Category: Social justice

We Went, We Talked, We Had A Great Day: CA Lobby Day, 2017

Image: Rabbi Rebekah Stern (left) and Rabbi Mona Alfi lead our discussion with Senate President Pro Tempore Kevin deLéon. Photo by Rabbi Ruth Adar.

As you may recall, on August 22 I went with a bunch of other people to Sacramento, CA for Reform CA Lobby Day.  Here’s the summary I wrote for the Religious Action Center, and which appeared today on their blog under the title Can politics be a holy activity?

Tuesday, August 22, 2017 was Reform CA Lobby Day, a project of the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism. 100 social justice activists and organizers from Reform congregations all over California converged on the state capitol to advocate for justice in our state.  We had four goals:

  1. To connect with one another and Reform CA
  2. To present ourselves powerfully to President Pro Tempore of the California State Senate, Kevin de León
  3. To train in lobbying and political action, first by learning and then by doing
  4. To help pass our two priority bills:
    1. California Values Act (SB 54), which prevents the use of California state and local public resources to aid federal Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE)
    2. Money Bail Reform Act (SB-10), which ensures that people are not held in pretrial detention (jail) simply because of their inability to pay bail. This bill would require that a pretrial services agency conduct a risk assessment and prepare a report that makes recommendations on conditions of release for the accused pretrial. …

 

For the story about the rest of the day, you can read about it on the Religious Action Center blog.

 

If you are a Reform Jew and you live in California, I totally recommend working with Reform CA. I’ve learned how to visit my representatives’ local offices with a group, I’ve learned how to make a 10 minute meeting count, and I’ve had the satisfaction of working with others on issues that matter to me. I am so glad I have learned how to do these things! Here’s how you can participate:

  1. If you are a member of a Reform congregation in California, call the head of your social action committee and ask them about Reform CA.
  2. If you are not a member of a Reform congregation, consider joining! This is the sort of thing congregational life makes possible.
  3. If you want more info, you can read about it on the Religious Action Center (RAC) website and ask more questions there. The RAC offers information, support, and tools for Jews and allies who want to pursue justice via political action.

And now, to the coda of this adventure. I took the train to and from Sacramento. I used Lyft to get around. Somewhere in my travels (I am pretty sure I know when) I hurt my back badly, and I’m still getting over it. That’s why this blog has been so quiet of late. I will post more as I’m able to sit and do so.

With all the trouble and pain, I am still glad I went. I have felt so frustrated about the things I see going on in government, and this gave me an opportunity to take effective action. I plan to write lots more about that, and soon.

Shavua tov! (Have a good week!)

 

#Resistance, #Disability, and #Antifa

Image: Stephanie Woodward of Rochester, NY was taken out of her wheelchair and removed from the hallway outside Sen. Mitch McConnell’s office. (AP Photo/Jacquelyne Martin)

During the struggle to keep the Affordable Care Act intact, many of us were horrified by the images of disabled activists being dragged down the hallway outside Senate Majority Leader McConnell’s office. By simply being there and offering only passive resistance, they made a powerful protest.

Since #Charlottesville, I have heard increasing rhetoric about the need for active resistance, with hashtags such as #PunchANazi proliferating on social media. There’s a growing feeling among many on the left that the situation is too dire for nonviolence. They see this as a time to fight back, and they mean that in physical terms.

Some people do this fighting back as part of Antifa (Antifascists) which is not a single organization but a loose network of smaller organizations and individuals. As a movement, it started in Europe and is now very much a part of the scene at demonstrations in the U.S. I first became aware of them during the Black Lives Matter protests in Oakland, where they were infamous for looting and damaging local businesses. However I am also aware that they defended the non-violent clergy and others in Charlottesville, so I am conflicted. I am unwilling to demonize the whole movement as I read in some of the media.

