Patience

July 17, 2025 | Third Thursday Thoughts
Dawn LaRochelle, Executive Director

Place a letter after a letter, a syllable after a syllable, a word after a word — and a line, a poem, an essay, a novel is born.

— B.Y. Bialostotzky (1893 – 1962)

Fact: my life is governed by Rosie and Tina, my bonded pair of ten-year-old miniature Rat Terrier rescue girls. Weighing in at less than 20 pounds combined, these tiny tyrants rule me with iron paws (plural). Don’t get me wrong — most of the time, they’re the chillest, snuggliest doggos on the planet. We call them “lap landers”: if you have a lap, they will land on it. To meet them is to adore them, unless you’re a chipmunk (then, run!).

But… there’s a “but.”

Come mealtime, my angel girls transform into wild-eyed bark machines. They leap like caffeinated jackrabbits, demand dinner with operatic urgency, and attempt to French kiss my nostrils as I duck and dodge with food bowls in hand. “Be patient!” I scold. Alas, patience, as I’ve come to learn, is not a Rattie trait.

And if I’m being honest, it’s not a Dawn trait, either.

I’ve never been good at waiting. As a toddler, I met my newborn sister and burst into tears when I realized she couldn’t walk or talk or play. When my parents said, “Give it a few years,” I wailed like they’d told me she’d be fun around retirement age. Flash forward to high school, ninth-grade Modern European History, and our revered teacher, Mrs. Karanas (to this day, I have no idea what her first name was; back when I was young and dinosaurs roamed the planet, all teachers’ first names were honorifics). Her favorite classroom mantra — always aimed straight at me — was: “Patience is a virtue we all must attain.”

Spoiler: I have yet to attain it.

Even now, my cooking passions test me. Let onions caramelize slowly?! Don’t open the oven while the soufflé rises?! Simmer matzo balls covered for a full 30 minutes without peeking?! Torture. Absolute torture. I want the sizzle, the puff, the payoff — now!

Here’s the thing, though: just because you can’t see progress doesn’t mean nothing is progressing. Magic is often slow, quiet, and happening just out of sight. Sometimes, what looks like nothing is actually something becoming.

Which brings me to the Maine Jewish Museum.

Lately, much of our most meaningful work is happening behind the scenes. Less glitter, more glue. Our biggest quiet project? Rebuilding the Documenting Maine Jewry (DMJ) website, which now lives under the MJM umbrella. This is a serious undertaking that requires time, strategy, and broad community input. Over the next year, we’ll be:

• Auditing and organizing the current site’s vast content
• Conducting community research to understand what users value — and what would inspire new audiences (if you’re interested in contributing your thoughts and ideas here, whether you are a current user or not, please contact us at )
• Redesigning and rebuilding the platform to be more accessible, engaging, and evergreen

While this unfolds, we’re also helping users continue their own research and contributions. And we’re migrating our photo and document collections to a Colby College digital platform for better long-term preservation and access. You might not see all this work yet, but trust me — it’s percolating. And it’s going to be good.

Meanwhile, one very visible, very exciting fruit of months of behind-the-scenes labor has just ripened: the Portland Maine Jewish History Trail (PMJHT) is officially live. PMJHT is the first public-facing outcome of our DMJ-MJM merger and a thrilling new way to engage with Maine’s rich Jewish story. To set the stage, picture this: you’re strolling Portland’s East End, biking toward Woodfords Corner, or driving down Middle Street — and with a tap on your phone, you’re traveling back in time. Stories emerge. Landmarks come alive. You realize the city beneath your feet is layered with Jewish memory. That was the inspiration for DMJ founder emeritus Harris Gleckman and community treasure Ed Schultz to create the blueprint for PMJHT, which was then lovingly brought to life by Riva Krut in Harris’ honor. The Trail is built from primary sources, archival records, and DMJ’s deep database.

Here’s what makes it so compelling:

• It’s a trail of trails — five curated walking, biking, and driving routes
• It’s layered — tracing Jewish life from the immigrant years on Munjoy Hill through business and cultural growth downtown, and into post-WWII suburban shifts in Woodfords Corner, Deering, and beyond
• It’s portable — you can use the website on your phone or tablet as you explore Portland, and an app is coming soon

More than a history lesson, PMJHT is a self-guided journey through time and place, one that connects the personal with the historical, the past with the present. Stay tuned for our “official-official” launch in September, but check it out in the meantime and let us know what you think at .

We are also making headway on the first phase of concept development for MJM’s Historic Exhibition Refresh. With our exhibition developer Melissa Martens Yaverbaum and the brilliant minds at Bryan Potter Design, we have begun to imagine possibilities for the exhibition’s curatorial approach, the nature of the visitor experience, and thematic emphases. The Design Team will be flying in from California next week to immerse themselves in our Museum and community and help us narrow down our ideas. Want to be part of the vision? Email me at .

Speaking of vision, I am going to tease you just a bit: we’re developing a powerful new exhibition inspired by the DMJ storytelling mission. It’s called “&,” it’s slated for Spring 2026, and it includes over 200 photographs of Jewish Mainers from every corner of the state. That’s more than 1% of Maine’s current Jewish population, yo! Details coming… eventually. For now, you’ll have to (wait for it) … be patient.

Of course, there’s plenty that doesn’t require waiting. Our newest Art Exhibition Series is now open, featuring:

• Eric Finzi (of Finzi-Contini fame)’s Return to the Garden
• Anita Rabinoff-Goldman’s Seeing Torah: A Visual Midrash, a jaw-dropping visual diary documenting the artist’s study and response to each of the 54 portions of the Torah over the cycle of a single Jewish year
• Jack Montgomery’s ode to Italy, To Rome and Beyond

Our lush Museum garden is in peak bloom, as is our Summer in the Garden series. Tonight, the famed Challah Back Girls will teach lucky attendees how to step up their challah braiding game (great preparation for showing off those mad braiding skills later this Fall at the Jewish Community Alliance of Southern Maine’s Great Big Maine Challah Bake) at our SOLD-OUT event, Twists of Tradition: A Community Challah Braiding Workshop… in the Garden! And tomorrow, the Challah Back Girls will be back for Dine and Unwind: A Vegetarian Shabbat Dinner… in the Garden! No sun, no problem – both events will be moved indoors among our magnificent art displays. A full-body workout more your jam? How about Mastering the Art of Self-Defense: Krav Maga Essentials…in the Garden! There’s something for everybody at MJM!

Finally, back to what’s quietly growing outside the Museum garden: our fantabulous Program Coordinator, Rebecca Moudachirou, and I recently attended a deep-dive workshop at the Yiddish Book Center in Amherst, Massachusetts. We came back bursting with energy and ideas and cannot wait to bring more Yiddish language, music, culture, and laughter into MJM’s programming.

Because sometimes, you start with just a letter. A syllable. A song. A story. Place one after the other — with time, care, and a little chutzpah — and something truly beautiful is born.

Warmly,

Dawn LaRochelle

Executive Director