NU is made possible in part by a grant from The Herb and Milly Iris Youth and Family

Philanthropy Endowment Fund of the Jewish Community Foundation of Greater MetroWest NJ

MAY 19, 2016 nu FRESH iDEAS FROM GARDEN STATE TEENS

Anna Baitel, 15, attends Watchung Hills Regional High School.

Phoebe Brenner, 17, is a junior at Randolph High School. She enjoys competitive cheerleading, dancing, and tumbling. She also likes to travel to new places.

Desi Brower, 16, attends Livingston High School. She loves sports, school, speaking Chinese, and spending time with family and friends.

Melinda Fern, 15, attends Livingston High School.

Samantha Fern, 17, is a junior at Livingston High School. She is an avid volleyball player. She also enjoys hanging out with her friends, science, and listening to music.

Danny Hubert, 14, attends Heritage Middle School in Livingston and is an avid sports fan.

Danielle Koslow, 17, attends Watchung Hills Regional High School and is an awardee of the Scholastic Gold Key for her poetry.

Sophie Loesberg, 16, attends The Pingry School where she enjoys taking classes in photography.

Sydney Luks, 16, attends the Holmstead School. She enjoys writing, singing, and being social.

Naomi Meininger, 13, attends Tenakill Middle School. She recently won the Silver Key at the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards for her poetry.

Olivia Virginia Meyers is a freshman at Randolph High School. She loves creating art and participates in many school sports and clubs, such as Key, Bridge, and BBYO.

Kimberly Robins is a contributing writer.

Jordyn Zitman is a junior at Watchung Hills Regional High School and is an avid poet.

2 nu May 2016

A few yeArs back, New Jersey Jewish News approached Milly Iris with an idea. we knew that she cared deeply about the next genera-tion of community leaders and that she under-stood that to build Jewish community you had to begin with its youngest members, giving them the solid foundation from which Jewish commitment and responsibility will grow.

A peerless planner and first-class visionary, Milly Iris was a creative force behind the abun-dant generosity of her husband, Herb Iris. Together, the two role models not only made a difference, but inspired those around them by example.

Although Herb passed away in 2006, and Milly passed away in 2014, the Iris family’s legacy lives on in the Herb and Milly Iris youth and family Philanthropy endowment fund of the Jewish Community foundation of Greater Metrowest NJ, founded in 2006 shortly after Herb’s death. The fund’s mission is to focus on programs, like the Iris Teen Tzedakah Pro-gram, that invite young people as partners in building Jewish community.

Nu is a recipient of the endowment’s gener-osity, but more importantly, the magazine is a beneficiary of Milly and Herb Iris’s dream for the future. It is a fitting legacy that the Iris endowment supports passionate Jewish teen writers, who dedicate their time and consider-able talent to sharing their thoughts and ideas for their generation and our community.

Little wonder that Milly and Herb Iris’s daugh-ters, roree Iris-williams and Kerry Iris, con-tinue to memorialize their parents by investing in the future of young people so that they learn the responsibility, and the art, of giving back.

for Milly and Herb Iris, giving back was a way of life. nu

may 19, 2016

kristin V. byrneProject Manager

kristin PenaProject Editor

Michelle PetrilloSenior Graphic Designer

rick kestenbaUMCOO/General Manager

abby Meth kanterExecutive Editor

Patricia r. roGersPublication Operations Director

CONTRIBUTORS

INSIDE

The enduring

legacy of an

incredible Team

My early glimpse at Judaism 3Springtime in Italy 4A beautiful day for a hike 5An American in China 6Saving the world, one millennial at a time 7My thoughts on God 8A letter to my grandpa 9Photography 10Making our voices heard 11

Mother 12Insecurities 12‘Dolls’ 13Unlucky clover 13The cage 13The Sick Kid’s Burden 14‘facebook’ 15How to hate 15

3 nu May 2016

Samantha Fern

T he familiar feeling of slipping on my mauve velvet dress and having mommy pull up my thick white stockings let me

know that it was time to go to temple once again. After picking out my fanciest little purse (to be filled with toys and bobby pins to keep me occupied) and having daddy fas-ten the clasp on my treasured gold necklace, I was ready to head to synagogue. I had no real understanding of what went on in that tall holy room. I just knew that daddy had to wear a white blanket on his shoulders and I had to be quiet.