Heather Ure (@riotheatherrr)  on Twitter published a thoughtful thread about what the growing acceptance of violence from the left means for disabled protesters. She pointed out that putting down nonviolence or dismissing it erases disabled people, old people, and kids. As Heather wrote:

I’d like to take that a step further and say that as a disabled person with certain medical vulnerabilities, I have to stay away from most demonstrations because of the escalation of violence on the left. I’m willing to be beaten up or worse by bad guys, but when friendly fire starts looking likely as well, it seems foolish to go at all. As an aging, fat white woman with a Southern accent, I’m well aware that people make inaccurate assumptions about me all the time. I look and sound like the people you imagine wearing a red MAGA cap.

So I stay away from demonstrations unless it’s the sort of thing where it’s appropriate to wear full rabbi drag (tallit & kipa.) I hate this. I want to be there. I want to stand up for what is right. I just don’t want to get hurt by the people who agree with me.

I also worry that many right-wing Americans are ruled more by fear than by racism per se. (The two are intimately entwined, but that’s another post for another time.) Violence from the left provides a rationalization for more violence from the right. It provides a rationalization for equipping the police like an army. It muddles the line between good guys and bad guys.

This post is more about questions than answers. I don’t have answers for the present situation. I just have questions such as, “How can I be most effective?” I lobby, I teach, I write, I use social media, I vote. It doesn’t feel like enough.

Dear Readers: What do you currently do as part of the #Resistance? What do you feel is your most effective way of fighting anti-Semitism, white supremacy, racism, homophobia, and all the other evils of our time?

Some of you may be tempted to reassure me or to tell me what you think I should do. Not interested, sorry. But I would love to hear what you are doing.

Justice and Idolatry: What’s the Connection?

Image: Four Ancient Egyptian Gods. (PublicDomainPictures/pixabay)

Justice, justice shall you pursue, that you may thrive and occupy the land that the LORD your God is giving you.

You shall not set up a sacred post—any kind of pole beside the altar of the LORD your God that you may make— or erect a stone pillar; for such the LORD your God detests. – Deuteronomy 16:20-22
The first verse above is one of the most famous in all the Torah. “Tzedek, tzedek tirdof!” it commands with mighty emphasis. It sits right at the beginning of Parashat Shoftim, or “Judges.”
One of the traditional ways to study a line of Torah is to look at what precedes and what follows the verse. There are many different kinds of Biblical context, but one of them is the physical context on the scroll.
In this case, the follow-up to“Tzedek, tzedek tirdof!” seems like a non sequitur. It is a commandment against idolatry via the Asherah pole or a stone pillar, either of which is an idol. So we might ask: what’s the connection?
(I can hear some practical soul among you saying, “Rabbi, there’s no connection. The Bible is full of non sequiturs!” That’s absolutely true. The text is full of them. However, it is part of traditional interpretation to see if we can make a connection, if by looking at the apparently unconnected neighbor of a line, we can gain insight on it. I find that it is a great way to shake up my thinking about a verse.)
God detests idolatry. It’s one of the major themes of Deuteronomy: don’t make idols, don’t hang out with idolaters, don’t even think about idols. In the historical period when this book was written, that meant, don’t worship any god other than the one named Yud-Hey-Vav-Hey who brought you, Israelite, out of Egypt.
Archaeologists tell us that in fact there was a lot of other-god-worshiping happening in the Land of Israel at the time. The goddess Asherah, wife of El, was particularly popular – hence all the commandments against setting up Asherah-poles. That’s the reason we have so many repetitions of that particular commandment.
So we have first, a famous verse commanding the pursuit of justice. Following it, there is a commandment against idolatry.
We now live in a different time. Our idols are usually not made of stone, and we don’t usually call them “gods.”
On August 11 and 12, 2017, a group of people gathered in Charlottesville, VA, because they loved the statue of a dead man and they wanted to preserve it. It was so important to them that they put on a show of weapons and violence. They marched with torches, with weapons, and chanting angry slogans.
They were there for a more complex set of reasons than a statue of Robert E. Lee. They felt that a respectful memory of the Confederacy is important. They feel a way of life changing, and they don’t like it.
Other people – many of the local citizens of Charlottesville – felt that it wa time for that way of life to change, because that way of life, to them, is called racism. That’s why their city government had taken steps to get rid of the statue.
Now I ask you: is it not idolatry to take a statue so seriously that it is worth a show of violence? Is it not idolatry that a woman was killed by someone who felt he was defending the statue?

