonetheless, for most of us modern people, today most have a problem with a description of people dwelling in such communities, that by todays standards are quite restrictive. We have a problem with the appearance of segregation.

And even more so, many people have a problem with the suggestion of the scriptures and midrashic tradition praising vexillophilia – which is just a long word for the love of collecting and studying flags. Yet our texts seemingly does. Indeed our texts call the tribes to fashion them, after their own identity. And then to dwell by them, encamped by tribe underneath them. This does not sit well with many, be they progressive or orthodox.

Actually it’s interesting that I bring up the Breed Street Shul, mostly because I recently had an argument with a lifelong friend of mine after he started bemoaning the presence of the American and Israeli flags in that complex, which is today being used as a cultural center. It should be noted that the Breed Street Shul was the first location in Los Angeles to hoist the flag of the newly recognized State of Israel, upon the UN recognition of the Jewish state. The connection to the Zionist cause historically runs deep in this community. I felt the symbols to be wholly appropriate and historically accurate, in face of objections.

I heard what he was saying though. The arguments he made were familiar ones which are quite common among many young Jewish people today. His arguments were slightly modified versions of anti-Zionism and anti-Americanism, mixed with his own theoretical sense of universalism – as opposed to restrictive nationalism.

Of course, our conversation came to an impasse when I could not condone the disparaging of the democratic tradition of America and the State of Israel. And more specifically when I would not trash the flag, nor be bullied into decrying the local custom of showing such symbols in public meeting halls and houses of worship.

But I’ll tell you the truth, the conversation set off a different journey of self-exploration on how I feel about flags and nationalism. Being challenged on this topic by someone I know very well, he appealed to my natural character to be opposed to nationalism. As I have always been a most aggressive opponents to ethnic nationalism and racism. Often finding myself verbally and physically opposing racial discrimination wrapped in a flag. He had a point that has been pricking in my side ever since.

Especially in the past few weeks. My own conflict on how I feel about nationalistic symbolism and their appropriateness was displayed in my feelings over recent communal celebrations in the area, such as Cinco de Mayo and the Israel Day Festival. On one had, I feel cynical regarding the celebrating Cinco de Mayo here in the USA. [It could be possible that my ill sentiments of Cinco de Mayo festivals are most derived from my childhood experiences, from before the city shut them down because of the violence at places like Lincoln Park, events which were often marred by the venting of racist nationalism of the worst nature.] Yet at the same time I do tend to feel somewhat welcoming to the recognition of Israeli Independence Day when it comes around. You would think as a Mexican-American I would feel the other way around. Or at least be consistent, and be completely opposed to the recognition of either celebration in diaspora.

I’ll admit, the inconstancy is something that has perplexed even myself. Even as I waved my little Israeli flag at the festival. I really thought about what it meant to me, and how it might also appear to outsiders who cannot internalize my love and support for the Jewish state. How can I seem to essentially promote Jewish nationalism? Does this not appear to compromise my core values which oppose exclusivity, racism and xenophobia?

I let my mind and heart wrestle with this, in hopes of coming to peace with this. Hopefully before the Fourth of July rolled around and I found myself struggling with this topic yet again. Before I unfurl the American flag and again begin to struggle with similar nationalistic sentiments and conflicts.

There is no way to avoid a certain truth about employing such symbolisms. When people begin to wave flags, most often they are making clear nationalistic statements. And nationalism seems to almost naturally have a tendency to result in chauvinism, which further leads to racism and xenophobia.

Nationalism, while it’s aims seem honorable in seeking to establishing people-hood and the building up of sound nation-states, it can also be a used as a very dangerous force. Nationalism can become a divisive and restrictive force. Often setting up barriers between regions and peoples. This is because nationalism is concerned with my people and my country – mine and not yours. Nationalism most often displays itself through regional struggles for resources, and even in senseless expansionism. And in senseless exclusion and persecution of others, simply for not being part of your tribe or people. Because your needs don’t really matter as much as mine, I can’t help you if I can’t help myself. That is how nationalism translates in the minds of many.

So how do I intellectually justify my own feelings of nationalism? How do I justify my own pride in and love for my country? Why not decry these structures all together?

I justify my support of the state in the same manner everyone else before me has, simply because that is the way things are. For now, this is the only way things can be. And like most citizens, I identify with the values and virtues of my country. I also accept the fact that at times nations must rise up to give life to their unique virtues. Nations and people seem naturally intended to rise to prominence to actualize a dream, and once accomplished they fade into the background. Disappearing into the larger fabric of history. That is how most of us understand the nature of nationalism.

