International Women’s Day: for women everywhere, who each have a story.

As I’ve listened over the years to the stories of so many exceptional women (and men) that I have had the privilege to work with and get to know over the course of my life, I have come to realise that everyone has a story. It is easy to look at the success of a person and label that as “privilege” without any understanding of the struggle that led to a successful outcome. It is equally as easy to look at a challenge and label someone as a “victim”. I have been honoured to share in the stories of exceptional women who could so easily see themselves as victims, but have chosen to see themselves as privileged. I just call them heroines.

In previous years, in celebration of International Women’s Day, we have hosted or participated in panels that curated examples of inspiring women to recognize their achievements and inspire us all. This year, I am choosing to share my own story which is deeply personal, at times painful, mostly a really happy one. This is a story I have not told publicly before, partially because it is so personal and it never felt relevant to share, really because I never thought it would make a difference. But today - the world sometimes looks like a scary place, and I think it's time we all open our eyes to other peoples’ stories. So here goes:

My great grandparents were born and raised in Eastern Europe - in the countries of Poland, Latvia and Lithuania until the late 1800’s. This was a time where anti-semitism was rampant, where jews were murdered in cold blood by the hundreds during pogroms. As a jew it was nearly impossible to find or keep a job for more than a few weeks at a time and conditions of poverty, cold, hunger, violence and suffering became unsustainable. Many got on boats with nothing but their children and the clothes on their back, and in my family's case, my great grandmother’s silver candlesticks - often without knowing the destinations they were heading to - an escape from the unimaginable: anything had to be better. In our story, they landed on the coast of South Africa with no money, no skills and no english, and set out to rebuild their lives again. Over 100 years later, those candlesticks still sit on my mother's table every Friday night to remind us of our family values: who we are and where we came from.

My paternal grandfather left his studies in Lithuania in 1939 on the advice of a close friend who told him “if you don’t leave now, you will never leave at all”. He spent the years of the holocaust from 1939-1945 as a refugee in Switzerland then with family in England before he was able to make it safely back home to South Africa. His colleagues and friends perished with the entire Jewish Community of Lithuania and 6 million other jews in the holocaust. He talked to us on the day he got the call when they discovered that the whole world had been wiped out. The synagogues, the libraries, the schools, the people. Think about it: 1 minute of silence for each victim of the holocaust would mean silence for 11.5 years.

South Africa introduced apartheid in 1948. The Jews of South Africa including my grandparents who were leaders in the community, used loud voices to stand against the racism, discrimination and hatred of that era, having a lot of experience with discrimination and very recently, the repercussions of hatred, discrimination and the trauma of the holocaust. I grew up in the late 1970’s - I’m almost exactly the same age as my friend and colleague Ideshini Naidoo. But her family is of Indian descent and so we would never have been allowed to play on the same beaches, or go to the same schools. My upbringing in many ways was sheltered from the horrors of segregation, poverty and lack of opportunity that she lived through. But in others, we were reminded frequently, that Jews were only one step above the non-white population, and that rampant anti-semitism was always waiting around the corner. 

My grandfather became the Chief Rabbi of South Africa - a prominent political and religious position. Supported by my grandmother they were role models of Jewish values, respect, dignity, care for other humans and above all - education and integrity as the ticket - wherever you go, you can take what is in your head and what is in your heart. 

Years later, my father, also a Rabbi, worked alongside the South African and American governments during the beginning of the change to New South Africa. Living and working in South Africa during its transition from apartheid to democracy under the leadership of two exceptional individuals, President F.W. de Klerk and President Nelson Mandela, was a rare privilege. He worked closely with members of both leaders' governments and with some of the greatest South African business leaders of that time to bring an end to apartheid and build a New South Africa. But we hardly saw my father during the week as he worked to earn a living, to invest in service to the community he led, and to make strides against the political climate that needed to change. My mother balanced raising 5 children, a full-time career, her own pursuits of academia that were her true passions, and the communal responsibilities of a Rabbi’s wife. It was a familial sacrifice that was our own contribution to the cause and one that instilled dignity, values and service of a community deep in our DNA.

Two generations later, my family packed our bags again and moved to the U.S, but I made my own journey moving to Canada–which was not always easy. I was a young woman trying to find a job in a new country with no friends or professional network, while also trying to raise a family and plant roots all over again. These times were overwhelming to say the least. I try not to think too much about that time period because it was hard and there were many tearful moments. When I do look back at those years, I am grateful for the support of my devoted husband who was also navigating his own struggles. I am proud of my achievements having raised 3 children, volunteered many hours to my community, built a great career and made some true friends. But getting here was a story that is familiar to many immigrants. It is one of sacrifice, tremendous grit and tenacity. Especially for women.

Let's look briefly at some moments in recent Canadian Jewish History. If you’ve ever needed to be in Mount Sinai Hospital for any reason, you’ll notice the Sabbath Elevators and kosher food in the cafeteria. There is a Mount Sinai Hospital just like this in many major North American cities for the same reason. Mount Sinai hospital in Toronto began in August of 1913, with four immigrant women from Toronto’s Jewish community who started knocking on neighbourhood doors to raise money for a hospital. The Jewish immigrant population in Toronto was burgeoning; most of the new immigrants didn’t speak English and were afraid of large institutions where they tended to be badly treated. And, sadly, not a hospital in the city would give Jewish doctors a place to practice. It took them nine years, but by 1922, the Mrs. Cohn, Miller, Spiegel and Adler had raised $12,000, enough to buy a building at 100 Yorkville. In 1923, The Hebrew Maternity and Convalescent Hospital opened its doors.