Focusing my attention on the large stage where the important people were (I later learned that the words I was looking for were bima and rabbis), I couldn’t help but realize I

had no idea what the congregation was chant-ing. Wait a second, this isn’t the language that I speak! “Y’hei shmei rabah m’varach, l’olam u’lalmei olmaya!” Maya? Why are they saying my friend’s name? Some of the words sounded guttural and harsh mixed with light and airy words that floated off the rabbi’s tongue. Listening to Hebrew was like listen-ing to a song with a familiar tune but not being able to understand the lyrics.

On the front wall behind two tower-ing brass doors, crisscrossed with equally tall metal bars, was floor-to-ceiling colored stained glass. As the ark doors were opened, the sun hit the wall and made colored light stream into our place of worship. I marveled at the beauty of the temple as a man and a woman took a large object out from its cage. It was wrapped in navy velvet cloth, embel-

lished with gold fringes and multi-colored embroidery. An ornate silver crown capped the two carefully polished wooden handles. “Daddy, what’s that?” “Shhh! A Torah.” “What’s that?” “It’s a long story written by God telling the history of the Jews and all of the things he wants and doesn’t want us to do.”

I observed as a burly man, also with a white shoulder-covering blanket, carried the Torah scroll into the aisle. “Come here, Sam.” My dad beckoned me to move closer to the procession. As the large man passed each person, they stuck out their red prayer books to touch what he was holding and kissed the book where it had made contact with the holy scroll. My dad motioned for me to do the same, and I did, blindly, still unsure of the purpose.

Samantha Fern, 16, attends Livingston High School.

My early glimpse at Judaism

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4 nu MAY 2016

Phoebe Brenner

O ver Spring Break, I had the opportunity to visit my sister, who is studying abroad in Flor-

ence, Italy. This was my first time trav-eling overseas. My journey began when my parents and I flew from Newark to Munich, Germany. From Munich we flew to Florence.

Walking around Florence is simi-lar to walking around New York City except all the streets are cobblestone and there are few electronic advertisements. The streets are even harder to drive on than the streets in New York. I was there for a week and at the end of my trip I could not tell how the drivers knew which way the roads went. The cars are much s maller and most people use motorcycles.

Obviously you want to know about the food! I must give you a disclaimer that my opinions of what is best might be a little skewed because I dislike red sauce and eat all my pasta plain. Despite my fickle eating habits, my parents made me try the pasta and marina at La Giostra, which my dad said he found very tasty, and he regularly eats his pasta with sauce. At La Giostra, I got a crepe with spinach and cheese (I love cheese) and it was delicious!

My trip included several trips to local gelato shops. Gelato is the Italian version of ice cream, but thicker. Eduardo’s is one of the best places to go. They always have a line out the door.

For an afternoon I traveled outside the city of Florence to the wine vineyards in Chianti. The scenery is beautiful, with rolling hills filled with growing grapes. The vineyards are a perfect place to spend an afternoon with family. I am looking forward to studying abroad in Florence!

Phoebe Brenner, 17, attends Randolph High School.

Springtime in Italy

Phoebe Brenner with her father in Italy

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Olivia Meyers

I recently went hiking with my friend Jordan at Pyramid Mountain. It was an incredible experience and I had an awesome view. When we first started going, we walked on

a small dirt path alongside a gorgeous lake on our right. As we continued to scale the mountain, the rock climbing and jump-ing over logs became almost routine. We also noticed that there were a bunch of these interestingly and neatly piled rocks all on the sides of the path we followed. The rocks were in the shape of a pyramid and stacked up so high with little rocks somehow staying up at the top. That’s how I thought the place got its name.

The pictures that I took were at this giant boulder we saw. It was so hard for me to understand but the only support to hold up the boulder was three small boulders, and it was completely stable! Just to test it out though, my friend and I got help from her parents to climb to the top. We asked Jordan’s dad about how the boulder could possibly remain standing and he said that the structure must have been put there a long time ago, but it would have required a lot of strength to do so, and it would be hard to lift without some type of machinery.