Simply put, I support and identify with the western democratic tradition of American and the State of Israel because their vision and dream is still in the making. They are both young counties, who have yet to accomplish their goals before retiring themselves to the history books.

But even this intellectual justification does not completely set my mind at ease. Because I cannot deny the reality that nationalism can be a harmful force in any country or people.

On the walls of the public housing near the entrance of the parking lot, facing Lorena near the corner of Olympic Blvd. Estrada Courts.

On the walls of the public housing near the entrance of the parking lot, facing Lorena near the corner of Olympic Blvd. Estrada Courts.

And this is probably where I’m going to upset everyone, but I must be honest. My own life experience, especially in light of the history of my community, makes me leery of nationalism.

Its well-known that I’ve traditionally been known to be an aggressive opponent of white nationalists – a.k.a. “skinheads,” but more precisely “white power” Nazi punks. Living my life in the punk rock scene it has been something that I have always had pushed in my face, naturally I’ve resisted and fought against such forces in the scene. In light of this it seems logical why I would so strongly oppose such things as ethnic nationalism. Because it’s an obvious offense to minorities such as myself.

But my opposition towards nationalism actually comes from somewhere closer to home. It is formed from my observations of nationalism gone awry in my own community – in the Latino community of Boyle Heights and East Los Angeles; with “brown power” neo-nationalism. This is how I can say any type of nationalism can go wrong, even among disadvantaged minorities. My distaste for nationalism comes from seeing its divisive employment in my own minority community – among Latinos.

This topic comes to mind again, as recently racial and nationalistic tensions are once again begun to surface within this predominately Latino community (demographically, the area is 98.9% Latino). Most recently in the firebombing of four pubic housing units occupied by African-American families. (for details, also see: “Ramona Gardens Firebombing has some black residents fleeing the area,” LA Times)

I’m also finding it hard to ignore the obvious racism and chauvinism that is also being shown even more increasingly in the way people discuss the topic of gentrification and urban-renewal, along with the “white people” and minorities this is expected to attract to our communities. In the face of a perceived threat, some Latino people are once again trying to rebuild 1970s style nationalist protest movements to show dominance in this area.

ChakaArtist

Here we are talking about tribal and national symbols. Let us reflected on the growing tensions in Boyle Heights, and really consider how intentionally divisive and racially charged ways art, murals and nationalist symbols have been utilized in the eastside. How they are purposely employed to intimidate others out other races and nationalties out of our vicinity. We really need to reflect on how and why we need to move beyond this racial extremism, exclusivity and cultural hegemony. Notice it didn’t take long for this most infamous of the local graffiti inspired artists to validate my claims and understanding of this rhetoric for all of us.

As people of other races move in to the area one can’t help notice the rush to cover everything with a Mexican flag, armed revolutionaries or the Virgin of Guadalupe increases. Joining outdated slogans like, “Viva la raza” (meaning, long live our race) and the like which still theme this area. This all sits really badly with me, and I’m not at all quiet about it.

I challenge people on this. How can we attempt at being an open community in Boyle Heights when we cover our public housing in those areas exclusively in nationalistic and racially charged Chicano art? And by constantly covering everything with a Mexican flag? It’s not that I’m opposed to our ethnic art and cultural symbols being expressed in public. But I ask my people to consider if we are not being foolish in hollowing throwbacks from the most radical points of the civil rights movement. Could it be that nationalistic excesses in this art is sending a message that all other races and nationalities are not welcome here? Would it not be better for us as we grow as a community to mature into more inclusive tones? Is it not time that our nationalistic sentiments finally retire themselves, as the greater society moves beyond the ethnic divisions?

I must begin to speak up, not just for my own community. But also out of concern and communal solidarity with the African-American communities who are being violently targeted and squeezed out of their historic neighborhoods in Los Angeles by nationalist Latino gangs. (see “Racial Hate Feeds a Gang War’s Senseless Killing” and “Attack on family in Compton latest incident in wave of anti-black violence”) On behalf of the concerned members of the Latino community, I challenge the embedding of nationalism into our communities, because it’s unwise and divisive.

