Articles by Amy Hirshberg Lederman


Passover, Me and Bobby McGee

The year was 1968: the Vietnam War was raging, psychedelic music and drugs were “in,” Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated a week before President Johnson signed the  Civil Rights Act and the Beatles released the White Album to mixed reviews. I was about to enter 9th grade and amidst the free love and political…


Jewish roots in nature

On a hot August day in 1959, I sat cramped in the back seat of our Thunderbird among suitcases, pillows and my annoying 13-year-old brother for what seemed like the longest trip of my life. Amid melting crayons, half-eaten sandwiches and bouts of carsickness, I whined for most of the eight hours it took to…


Words of Wisdom NEVER Grow Old

I grew up in a house where words were the currency by which my brother and I gained recognition. Unlike most of our peers, where parental approval was dished out for things like making the varsity team or getting straight A’s, my dad’s highest form of praise came as a result of  the words we…


To Life: Home is where the art is!

Passover is my favorite Jewish holiday for the very simple reason that it is the holiday where we are commanded to ask questions. In addition to having the chance to celebrate together with family and friends, it is a time when, as Jews, we cultivate our curiosity by telling the Passover story and by engaging…

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