After that, we hiked to a higher spot and we could see the Manhattan skyline from there; it was a little far away, but really pretty over the treetops. We ended up walking about six miles or so and it was an awesome experience. I am hoping to go again soon because I really enjoyed it. I liked the fresh air, scenery, and great workout!

Olivia Meyers attends Randolph High School.

A beautiful day for a hike

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6 nu May 2016

Desi Brower

I recently had the privilege of traveling to China and learning about and experienc-ing the enriching culture of the Chinese people. Traveling to China came with a little bit of culture shock, as their lifestyles are extremely different from ours.

Among one of the most notable differences in the culture was the lack of religious discussion.

In America, I feel very connected and associated with my Judaism. I find in America, when being described I am often affiliated with my religion. However, in China, when described, I was only looked at as American.

After traveling through six cities, the first place I even heard about Jews was in Shanghai. This was where I saw my first synagogue in China. It was the first time I felt at home. It was no surprise that the city I found my little piece of Judaism in was Shanghai, as it is China’s most modern city.

After nine days of being just American, I was finally able to be understood when I explained that I was Jewish.

Desi Brower, 16, attends Livingston High School.

An American in

China

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Jordyn Zitman

A s of the current moment, I am 17 years, five months, and two days old. Prior to the beginning

of this year, I had no idea just how significant this year would be for me. The things that came to mind when I considered what the year ahead may bring included the utter excitement of getting my driver’s license, attend-ing prom, and other seemingly trivial rights of passage one typically associ-ates with one’s 17th year.

I definitely did not foresee gaining the ability to vote in the presidential election as a part of my junior year.

I was sitting with my parents watch-ing one of the first GOP debates in our family room, laughing at the outright disgraceful nature of some of the candidates. I could not believe that after an entire adolescence of view-ing politicians as buttoned up and poised profes-sionals, the tables had so quickly turned to reveal a group of mudsling-ing children, expressing empty thoughts and step-ping on the ideals and personal lives of their sup-posed “teammates.” I had never seen anything like it, of that I was certain.

My mother then leaned over from her position on the couch next to me and questioned whether I was excited to cast my vote in November. I vividly remember laughing at her question, as it was common knowledge and the butt of many jokes that my 18th birthday would fall a mere day after the final votes had been cast on Nov 1.

She raised an eyebrow at me, explaining that although the first day of November is a Tuesday, Election Day does not occur until after the first Monday has passed.

After double-checking her logic, I concluded that she was correct and I would make the eligibility by a week. It was at that moment that I realized the responsibility I now held not only for myself, but also for my country.

I glanced up once again at the faces of the candidates on my TV screen and I knew that this sense of respon-sibility was not fleeting. Since that

day, the world as I knew it has become consumed with thoughts and discus-sions regarding who the next com-mander-in-chief of the United States will be.

Public high school soon morphed into a platform for teens to voice their political opinions, pitting friends and classmates against one another. What perplexed me about this seemingly perpetual divide was not the didactic and aggressive manner in which the students discussed the future of our world, but rather the lack of logic behind their

words. Children of immigrants sup-porting Donald Trump, pro-choice advocates rallying behind Ted Cruz, disheveled pieces of opinions and thoughts.

I thought long and hard regarding why this contrast existed and soon came to the conclusion that made the most sense. Children, for the most part, are a direct byproduct of their families. Their beliefs, their values, their lifestyle —all are contributing factors to the people they become and the ideas they project. As much as teenagers wish they could be inde-

pendent from their parents, there is simply no way to escape the influence of the people who raised you.

While it is important to learn from adults and their experiences, it can also be dangerous to do so. When deeply con-templated, the state of our world is a prod-uct of the people e l ec ted into office, and

therefore the A m e r i c a n s who voted for them: our par-ents and their

pa rent s . The world is a pretty

amazing place on one hand ; how-

ever, on the other, it is a catastrophic mess,

filled with war and poverty and prejudice that runs deeper

than the ocean. Teenagers will not be teenagers forever, and once we have reached voting age,

soon after will come time for us to fill the shoes of our parents. The world will rest in our hands, and it will be up to us to elect politicians who will facilitate the development of our world and make it a beacon of opportunity for those who will follow.