This is especially relevant for our community here in Boyle Heights, just as much as it is in most other inner-city communities. In fact, the way our racial and ethnic problems is being played out on the eastside is being modeled elsewhere, as the gang lifestyle and themes export themselves from our neighborhoods to build syndicate gang franchises in the inner-cities across the country. Its essential we tackle this issue here, and now. (see “Ramona Gardens Overcomes Past,” for some background on local racist sentiments and those who are working to overcome it.)

I think it is also important for us Latinos to employ new symbols of pride, which are sensitive. As us Latino quickly become the majority by sheer demographic growth in this country many among us are talking about what the future of the country will look like in generations to come. But we need to do some really good thinking. We need to decide if we are going to embrace people-hood with the other tribes of this country, or if we are going pursue cultural chauvinism and dominion.

This is what is running through my mind as I read these words in the Torah portion for this week, “The children of Israel shall encamp with each person near the banner which has his paternal family’s insignia.” (Deut. 2:3)

When we read about this topic of each tribe camping under their flags and tribal symbols in the Torah, I don’t see it as just majestic and lovely. On paper it looks nice. But I can also see where in the practical world, this can all go very wrong. When the use of flags and symbols is used to divide and distinguish, and not just as a mere symbol of pride. But can we tell the difference? I think that’s the problem, that sometimes people cannot.

Yes, I have a problem with the way some people in my community brandish the Mexican flag. Furthermore, I don’t just passively accept people reviving talk of a Mexican-American claim to the southwest and the expectation of social entitlement. This is the view which is most often paired with Mexican neo-nationalism. Along with a message for outsiders to stay out because this is ours, we should not have to share resources. This is the message being sent by many who aggressively embed the Mexican flag in our area. For me, this is wholly inappropriate, I just cannot do it. I cannot promote this type chauvinism in my community. From this, I feel I must have to abstain.

So how do I find it possible to raise other kinds of flags? Is this not hypocritical of me?

One of the reasons I can hold the American flag high is because I am an American. It is right for me to show my love for my own country, and in my own land. I see no problem with nationalism when properly expressed within the context of that nation. And because I stand proud in my identity as an American, which is not defined by any one color. We are all immigrant people, a nation of mixed heritage. A patchwork of cultures is sewn into the fabric of this nation. This flag does not just represent a sole nation built through the pooling of people of the same culture regionally, but of the gathering of people of many different traditions and origins to become a more perfect union. It is a country build upon the coming together of many people who value liberty, freedom and the pursuit of happiness.

Likewise I can also proudly hold high the flag of the State of Israel. Because that flag is a symbol of the national aspirations of the Jewish people, who are not one color or specific race either. It is the flag of a state which is a refuge and home to Jews of many origins and ethnic backgrounds. It is the historic homeland and the modern refuge for many Jews, established through democratic and political realities. I can support and defend the fineness of that vision. I can show solidarity with this civilization grounded both in faith and culture; all of which is above color, race and national origins. A country which also promises full civil rights to all the various non-Jewish minorities – the people of the historic Arab, Muslim, Christian, Armenian, Druze communities – who also take shelter in her.

In their own merit, I feel both the flags of the United State of American and the State of Israel are two symbols, which when used in their proper spirit and place, can be used as symbols of inclusivity and diversity. I sincerely believe that these symbols still speak of national hopes which are above race and ethnicity. If only people would aspire to fulfill those values embodied therein.

Discussion: When do you feel that use of national flags and symbolisms become excessive and unsavory? Have you ever felt “anti-flag?”

Pictures of art from the Breed Street Shul, with correspondence chart:

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The following chart is an original creation, for a study I made on Jewish mysticism relating to the tribes and months. This at displays the corresponding meditative thoughts and sequences, taught by Lurianic Kabbalah. It also lays out the exact order for the different signs displayed on the walls of the shul:

This chart is an original creation, designed for a study I once did many years ago on Jewish mysticism – relating to the traditional meditations (kavannot) upon the tribes and months. This displays the corresponding meditative thoughts and sequences, taught by Lurianic Kabbalah (mysticism as explained by the Ari z”l). It conveniently lays out the exact order for the different symbols displayed on the walls of the shul, and the meditative elements which relate to them.

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Jewish Boyle Heights: The Past Meets the Future


Our tour of the Breed Street Shul and historic Boyle Heights

Of all the places in Los Angeles I enjoy, Boyle Heights is my favorite. It’s the place where I spend the most time by far. My closest friends were born and raised here, and being ever in their element this is my neighborhood by proxy. Not that I don’t have sentimental attachments myself, the roots of my family are dug deep in the community too. My grandmother often tells lovingly of her being born and growing up here. I also spent the formative years of my life here. I now live a few miles down the road, but as this is the historic core of the Latino community it’s the place to be. This is beating heart of my native Eastside.

