Rev. Calvin Morris Reflects on the Civil Rights Movement

Rev. Calvin S. Morris, Community Renewal Society

Rev. Calvin S. Morris, Ph.D. serves as Executive Director of the Community Renewal Society, a faith-based social justice advocacy organization in Chicago focusing on race and poverty. A civil rights and human rights activist, he worked with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., serving as Associate Director of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference’s Operation BreadBasket (now Operation PUSH) in Chicago from 1967-71. He was Executive Director of the Martin Luther King Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change, from 1973-76. He was also a university professor and theological dean from 1976-1998. Morris is frequently invited to preach, speak and lecture.

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When I came to Chicago in 1967, ostensibly to work on a PhD at the University of Chicago, where I had been admitted hoping to study under the famed African-American historian John Hope Franklin, those intentions were derailed by my college friend, Jesse Louis Jackson, and his challenge to me that it was time to make more concrete my commitment to the Civil Rights Movement of that day. It was an offer I could not refuse, and sometime thereafter I met Rabbi Robert Marx, founder of the Jewish Council on Urban Affairs.

A 1968 Operation BreadBasket rally in Illinois (photo from LIFE.com)

Accepting Jesse’s invitation, I moved to join the staff of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference’s Operation BreadBasket in Chicago. Dr. King was the leader of SCLC and we all served at his pleasure. Rabbi Marx, Rev. Clay Evans, the late Al Raby and Rev. Arthur Griffin, along with the Rev. Donald Benedict, Executive Director of Community Renewal Society, were individuals among many who had invited Dr. King to Chicago the year before.

Jewish History is a Part of My Black History

 

Verna Jaunes, Jewish Council on Urban Affairs

Working at the Jewish Council on Urban Affairs for 12 years, Verna Jaunes is a seasoned JCUA veteran. As office administrator she plays a key role at JCUA providing support to staff and ensuring that all office equipment is functioning.

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In March 1998 I was working for the OfficeTeam Agency as a temp when I received a call for a new assignment at the Jewish Council on Urban Affairs.

At the time I had no idea what JCUA did or what I would be doing there. It was a temporary assignment to help with data entry and other administrative duties. The office administrator gave me a key and said the staff worked on flex time, so I would have to let myself in each morning.

“Okay, how long am I going to be here?” I wondered.

I spent my time in the office dealing with donors and events.  In the beginning I didn’t think much about the fact that JCUA is a Jewish organization.  They were always discussing public housing, CHA transformation plans, policy issues or plans of the community partners at the staff meetings.

The Associate Division and its quarterly gathering, plans for the Annual Meeting and the summer concert at Ravinia, and the Annual Dinner were also discussed.

Getting days off the first year was great! Everyone kept asking me where I worked.  “A Jewish social justice organization,” I’d reply.

“Why are you off so much?”

“It’s a Jewish holiday!”

After a year of that I decided it would be best if I at least learned the names of the holidays and what they represented.

Meeting Rabbi Marx was a great experience. He’d come to the office for meetings with the program staff and speak about why he felt the need to start this organization. The fact that he was willing to go against the majority view and stand for the rights of black individuals to have better homes at fair prices was inspiring.

His decision to march with Dr. King in Marquette Park–knowing that he could be physically hurt and his career goals possibly hindered– gave me a clearer idea of his character. In spite of personal repercussions, Rabbi Marx was willing to speak out for social change in Chicago. I also understood how he could motivate Jane Ramsey to continue the fight against injustice.

Soon I found myself opened to diverse beliefs, which increased my belief in what the organization stood for.

I also had the opportunity to have great interactions with Lew Kreinberg, JCUA’s first staff member. He was the type of outspoken person that always got to the heart of the matter with me. He loved the West Side and was constantly saying the West Side was the best side. He always thought I should get out of the office and work in the community, as he was always working in the community with groups like the Coalition to Protect Public Housing and the Westside Federation.

The office atmosphere encouraged my interest in learning about the people I worked with– their values, their ideas.

I always thought Jewish meant religious. I found out that it was a way of life with a specific set of values and prophetic requirements and that all Jews are not the same–that there are a variety of beliefs.

I’ve had the opportunity to meet young men and women from all around the country who shared a common driving interest in social justice. I’ve listened to their goals and plans for the future. I’ve also spent time with great German interns, who were dedicated, focused and contributed something lasting to the organization.

The passion of Kat Haines for the Ida B. Wells housing residents and Imagine Englewood If…; Stacey Flint keeping us informed on legal changes; Java (Ilanit) Goldberg, and Jessica Aranda for their work with the Latino Union. The time they willingly dedicated to their cause renewed my love for people.

The need to learn and respect others was enforced through interactions with Rabbi Jill Jacobs, Guy Austrian, Annie Grossman, Maria Cruz, Raj Nayak and Patricia Smith. They inspired me to express and explore information for personal reflection.

I learned about team building and working with others from Gretchen Solomon, Brian Gladstein, Josh Prudowsky, Gabriel Machanbanski and Sari Rubin, who wanted cross-training for everyone in order to foster understanding of the different roles each held in making sure JCUA’s mission was met.

The peace and spiritual lifts came from Ari Hart and Asaf Bar-Tura. They made me explore myself and opened my heart to the religious beliefs of others as a way to clarify my contact and willingness to be open-minded and seek the opinions of others. This is good because it helps eliminate the myths and misinformation received through a third party.

The history of Jewish involvement in the Civil Rights Movement assisted in my understanding of the reasons the organization I worked for was constantly speaking out against injustice.