If we, the millennials of the United States, do not soon learn to follow our instincts and form individual and uninfluenced opinions, the contin-uous circle of destruction, war, and poverty will perpetuate another gen-

eration. The 2016 presidential election is a

source of fear for the American peo-ple as well as the millennials, as there is so much to be repaired in these next four years. Healthcare, women’s rights, the economy; there is so much change to be made and so little time to do it before we are thrust out into the world as adults. This election will

decide what kind of world we want to shape for our own futures.

This can all seem overwhelm-ing to someone whose biggest concerns at the moment are what colleges to apply to and making the soccer team; the future may seem far off. I know for a fact that the future isn’t as far away as it seems. In a few short years we will be the overworked and overtired adults who

define American society. I want to put someone in office who will create the best place possible for people to achieve success and enjoy life the way our founding fathers intended when they created the Constitution.

We, the millennial voters, need to find it in ourselves to use our votes as precious weapons against the future. It is coming, it has an unimaginable momentum, and it’s headed our way. We can save this country and our own futures simply by casting a vote in the right direction, the direction we have decided is the best way to steer our country.

No one person can do this alone; there are hundreds of kids just like me who barely understand 11th-grade physics, let alone the inner workings of the U.S. government. We need to band together to create the country we want to live in. By utilizing the power of our votes in this election, we can set the stage for many future presidents who will steer our country in the direction it is headed. The indi-vidual is strong, but we as the millen-nial generation are the strongest force this world has ever seen. With a lit-tle bit of hope and a lot of deliberate thought, we have the power to change the world.

7 nu May 2016

Saving the world,one millennial at a time

Jordyn Zitman, 17, attends Watchung Hills Regional High School.

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8 nu MAY 2016

My thoughts on GodJordyn Zitman

I am a strong believer in the manifestation of the things we believe in. Religions and philosophies are simply devices human beings utilize to insert into their lives the things the world lacks. What the universe fails to bestow upon us, we compensate for within our own minds.

Judaism has been a part of my life since I was born, and I have never previously mustered the audacity to question whether or not God himself is real. Is there truly a man in the sky who delivered the Torah to a single man? Can we trust these words he supposedly created as a guide to how we should live our lives? Lately I am not sure.

However, there is one thing I am sure of. I am not an expert on God in my own religion, let alone on what he

means to people of other faiths. What I do know is that whether or not he is real, God is a scapegoat and a hero. He is responsible when we experience success, and subject to our wrath when we do not. But when religion is removed from the equation, I cannot honestly say that I believe any holy figure could possibly be responsible for each and every occurrence in our existence. If we are no longer holy enough to communicate with him, how can we be so sure he is still with us?

I have to believe that whatever God a person believes in is much too holy to employ his power to cause a person to cut in front of you in the grocery line. We exclaim his name or ask him silently to help us through rela-tively minuscule hardships, but what if he truly has no power at all? What if each occurrence is just the universe throwing bad luck our way? Perhaps there is no one up in the sky inflicting experiences on us.

So if the ultimate question is who controls our lives, what is left? If it isn’t God, if God doesn’t even exist…who is responsible for our luggage get-ting lost or a mosquito biting our arm?

People by nature need to find rea-son in everything. There needs to be a black or white answer or solution or jus-tifiable conclusion in order for us to find peace with our world and ourselves. Religion has become the implemented device by humans to explain this world in terms they can justify — a boss and a subordinate. What we need to understand as a human race is that sometimes things just happen. For no reason, for no effect, life is just unfair. Creating an almighty character in our heads does little other than ease the pain and fear evoked when we consider that maybe this world is just out of our control and there is absolutely no reason for anything.