Congregation Talmud Torah, Boyle Heights. The Breed Street Shul, built in 1923.

Now don’t think low of us if we often define Boyle Heights as part of the barrio, or even dubbing it a “hood.” The community is 98% Latino today, so when we use such terms it is more lovingly and endearingly. In truth, we think of Boyle Heights as the Bel Air of East LA. Interestingly because the community is not exactly unaware of its history. The residents, never are they slow on correcting people who disparage their immigrant rich neighborhood, pointing out that this was once home to a prominent immigrant Jewish community as well.

Once people find out that I’m Jewish (which doesn’t usually take so long, all I have to do is talk for a while), people automatically ask their next questions of me. “So you know about the synagogue, right? Have you seen it?” I’m not exaggerating when I say with all my best friends in town, our first outings were to walk in front and admire the glory of Congregation Talmud Torah – or as we all lovingly know it, the Breed Street Shul. To us it is the jewel of Boyle Heights.

Over the years I have gone through the neighborhood countless times talking with people about the Jewish past of this side of town, piecing together information from stories told by friends that grew up here. Stories from both my own Latino family, and from the memories of many of my Jewish friends whose parents and grandparents were raised in Boyle Heights as well.

The corner of First Steet and Breed Street

The corner of First Steet and Breed Street

Boyle Heights has always been diverse. Not just home to Mexican-Americans and Jews, this side of town was also home to sizable Japanese, Russian, Polish, Italian and German populations. This was especially a heaven for people who weren’t allowed to buy land in other parts of the city, a fact few are aware of today.

My Hispanic grandmother talks of her grandparents doing business in trade and real estate with the Jewish families in the neighborhood, and also of her being named after the family’s sweet German housemaid. This is a side of town in which diverse segments of new immigrants became upwardly mobile.

Until recent years, when people have spoken of the Jews of Boyle Heights, it has mostly been in the past tense. The Jewish community which once thrived here has long since moved away. As the buildings which once served Jews are being reused to serve different minority communities now, the Breed Street Shul is widely considered the last link to the rich and interesting history of the Jewish residents of yesteryear.

It should be quickly noted that the neighborhood still holds many treasures to explore. But few of us locals are old enough, or have good enough memories, to really remember the locations of most things except vaguely. My friends and I have always wanted a chance to be led by people who know the way. And a couple of weeks ago we got that chance of a lifetime.

The Breed Street Shul, March 2014On a Sunday morning my friend Zero-Renton and I show up at the Breed Street Shul, drawn by an online posting and a buzz in the local synagogues. For a forum titled, “Boyle Heights Heroes: Conversations with Local Luminaries.” A discussion panel on what growing up in Boyle Heights meant to a few people, from both the Jewish and Latino communities.

We arrived early to see the gates of the shul open for once and a stream of mostly older people and their families. There was just a handful of younger people, two of them being these weird punk rockers; my friend and I. Greeted warmly we were asked if we wanted to go on a bus tour of the neighborhood. That day a bus ride had been graciously donated by the office of Los Angeles City Councilman Jose Huizar, for an hour-long bus tour to explore the area’s Jewish past.

People lining up to board for a bus tour of the historic Jewish Boyle Heights

People lining up to board for a bus tour of the historic Jewish Boyle Heights

No sooner were we in the bus and on our way when the President of the Breed Street Project Steven J. Sass began to brightly and frantically point out the sites to see along the way, asking different people to give their memories and connection to the site.

I have to say this was an unexpected and thrilling experience. You see, my friend and I are used to walking these streets. This is what we see everyday, the streets and buildings we far too often rush past without a thought. We consider it our home, we aren’t sight seers.

But neither is this group. No sooner does the bus roll in front of a location when the crowd excitedly yells out the name of what it used to be. People lovingly pointing out the details of each block as we pass. Their sense of excitement leaves both of us stunned, and their familiarity has us taking lessons.

It was truly impressive to have people briefly tell us about the sites of the former schools, hospitals, the history and legacy of the Los Angeles Jewish Home. The sites of the former community centers. The old synagogues, and the locations of the varied minyans (prayer quorums) throughout the neighborhoods.

