On a Monday morning in July,
1999, Brian David was called to the Torah to celebrate his bar mitzvah
in Utterson, Ontario. On hand were Brian's parents, two sisters,
brother, and family friends, as well as almost 600 of his closest
friends—the campers and staff of Camp Ramah in Canada.
This is how Brian David's bar
mitzvah might have been announced in the society pages of a
local newspaper. But while giving the facts, this announcement would
omit the really interesting details. It leaves out the
resonance
that Brian's recitation of the Vrakhot elicited for his family
and an entire camp community. I would like to share some of those
details and how this remarkable young man's bar mitzvah
affected the lives of others.
Brian is 21 years old and has
Downs Syndrome. He is unable to read and cannot write much more than
his name. He has a mild hearing loss and a severe articulation
disorder. As a result, Brian is able to speak only in short phrases
which are not understandable to the uninitiated. He can be
exasperatingly stubborn. But Brian has a smile so warm that it could
melt even Pharaoh's heart. His selflessness and love of Judaism rival
that of Hillel. When he hugs you, you just know that everything is
going to be all right. Brian has a crush on all of the Spice Girls. He
loves playing the guitar as much as taking his siddur to pray.
Tikvah
Canada is one of four similar programs sponsored by the Ramah Camps
providing children with disabilities the opportunity to participate in
a Jewish camping experience with their peers. While Tikvah
campers enjoy the usual swimming, hiking, sports, arts and crafts,
they also attend daily services, study Hebrew and learn Jewish
customs. Perhaps most importantly, they are also fully accepted
members of a kehilla (Community) of Jewish children,
adolescents and adults, an acceptance which they may not enjoy at
home.
Brian has been part of Tikvah
since its inception eight years ago. Ramah is now in his blood. Each
year, he begins packing at least a month before camp and watches his
Ramah videos over and over in order to relive his experiences and to
tide himself over until the next season.
Today, Brian’s family are
committed supporters of both Tikvah and Ramah, but this was not
always the case. It took a great deal of encouragement to convince
them that Ramah would be the right place for their son. This is how
Brian’s mother described her feelings:
At
the beginning, I was skeptical about sending Brian to Ramah. His
English was less than articulate, his Hebrew non-existent, and no
one could care for him the way his doting family did. But after his
very first season, camp became his other home and the focus of both
his Jewish life and of his independence from parents and siblings.
You
can’t imagine how we, his family, feel on visiting day when Brian
schleps us around to meet his other family and, even more so, when
kids come up to meet us just because we are Brian’s family.
When
Brian turned 13, our rabbi had advised us that since he did not
understand the concept of prayer, he did not need a bar mitzvah.
I had not wanted my son to be the recipient of sympathetic stares at
a "special" service in a synagogue, so the only people who
celebrated at that time were his family. But now that he had a
community of his own, with a congregation that welcomes him just as
he is, we decided to have a bar mitzvah where Brian is both
loved and respected.
The
Davids first approached me about having Brian’s bar mitzvah
at camp some time during the winter. Both Rabbi Cohen, the camp
director, and I thought it a wonderful idea. We were grateful that
they had chosen to honor us with this privilege. Since, over the
years, most of the camp had been touched by Brian, the family invited
everyone to the celebration. Brian spent the winter practicing the b’rakhot
with his father, Lee.
Once
at camp, Brian’s practice sessions continued with his counselor.
Just like any other bar mitzvah student, Brian’s motivation
varied from day to day. But he was always encouraged by his fellow
campers who got into the act by making invitations. As the day got
closer, we worked out all of the details for the first camp-wide bar
mitzvah. A special kiddush was prepared, honors assigned,
musicians scheduled, and a special dance with a deejay and Spice Girls
music arranged.
Despite
being visibly nervous on the day before, Brian awoke early on Monday
morning, roused his fellow campers and staff and hurried to the social
hall to put on his t’fillin and receive his new tallit
from his parents. Brian and his Tikvah friends all wore
matching shirts provided by his family. The entire camp filed into the
gym and the service began.
Brian
had several roles. First, with the assistance of one of his
counselors, he sang and "signed" Oseh Shalom. Then he
carefully and lovingly lifted the Torah out of the ark, and with a
sister on either side, carried it around the room. Finally, with much
fanfare, Brian was called to the Torah for his aliyah. Together
with his father, he recited the Hebrew blessings both before and after
the reading.
The
other Tikvah campers helped their friend throughout the
service, loudly joining in singing the prayers. Solomon conducted the
Torah service with a beautiful sweet voice and surprised us all with a
choral selection he had learned at his home synagogue. Carrie, who
also has Downs Syndrome, did the entire Torah reading. Debbie helped
conclude the service with a orchestral version of Adon Olam.
Everyone joined in the davening, dancing and singing, during and after
the service.
Brian’s
joy in his accomplishments was as great as, or greater, than that of
any bar/bat mitzvah child called up for his or her first alliyah.
But the effect this event had on those in the room was extraordinary.
I
can’t tell you the pride, joy and gratitude we all felt. Brian was
so thrilled that he almost burst. In between some serious davening,
he blew kisses to his fans, raised his t’fillin-wrapped arm
in a two-fingered salute, shook hands, and accepted congratulations
somewhere between an accomplished bar mitzvah boy and a Hollywood
celebrity! The whole camp cheered in one voice when he succeeded in
articulating his solos.
I
never thought I would say this, but my son is happier in some place
other than home. It is quite miraculous when "potential"
becomes a word in the present tense. For a few hours, we really felt
the meaning of true inclusiveness. When we left Ramah, we knew it
was possible for Brian to be not just a man, but a mensch, in
his own community.
Now,
Brian keeps his camp siddur either under his pillow or on his
night table. He carefully takes it out, puts on his t’fillin
and wraps himself in his tallit with a rapturous look on his
face.
The
staff and other campers were touched in ways we could not have
anticipated. Hundreds of people spontaneously wished Brian mazel
tov and dozens of campers and staff presented him with home-made
congratulatory cards. More people than I can remember came up to tell
me of the tears of joy that had flowed down their cheeks during the
service.
Another parent wrote of her
children’s response to Brian’s bar mitzvah:
I have to tell you that
Brian David’s bar mitzvah had an amazing impact on my
children. They did not write very often from camp, but the letters
after the bar mitzvah were very touching and it was the very
first thing they talked about on the way home. As my son studies for
his own bar mitzvah, he realizes how much is involved and how
special it was for Brian.
Brian’s bar mitzvah is
over and camp has closed on its second season since that wonderful
day. Brian, like his fellow campers, still recalls the events of that
special summer. The power of Brian’s song remains strong and
continues to affect others who hear of it or read of it on the
Internet or in local papers. It is not often that the actions of one
person can so positively influence so many people.
What most stood out for my
son was the comment Brian’s mom made about his not having had a
bar mitzvah at 13 because their rabbi felt he couldn’t do anything
to warrant becoming a bar mitzvah. My son found this quite
unbelievable. He thinks everyone should have the opportunity to have
a bar/bat mitzvah regardless of any disability. It is the
best lesson for our kids to learn about diversity and tolerance for
everyone, especially for kids and young adults who might not be as
fortunate as they.
There are currently four Tikvah
programs, each serving the needs of children with developmental
disabilities. They are in the Ramah Camps in Canada, California,
Wisconsin, and Massachusetts. Information can be accessed through the
Ramah website at www.campramah.org
or by calling the National Ramah Office at 212-678-8881.
Mitchell S. Parker, Ph.D. is
director of the Tikvah Program, Camp Ramah in Canada, and
Director of Special Needs, Hillel Day School of Metropolitan Detroit.