People are funny in that way. They would rather have religion and beliefs and wars over these things than just admit that none of us know anything for sure. For all we know, this is all a work of fiction concocted by a person thousands of years ago to ease the same uncertainty we feel today. And who knows, maybe there really is a God and he did give us guidelines for life and wants them followed. But for now, there is no proof of anything. The only tangible thing we have is the war and prejudices that divide people who all really want the same thing: reassurance that their life means something.

So whether or not God is ultimately a true being doesn’t really matter in the scheme of the world. We will be in control of our lives and destinies and as soon as we begin to realize our own power we will no longer rely on a book or on other people to tell us how to live. Our puppet strings will be cut and we can begin to mend the jagged divide that religion has drawn between people for centuries.

Jordyn Zitman, 17, attends Watchung Hills Regional High School.

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9 nu May 2016

Dear Papa Herb,To a man who is my grandpa, my mentor, my teacher, my golf partner, my motivation, my inspi-ration, and most of all, my friend. You are all of these things, because there is not one word that is able to describe you best. There are so many things that make you who you are. And there are so many things I love about you.

You are an artist, a crafter, a golfer, a food expert, a husband, a father, a grandfather, a friend. It seems as though the best memories of you being with me are always the ones that involve the most of your character being shown, the parts of your character that teach me a new aspect of creating a better life for myself.

My favorite and most memorable memories of my own life reflect those lessons that you have taught me. You built these teaching opportunities with your experiences. You built your legacy based on your decisions and actions. You never let anyone else tell you exactly how to do things. You did things your own way with guidance from others.

You made everything you did better than what anyone else could’ve shown you. You built our family on the principles that we live by today. We value success and can accept failure when it occurs. We can forget about the big things that happen to us easily but we will never forget the things that matter most to us. We care about our family more than everything.

You brought these teachings to our family. You brought us the best things in life. You created a legacy in your image, an image that involves both success and failure. You did this to try and shape us for the future. You made us see when there is an opportunity for things to change for the better. You know better than anyone about change for the better. You changed your lifestyle in so many ways. You are always changing: in life, in choices, in everything. Because without change, there is no improvement.

We, your grandchildren and children, are the mark you have left on this world. A mark that will impact the world in many ways. On behalf of all your 11 grandchildren, we owe all of our success in our lives to you. Because of the path you started, we now will continue that path and improve and change for the better.

I will be one of those people who will continue your legacy to the best of my abilities. I will continue the journey for you while you watch over me and guide me. The times we have spent together will never be forgotten. I will never forget you. I love you.

With the most love in the world,Danny

A letter to my grandpaDanny Hubert

Writer’s note: Herb Boden, 82, passed away on April 17, 2016. He is survived by his wife, Claire; his children, Scott Boden (Mary), Stacey Strumeyer, Jennifer Hubert (Jason); and 11 grandchildren, of whom Danny is the youngest.

Danny Hubert, 14, attends Heritage Middle School in Livingston.

10 nu MAY 2016

I took this photo in Puerto Rico on Palomino Island while I was on a walk by the beach. It was very sunny out and pretty windy. I love that it captures such a beautiful moment in time as if it’s a postcard. Photo by Melinda Fern

PHOTOGRAPHY

Taken in Watchung, this photo shows the beauty of nature and how different perspectives can create a unique form of art. Photo by Anna Baitel

This market stall in Jerusalem reflects the color and beauty of the Old City; the photo shows the time and commitment of the artisans who designed these beautiful unique pieces. Photo by Anna Baitel

This photo of two ravens sitting on a rock formation was taken on Masada, the dark color of the ravens contrasting with the bright blue sky. The black ravens were a somber reminder of the sad story of the demise of the Jews on Masada many years ago.

Photo by Anna Baitel

Anna Baitel, 15, attends Watchung Hills Regional High School.

Melinda Fern, 15, attends Livingston High School.

