Since the recession began in December 2007, roughly 5 million jobs have been lost, with nearly 3 million of those vanishing in the last five months, according to the U.S. Department of Labor.
As a result, many out-of-work individuals have taken up volunteering as a way to stay connected, maintain a routine and feel needed.
And for three Bay Area residents helping Jewish institutions, it’s working.
Barbara Lowenstein saw it coming.
Her once stable job as project manager for Washington Mutual’s credit card department became a liability as JPMorgan Chase swallowed the Delaware-based bank from the FDIC, which seized it in September.
Lowenstein and a thousand others from WaMu’s West Coast operations were laid off in January, the result of duplicate divisions slashed to cut costs.
That’s when Lowenstein turned to the one place she depended on for support throughout her life: the Jewish Community Center.
“I got my identity of who I am as a Jew from going to the JCC,” said the San Francisco resident. “And I wanted to get more involved in the Jewish community.”
A volunteer at the JCCSF since 2005, Lowenstein didn’t have that “what should I do now?” moment when her job of more than three years disappeared. She’s turned her misfortune into an opportunity to devote more time to taking pictures for the JCC, snapping events from Purim parties to Sukkot celebrations.
“I have a great passion for
photography,” she said. “When you’re volunteering and it’s such a strong part of your identity, it’s a lot more rewarding. You’re helping your community. It’s an extension of you.”
More recently, Lowenstein joined the Young Adult Leadership Committee at Congregation Emanu-El in San Francisco, where she and her family are members. She started right around the time she was laid off, finding it a welcome way to spend the extra time she had all of a sudden.
If there are events that need organizing, Evites that need sending and guest lists that need filling, Lowenstein is in charge. The tasks, she said, remind her of her past duties at WaMu.
“It’s nice to have responsibilities,” Lowenstein said. “I’m organizing projects and making sure everyone’s in sync with what’s going on.”
Aside from the obvious drawback — that it doesn’t pay the bills — the committee is way more fun than work, she added.
So far, Lowenstein has helped the committee plan events such as Purim Follies; Late Shabbat, a unique Friday-night service for adults in their 20s and 30s; and Mission Photo, a photo-driven jaunt around the Mission District with a Jewish twist.
Growing up in Tokyo, Lowenstein and her family didn’t belong to a synagogue. This was not by choice — a congregation didn’t exist in the city at that time. However, she did spend time at the Jewish Community Center of Japan, which she called the “hub of Jewish life” in Tokyo.
At age 12, Lowenstein and her family left Japan and moved to the Peninsula, where they became members of Temple Beth Jacob in Redwood City.
After graduating with an MBA in marketing from Drexel University in Philadelphia, Lowenstein returned to the Bay Area. Settling in San Francisco, “I automatically gravitated toward the JCC,” she said. “It was an automatic understanding: Jewish life equaled the JCC.”
When she’s not taking photographs, Lowenstein can often be found competing on the JCC’s volleyball court. It was a teammate who mentioned the Young Adult Leadership Committee at Emanu-El, giving Lowenstein “a breath of fresh air along with the stress of getting laid off.”
Lowenstein is currently looking for a new job, an arduous process, she admits, considering positions in the financial sector are limited, if not nonexistent. Ideally, Lowenstein said she’d love to be professionally engaged in the Jewish community.
“I would be so happy, I’d be floored,” she said. “Not only is it such a strong part of my identity and who I am, but I would get to do that eight hours a day.
“Volunteering is gratifying. If I could do it as a full-time job, that would be great.”
Like Lowenstein, Theresa Daneman found a way to turn an unfortunate situation into one that feeds her soul — feeding others.
The 52-year-old Marin resident always wanted to volunteer with Congregation Rodef Sholom’s Mitzvah Kitchen, but couldn’t spare a Thursday to deliver food, or a Friday to hand out freshly baked challahs.
After being let go from her job earlier this year, Daneman’s Thursdays suddenly freed up, as did the remainder of her week.
“[The Mitzvah Kitchen] was the first thing I thought of when I got laid off,” said Daneman, who’s a member of the Reform congregation in San Rafael. “My background is in sales, and I have no problem talking to people.
“Before, I was driving to people’s houses to talk. Now I deliver good news, bread and food.”
Daneman worked for Genworth Financial as an internal wholesaler, selling long-term care insurance to financial advisers and insurance brokers. In January, her company implemented a global restructuring due to the economic downturn.
Roughly 15 percent of Genworth’s staff was cut, according to Daneman, equaling about 1,100 employees worldwide.
Daneman had been at Genworth’s San Rafael office for just seven months when it became apparent that layoffs were imminent. She had been the last one hired, and had taken on a sizeable mortgage with the recent purchase of a condominium.