Racism is in fact a modern brand of idolatry. It insists that some human lives are rightly privileged above others. It contradicts the Jewish concept of B’Tzelem Elohim, that all human beings are made in the image of God.

I want to take it one step further: any time we decide we’re going to pursue justice, we need to worry about idolatry. I’m certain that every one of the pro-statue group marching in Charlottesville would have told you that their cause was just. And yet it was anything but just: it put a piece of metal ahead of human life! Their cause privileges some lives above others: white lives above black lives, or Jewish lives, or immigrant lives. (If you think this is an exaggeration, take a look at the slogans and symbols from that march. )
Now, lest my readers think this is just an exercise in pointing out where Other People are Messing Up, let’s turn this insight upon ourselves.
When we decide to pursue justice, we need to ask ourselves about idolatry. Not “whom do I worship on Shabbat,” but “What or whom do I prioritize above all else?” Specifically, when I think I’m doing justice work, I need to examine and reexamine my priorities: for whom am I doing this work? Who benefits? What’s my payoff for doing the work, honestly?
If I fight for justice when “justice” will also keep people I don’t like out of my face or my neighborhood – what am I really worshiping?
If I fight for justice, but only if it won’t cost me a dime – what am I really worshiping?
If I fight for justice, but only if I always get credit for what I do – what am I really worshiping?
We can be idolaters in the 21st century. If I want to know what I worship, all I really need to do is to take a hard look at what’s most important to me. What am I willing to defend with my reputation, with my money, with my life? About which issues do I say, hey, it’s not worth it?
We are in the month of Elul, the month leading up to the High Holy Days. One very good way to spend Elul is to take some time to think quietly about the gods we worship. Whether we call them “gods” or we call them “priorities,” every person alive has them. Even those who will say “I don’t believe in God” have something that concerns them above all else.
The Christian theologian Paul Tillich wrote at great length about a concept of God he called “Ultimate Concern.” We all have one, something that is more important than anything else to us. Whatever that may be, it is the thing we worship.
To be a Rodef Tzedek, a pursuer of justice, we must know exactly whose justice we are pursuing. This takes brave and bold honesty, a willingness to know ourselves.
This Elul, let’s ask ourselves, “What or whom concerns me above all else?” The answer will be found not in our words, but in our deeds. It’s there in our budgets. It’s there in our priorities. It’s there in our choices about what to do with our time and our energy.
Then and only then, with that self-knowledge firmly in hand, can we be sure that the justice we pursue is the justice of which the Torah speaks.

Learning to Lobby

Image: Rabbi Sara Mason Barkin welcomes us to the #ReformCA Lobby Day. Photo by Rabbi Ruth Adar.

I’m in Sacramento today with Reform California, a group of Reform Jews who have organized to do social justice work via the legislative process at the state level. I am a bit ashamed to admit that I’ve never even been in the California State Capitol building before today. However, I’ve been making up for lost time: not only am I sitting this moment in a meeting deep inside the building, before I found this room I took the wrong elevator and got to know some terrific people: the maintenance staff who really keep the place running.

OK, now I’m going to start learning.

Bila’am Revisited: Showing Up in Alameda

Image: The sign in front of Temple Israel of Alameda, CA. From their website.

Temple Israel in Alameda, CA was vandalized this week. Someone came by during the night Wednesday and broke two windows, and tried to break the glass doors of the synagogue with rocks. In the wake of the white supremacist violence in #Charlottesville, this was even more upsetting than it would normally be to local Jews.

Temple Israel is a small synagogue of only about 100 households. They have a part-time rabbi. They are about 15 minutes from my home, so I planned to get myself over there for Friday evening to show solidarity with the congregation. Then the emails began to come in – our rabbi, Rabbi Jacqueline Mates-Muchin was organizing our congregation, Temple Sinai, to show up in a group. There was to be a vigil with the Alameda mayor and city council before Shabbat services.

