llan Bissinger was installed as the new president of the New Orleans Jewish Federation in an unconventional way last week.
At the exact time when the federation’s annual meeting was scheduled, he was having dinner in Baton Rouge with his predecessor, Bobby Garon, and several representatives of United Jewish Communities, the national organization for Jewish federations.
In lieu of a gavel, Garon handed him a napkin wrapped around silverware and thus passed him the reins of leadership.
Bissinger is living in Baton Rouge temporarily, the offices of the New Orleans federation are based in Houston, and the members of the New Orleans Jewish community are now living in 70 communities across the country.
This is definitely not business as usual.
When asked how the federation is handling this unprecedented situation, Sherri Tarr, the former women’s campaign and young leadership director, said, “With a lot of patience, not much sleep and lots of sechel [common sense].”
In the first few days after Hurricane Katrina, the sanctity of a human life was the Jewish federation’s first priority. Adam Bronstone, the federation’s community relations director, worked closely with the National Guard, directing it to the homes of stranded Jewish elderly shut-ins and helping in the evacuation to Houston of 300 residents of the Jewish nursing home, Woldenberg Village. Unfortunately, two residents died en route.
Once everyone was evacuated, the focus shifted to finding out where people relocated and helping people find their family and friends. (New contact information for community members can be found on the federation’s Web site, www.jewishnola.com, and it is updated daily.)
Just managing the flood of communication — from those offering to help and those needing help — has been overwhelming.
As they enter the third week of the post-Katrina era, the federation and its agencies are shifting focus once again, moving beyond survival needs to assessing the damage and planning for the future. The Jewish communal professionals charged with running these agencies are also gaining focus as well. As Deena Gerber, executive director of New Orleans’ Jewish Family Service who is now living in Atlanta with her son and his family, said, “Before I couldn’t focus on anything for more than 15 seconds. Now, I am up to 60 seconds at a time.”
Several factors make this focus so difficult to achieve. The first is that the scale of this disaster is unprecedented in recent American history. How do you rebuild a community from scratch when its leaders are located from 80 to 350 miles away and you are still looking for its members?
Furthermore, the cloud of uncertainty is all-enveloping, and the Jewish community is not the master of its own fate. Though much of the communal infrastructure seems to have fared relatively well, the decision to reopen those buildings will be based on when basic services will be restored and when the government will allow people to return.
What makes this task immeasurably more difficult is that the community leaders are themselves victims.
“How can I help Tulane students cope with their displacement when my family has been displaced as well, when my kids have been ripped from their lives, too, and I need to help them adjust to a new home and a new school?” asked Paige Nathan, executive director of Hillel of New Orleans. “What I have been telling my four staff members over and over again is that they have to take care of their own needs first.”