JR's Poetry Editor Liz Cashdan, who hosted a workshop and volunteered at Limmud, gives a first-hand account of the festival

According to the website, "Limmud is a place for community, learning, empowerment, diversity, debate, laughing, dancing, families and volunteering” and that's no exaggeration. Before the 2019 festival, which ran 22-26 December, I’d been to Limmud just twice: a day session in Bristol in the summer of 2018 and Limmud Festival at Nottingham University in 1998. This time I offered to volunteer and, not knowing what to expect, I found myself holding up trays to help the meal queues move faster. When I wasn’t doing that I grabbed a sandwich (veggie and gluten-free) and sat with strangers who soon became new friends.

I also presented two writing workshops: one on family memories for adults and one on collections for eight-year-olds. The kids wrote about collecting magazines, shells, brooches, money ("because it’s useful") and one small lass collected love, which was one of the most touching moments in the whole five days.

Elsewhere, an American psychologist spoke about the grandchildren of Holocaust survivors being more resilient than other children because they own the stories. I felt compelled to argue, because I've had experience telling my cousin's Holocaust survival story to kids in an ex-mining village near Leeds and they identified with my cousin's situation. Perhaps it was the way they heard the story, but perhaps it also chimed with stories of mining disasters in which their own grandparents were involved. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to tell the psychologist that story.

I learned about the Na’omod movement, which uses non-violent protest to influence the views of diaspora Jews about Palestinians; I discovered the Jewish organisations supporting Extinction Rebellion; and about Labour Party staff who resigned because of the increase in complaints about antisemtism, although they did not quit the party itself. Linked to these issues was an event featuring Israeli-American writer Moriel Rothman-Zecher, who read from his novel Sadness is a White Bird. With a title taken from a poem by the Palestinian poet Mahmoud Darwish, the book tells of a man in the IDF who falls in love with Palestinian twins, Laith and Nimreen.

Great talks are in abundance at Limmud, and another I attended – Eva Frojmovic on Judaica collected by Cecil Roth – made me nostalgic for my days at Oxford University, when Roth was a lecturer. It also sent me to my own bookshelves at home to find a collection of drawings by Russian architect George Loukomsky. The introduction is by Roth and among its dedicatees is my father, IS Trilling. Even more interesting are the drawings of the synagogue in Zabłudów, Poland, which is where my mother’s family (the Kaplanskis) came from. So even if you don't attend Limmud with your family, they'll undoubtedly be with you in memory.

As for the lighter side of the festival? Laughter came in the evening at Not the Gala (not to be confused with the official Gala), which artfully toed the line between humour and insult. But that's the beauty of Limmud, you can make your political points freely. It is a place for all to be heard, to learn, to feel a part of a family and so much more. Time to register for Limmud 2020!

By Liz Cashdan

Photos courtesy of Limmud

To find out about future Limmud events, visit https://limmud.org