Who reading this blog is tired of turning on the news and getting further depressed by stories regarding COVID-19? I imagine this feeling applies to most people in the country right now. No matter how you get your news, I can’t imagine it’s boosting your spirits.  Consequently, let me provide uplifting stories of how businesses, government officials and ordinary citizens are trying to make the lives of seniors during this crisis just a little easier.

Although most of the country is under stay at home orders, too many people still have to go grocery shopping.  As most people are aware, seniors have to be extra cautious when dealing with the public because of COVID-19.  Consequently, trips to the grocery store can be problematic.  Fortunately, stores like Walmart, Stop and Shop, Safeway, Albertsons, Whole Foods and Costco have all instituted dedicated shopping hours exclusively for seniors and other high-risk shoppers (ie. pregnant women and people with immune deficiencies). Hopefully, these hours have made it easier for people to social distance and buy groceries and other necessities. Also, some stores, like Walmart, are putting restrictions on the number of products you can buy in the areas of paper products, food and cleaning supplies.  However, reports indicate that the system is far from perfect, with seniors still reporting large crowds during their designated shopping times.

In Nevada, CNN reported of a group called “Shopping Angels” led by a Jayde Powell, a pre-med student, that takes care of grocery shopping for seniors and disabled people. This is critical for older Americans who just can’t make it outside to get life’s essentials.  Furthermore, the group is coordinating fundraising efforts and working with local business to help those seniors that are financially limited. "We don't want money to be a deterrent," Powell explained to CNN. "If you cannot afford toilet paper or something like that, you're still to reach out to us." It’s also great to see this program catching on, with other people across the country offering to volunteer. Other older Americans, like my wife’s grandmother, have good Samaritans in their buildings knocking on seniors’ doors to see if they can do basic errands like grocery shopping, picking up medications and running to the post office.

In addition, in the beginning of 2020, Maryland started a free “Senior Call Check,” which has turned out to be particularly important given the COVID-19 crisis. The programs is a service for residents 65 years and older, which provides a daily check-in call to seniors and updates on the virus.  If two calls are placed and not answered, the senior’s point of contact will be notified, and if that does not work, the authorities will conduct a welfare check. State Representative Ben Kramer, the sponsor of the program, would like to see it expand from a mere checkup to include information regarding the weather and senior scams. Kramer said, “So, this could give a notice that, 'Hey we want to give you the heads up, this impending storm is coming. You may want to make sure, if you're stuck in your home, that you've got enough food for several days, or your medications are filled to cover you for several days.”

B’nai B’rith, as a sponsor of affordable senior housing across the country is certainly no stranger to people helping their neighbors throughout the crisis. For example, at Strauss Manor in Tucson, Arizona, and Sam J. Stone Covenant Apartments in Peoria, Illinois, staff members, volunteers and residents are pulling together to make masks for people who live in the buildings and their caregivers. At B’nai B’rith House in Claymont, Delaware, Jewish Family Services (JFS) donated food boxes for the residents even before the crisis. However, with help from the United Way, JFS has started to include essentials for residents (shampoo, toothpaste, etc.) so they don’t have to leave their homes. Naturally, these deliveries have been accomplished with social distancing in mind.
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It’s always nice to hear stories about people going above and beyond, especially during times of crisis.  Hopefully, the pandemic will recede soon, but in the meantime it’s nice to hear stories of communities rallying around each other for the betterment of everyone. 

The U.S. killing of Iran’s Quds Force commander Qassem Soleimani and Iran’s subsequent mishandling of its Covid-19 response have left the country in political and economic disarray as its flailing regime gropes for answers.

​Two years into a deep recession triggered by the return of U.S. sanctions, Iran is facing further economic struggles as the Coronavirus promises to shrink the country’s trade and slow its production and services. The death of Soleimani and his close advisors, meanwhile, has left a power vacuum in Iran’s military that has weakened Iran’s momentum in Iraq and in its other spheres of influence, such as Lebanon and Syria.