As it turned out, it was a real community affair: lots of Jews, lots of friends of Jews, and lots of Alamedans who were furious that some lowlife had brought such shame on their town. We heard from all the community leaders: from the mayor, Trish Herrera Spencer, the vice mayor, Malia Vella, and our state assembly representative, Rob Bonta. The acting chief of police gave his report and told us that the vandalism was being investigated as a hate crime. It was clear to anyone present and to anyone watching the report later that night on TV that the vast majority of Alamedans intended to send a message to bigots: bigotry is not welcome in their city.

Then we adjourned to the sanctuary inside to have Shabbat services.

Even though a lot of people left after the vigil, the little shul was jammed with people. One member of the temple staff had asked me if I’d do a reading in the service, so I sat in the front row. When I stood at the lectern to read the blessing, I was so moved by the sight of the crowd that I had to comment on it. What I was thinking was actually from a prayer in the morning service:

!מַה-טֹּבוּ אֹהָלֶיךָ, יַעֲקֹב; מִשְׁכְּנֹתֶיךָ, יִשְׂרָאֵל

How lovely are your tents, O Jacob, your dwellings, O Israel! – Numbers 24:5

The man who speaks those words in the Bible, Bila’am, goes on orders of King Balak to curse the Israelites, but he finds that he is unable to do so. Instead of a curse, he delivers a blessing. It is a beautiful blessing, and we repeat it in every morning service.

In much the same way, an evil person came to curse the Jews of Alameda with terror. Broken windows carry a dark meaning for Jews ever since Kristallnacht, a night of pogroms that was in many ways the opening salvo of the Holocaust. In breaking those windows, though, he succeeded in bringing out the good people of Alameda and the surrounding Jewish communities to comfort and strengthen the Jews he had intended to terrorize!

The evening also brought home to me the power of showing up. The people who came brought comfort and strength to a community. I am strengthened in my resolve to show up, to be visible in my support, for all minorities who are suffering and terrorized in this present time. I am resolved to show up more often for more people: in this particular time of bigotry, Jews are a target but not among the main targets. We Jews need to show up for African Americans, for immigrants, for Muslims, and for others who are in the cross hairs of white supremacists.

Have scooter, will travel! This week I’m going to Sacramento with ReformCA to lobby for prison reform. Our prisons are not places of justice. While someone who commits a crime should pay a price for that crime, that’s not how our justice system is working today. If you are interested in learning more about that, I recommend the film on Netflix, 13th.

I’d love to know where you are showing up to support the oppressed. Leave your stories in the comments section!

Part 2: 10 Things We Can Do Now About #Charlottesville

Image: “Seek Justice” written on a brick wall. Art by Rabbi Ruth Adar.

This message is aimed primarily at readers in the United States. It is a follow-up to the previous post Part 1: Why #Charlottesville is Different.

We can:

  1. Remember that we are all in this together. We Jews may have disagreements on some topics with each other or with other groups, but now is not the time to focus on that. What we have in common with Black Lives Matter and other minority groups is that white supremacists hate us all. Benjamin Franklin once said, “We must, indeed, all hang together, or most assuredly, we shall all hang separately.”
  2. Write, fax, call, and email our Congresspersons and Senators, demanding that Congress forthrightly condemn the events in Charlottesville and the ideology of white supremacy.
  3. Write the White House, condemning the President’s support of white supremacists and his association with staffers like Steven Bannon and Sebastian Gorka who have publicly espoused “alt-right” ideology. We each have to decide exactly what we will ask him to do.
  4. Write our local papers asking for a clear statement from our local officials condemning white supremacy. This is one time when it’s good to be a NIMBY.
  5. Support organizations that track and fight hate in the USA. This includes the NAACP, the ADL, and the Southern Poverty Law Center.
  6. Get on the mailing list of the Religious Action Center.  It describes itself as “the hub of Jewish social justice and legislative activity in Washington, D.C.” The RAC is a great place to learn about social justice initiatives and to join with others to protest injustice. If not the RAC, find some other organization where you can combine your effort with that of others.
  7. Recognize that there are Jews of Color, people who face both the oppression of anti-semitism and the oppression of racism. Learn about them. One place to learn is the website of Be’chol Lashon, “In Every Voice.” Another is JIMENA, Jews Indigenous to the Middle East and North Africa. Recognize that there have been Jews with brown or black skins back to the very beginnings of Judaism.
  8. Drop the defensive attitude about other people’s oppression. When someone talks about their people’s troubles, we should not immediately reply “But not all of us…” or “But Jews are oppressed too…” When someone is talking about their people’s troubles, we need to LISTEN. Just listen. If they ask for a response, say, “I’m listening.” Listen and learn.
  9. Educate ourselves. We have a responsibility as Jews to study and to learn. Start with one article or book. Then read another. Some reading lists from the internet:
    1. Curriculum for White Americans to Educate Themselves on Race – articles as well as books
    2. Tim Wise’s Reading List – categorized by topic
    3. White People Challenging Racism reading list
    4. Suggested Reading from the Social Justice Training Institute
  10. Speak up. I have an awful time speaking up to my elders, but the situation is dire. When someone says something hateful or disparaging about people of another race or religion, we must speak up. I have been practicing in front of the bathroom mirror, saying firmly: “I don’t like that kind of talk. Please don’t.”