Much has changed about that hospital since it opened. The name became Mount Sinai Hospital and it moved locations several times. In very short order, it has become one of North America’s pre-eminent medical, teaching and research institutions. It also developed a world-wide reputation for excellence in genetic research, women’s and infants’ health, surgical oncology, gastrointestinal diseases, diabetes, general psychiatry, critical care and cardiology. And it became so culturally inclusive that there are now interpreters for Mount Sinai patients in over 45 languages. The vision, determination and selfless concern for the well-being of the community that characterized Mount Sinai’s beginnings still drive the Hospital today. This is the power of women, of immigrants, of Canada.

I attended a meeting at the Vancouver Club 6 or 7 years ago. I was distinctly aware that like with most of these clubs, by walking through the front doors and into the building, not that long ago - I would have been violating two rules. It is still recent that women were only allowed in as guests and even then, only at dinner – escorted by a male member, of course – and were not permitted to enter the premises through the main doors. Jews at that time were distinctly not welcome as members. The unwritten rule was that, with the exception of converts to Christianity, Jews were not allowed. Certainly in the 1940s, and probably earlier, the unspoken no-Jews policy might just as well have been etched in stone tablets. Times have changed somewhat.

Today, I work at an extremely inclusive company for an extremely inclusive CEO. The reality is though, that with so few women leaders in tech, over the 22 years I have lived and worked in Toronto, I was and still am often the only one, or one of very few women at a boardroom table, in a meeting, at a conference. At times in my career I have been left out, or left behind. I don’t play golf and I hate beer. I keep kosher and I don't work or travel on Saturdays. That almost always means not being able to eat when we are out. Sometimes it's isolating but I don’t feel undermined and I don’t feel less able to do my job because of where I work and who I work with. I have chosen to work with people who recognize what I bring, who make me feel comfortable, who give me opportunities. If I didn’t, I would move and find it somewhere else. No one has yet succeeded in stopping me. I am exactly where I want to be, and that’s truly what I care about.

I have two strong and independent minded daughters. Beautiful and intelligent young ladies working hard and forging their own way in the world, setting an example for their younger brother to follow. I hope that their world is easier, and they have already taken on their own battles head-on and come out stronger. I couldn't be prouder. I have my family, friends, mentors and some incredible male and female colleagues who have supported me along the way, and my children have always been my biggest fans.

In addition to my fulfilling career I have the privilege and the responsibility to be involved as a volunteer in a leadership capacity at a few prominent and very senior Jewish community organizations. I have acted as “Chairman” of two seperate boards of not-for-profit organisations. Through these roles I have been privy to intelligence and information about antisemitic “incidents” and threats that is almost never public, but comes from serious and reliable sources and is monitored constantly at the higher security levels out of Israel and North America. There is a lot that is prevented, lobbied for or against, and still too much that happens anyway, despite all efforts. There are discussions that provide predictive data that simply becomes a reality over time. 

Not yet 75 years after the end of the holocaust, there are too many reminders of how easy it would be to happen again. The rise in antisemitism globally and even in lovely Canada is a chilling force. Each of my 3 children have experienced at least one frightening and directly anti-semitic incident, all in public places - on transit or in malls, all in broad daylight in the metropolitan city of Toronto. No one stopped to help or stand up for them on any of those occurrences. It happens more often than you’d think. The Jewish community is 3.8% of Toronto’s population, but holds 36% of the total hate crimes reported. And so many of these incidents are never reported.

“None is too many” was the Canadian response to accepting Jewish refugees in the second world war, and it could well be again. So I live like Jews have for thousands of years. Dig deep roots, invest, build, create. Learn, gather knowledge, be a good person, contribute as much as you can. Be prepared to give it all up and move on short notice. Again. I must just be prepared because it’s happened across four generations, from my great grandparents to my children.

These are not Canadian problems - in fact they are very much global issues with Europe once again in the centre. But Canada is not and will not be immune, and unfortunately as much as I love Canada and am proud to be a citizen, I also know our greatest strengths are our greatest weaknesses. When it happens, there is a high likelihood that no one will say anything because we don’t like to get involved in other people’s business and we don’t really like confrontation, even when we know something is wrong. I don’t apologize for being different. I try to be confident and own who I am and put my best out into the world. We need to build cultures of inclusion to embrace diversity. Most importantly this means we need to have the courage to speak up when something is not right. The world will be a much better place when we learn to do just that.

So that is my struggle. As a mother, as a wife, a daughter, an employee, a manager, a leader. How do I make each day count? How do I invest my heart and soul and every ounce of energy I have in everything I do? How do I give people opportunities to shine? How do I notice and open doors for others that may have a hard time getting through otherwise? How do I leave a legacy so the people that come after me have an easier time? That is my struggle, that is our eternal struggle, I think.

I have done things I didn’t know I could and yet I have so much more to do. I have and will treasure every single moment of what we’ve done so far and what is still to come. My heart and soul and every ounce of my energy will always be on helping others to be the best version of themselves and through this, their visions will become a reality. That is my purpose. I thank so many people from the bottom of my heart for including me in their dreams, in their visions. 

If you really look around, there are so many incredible women with unbelievable stories. We are white, indian, asian, brown, black. We are Jewish, Christian and Muslim, some not religious at all. We are single women, women with families, careers, dreams and aspirations. We are women that have overcome great challenges to be where we are today. We are women of the world. Women in Tech. We are Women. We are just like you, only different. Ask us to tell you our stories. I am sure you will find them inspirational.