When Iran first began to exhibit an outbreak of the virus in late January, the regime responded with denials of the pandemic’s scope and predictable accusations that the U.S. both created the virus and attempted to spread it further through medication and equipment. Iran continued to encourage large religious gatherings, continued flights to China, and diverted funds and medical supplies that could have been used to contain the virus. With accurate numbers hard to gauge because of the regime's obfuscation, Iran to date has sustained at least 86,000 cases of Covid-19, more than China and more than any Middle Eastern country other than Turkey. A number of senior officials have tested positive for the virus and at least two members of parliament have died of it. To exacerbate matters, more than 300 Iranians have died after consuming methanol in response to a fake remedy that has spread across Iranian social media.

Soleimani, Iran’s second most powerful figure after Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khameini, had used brutal violence to repress civic movements in Iraq and Lebanon that threatened Iran’s grip on their legislatures. He had also used his security machinery to consolidate a land corridor through Syria and steer the course of the war in that country.

Iran’s recent antagonistic naval maneuvers around U.S. warships demonstrate a desire to project strength in the wake of the U.S. airstrike that killed Soleimani and his core power structure. Eleven Iranian Revolutionary Guard (IRG) speed boats with mounted machine guns harassed American ships in the Persian Gulf. The IRG also launched its first ever space launch as part of a program that could hasten the country’s ballistic missile development. But without the onerous sanctions the U.S. has placed on Iran, the regime would undoubtedly have poured tens of billions more dollars into military spending, as evidenced by the dramatic spike in their military budget in the years following the 2015 nuclear deal.

These crises have thrown into sharp relief some of Iran’s most habitual tendencies: seizing political opportunity rather than improving conditions for their own population; deferring to the religious establishment, including religious practices that ignore social distancing; and, invariably, propagating anti-Semitism. Iran’s health ministry this month sponsored a Coronavirus cartoon contest in which ghastly anti-Semitic illustrations figured prominently.

Meanwhile, the Iranian press has promoted reports claiming “Zionist” culpability for the virus. “Zionist elements developed a deadlier strain of Coronavirus against Iran,” state-run Press TV asserted last month. Of course, this did not stop Grand Ayatollah Naser Makarem Shirazi from conceding that Iranians would be permitted to use a Coronavirus vaccine developed by Israel if “the treatment is unique and there is no substitute.”

Prior to the eruption of the virus, protests swept the country in the wake of the IRG downing of a Ukrainian airliner in January. The following month, parliamentary elections devolved into chaos after the hardline Guardian Council barred thousands of moderates from running. As the crises in Iran mount, the country’s economic, political, and health security may continue to founder. Given the uncertainty of Iran’s future and the threat the regime poses to Middle East stability and Israel’s existence, much hangs in the balance.

You’ve seen him in many guises: the Frankenstein monster, the Incredible Hulk, even as the heart-breaking protagonist of Diane Arbus’ photograph, Jewish Giant with his Parents in the Bronx. But even in his original guise, his dramatic, but very soulless persona, he just can’t be kept down. He is the Golem, whose name and brief and violent existence in the Prague ghetto continues to resonate in novels by authors including Elie Wiesel and I.B. Singer, poetry, plays, comics, operas, ballet and an early film classic whose imagery inspired several generations of those seeking to capture the monster’s persona. 
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Legends vary regarding the larger than life male creature, but one of the most prevalent attributes its creation to the 16th century by Rabbi Loew of Prague, a mystic who in at least one version of the folktale had the power to enervate inanimate clay by means of cabalistic rituals and prayers. Controlled by combinations of Hebrew letters imbued with magical powers, the super strong Golem could destroy any enemy and would be ready to do so in times of trouble. Incapable of thought, the Golem could only obey orders, that is, until it didn’t.  

