When he greets students next month who have enrolled in his four-session class “The Sepulveda Pass: From Creation to Carmaggedon,” instructor and historian Erik Greenberg will be returning to familiar territory.
An absolute precondition for class warfare is class consciousness. And one of the great mysteries of American history is that with just a few transient exceptions, there has been near zero class consciousness here.
It’s May. The grunions are running and so are the members of Occupy L.A. They wriggle up from the cold and dark, plant their tushies on the warm ground and squirm about frantically, desperate to get something accomplished, until a massive tide sweeps them away.
The higher one's income the more likely he will be connected to the Internet, a new survey of Israelis' Internet use has found.
If only those nasty money changers and culture vultures in the seething cities below would just let them sow their wheat and do their books and raise their children up good.
Laptop use involves a lot of controversy, from students who believe they should be used to their maximum potential to those who don't want to see laptops at all.
The gut-wrenching scenes of human suffering witnessed in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina are not only the result of the levee failures at Lake Pontchartrain, but also the failure of a nation numbed to the growing division between "haves" and "have-nots."
What is appearing on television sets across America is the inevitable impact of decades of ignoring a stark difference in economic realities. While wealthy, predominantly white Gulf residents -- and most Jews -- were able to leave the region or escape to higher ground, it was poorer, largely black, elderly and sick Americans who were left behind to fend for themselves.
In the case of New Orleans, high poverty rates already existed before the storm: More than 30 percent of the population lived below the federal poverty line. These are, in most cases, the victims whose bodies we saw floating in the Mississippi River and dying for lack of basic necessities at the New Orleans Convention Center and Superdome.
As a Los Angeles Unified School District teacher of world issues for seniors in Los Angeles, I began yesterday's class by playing a taped interview of Michael Moore talking about his movie, "Fahrenheit 9/11." I had suggested that the class go see the film, so we could discuss it.
Students at UCLA participate in a live teleconference with its sister class at Tel Aviv University in Israel.
For the past two and a half years, I have been the facilitator of a Yiddish reading class at Santa Monica Emeritus College. We are currently completing the reading in the Sholom Aleichem's classic, "Motl, Peyse dem Khazn's" ("Motl, Peyse the Cantor's Son").
Last month, as we began our daily daf yomi class (the daily study of a page of Talmud) we all looked over to the chair where Tibor Reis usually sat, to my immediate right. On the rare occasion when Tibor did not attend, we assumed he was just too tired. After all, traveling by bus each day to downtown Los Angeles takes a toll on an elderly person. But that day it was different. We all felt that, perhaps, Tibor was the fifth unidentified victim of the horrible June 6 airplane crash at a Fairfax apartment building. Unfortunately, the Los Angeles Times identified Tibor as the sole resident of the apartment building to die as a result of the crash.
Rules of etiquette suggest that one must whisper in a library. But for the Jewish Community Library of Greater Los Angeles, that rule is just the beginning.
The library recently held its culminating ceremony for a group of youngsters enrolled in its Children's Etiquette and Social Grace class. This is the first time that the institution has sponsored such a class.
The idea developed after the library director Abigail Yasgur and children's director Sylvia Lowe, children's librarian, enrolled their respective youngsters in an etiquette class.
"Libraries are not just about the books," Lowe said. "They're becoming meeting places for people in the community."
I entered the tea-scented room, took a yoga mat and joined a circle of 20-somethings seated on the hardwood floor.
Each year in January, female friends, co-workers and family members of Nicola Shocket can count on receiving a phone call or e-mail.
David Lehrer may be overstating his case only slightly when he says that most Westsiders are unaware of what goes on "6 inches below the 10 freeway and 6 inches east of the Golden State."
Rabbi Lawrence Kushner tells of the time he brought a nursery-school class into the synagogue sanctuary for a tour. He showed them the bimah, the ner tamid, the cantor's and rabbi's lecterns. Finally, the tiny kids stood before the huge doors of the Holy Ark.