Jewish Post, Indianapolis, Marion County, 3 January 2003 — Page 9

The Art of Observation

Teen Scene

January 1. 2003 NAT 5

Bigotry should receive no sanction

Tech this!

By RABBI ALLEN H. PODET My first "formal" contact with the American National

Red Cross (ARC) was many moons ago, when I was in seminary and trying to scrounge up money during the summers to pay for expenses during the year. I had been in Jewish camps for years, first as a not-particularly-willing camper. My parents, who were not likely to be confused with wealthy persons, sent me to Camp Avodah (Heb.: labor), a subsidized Yiddish-Socialist dream world. There we spent the mornings in some cooperative farmer's fields, "picking strawberries," a technical term which meant 20 minutes of berry picking in the beating sun followed by an hour of collapse on the cool, sweet earth, hidden from view between the rows. Having experienced stoop labor, we were told that we had earned by honest peasant sweat our lunch and an afternoon swim. We also learned to have a healthy contempt for mere "Rec" (recreational) camps, where irresponsible and exploitative kids went. The idle rich. In time I graduated to other camps and started making money as a CIT and counselor. It soon became clear to me that the plum job for a summer worker was waterfront. It was the lifeguard, nobly titled the Waterfront Director, who got the highest counselor pay. Not to mention the admiring glances from the girls. He was a personage of responsibility and an aloof panache, ogled by the girl counselors no less than by the senior campers. Accordingly, I enrolled in the ARC summer course for Water Safety Instructor and received my WSI badge, swimsuit patch, and certification. It was a serious residential course, six days, with food that seemed to provide the maximum calories with the minimum nutrition. At the end, we were served a bill which most

of us found altogether staggering, considering that we had paid for food and accommodations separately. We were WSIs, but at very substantial cost. One of our trainers organized a car pool to get us home and split the gas, and when we found out what pittance he had been paid, we understood Red

Cross economics. It left a bit of a sour taste. I had been a regular contributor to Red Cross campaigns up to that point. Subsequently, my donations became hesitant, and erratic. Long before I became a Navy chaplain, I admired the soldiers and sailors who placed themselves at risk so that we might be safe, and I delighted to spend time in their company, hearing their stories, bonding with them. It was from them that I heard stories of how the Red Cross had in time of combat always been Johnny-on-the-spot, ministering to the guys at the front, selling them coffee and donuts if they had the money. My contributions ceased altogether. Years later, when as a rabbi I had occasion to deal with organized charities, I discovered the so-called "effective dollar," that portion of the total income of a charity that actually gets to the people in need, as opposed to the part spent on salaries, perks, and administrative overhead. I learned that the effective dollar of the ARC was among the lowest in the business, at one time about 65 cents. Compared with that of, say, the Salvation Army, at about 87-plus cents. I also learned about the bloated salaries, luscious perks, and prime real estate locations enjoyed by executives of the Red Cross. It was about 10 years ago that I was teaching a college philosophy and religious studies class involving ethical prob-

lems. Someone raised the question of why the ARC was unwilling to recognize the Shield of David symbol of the Israel Red Magen David. Surely it could not have anything to do with anti-Semitism. We were speaking of the Red Cross, after all. The class found the topic

interesting, and we organized a full-scale debate on the matter to be held some weeks later. The teams researched the question rather well, I thought, and I believe some of them may even have contacted the ARC offices for help. When the debate came about, it involved—necessarily, I suppose—not only the ARC but the International Red Cross, of which ARC is a member. I kept hands off the discussion itself as far as possible, limiting my participation to guidance regarding form and process and suggestions regarding research methods. I wanted, as much as any member of the class, to see where it would go. Where it went was this: The conclusion was affirmed that excluding the Magen David Adorn symbol was a case of anti-Semitic bigotry pure and simple. The clinching argument had to do with the fact that the Islamic Red Crescent was, indeed, a recognized symbol. There were other symbols also which were acceptable. Only the Jewish symbol presented an insuperable problem to the Red Cross. In the spirit of fair play, I wrote up an account of the debate and its arguments and conclusion and communicated it on behalf of the class to the International Red Cross headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland. The Secretary of the IRC Continued on page 15

It soon became clear to me that the plum job for a summer worker was waterfront. It was the lifeguard, nobly titled the Waterfront Director, who got the highest counselor pay. Not to mention the admiring glances from the girls. He was a personage of responsibility and an aloof panache, ogled by the girl counselors no less than by the senior campers.

By JULIE COHEN Today's society is extremely dependent on technology. That

is a pretty fair and valid statement. Ten years ago, there were no such things as chat rooms or palm pilots. Back then, people relied on person-to-per-son contact and the good old paper and pen and could still function without a cable modem hooked up to their computer. Now, it seems like even young children play an interactive computer game rather than read a picture book with their parents. Is this reliance on technology ever going to stop? I don't think so! There have been studies that show that communication skills are declining with children and teenagers because they handle situations on the computer via e-mail and chat. Let's say that 13-year-old Anna wants to break up with Tyler, her boyfriend of three months. She could get online and write him an e-mail without ever having to look him in the eye or hear his disappointed voice. Or she could call him on the phone or go over to his house, sit him down, and let him know how she really feels. Which one is easier? For a 13-year-old, the computer sounds a lot more attractive than Tyler's pubescent and shaky voice. So Anna dumps him using her high-speed Internet connection and gets the job done in three minutes flat. Sure, it's easier, but is it really better? By using the computer, Tyler has no idea how Anna really feels because he can't even see her face. He can't sens** her emotions because he is just reading words. Now, their relationship was most likely very juvenile and meaningless anyway, but still, Anna and Tyler both have no concept of confrontation or courage. The sincerity of an e-mail doesn't compare to that of a phone call or talking in person. But the easy way out was definitely a more attractive option. Another flaw with this

young generation that I'm living in is laziness. We always try to do it the easy way or get things done the quickest way. I can attest to this laziness. For example, when I have to write a paper, I sit down at the computer and stare at the screen until an idea for an introductory paragraph pops into my head. Instead of making mind maps, brainstorming, and crumpling up hundreds of sheets of dissatisfying notebook paper (which relieves stress), I am staring at a screen with no thought as to what I am really doing. Once the paper gets started, I just write and write and write until I can't write anymore. If I make a simple mistake, I use the delete key and fix it in a flash. But 10 or 20 years ago, that scribble would have caused me to rewrite the whole page using my pen. Sure, it is more convenient and it saves time, but is it really thoughtprovoking? Then, when my paper is a few lines too short, I can use my "Microsoft Word Wizard" to adjust the page settings to make it appear longer, or increase my typeface at the drop of a hat. Now let's say my computer froze the day I was supposed to write an eight-page history paper. I would freak out! As much as I hate to admit it, I need the computer. I need the Internet to get one last source to cite on the sixth page; I need spell-check to make sure I didn't misspell Confederacy or constituent, and I need the computer to make the process go faster, faster, faster. On paper, it would take me double the time to get my work done, but would that really be so bad? It is so easy these days to get otherwise difficu) asks done. Instead of focusing on one conversation with a close friend on the phone, I am using chat programs which allow me to talk to tons of people at once, where my conversations are a lot less sincere and meaningful. I waste so much time sitting at this computer, playing games, listening to bootleg music, and chatting with my friends. Julie Cohen welcomes reader comments at [email protected]. She'll have plenty of time to respond from her jail cell where she'll be doing hard time for her involvement in the Internet bootleg music crime ring.