Interior of the Breed Street Shul in her glory days

Interior of the Breed Street Shul in her glory days

But there was something that especially compelling about the guided tour. We were presented with a picture of the diversity of this old community. We got to see the truth that there wasn’t just one type of Jew here. We were impressed to hear some details of the varied social and political happenings of those days. The philanthropy and the activism started in that community, some of which people still benefit from today.

And it was even more illuminating because we got to revisit the obvious neighborhood sites to us, but hear people talk about them in ways that we have never heard before. Places we know very intimately, we got to hear people share their memories about them. And enrich them with something old to remember, but new for us to consider.

We got to imagine the smells of latkes in the hall of Hollenbeck Park and the picture of people doing tashlich at the water, with people who lived it. Simple flashes of memories which will forever change the way we see our favorite duck pond. I got to sit next to Zero-Renton on the bus, in front of Roosevelt High School, his own alma mater and hear people talk about their memories of going to school there.

Vandalism before the restoration of the beit midrash

Vandalism before the restoration of the beit midrash

And we got to hear a bit about the challenges of those days and the roles which race and war played in those neighborhoods, especially for the mistreated Japanese whose internment during WWII emotionally scars some to this day.

The bus tour was just an hour-long, and being rushed we were assured we got just a taste. Now I have to tell you, I normally do my best to keep up on the journalistic details. But this was such a unique and awesome experience, I was simply too excited to take notes or even have the good sense to take more pictures. But we were stunned. Just dumbfounded by how much we learned in one hour. And the main presentation hadn’t even started yet!

The panel was presented in the restored back hall of the shul. The group, titled “Boyle Heights Heroes: Conversations with Local Luminaries,” was moderated by Professor George Sanchez of the USC. The panel included notable guests Annette Shapiro, Daniel Hernandez, Donna Bojarsky and Gershon Lewis.

The talks that were given were invaluable, because the presenters really opened up about the people who once lived thrived here. And how starting from here, their loved ones built a legacy of social consciousness which still guides them in their pursuits.

All four guests brought something special to the table:

Annette Shapiro. For those of us in the wider Jewish community, she needs no introduction. One can’t help but be amazed by her philanthropic and loving personal involvement in the needs of the Jewish community, including the Beit T’Shuvah addiction treatment center. She can be found everywhere there is a Jewish or health and wellness cause. A legacy of community service she credits to her family. Among the notable family members of the Boyle Heights community is her grandfather of David Familian – of blessed memory – who served as president of the Breed Street Shul.

David Hernandez. He grew up in Boyle Heights facing all the various challenges of Latino youth, and today he is still facing them but now as the CEO of the Hollenbeck Youth Center. The youth center helps provide many programs which meet the need of the youth and teens in this densely populated and often harsh side of town. He presents us with a much-needed picture of the Latino community, his story being very common in that his experiences have been greatly influenced by his service in the US Armed Forces. Service to ones country, to this day it is still the only way many in our community can ever hope to afford a college education.

Donna Bojarsky. Her father Sol – of blessed memory – was a native of Boyle Heights and celebrated his bar mitzvah at the Breed Street Shul. She brought in tow his delicate little siddur which was presented to him at that time. Donna is a political consultant and active in various community forums. Among them being civic training programs for young Jewish leaders. She is also executive director of KCET’s Mosaic series, a program which gives a fresh and unique look at the diverse communities of Los Angeles.

Gershon Lewis. Now he has to be one of the most interesting people I have ever met. So much could be said about him from his success in his service in the army, business, finance and politics. However, to me he is most impressive as a native Eastsider and Roosevelt High School student, and leader among the Wabash Saxons. The Saxons started in the 1930s, organized by youth from Roosevelt and the other local youth centers. Among their aims and goals, raising money to fund the youth activities of Boyle Heights. He will once again be present to chair the upcoming Wabash Saxons reunion in June 2014.

After the presentation we took extra time exploring the back hall. It was filled presentations of the disrepair and vandalism which once covered the buildings, and commendations earned in the past 15 years of step-by-step preservation efforts. The start of a multi-layered restoration project to revive the entire facility for future active uses. A cultural center for the Jewish, Latino and the various minority communities.

To all involved, we have to say thank you! We are both grateful for this opportunity, and hope to visit with you again.

