By now you have likely seen the publicity or email we sent regarding the case of Esteban Pavez. I want to take a moment to speak about his sentencing, which has raised questions for many of you. Before doing so, however, I feel compelled to pause and share what brought me to this point and what was on my mind as I sat in the courtroom, waiting for the proceeding to begin.
After law enforcement arrested Mr. Pavez, they told me that this detention was unusual, highlighting the seriousness with which they handled the matter. They remanded him and kept him in custody for some time. Eventually, the prosecution asked whether I would provide a victim impact statement on behalf of the community. As I learned more about the details of the case, I became deeply shaken and increasingly concerned. I conveyed these feelings in my statement.
The court offered me the opportunity to present, but I had reservations about being in the same room as the person who committed this act and felt vulnerable. We all need to reach out and ask for support when we need it. I asked RCMP Cpl. Paronuzzi if she would accompany me, and I am profoundly grateful to her for being there with me.
How do you prepare for a moment like this? I needed a distraction during my drive to the courthouse and began listening to the Call Me Back podcast by Dan Senor, featuring Rachel Goldberg-Polin in an episode titled The Why of Passover. While I consider myself Jewishly literate, I always learn so much from Rachel. Her wisdom, insight, and spiritual and moral grounding are deeply centering.
Rachel explained that at the Passover seder, when we dip our pinky into the wine and place a drop on our plates for each of the 10 plagues, we are deliberately removing a bit of our celebratory drink—taking away from our joy—because we do not wish to delight in the suffering of others, even those who caused us immense pain. Even in moments that are horrific and heartbreaking, we choose to remain human.
As the sentencing and probation conditions were read aloud in court, I thought of this teaching. Mr. Pavez nodded in my direction as he exited the courtroom. When we left, a reporter from the Edmonton Journal asked about my reaction to the sentencing, and I shared this perspective. In our tradition, we do not take pleasure or satisfaction in the suffering of our enemies.
Knowing that both the Crown and the judge treated this case with the seriousness it deserved—and that deterrence was explicitly addressed—another feeling surfaced for me: relief. I did not fully recognize it until I finished the podcast and continued listening to Rachel.
She spoke about the difference between relief and glee, explaining that even in moments such as the war with Iran and the defeat of a regime responsible for widespread violence, we are not triumphant. Relief comes from the realization that someone can no longer harm us, and it carries a very different emotional weight.
I hold on to the hope that the measures put in place will both contain Mr. Pavez and support deradicalization, and that these consequences will deter others. I am also heartened by the messages of concern and solidarity from so many fellow citizens who have written and called to express care for our community and for the shared values we hold as Canadians.
Finally, as we prepare for Passover—both physically and spiritually—I want to acknowledge what our brothers and sisters in Israel are experiencing right now, and the hope they continue to hold for a future of peace in the region. I am quoting from our Director General, Sarah Mali:
In our philanthropic work, we are usually planting seeds, trusting that impact will come over time. We measure results, we read assessments, but seldom do we witness, in real time, just how life-saving that work can be.
In Kiryat Shmona, since the start of the war, we have seen exactly that. Our emergency funding has enabled the continued operation of the city’s central mental health clinic for children and adolescents. The Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver’s investment in a reinforced safety room has made it possible for the clinic to function under relentless pressure, even as Hezbollah and Iranian rocket fire continue to target the city at the heart of the Coast-to-Coast partnership region.
Without that safety room, the clinic would be closed. Children in acute psychiatric distress—cases that have surged since the war began—would simply go untreated. At the same time, the investment in staffing capacity by the Coast-to-Coast communities and the Emergency Forum; Winnipeg, Ottawa, Calgary, Edmonton, Halifax, London, Windsor, Victoria, small communities, Hamilton and private philanthropy from the latter, has enabled the clinic to expand its capacity in ways that would otherwise have been impossible.
These investments came into sharp focus this week. A little girl in Kiryat Shmona became so overwhelmed by fear, after a direct hit by a missile in the vicinity, that she remained in a public shelter for three days, immobilized, unable to leave. Because the clinic was operational—and because it had the staff to respond — its leadership made the unusual decision to send a team into the shelter. A psychiatrist and an art therapist worked with the little girl (and her dog) there, patiently and creatively, until she was finally able to emerge, safely and calmly to her home.
Sometimes we invest in bricks. Sometimes we invest in people. In this case, it was both and they quite literally changed the outcome for this child, and for many others. But behind it all was something even more fundamental: the foresight, commitment, and generosity of our communities led by our federations.
You can read more about the toll this moment is taking on Kiryat Shmona, and the extraordinary advocacy of Sarah, in this eJewish Philanthropy article. In the meantime, we have released Edmonton Israel Funds for the child and adolescent psychiatry unit at Ziv Medical Centre, providing urgently needed inpatient equipment in response to the increased demand for care.
As we gather around our seder tables and retell the story of our exodus from slavery to freedom, we should remember that freedom is never abstract—it carries with it the responsibility to act, to protect, and to care for one another. May this Passover strengthen our resolve, deepen our compassion, and renew our hope. I wish you a meaningful and safe Chag. Chag sameach from our staff and board to all of you.
Shabbat Shalom,
Stacey