Now wonderfully restored with color added, the early German expressionist cinematic feature, The Golem (1920), directed by and starring Paul Wegener in the title role (which can now be viewed on YouTube) depicts Loew as a medieval sorcerer who not only violates God’s law by creating life, but does so by calling on the devil for his help. When he loses control over the Golem, the monster violently turns against the Jewish community, wreaking havoc. Characteristic of German films of this era, the use of stylized two-dimensional sets – the endless stairs and crumbling architecture of the nearly animate ancient ghetto – is what sets this movie apart.

An actor who worked for the great Jewish theater director Max Reinhardt, Wegener had become obsessed with the Golem legend in 1913 and had based several of his films on the story.

While thousands of graphic art aficionados are familiar with the many guises of the comic book Golem, his giant form packs the greatest wallop when it can be experienced in three dimensions.  California-based artist Joshua Abarbanel created his first small-scale Golem in 2013 for a Los Angeles gallery show centered around sacred texts. The multi-media artist remembered that “I spent a lot of time thinking about the subject and experimenting with Hebrew letters for both their aesthetic forms and various word associations. Eventually the Golem story came to my mind, especially the version in which the Golem is ‘activated’ and ‘deactivated’ through the power of Hebrew letters.” In this work, Abarbanel fuses the Golem’s physical and metaphysical natures; his sculpture is constructed from a dense wooden latticework of calligraphy referencing its magical birth and unique mission.
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The artist’s monumental, Golem-size version commissioned by Berlin’s Jewish Museum for its 2016 show devoted to the mythic creature will soon be on view again in the city of Worms, where it will be on display at Rashi House for SchUM on the Rhine – from Medieval Era Into Modernity, a city-wide celebration of the region’s Jewish heritage.

As incidents of antisemitism rise across the globe, the need for a vehicle to teach current and future Jews about this subject is needed more than ever. With Passover, we have such a teaching moment in the form of the seder.

The story of the Exodus from Egypt is well-known by Jews and non-Jews alike. We were slaves. We were punished. We won or earned our freedom. With the Seder, the story is digested with great food (yes, even matzah); we welcome Elijah; we sing and, of course, proclaim, “Next year in Jerusalem.”

Months ago, I proposed a Seder of sorts that would remind us every year of the lies that foster antisemitism.

In our isolation this year, as we approach smaller, modified and Zoom-projected Seders, this is an opportunity to tell the story of antisemitism, not thousands of years of it exactly, but through at least 12 lies that represent that story. We can’t forget them and, sadly, neither can our enemies who recite them daily.

Amazingly, even in the face of this epic pandemic, Jews are blamed for the presence of the coronavirus. Actually and tragically, antisemitism is the pandemic that has endured for thousands of years. Perhaps those who perpetuate such lies should practice social distancing. Just as Moses told Pharaoh, “Let my people go,” we would urge Jew-haters, “Just leave us alone.”

So, let’s take note of these dozen lies as a part of the Exodus story.  Feel free to share so this history is heard each and every year. Instead of “Dayenu,” proclaim simply “False.”

• Israel is an illegitimate state and Jews have no claim to the land. False. Artifacts and archaeology prove we’ve been there for 4,000 years.

• The Western Wall belongs to Muslims. Jews have no tie to it. Simply false.

• Zionism is racism. False.

• Israel seeks to be a colonial power. False.

• Settlements are the cause of violence in the so-called West Bank. False. A charter calling for the destruction of Israel is the cause of violence.

• Israel is an apartheid state. False. This is an insult to the institutional racism the world witnessed in Soweto and throughout South Africa.

• Israel keeps Palestinians in refugee camps. False. Palestinians keep Palestinians in refugee camps.

• The IDF operate like Nazi stormtroopers. False. Israel Defense Forces, with few exceptions, are known to defend Israel with great restraint.

• Israel targets innocents at Palestinian schools, hospitals and mosques. False. These sites are used to launch attacks through tunnels and to launch missiles.

• Israel is working to destroy al-Aqsa Mosque. False.

• Israel is to blame for the hopelessness that Palestinians feel. False in so many ways.