These are things we can do. If you have ideas about more ways to fight this situation, I hope you will suggest them in the comments.

Justice, Justice you shall pursue! – Deuteronomy 16:20

 

Part 1: Why #Charlottesville is Different

Image: Charlottesville “Unite the Right” Torch Protest – Photo from CNN.org.

This is Part 1 of a two-part series. If you are already upset and wish to skip to action items, you can find them at Part 2: 10 Things We Can Do Now About #Charlottesville.

The events in Charlottesville are a wake-up call to all of us who were asleep. People marched with Nazi regalia, with racist and antisemitic slogans in an American city and the President of the United States had to be prodded to say more than platitudes. The Justice Department had to be prodded into action.

Folks, we are beyond the pale.

This is the moment when we define who we are. This is the moment to speak up if you are going to.

In 1999, after the Sacramento synagogue bombings, my mentor said to me, “The thing you have to watch, to know the situation, is to see how the authorities react. There will always be fringe people who do hateful things. But as long as the authorities clamp down on it immediately, as long as you feel sure the authorities react appropriately, there is nothing to worry about.”

Now, in 2017, we have something to worry about.

White supremacists gathered from all over the country in Charlottesville, VA, to protest the removal of a statue of Robert E. Lee and to “Unite the Right.” They called themselves, variously, “Alt-right,” “Nazis,” “Neo-Nazis,” “KKK,” and similar titles. They waved Nazi and Confederate flags. Their slogans were overtly racist and anti-semitic.

Counter-protesters met them. Taunts led to shoving, shoving led to brawls. Then one of the white supremacists rammed his car into a crowd of counter-protestors, killing one woman and injuring 17 others. All in all, at least 37 people were injured.

The President’s response?

We condemn in the strongest possible terms this egregious display of hatred, bigotry and violence, on many sides. On many sides. It’s been going on for a long time in our country. Not Donald Trump, not Barack Obama. This has been going on for a long, long time. – As reported by CNN.

“On many sides.” – He repeated it twice. Many neo-Nazis have taken the equivocal tone of his response as approval for their agenda and tactics. According to Business Insider, most of the comments on Stormfront and other such sites have been appreciative of the President. Some felt he was not firm enough in his support of them; David Duke of the KKK tweeted:

While the Department of Justice is doing its job,  the President’s position remains tepid. His staffers pushed him for a firmer response, and pressure built for him to say something more definite to condemn the white supremacist message, but he is currently at the golf club and saying nothing.

In the past, there has been at least lip service from the White House against white supremacy. This is a giant step back, back to the bad old days.

It’s officially time to worry. In fact, it’s time to do more than worry.

My next post is a list of action items. I invite you to join me in doing more than worrying.

What We Can Do Today About Nuclear Threats

Image: “Baker Shot”, part of Operation Crossroads, a nuclear test by the United States at Bikini Atoll in 1946. Image via Wikimedia.