“I was thinking, how am I going to get out of this one,” Daneman said. “[The layoff] caused a major revamping of my life. It cost me most of my savings. I don’t know where I’ll be living. I’m almost starting from scratch.”
Staying connected to people, especially those at Rodef Sholom, was imperative in the days and months after the layoff.
Now, Daneman devotes her Thursdays to door-to-door food deliveries to families in San Rafael and Novato who are celebrating events such as bar and bat mitzvahs, weddings or new babies.
Daneman also brings brown bags overflowing with goods to those in more serious situations, such as recovering after surgery or mourning the death of a loved one.
“They are so glad to see me,” Daneman said. “I get a lot of affection and appreciation. One woman even invited me in.”
She’s brought food to a wife caring for her ailing husband, been greeted by two young girls proudly showing off their new baby brother, and met countless others.
Some don’t know how to respond or accept the gift, Daneman said. But that’s never a problem. Daneman simply walks in, places the bags in the kitchen and is sure to say “Shabbat shalom” and “Can I do anything else?”
“[Volunteering] keeps some of my people skills tuned up,” she said. “It keeps me in that same mode of getting dressed, being presentable and figuring out where I’m going.
“With the Mitzvah Kitchen, I’m useful. I have a routine. I have something to look forward to. It’s the highlight of my week.”
Daneman plans to continue volunteering at Rodef Sholom until she secures a full-time job. And even after that happens, she hopes to find a volunteer position that will fit in with her schedule. People are “so appreciative,” she said, and “you don’t get that annual review.”
“It really sounds quite selfish, but I’m doing this because it makes me feel so good,” Daneman said. “If you could see my face, I just can’t stop smiling. Even if there’s an illness or a kid grabbing my leg, it so nice to have someplace to be.
In 1992, Paul Levine started Principle Interest Mortgage, his one-man mortgage brokerage firm in San Francisco.
For years, business was thriving. The majority of Levine’s clients came to him seeking loans in the high-six, low-seven figures.
But 2009’s a whole different story — one that’s giving Levine, 54, more nightmares than he can handle. With the mortgage industry under intense scrutiny following the spike in defaults and foreclosures, there aren’t enough loans for his clients — and he’s losing business rapidly.
“I’ve been on my own, earning a good living in California for 30 years,” Levine said. “This is quite unusual for me. My wife and I pretty much started to not be able to afford food. I’m at risk of losing my home, and the credit cards have been closed. I’m doing odd jobs and selling stuff that we own on Craigslist and eBay.
“Everybody says everyone gets through it, but it’s different when you’re in the midst of it. It feels like everyone is beating up on you.”
Heeding the advice of a social worker, Levine and his wife recently sought help from the S.F.-based Jewish Family and Children’s Services. While sitting in the waiting room, Levine noticed a sign-up sheet for potential volunteers. For a moment, he forgot about his own financial problems and grabbed a pen.
“We’ve become clients of JFCS,” he said. “They’ve been extremely wonderful in helping us and not making us feel like we’re begging. They’re doing for me, and I can give something back to them while I’m trying to rebuild my life.”
Whenever JFCS needs a volunteer, Levine is on its list of people to call. In the last few weeks, he’s made Passover gift bags for those in need, and hopes to assist at events for Holocaust survivors, holidays and staff weekends in the future.
Before pitching in to help others, he’d spent most of his time trying to keep his business afloat or “feeling sorry for myself.” Anything he can do to assist JFCS gives him back some of his self-respect, a little bit at a time, Levine said.
“There’s a selfishness that’s built in when all you’re doing is fending for yourself and the life you’re involved in,” he said. “But there’s an interior light that goes on inside of my heart when I volunteer, and I can absolutely feel it. I don’t get that when I’m working.”
A native of New York, Levine moved to San Francisco in 1979. He fulfilled a lifelong dream, one that began at age 5 after he read a story about the city in Highlights magazine. “I still remember the first paragraph,” Levine said. “ ‘San Francisco is a place where you can wear your sweatshirt all year round.’ ”
In addition to running his mortgage business, Levine recently became an online advertising consultant with LocalAdLink.com, which helps national and local advertisers reach their targeted market on the Web.
The added responsibilities and stress don’t give Levine much time to practice his Jewish faith, but he’s committed to volunteering at JFCS, even when he’s back on his feet.
“Since I’ve been referred to JFCS because of my Jewish heritage, it’s made a big impact on me. I feel blessed for being a Jew in this situation,” Levine said.
“Now that I’m involved with the volunteers at JFCS, as well as the people who are benefiting, it gives me better perspective. The world is not coming to an end. Whatever is out there, I can still move forward and succeed.”