• And finally, Jesus was a Palestinian from Nazareth. False.

The Seder has told the story of slavery and freedom for thousands of years. It has been a vehicle for conveying similar willful acts against masses of Jews, from the Inquisition and the Holocaust to the refuseniks of the Soviet Union and beyond, often written into Seders as the fifth cup of wine.

So prophetic are the words in the Haggadah that we have come to understand that in every generation there are rulers who seek to destroy us. By definition, the Seder serves to tell this Exodus story. It is the event, beyond Yom Kippur, that is at the very core of our identity.

​Thus, at a time when antisemitism manifests itself in so many different ways, we must ritually build it into an annual, timeless teaching moment.

​Read Charles' expert analysis in the Jerusalem Post.

I encouraged our leadership last week to call people in their B’nai B’rith circle, simply to find out how they were faring in the Land of the Quarantined. No, we were not asking for money. These calls were casual, “just checking in” phone calls.  As a service organization with roots in people-to-people contact, this was a natural outreach for us.

I made 15 calls over barely two days. They were a chance to say, “Thank you,” “Happy Passover” and “Stay healthy.” One person in suburban Philadelphia was so pleased to receive the call that she volunteered to make calls. “We aren’t going anywhere and are looking for things to do,” she said. 

One of the calls turned out to be the best kind of call one could hope to have. It was to a household in Hallandale Beach, Florida. The person I was calling was not in, but in the course of sharing my message, I quickly learned that I was speaking to Boris Moroz, 98, who said he was a lodge president in B’nai B’rith Canada in 1943. Yes, you read the year right. 

Boris left his birthplace of Lodz, Poland, in 1935, and moved to Montreal one year before his bar mitzvah. He left behind “a lot” of family who perished in the camps. Eventually, Boris would become a homebuilder in Canada and continue in the construction business in Florida, and along the way he learned French, Hebrew and English to go along with his native Polish and German. 

His lodge presidency as a young man in Canada (Mount Scopus Lodge) coincided with B’nai B’rith’s centennial. Wrap your mind around the fact that that was 76 years ago. This fact would make Boris as close to a lifer as anyone could be. Perhaps he’s the longest-ever member of B’nai B’rith International. 

Boris remembers where he was when the United Nations voted on statehood for Israel. “I called a B’nai B’rith meeting to listen to the vote,” he recalled. “Of course, there was a time difference, but this was so important to us, so we stayed up for it. It was terrific.”
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Other phone calls to people in the Land of the Quarantined yielded fascinating nuggets about our brothers and sisters. One person is writing a book; another person who I had heard was not feeling well said he was feeling “great.” He had just had a heart valve replacement.​

So, these small “just checking in” phone calls took less than two hours to make over not even a two-day period. They delivered wonderful results. The value of such good will and chesed is, well, priceless. Let this time of quarantine be a time of connection among our B’nai B’rith family.

Just over half a year has now passed since the start of the Jewish year, whose high holidays are also known as the Days of Awe.

One of the climactic sections of those most sacred days’ liturgy relates:

“On Rosh Hashanah it is inscribed, and on Yom Kippur it is sealed: how many will pass away and how many will be born, who will live and who will die… who by water and who by fire, who by sword and who by beast, who by famine and who by thirst, who by earthquake and who by plague… who will be serene and who will be tormented, who will be impoverished and who will be enriched, who will be degraded and who will be exalted.”

Barely into a new decade – 2020 on the civil calendar, 5780 for Jews – we now approach another apex of the Jewish year, Passover, in decidedly unfamiliar circumstances.

During our commemoration of the exodus, we recall the ten plagues that befell Egypt before it set free its enslaved Jews – including, ultimately, the plague of the Egyptian firstborn, which from Pharaoh’s throne to the humblest of citizens prompted “a great outcry in Egypt, for there was no home in which there was no dead.”

Now, our society faces a new plague – a pandemic, one to which none are immune.