When I am extremely anxious, one of the ways I can help myself is by taking action.

I don’t have control of the “nuclear football.” I don’t have control of Kim Jong-Un and his decisions. I can’t do anything directly about the shouting match he is having with President Trump.

But my Jewish values demand that I do what I can to preserve life and not lay waste to the earth. Here’s something I can do.

Congressman Ted Lieu and Senator Edward J. Markey have introduced the Restricting First Use of Nuclear Weapons Act of 2017.  It prohibits the President from launching a nuclear first strike without a declaration of war by Congress.

To me, this is a no-brainer, and probably should have been done long ago.  I am going to contact my senators and my representative in Congress, asking them to step up and support the bill today. I want them to do what needs to be done to get it on the floor, up for a vote, and passed.

This is something I can do. I invite you to join me in doing what we can to limit the use – and the threat of use – of nuclear weapons.

Three Texts for Changing the World

Image:  “I Can Change the World, Every Child Counts” painted on a schoolhouse in South Africa. (henkpijper/pixabay.)

Do you want to change the world? Here are some texts for help and encouragement. One is ancient, one medieval, one modern.

Anxiety in one’s heart saddens it, but a good word gladdens it. – Proverbs 12:25

It is tempting to criticize. However, when we scold and scold without a word of encouragement, no one has the heart to keep on going. Therefore it is important to to put as much energy into encouragement as it is into criticism. Reward good behavior, always. Encourage any move in the right direction.

Proper generosity involves not only money and goods, but also power . . . Generosity with power entails using [the power] bestowed [on us] by God to help those in need.  – Rabbi Abraham Maimuni in The Guide to Serving God.

It is not enough to give to good causes. It is also important to share power. Sometimes that means listening instead of talking, encouraging instead of criticising, serving instead of insisting always on leading.

We must continue to remind ourselves that in a free society all are involved in what some are doing. Some are guilty, all are responsible. – Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel

It is easy to point at others and say, “That person is doing a bad thing!” We must also look within and say, “What am I doing that contributes to the bad situation? How can I contribute to real change?” Some are guilty, yes, but all of us are responsible to make things better.

 

 

Our Voices Matter, When We Use Them

Image: Men and women at a town hall meeting. (public domain)

A while back I wrote about the ethical implications of the new healthcare bills in Your Money or Your Life – Why the AHCA is Contrary to Torah. At the time I was writing about the healthcare bill in the U.S. House of Representatives, but its ugly sibling, the Senate’s Better Care Reconciliation Act of 2017 was if anything worse.

Tonight we received the good news (and the majority of the American people appear to agree that it is indeed good news) that there are not sufficient votes in the Senate to pass the bill. This happened not because of derring-do in Washington D.C., but because ordinary citizens let their elected officials know how they felt about the bill. Thousands and thousands of Americans called, emailed, faxed, tweeted and wrote to their senators. Hundreds of others took even stronger action, staging die-ins, demonstrations, and various actions to dramatize their feelings about the legislation.

And their senators listened!

The Jewish tradition teaches us:

When the community is immersed in suffering, a person may not say: I will go to my home and I will eat and drink, and peace be upon you, my soul. – Taanit 11a

Everyone who spoke up to protest this cruel legislation deserves credit for saving lives. It is up to us to keep on emailing, faxing, tweeting, and writing, to keep on showing up at town meetings, to let our elected officials know what we want and what America needs.

It is not enough to have opinions. It is not enough to yell at the TV. Our opinions only count when we make them known to the people we have elected to represent us. We cannot simply sit at home and grouse about the “bad people” “out there.” We must use our limited resources and energy in the most constructive ways available to us: showing up at the polls for every election, staying in touch with our reps, keeping an eye on the news.

What we learned today is that we can make a difference.

There is still more to do. People need decent jobs, decent affordable housing, and healthcare. We need to find an ethical and effective solution to the situation of immigrants and migrant workers. Climate change threatens our national security and the existence of many species, including our own. We need to secure basic human rights for so many of our citizens and for those who want to become citizens.

Torah demands that we act. The good news today was that when enough of us act, good outcomes are entirely possible.