From atop Masada, this view of rocks with the Dead Sea in the distance was shot in a shady, cool area in the midst of the extreme heat of the desert. What made the picture interesting are the shadows of the rock — the only protection from the beating sun. Photo by Anna Baitel

11 nu May 2016

PhotograPhy

Sophie Loesberg

M y name is Sophie Loesberg and I am a photography student at the Pingry School. In March, I attended the L’Taken Seminar in Washington, DC. This seminar is run by the Religious Action

Center of Reform Judaism, which fights for social justice. This four-day seminar taught me and about 400 other Jewish teens how to lobby our state’s congressmen and congresswomen and senators for our beliefs on issues that pertain to our everyday lives and the lives of other Jewish teens. We learned how to make our voices heard.

We spent one day at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum, which is where three of these photographs were taken. That evening, we sat on the steps of the Jefferson Memorial and held candles during a beautiful and empowering Havdala service; that was where the fourth photograph was taken. The last photograph was taken in the Dirksen Senate Office Building while lobbying Sen. Robert Menendez and Sen. Cory Booker of New Jer-sey. Overall, the experience was such a great way to learn about government and my place in it. Also, being able to discuss Jewish issues with Reform Jews from around the country was empowering and exciting.

Sophie Loesberg, 16, attends The Pingry School, Basking Ridge.

Making our voices

heard

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1 2

3 4

5

MotherShe blinks fast while she watches TV

She squints whilst looking at her computer screenAs if it will cause the letters to appear bigger

She tucks her hair behind her ears when she is nervousShe is rarely nervous.

She puts up a strong front that she cannot always maintainSometimes she glances at me with questions in her eyes

She speaks excitedly on the phoneYet she sighs each time it rings

She makes listsLists of things that are not nearly as important

As she believes them to beShe puts up with people who do not deserve her compassion

Even me at times

She thinks of others firstHerself later if she finds the time

Every sentence begins with “You” rather than “I”She is unselfish

She widens her eyes in false surprise when I try to fool herShe is never surprised

She tastes things while she cooks Her eyes light up with pride when she realizes it is perfect

She is an inspiration to meI’m not quite sure she knows it She does her best all of the time

Not merely some of the timeShe is extraordinaryShe is my Mother.

I braid my hair when I am boredHowever, I never tie the endI am scared of commitment

I bite my lips more than I shouldI have no idea why

Nervous ticks manifest

I glance up with my head facing downJust to be sure nobody is looking at me

I tap my feet to keep busy while others talkI bite my tongue to refrain from laughing at jokes

Am I supposed to think they are funny?

I gaze into the distance and rest my cheek in my palmThinking about the future

My dreams are bigger than me

I change my outfit three times Before settling on something mediocre

Reinforcing my haunting fearThat nothing will ever be good enough

I write out my dreams and scribble them away before they come true

I do this because I fear them

I inspect my hands to refrain from making eye contact Because I think people are judging me

Even when they are not

Poetry by Jordyn Zitman

Jordyn Zitman, 17, attends Watchung Hills regional High School.

IN- sEcuR- ITIEs

12 nu May 2016

13 nu May 2016

‘Dolls’Naomi Meininger

DollsPlastic and glue and fake hair

InanimateOr are they?

Do they dream about a wish on a star?Or are their nights filled with goblins and dragons?

Do they poke around when no one is looking?Are they like us?

The almighty speciesThe ones no one challenges

Or maybe they’re just dollsPlastic and glue and fake hair

Inanimate

Naomi Meininger, 13, attends Tenakill Middle School, Closter.

Kimberly Robins

The seconds crawl along dragging,meandering, punctuatedonly by the absentminded scratch of pencil and paper

and the droneof a lecturing voice. And I am trappedinside a barricade of notes and tests and papers and

sleepless nights.What could come ofall these empty eons? I echo with wordsthat form no thoughts, colors that do not mold into pictures.An illusion of success, of purposeto cloud the confinement and I, I could reach so far,

if only I werenotcaged within myself.

Mickey Gilbert’s

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The Cage

Sydney Luks, 16, attends Holmstead School, Ridgewood.

Three imperfectly rounded leaves with no magic to behold.Bound together by a string of dirt-kissed stems.

One more simple petal could change your essence, but nature is not on your side, clover.

Minuscule ridges outline your shape, giving you little-to-no intimidation.But still, I respect you, clover, for you make me feel powerful

in a world where I’m powerless.