Passover has come to exemplify the coming together of the most basic unit of human bonds – the family – but a pandemic is set apart in its rupture of the social fabric, even at the individual family level. This year, many will be forced to hold their Seder in solitude.

In terms of Jewish religious life, COVID-19 has quickly spurred the most significant disruption (with the possible exception, in Israel, of the 1973 Yom Kippur War) since the end of the Holocaust, whose 75th anniversary will soon take place.

In the global scope of the current outbreak, the impairing of public religious practice not only hearkens back to the Spanish flu of a century ago but may be, plainly, unprecedented.

Preempting the intensive spring cleaning that is customary before Passover – reflecting what should be a deep cleansing also of the soul – we now adjust to hyper-hygienic habits meant to ward off the novel coronavirus.

For many observant Jews, this moment has yielded a first-ever experience of inability to worship communally in a synagogue, particularly on a major holiday. This alone can be traumatic.

Of course, though, religion is just one of the virtually limitless aspects of life affected by a threat that is both invisible and insidious.

During the Seder this year, perhaps there will be extra resonance in the tradition of shedding wine drops from our glasses in a gesture of compassion – even amid celebration – for Egyptians who suffered in the freeing of the Jews from their yoke.

Next week, we can have in mind all those who now suffer. We can think of both the young and old, those living alone and with others, those in hospitals and those without access to hospitals, those with preexisting illness and with brand-new illness, those unemployed and those who will be unemployed, those stuck at home, those without a home, the bereaved and those on the front lines.

This is simpler to do meaningfully now – because “they” could easily become “we.”

After entering a period during which everything from food and toilet paper to the wellbeing of public officials and healthcare workers has been called into question, when we recite the Seder song “Dayenu” – giving praise for each of the blessings bestowed upon us – the looming hardship will make it easier not to take those blessings for granted.

How much we would now value the ability to shake a hand, give a hug, have a guest, go to the market, press an elevator button, receive a package or rub our own eyes in the morning without weighty existential calculations!

If nothing else, in an age when many have fixated on individualism, a pandemic forces a deeper appreciation of community and companionship, collective action and solidarity. A pandemic brings sharp urgency to the words from Ethics of the Fathers, “If I am not for myself, who will be for me? And if I am only for myself, what am I?”

​Passover reminds us of a central motif of the Jewish, and human, saga: redemption – but one can only be redeemed from some sort of affliction. Passover exults in liberation, but it mustn’t be forgotten that the sudden and dramatic exodus from Egypt followed hundreds of years of abject torment.

In Judaism, meaning can be found even in its ordering of the day: “there was evening, [then] there was morning.” Light follows, and is given its very meaning by, darkness.

Until morning breaks, Jews’ prayers take the form of appreciation of all that we do still have, of appeals for deliverance and of stubborn confidence that deliverance will come: “Next year in Jerusalem.” Indeed, two thousand years after dispersion from it, Jews in our time began to be restored to the city at the heart of our collective consciousness.

Soberingly, we are taught that not only individuals, but also nations, are subject to vulnerability, to consequences and the shifting tides of history. In these days of awe, we can recall that none of history’s greatest empires have reigned supreme permanently; most are now not in existence. Only time will tell how the world is altered, even reordered, by a storm as substantial as the current one.

Nonetheless, in this month of salvation, we renew our faith in its arrival again.

When the children of Israel settled in Egypt, the patriarch Jacob – alternately known as Israel – was told, “I am God, the God of your father. Do not be afraid of descending to Egypt, for I will make you into a great nation there. I will go down with you to Egypt, and I will also bring you up.” Tribulation was part of the journey, part of the reality, as much as that can thoroughly elude our will and our grasp.

“‘For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways,’ says the Lord. ‘As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts,’” the prophet Isaiah relays. But he goes on: “So says the Lord, ‘Keep justice and practice righteousness, for My salvation is near to come, and My benevolence to be revealed.’”

