America isn’t in lockdown, but widespread Covid cases are prompting businesses to shut, events to cancel, and Americans to stay home.
A voluntary suspension of activity—a soft lockdown, essentially—will help dampen transmission of the coronavirus. This happened all over the country in spring 2020, when people began staying at home before official stay-at-home orders came down…
The Netherlands’ lockdown stands as a warning to the United States, other European countries and Covid hot spots across the globe… The warning is about policy failures…
Biden is trying to urge people to take precautions, but his speech on Tuesday represented a shift from earlier messaging. No longer is he endorsing strict mitigation measures, such as nonessential business closures, and the concept of social distancing is hardly mentioned.
Democrats are accusing Senator Joe Manchin of putting American children in danger by refusing to support Biden’s “Build Back Better” social spending bill.
Manchin might care more about his business donors and richer constituents than he does poor children. But even for those interests, the demise of the child tax credit would be painful.
His announcement that he will not support the Build Back Better Act will terminate [child tax credit payments], which vulnerable families were counting on to help support themselves next year.
Democrats are in recrimination mode after the implosion of their multi-trillion-dollar spending bill, and one dishonest narrative is that West Virginia Sen. Joe Manchin is callous about child poverty… He has no reason to apologize for asking that a bill to transform America be subject to regular Congressional order.
A deal to implement a more egalitarian and pluralistic space at the Western Wall (Kotel) plaza in Jerusalem has been shelved by the Bennett government.
There is no reason to change the status quo, however, which has worked reasonably well for 54 years… Jewish law must always be the basis for prayer there.
As tensions continue to rise around the Kotel issue, it is very disheartening that the government appears to have capitulated once again to Israeli society’s most extreme voices instead of standing up to them.
…by not implementing the compromise, we are saying to many of our brothers and sisters, especially in the Diaspora, that they have no place among us at one of the holiest and historically central points to the Jewish People on earth.
Here are three takes on what it means to have Jewish pride in 2021:
I’m a proud Jew because I belong to an extraordinary people with a tradition that has sustained us for thousands of years. It is that very existence, that sense of belonging to something remarkable, that is the deepest source of my unconditional pride.
Every time I see a Goldberg, or a Cohen, or a Something-man in the credits of a critically acclaimed TV show, my heart swells with pride. The massive accomplishments of Jews never fails to blow my mind, considering how relatively few of us there are on the planet.
Eventually I went through a conversion process and have been a practising Jew. There are struggles that accompany someone with my identity – such as racism, rejection and anti-Semitism… but I also have a deep sense of pride in the path I have chosen.
In Paul Thomas Anderson’s latest film, “Licorice Pizza,” Alana Haim stars as the daughter of Jewish and Israeli parents in California in the 70s.
Instead of using Jews as figures of mocking or villainy, “Licorice Pizza” weaponizes the family’s American-Israeli roots with guts, integrity and pride.
I already knew Alana and her family were Jewish. But walking out of an almost sold out screening in New York City, I was still surprised by how much the story resonated with me as a Jewish narrative that provides representation for Ashkenazi women in the United States.
Anderson, who directed Haim’s eponymous sister act band in the past and was an art student of their mother, Donna, is not just doing a drive-by ethnography. He understands how Jewishness has been commodified by Hollywood and remains a major source of insecurity, particularly among young women.
Last week, California lost one of its most beloved writers and its most unflinching observers when Joan Didion passed away at the age of 87.
I remain in awe of her meticulous unmasking of polite society, her magisterial scope of California history, her prescient inclusion of the anti-immigrant politics that went on to dictate the state’s political life through the rest of the 1990s.
Didion loved explaining how Hollywood works. “The place makes everyone a gambler,” she wrote. “Its spirit is speedy, obsessive, immaterial. The action itself is the art form.”
Joan’s death at age 87 leaves a gaping hole in the landscape of California letters. There really was no one like her. She was, in a way, the least Californian of our state’s writers, if by “Californian” we mean ever-sunny, full of optimism, wed to the conceit that history is weightless.