Unlucky Clover

Sydney Luks

14 nu May 2016

Danielle Koslow

Take up the Sick Kid’s Burden, view every look and glare,Smile on those who pity, because of a petty chair.Hear them talk of friends who have the same disorder,Listen to them talk treatments, like they’re a medical explorer.

Take up the Sick Kid’s Burden, where your identity is stripped,Be defined by one disorder, with all other qualities skipped.What about your other traits of personality?They are nothing more than a mere formality.

Take up the Sick Kid’s Burden, but do not expect to be heard,Your voice remains unstated, unseen remain your words;Live by our Ailing Code — for when you cannot walk,Oh well, life sucks, too bad, you are forbidden to talk.

Take up the Sick Kid’s Burden, but do not prepare to succeed,Though people say they’ll help, in a heartbeat they’d let you bleed;Try to live in this world where having an afflictionMakes all others view your word as fiction.

Take up the Sick Kid’s Burden, be ready to play the part,Wear the mask of the Token Patient as you steadily lose heart;Make sure your grades are stellar and your attitude sublime,No one should see your pain — they’d leave you in no time.

Take up the Sick Kid’s Burden, and pretend everything’s all right,Just laugh and grin throughout the day, and sob throughout the night;Let people make comments on how you are strong,As you nod your head while thinking that they couldn’t be more wrong.

Take up the Sick Kid’s Burden, and live in agony,Sit around and wish and pray that someday you’ll be set free.But learn that there are no loopholes in this binding deal,You’re stuck with your burden forever, with no hope for an appeal.

Danielle Koslow, 17, attends Watchung Hills Regional High School.

The Sick Kid’sBurden

15 nu MAY 2016

‘facebook’facebooklikesselfiesfriendsseems like the lifethink again

Her perfect selfieHer perfect poutHer perfect lightingHer perfect Calvin Klein attireHer perfect hairlocks so luscious

the picture sits on the glowing screenmocking you200 likes on Her day at the beachbikinis on topsickening

another person is added to the list

Her hundreds of “loyal” friendsmakes you question if you are worthydo you need to lose weight?should you change your wardrobe?should you bejustlikeHer?

facebookseem so glamorous now?

How to HATEYou hate meYet you don’t know me

You hate me with every fiber in your bodyWith every part of your soulYet you don’t know me

Did it ever occur to you I might not just be the color of my skin?

The face of my religion?The person I choose to love?

Did you stop and think that I may be kind?Caring?Generous?

Instead you pin a yellow star to my shirtHold a gun to my headDeny my right to voteKick me out of my countryAnd blow up a place called homeYet you don’t know me

You hate me

Yet you don’t know meAnd you never will

POETRY BY NAOMI MEININGER

Naomi Meininger, 13, attends Tenakill Middle School, Closter .

Teen Tzedakah

Teen Teen TzedaTzedaIRIS

This is what you This is what College will do Admissions officers will see Decide Actual Philanthropic Allocations; Perform Hands-On Simulations; Make Tough Decisions

Leadership Empowerment; Respond to Thought Experiments and Dilemmas

Community Involvement; Deliberative Discussions

Group Decision Making; Fund Management of a Joint Pool; Team Building

YOU AND YOUR PEERS will manage a philanthropy fund. Community organizations will be looking to you for help. The only problem is that they will be asking for 3X as much as you have to offer!

• COLLABORATE with your peers as you perform simulations and tackle dilemmas to prepare you for your tough decisions ahead.

• CONNECT to your Jewish heritage by learning what values will inspire your decisions.

• INTERACT directly with community leaders and philanthropists.

• ANALYZE and develop decisions AS A GROUP for who will receive funding — your decisions are real and they are final.

• BE part of the group that says:

I CARE, I CAN, I WILL: IRIS. Apply today.

JEWISH PHILANTHROPIC LEADERSHIP PROGRAM

www.jteengmw.org/iris_teen_tzedakah

Questions? Contact Michael Strom at (973)-929-2963 or

MStrom@ThePartnershipNJ.org

Supported by the Herb & Milly Iris Youth and Family Philanthropy Endowment.

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