Published: 22 September 2020
Last updated: 4 March 2024
How has the pandemic impacted Jewish life? Some reflections.
Anecdotally: A Jewish professional in his twenties tells me he was on a masked walk with a fifty-something member of his shul. His walking companion tells him Judaism died during this crisis.
Counterpoint: My mother is in her sixties and a retired academic. Though married to a former headmaster of Melbourne’s Mount Scopus College and parent of a former CEO of the Jewish Museum of Australia, she has never been one for much personal engagement with Jewish religious or cultural life. Throughout the pandemic, however, she has Zoomed into lectures, panel discussions, virtual walking tours of Jewish neighbourhoods in New York – programs and events she would never normally attend “in real life”.
Parenthetically (just a Jewish mother shepping naches): My three-year-old joining my six-year-old every morning at our kitchen table for his prep Hebrew class via distance learning. By mid-way through Melbourne’s Stage 4 lockdowns, both know the Hebrew alphabet, sing along with Elmo and Cookie Monster about the word of the week, and model Hebrew letters in blocks and home-made playdough.
There have, of course, been many negative impacts for our community – the social isolation, the jobs lost, the increase in domestic violence, the strain on social services, the havoc wreaked on education. The 100th birthday celebrated in an aged care residence with grandchildren and great-grandchildren behind a glass wall. The recitation of Kaddish in isolation, with a minyan only on the screen of a phone. And of course, the virus itself – those who have become sick, those who have died.
Yet, as is so often the case, crisis brings out the best of our humanity and sense of mutual responsibility. I have been deeply moved to see the rallying of our community behind the Jewish Response - Coronavirus Facebook group initiated by Stand Up, the offering of support and services to meet every need imaginable – cooked meals and groceries for those in crisis, pharmacy supplies, career counselling for the suddenly unemployed, support for parents home-schooling their children, or a simple phone call to check in.
Similarly, I’ve been blown away by the explosion of online programming and events in the Jewish community. Organisations usually dependent on “bums on seats” have adapted swiftly. And while there is no comparison to the energy and community that comes from being in a room together, there are definite advantages – for both organisations and participants – to the now ubiquitous model of online engagement.
Audiences have grown, in some cases exponentially. There are no geographic boundaries for presenters or attendees. There are no venue hire fees, catering or logistical costs, though moderating the chat box on Zoom can present challenges.
Parents can put young kids to bed and still be “at” an event that starts at 7.30pm. Events are accessible to the elderly who may prefer not to go out at night, and to the disabled. Even those who, despite a strong interest in the educational and cultural offerings, cannot bring themselves to go out again after a long day at work, can easily Zoom in.
Anecdotally, participant feedback suggests that the experience and outcomes for participants in online programs and events is almost identical, even though presenters find the experience less satisfying. There is also, of course, the challenge of monetising these events.
With so much competition and free content, organisations would find it hard to justify charging a fee. But as the pandemic goes on for longer than first anticipated, this, too, will become the “new normal”.
Throughout Jewish history, tragedy and disruption have never got the better of us. In fact, quite the opposite – they have been the triggers of great creativity and adaptive change. So, too, with this crisis. We can’t yet know which changes will be fleeting and which will stay with us for ever.
My hunch is that online Jewish events are here to stay, even when large-scale gatherings become possible again. One thing is for certain – we are living through a unique and momentous historical moment.
As a former museum curator, one of the questions I have been asking myself is: what are the artefacts of this moment in time? What can we capture and document as a record of our experience so we can understand, interpret and reminisce in the future?
I am drawn to the ephemera of Jewish family and communal life from the pandemic: the advertisements for events, the email communications, the signs, the social media posts, the Facebook live events and the memes – even more ephemeral than usual because of their uniquely digital existence.
Though not often considered of great historical significance, these ephemera express and are testament to our despair and joy, sadness and humour, adaptability and resilience, determination and creativity – both as individuals and as a community.
Together with my colleagues at the Australian Centre for Jewish Civilisation, I am working to create an online archive to document the Melbourne Jewish community’s experience of Covid-19.
The archive is part of a global project instigated by historians at Arizona State University. It’s called Journal of the Plague Year, after the novel by Daniel Defoe set during the bubonic plague in London.
We’re inviting members of the community and organisations to contribute and are looking forward to seeing the picture that emerges.
Contribute to the Jewish Melbourne COVID-19 Archive
Illustration: Avi Katz
