Just like any kid with a b’nai mitzvah around the corner, 13-year-old Sara Korn is really looking forward to, well, the post-ceremony party.
“The pool is going to be heated!” Sara exclaims, referring to her luau-themed party Saturday, June 4, in Oakland.
Sara’s mom, Jeanne, laughs as she shows off the blinking light-up lei that she’ll be wearing. “It’s a big occasion, but it’s worth it,” says Korn about the all-day event, which begins with a 9:30 a.m. service at Temple Beth Abraham and ends with make-your-own ice cream sundaes at the local pool.
The truth is, this is more than just any “big occasion.”
“I’m the only special-needs kid who’s having this,” Sara declares matter-of-factly. “It’s so exciting!”
When Rabbi Mark Bloom came to Oakland’s Temple Beth Abraham four years ago, the Korns introduced themselves: “Hi, we’re Jeanne and Stuart Korn, and we have a daughter with specials needs. We’re not sure if she’s going to have a bat mitzvah.”
But Bloom would allow no room for uncertainty.
“He said, ‘Do it!’ That kind of turned our heads around,” says Korn. “I’m unbelievably proud of her!”
Says the rabbi: “From the moment that I met her, I had no doubt that she’d be able to do an awful lot for her bat mitzvah. Sara has always liked to lead prayers. She loves it and she feels it.”
An awful lot, indeed.
When Sara was in fifth grade at Hebrew school — she has been mainstreamed with the kids at Beth Abraham since kindergarten — her teachers discovered that “she had a real affinity for learning Hebrew,” Korn says. “By the end of the year, she knew the entire Friday night service in Hebrew. By the end of the sixth grade, she knew the whole Shabbat service. She surpassed me in her abilities.”
She especially loves chanting.
When Sara’s mom asks her what having a bat mitzvah means to her, Sara’s green eyes, a shade darker than her mother’s, light up.
“I’m good at Hebrew and I’m good at swimming,” she says. “I’m good at anything!”
“She’s developmentally disabled,” Korn had explained earlier from outside their Montclair home, as she waited for Sara to come home from school. “All of this has been so unexpected and amazing. She has shocked everyone.”
Korn recalls picking up her daughter every week from Hebrew school over the past few years: “Every time I saw her teacher, she said, ‘Can you believe her?'”
“If we had not given her a chance, we would never have known,” adds Korn.
In addition to attending Hebrew school, Sara took part in innovative programs in the East Bay for kids with different learning abilities. In “inclusive Jewish education” at the Berkeley Richmond Jewish Community Center, for instance, Sara learned Jewish education through music, movement, art, touch and the use of Jewish ritual objects. Thanks to a grant from the Jewish Community Federation of the Greater East Bay, Sara also took part in a new program at Beth Abraham to further Jewish education for children with special needs.
Korn is grateful for all the support, especially every teacher’s “willingness to sit down with her, and modify class instruction.”
When Sara climbs out of her carpool van after school, the first thing she does is check the mailbox for any remaining RSVPs. She’s keeping a mental list of the 120-plus guests coming.
Sara’s four grandparents will be there, with more family flying in from New York, Florida and San Diego — along with her entire bat mitzvah class at Beth Abraham, teachers, therapists and friends. Sara’s 9-year-old brother, Gregory, is excited, too.
Helen S. Cohen, an award-winning filmmaker in San Francisco who is raising a special-needs daughter, will be there, too: she’s making a documentary on special needs b’nai mitzvah kids. Leon Borensztein, an Oakland photographer whose daughter Sharon was born with multiple disabilities, will be taking pictures.
“The Korn family and I are having a contest,” says Bloom, “to see who can hold back the most tears.”
Jeanne Korn says the most meaningful part of the day for her will be when Sara puts on her own tallit — pink and purple, her favorite colors — which symbolize that she’s officially joining her Jewish community.
“This is so important to her,” says Korn. “We’re saying, ‘This is your place.’ That’s the part where I’ll be crying.”
Next year, Sara will be helping out in the kindergarten class at Hebrew school. “She wants to work in child care when she grows up,” Korn says. “She’s so nurturing and gentle.”
In the meantime, over an after-school snack of yogurt and popcorn, Sara is getting revved up about her party: “We get to dance and play games,” she says. “I have some friends who are great dancers.”
Her mother adds: “No matter how you slice it, what she’ll get out of this is a good feeling for her Jewish identity and her community.”