​For the first time in most of our lives, many of us are now confined, limited in our mobility, our sense of mastery over our existence. In the diminishing of that unbridled freedom – certainly of being carefree – let us do what we can to support each other, and to take comfort in the promise of return to a more cherished liberty.

Read David's expert analysis at the Times of Israel.

​As millions worldwide are in lockdown due to the current health crisis, it seems hard to believe it was only a month ago that Carnival season was in full swing everywhere from Europe and Asia to Africa and the Americas. Zooming in on parts of Europe, what should have been an otherwise joyous occasion turned out to be a festering den of anti-Semitic displays. Photos out of Belgium and Spain have made their way into international media, depicting Jews as insects and trivializing Holocaust survivors. It is worth looking at these highly troubling incidents in historical context. What is a nearly 1000 year old tradition of celebration has brought forward unexpected challenges to our ethics and morals today. Carnival began as a tradition in the Middle-Ages, as a moment of indulgence before Lent. Parades, extravagant costumes and excessive consumption of food and drink were all typical elements. In parallel to the joyous spirit, an anti-Semitic streak of satirizing - and in many cases abusing -  the Jewish community developed as well, much in the spirit of the widespread Jew hatred of the time. Throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, in Rome, rabbis in the Jewish Ghetto were marched through the city streets and mistreated by the crowds. In a letter by the Jewish community of Rome, Pope Gregory XVI was asked to stop this annual march. He is said to have replied: “It is not opportune to make any innovation.”

Indeed, this seems to still resonate. Between Feb. 21st and 23rd this year, the carnival in the Belgian town of Aalst was taking place, sparking outrage after showcasing anti- Semitic imagery akin to that seen in Nazi Germany in the 1930s. The carnival’s organizers distributed many so-called “rabbi kits,” encouraging attendees to wear hooked noses, sidelocks and black hats. Flocks of attendees dressed in costumes depicting Jews as vermin, the mocking of circumcision, the depiction of Jews controlling international institutions and the ridicule of Jewish religious sites were center stage within the parade. The 2020 edition of the Aalst carnival came on the back of harsh global condemnation following the incendiary edition of 2019, where a float depicting ultra-Orthodox Jews surrounded by bags of money and rats led to the delisting of the festival from the UNESCO Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.

Only days after the Aalst festival, Carnival arrived in the Spanish region of Castilla-La Mancha, in the small town of Campo de Criptana. There, a troupe of dancers dressed as Nazi officers and concentration camp prisoners were accompanied by a float featuring a menorah and two crematorium chimneys. The Spanish case sent a chill up the spine of the Jewish community - not only was the float in Spain shocking, but, following the displays in Aalst, it painted a picture that such displays were becoming commonplace.

It’s worth noting that – turns out - the circumstances of the two carnivals were significantly different. In Spain, both authorities and the carnival were quick to recognize the inappropriate nature of the performance. A statement was swiftly put out by the local municipality condemning the troupe and the association responsible for the float declared that it had failed to deliver “the message of awareness and respect that we had wanted to transmit.” Indeed, it would appear that the Criptana carnival wished to pay tribute to the victims of the Holocaust, albeit in a vehemently misguided way. That might not be much consolation, but it stands in stark contrast with the attitude seen in Aalst, where the carnival organizers, alongside the authorities, were purposefully trying to provoke and incite the reaction of the Jewish community as a sort of badge of honor to the carnival’s unapologetic spirit.  
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While the underlying perspective of the two events differs, there are common learning points – and as we look towards next year’s Carnival season, it is them we should be focusing on:

• Education is key: What we saw in both parades was a lack of understanding among the general public as to why the displays were offensive. Whether it is a lack of sensitivity towards adequate memorialization of the Holocaust, or downplaying how stereotypical depictions of Jews can lead to discrimination and even violence, these educational shortcomings must be addressed – through proper teaching about the Holocaust, as well as the history of Jewish life and its diversity today.
• More oversight: as we experienced firsthand the harmful outcomes of the carnivals, we must demand accountability in future editions about the content displayed. Whether this falls under the responsibility of carnival organizers or local municipalities may vary from place to place, but regardless of the setup, organizers should not be able to shield themselves behind the decisions of individual revelers. This can take the form of guidelines and sets of values for float creators, or it can mean required submissions of descriptions from groups of the floats they intend to display or other creative solutions.
• Strong reactions from authorities are crucial: The displays we’ve witnessed may not be illegal – and in fact, constructive solutions are likely educational, not punitive. Yet authorities do play a crucial role: that of speaking out, channeling the concerns of the communities affected and reinforcing the norms and values that should not have allowed these manifestations in the first place.

 
As we expect next year’s Carnival season – that will hopefully find us in calmer times than we are living through today - we must work to put in place all these protections to ensure the festival is not about marginalization and stigmatization, but about celebration and inclusion.

What a difference a month makes. A month ago, my colleagues and I were going up to Capitol Hill to talk with congressional offices about the fiscal year 2021 budget. It was that time of the year again, when organizations like B’nai B’rith advocate to Congress about funding for affordable housing for the upcoming fiscal year. As always, these types of meetings were scheduled to take place over the next couple months.  Unfortunately, as everyone knows by now, the world looks very different because of the COVID-19 pandemic. Offices have been closed, meetings have become phone conferences, schools have shut their doors and cities and states have installed massive restrictions on travel. Working from home has caused me and countless other people to go a little stir crazy. However, this might give everyone a sense as to what too many seniors throughout our country experience every day. According to the University of Michigan and the American Association of Retired People (AARP), one-third of older Americans (ages 50 to 80) suffer from loneliness. 

Obviously, given the new guidelines from the Center for Disease Control regarding social distancing, problems associated with social isolation are only going to get worse. Social isolation amongst seniors can have negative impacts on their health. For example, according to the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering and Medicine, social isolation can lead to an increase risk of heart disease, depression and mortality. 

So how can we encourage older Americans to say connected with family and friends while still staying at home? Seniors who have the technology can stay in touch by using video chatting services, social media, phones and texting. Alan Teo, a physician teacher at the Oregon Health and Science University’s School of Medicine, reported that video chatting helps fight depression associated with social isolation in adults 60 and older. According to the data, video chatting (compared to instant messaging, social media and email) is the most effective form of communication to fend off depression.

In addition, seniors can communicate with other people by participating in online faith-based services. For instance, houses of worship have moved their services to the web so everyone can still participate. This a great way for seniors to stay connected with their community without having to leave their home. 

It’s not just social isolation that’s a problem for seniors during this pandemic. The most pressing issue is how we can keep our older Americans safe. Seniors are particularly susceptible to COVID-19, so guarding their safety is incredibly important. B’nai B’rith, as a national sponsor of low-income senior housing across the country, is very aware that precautions need to be taken to ensure our resident’s well-being.  Our sponsored buildings have already cancelled community events like educational classes and parties in the building. In addition, hand sanitizers have been placed throughout the properties and building staff have been given instructions on how to ensure their own safety, as well as the residents. Furthermore, buildings have encouraged everyone to practice “social distancing”. 

At the B’nai B’rith Goldberg Towers and the Pasadena Interfaith Manor in Houston, beginning in mid-March staff contacted all their residents, making sure they had food and medicine to last through the end of the month. Additionally, building staff offered to help those residents who were unable to get their food and medications. Also, there are plans in place to regularly check-in on residents through April. Lastly, staff has been instructed to wear hand gloves when entering a resident’s apartment to ensure the safety of everyone.  
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Almost everyone either has an older adult in their family or part of their social circle.  With COVID-19 sadly having no end in sight, now would be a great time to contact the seniors in your life. Even if they don’t need help getting life’s necessities, video chatting or talking on the phone for a few minutes could go a long way in their physical and mental well-being.