The restored beit midrash

The restored beit midrash

We also hope for more panel discussions. This type of talk was important not just for me but also for my friend Zero-Renton, who came along. Under the tattoos, leather and colored hair, is a person who tirelessly works for fair housing in Los Angeles. Assisting people at the Housing Rights Center, which works to enforce the Fair Housing Act. In his work he daily faces the challenges of the most needy in our community, and also most vividly sees the consequences of gentrification on the poorest sectors.

We all wonder, what is going to be the next demographic shift in Boyle Heights? We all worry about the future of our historic neighborhoods in which most of us have lived for generations, which are now getting settled by urban hipsters without children. People’s whose needs and means are vastly differently from our own.

In some ways this presentation puts us at ease, helping us realize that our town is just going through its own natural cycle. This was a side of town started by the working class of some means, the Latino community moved in the void left as Jews migrated to the westside. But now these decades later the white middle-class is returning in modest, but growing numbers. We might just have to accept much of this as being part of the the natural growth cycle.

But the questions remains for all of us who love and are dedicated to staying in the Eastside: What is the future for our community, what can we do to enhance and fortify the integrity of our resources as things begin their almost inevitable transition? As properties such as the historic Sears building with over 4.5-million gross square feet of space have been purchased to make way for a multi-use, loft based community, we cannot ignore this much longer. Even public housing is being subjected to urban renewal. Change is undoubtedly coming.

As president Steven J. Sass had to point out several times, the Jewish community in Boyle Heights fell apart because of a series of bad decisions, which together were terminal for the integrity of their once thriving district. The institutional hopes of consolidating and pooling resources led to their eventual collapse. Which further sped up the exodus to neighborhoods with more resources.

Even as I gazed at the exterior of the building which housed the main sanctuary many people reiterated this point to me. That the resources dried up, the people had to move out of necessity. Some were left shaking their heads, blaming themselves for quitting the community. Others a bit pessimistically point out their own truth, that there was also some racial and gang related issues which they regretted. Issues not unlike those we face today. Our side of town is still notorious for those problems to this day, and admittedly it’s much worse today as us Latinos have grown more insular and less accepting of other minorities moving in. This all comes as a social challenge which still very much needs to be addressed.

With all the challenges, the locals are optimistic. And we do see our future being here in Boyle Heights. And we also envision a glorious future for the Breed Street Shul.

Now a lot of the reason why Eastsiders see the Breed Street Shul as important is not just because it was important to the Jews who once lived here. We envision this as the site of where the new Jews of the Eastside will one day celebrate and worship. Not just Jews who will move this way with urban planning. But also for the Latino Jews of east Los Angeles. We want yidden coming back to Boyle Heights, to be greeted by a community of Latino Jews as well.

Latino Jews, we are a community that is growing as many convert to Judaism or discover their own historical roots to Judaism. When I was younger I was one of the only practicing Jewish Mexican-Americans in the area. Today you will find many locals from the area scatted in the synagogues throughout the San Gabriel valley, in shuls which often sport liturgy and services in Spanish.

For the Latino Jews of east Los Angeles, the Breed Steet Shul speaks of a Jewish future here which we too embrace. We also have a vision, of a vibrant Jewish community in which we are an integral part of as well.

The restoration of the main building, which houses the sanctuary

The restoration of the main building, which houses the sanctuary

So for people like me, the Breed Street Shul is important not just because I’m a Jew and this is part of Jewish history, but because I’m a Latino Jew and this is part of our future. Whereas in the past Jews and Latinos were often different sides of the coin in this community, now we are blending together. Today Jews of many different ethnicities are scattered around here, and I think we all tend to see the shul as a heritage and legacy we want to be part of. We are all enthusiastic about her, because this shul has something which charmingly brings us together.

And for the non-Jewish residents of the neighborhood it is also important that this be restored. In order to restore the pride of the community, to stand as a testament of an honorable and impressive past.

For people like my friends and their families. To serve as community center for the residents, so that the glorious halls are filled with celebrations again. And as a meeting and rallying spot for political and social activism, as it has been ever since it was made a national historical landmark by the Clinton administration in 1998. A notable event for the community, which drew First Lady Hillary Clinton herself. Now more recently the shul has even come to draw the entertainment community as well. Latinos also have a lot of reasons to need the “Queen of Synagogues” restored. People see a lot of promise in her.

As we left walking up the block on a stroll toward Brooklyn – excuse me Avenida Cesar Chavez, a slip that true locals don’t make by accident, Latino or Jewish we all still say it – we just grinned and sighed as we passed. Overwhelmed with the amazing stories we had heard.

Boyle Heights muralAs we wandered Gershon Lewis came and walked with us down a couple blocks for a bit. I got to express my thanks for his story and also for inspiring me with his example of community service. And I expressed how grateful we both were, Zero-Renton and I, because we don’t really get the chance to have a meeting of the generations in this way ordinarily. So we are willing to listen.

I asked him how us Latinos who are here now, how we can learn some of the spirit of social service that this side of town needs more than ever. What can we learn to build our own legacy. He pats me on the shoulder and says I need to come for the Wabash Saxons banquet and learn how it’s done.

He chatted with me about how many people talk about how much they love their Boyle Heights, yet few come. That it was nice for him to see a good crowd for a change. I joked with him, “Well, if I think about it, I also know enough local Latino Jews to bring together a minyan sometime. I can bring the party and a Sefer Torah (Torah Scroll) if necessary.” Gershon laughed and shook my hand in delight, encouraging me to bring it on.

Tzedakah Opportunity: This Breed Street Shul Project is only in the first stages of the site’s restoration. While the back hall, the former beit midrash behind the large shul, has been beautifully restored the rest of the property is still in the early stages of renovation. The project has made great strides, such as bringing a ramp for disabled access to the hall, a first for this old site. At the same time they are still greatly challenged with having to remedy drainage issues which were never properly addressed before.

The project hopes to make this open house and discussion a part of a series. I think many of you will agree that these presentations and tours are an invaluable way to bring people together. We really need more people from the community to have the chance to learn about their neighborhood’s colorful history as well.

If this is something that you find meaningful. If you care about this heritage, and the future of Boyle Heights. If you would like to see more of these events. If you want to encourage more dialogue between the Latino and Jewish communities. If you want to help make the revivification a success, I urge you to donate to this project today:

BREED STREET SHUL PROJECT
PO Box 33411
Los Angeles, CA 90033-2902
 

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About the Author: Welcome to Hardcore Mesorah! My name is Shmueli Gonzales, and I am a writer and religious commentator from Los Angeles, California. As a blog writer, I enjoy talking about the challenging topics of Torah and Jewish life. Weekly I take an in-depth look into the weekly Torah portion. I also tackle topics of personal struggle as learned through my current struggle with HIV/AIDS. I also dedicate the focus of my work to displaying the cultural diversity within Judaism, often exploring the characteristics and unappreciated values of Chassidic and Sephardic Judaism. Among my various projects I also produce classical liturgical and halachic texts for free and open-source redistribution.

More pictures from the shul:

The face and the black metal doors which guard her

The face and the black metal doors which guard her

Looking at the side of the main building, toward Breed Street

Looking at the side of the main building, toward Breed Street

The restored Aron haKodesh - the ark for the Torah scrolls. The murals also senselessly restored. It shows tablets of the Ten Commandents. Above is the words "Shivit Hashem Negedi Tadmi" which means "I will place [the name of'] the Lord before me at all times."

The restored Aron haKodesh – the ark for the Torah scrolls. The murals also seamlessly restored. It shows tablets of the Ten Commandents. Above is the words “Shivit Hashem L’Negedi Tamid” which means “I will place [the name of’] the Lord before me at all times.” Below is a depiction of the priestly blessing by the kohanim. The words “Keter  Torah” accompany the depicting picture of a crown for the Torah

On each side of this artistic display are two depictions of candelabras. This one says "Torah Ohr," or "The Light of Torah." The matching one says "Ner mitzvah," calling to mind the ritual lights of the sabbath and festival days.

On each side of this artistic display are two depictions of candelabras. This one says “Torah Ohr,” or “The Light of Torah.” The matching one says “Ner mitzvah,” calling to mind the ritual lights of the sabbath and festival days.

This says "HaRav" on it, so it must have been the rabbi's shtender - the personal stand from which he would pray or read.

This says “HaRav” on it, so it must have been the rabbi’s shtender – the personal stand from which he would pray or read.

Pictures from the neighborhood tour. This is Congregation B’nei Jacob on Fairmont street, originally a modern Orthodox synagogue. Today it is a church:

Congregation B'nei Jacob

Congregation B’nei Jacob the front doors to the main sanctuary

The side building of the Fairmont Street shul, looking towards Evergreen

Congregation B’nei Jacob – Est. Aug, 14, 1927

The Ten Commandments still hang above the main entrance. This is one of few former shuls which still has remaining remnants of it’s Jewish past after being converted.

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