The oppression, segregation, hatred that African-American and Jewish people have suffered through the centuries helps to retain the focus of a coalitional relationship of communities on social justice and other issues.

Working at JCUA has confirmed my belief that the future of the African-American and Jewish community is with the children and the values they hold.

Rev. Calvin Morris Reflects on a Lifelong Friend

Rev. Calvin S. Morris, Community Renewal Society

Rev. Calvin S. Morris, Ph.D. serves as Executive Director of the Community Renewal Society, a faith-based social justice advocacy organization in Chicago focusing on race and poverty. A civil rights and human rights activist, he worked with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., serving as Associate Director of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference’s Operation BreadBasket (now Operation PUSH) in Chicago from 1967-71. He was Executive Director of the Martin Luther King Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change, from 1973-76. He was also a university professor and theological dean from 1976-1998. Morris is frequently invited to preach, speak and lecture.

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In 1954 I met an individual who would be my most enduring and beloved friend. We were both 12 years old.

Paul Ira Keyser and I met at Friends Select School, a Quaker secondary institution, located in center city Philadelphia, just a block or two from city hall and its iconic statue of William Penn, the founder of the city. Paul was a Jew and I an African-American. His family members were Conservative Jews and mine Christian.

We would spend more than half a century learning about each other, our familial backgrounds, our likes and dislikes, our political differences, and a relationship that superseded all of the aforementioned. We became friends for life.

Paul Ira Keyser and Rev. Calvin Morris

We did not always agree. I remember, on one occasion, mentioning to Paul that the American Medical Association did not allow black physicians into its membership. Paul insisted that just could not be, so I suggested that he ask his physician father whether it was. Paul returned to school the next day and admitted that his father affirmed what I had said.

When we met, the second World War was not yet a decade removed, and we talked about the war, the Holocaust, racism and anti-Semitism, and we learned about the troubles of our “tribes”, as Paul referred to them. Montgomery, Alabama and the rise of the Civil Rights Movement was a year away when we met.

I learned from Paul about the American Jewish Appeal and the Anti-Defamation League. He garnered from me an understanding of the NAACP and the Urban League. We talked about everything: our crushes on girls, the varsity sports we played together, and the familial challenges that were ours. Paul introduced me to chamber music and I exposed him to the Negro spirituals, jazz, the blues, and gospel music.

After high school we kept in touch with each other when we went away to different colleges. When I married, Paul was the best man at our wedding, and when he married I officiated at the wedding, since his first wife was not Jewish. As friends we shared our innermost feelings, fears and hopes with each other. We knew each other’s parents and siblings, and when my mother died (I was 26 years old) Paul was there.

There was no event, no aspect of our lives that did not include the other. He became a PhD in micro-biology and I a PhD in American and African-American history. But most of all, we were the best friend that the other ever had. I was an African-American and he was a Jew and since his passing there is, in my heart, an empty space that will never be filled.

Has this anything to do with race relations and relations among Blacks and Jews in the macro? I fear not. But, in the micro world of true individual souls, one a Jew and one an African-American, our friendship endured and, in memory, still does.

Timuel Black Talks About Blacks, Jews and Chicago

Longtime Chicago activist, historian and professor Timuel Black talks about his childhood, military experiences and more in the context of how blacks and Jews fit into the “Garment of Destiny” Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. described in his Letter from a Birmingham Jail.

Part 1

Part 2

“Blacks and Jews”: A Look at the Ups and Downs of a Relationship

Garment of Destiny (http://bit.ly/frFZ1a) takes a look at a documentary called “Blacks and Jews.”

Here is part 1 of 4 excerpts from the film.

Part 2 of 4

Part 3 of 4

Part 4 of 4

“Tied in a Single Garment of Destiny”: Chicagoans Give Their Take on Dr. King’s Powerful Words

Watch as these Chicagoans share their interpretation of some powerful lines in Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” on which JCUA’s Black History Month project, “Garment of Destiny,” is based.

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere,” wrote Dr. King. “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”

Garment of Destiny: Blacks, Jews, Chicago

To celebrate Black History Month, JCUA is producing “Garment of Destiny,” a month-long online multimedia project with the goal of highlighting the rich history Chicago African-Americans and Jews share.

This project uses a wide array of media and voices to highlight relationships and experiences shared by African-Americans and Jews in Chicago. It’s a pathway to further collaboration and understanding between the two communities.

What is the Garment of Destiny?

Katherine Randall, Communications Coordinator, JCUA

The “Garment of Destiny” refers to a line from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail.”

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”

The Garment of Destiny represents the fact that in one way or another, we are all connected. For the purposes of this project, the garment of destiny is the past, present and future relationships/partnerships of Chicago African-Americans and Jews.

Stay tuned for insightful stories, videos and discussions.

For more information on the project contact JCUA Communications Coordinator Katherine Randall at katherine@jcua.org.

Coming Soon: Garment of Destiny

For Black History Month, JCUA will present a multimedia project called “Garment of Destiny: Blacks Jews Chicago.”

Interviews, articles, discussions and videos will be featured. It all begins on Feb. 1

Stay tuned for more.

Burge Torture Survivor Left with “A Growing, Burning Feeling”

By Katherine Randall
Communications Coordinator, JCUA

Anthony Holmes has trouble sleeping at night. He has nightmares and often wakes up in a cold sweat. Holmes spent 30 years in prison for a murder he said he didn’t commit. And though Holmes has physically left prison, his mind remains trapped in thoughts of the torture he endured at the hands of former Chicago Police Commander Jon Burge.

“Jon Burge shocked me and suffocated me and forced me to admit to a murder I didn’t do,” said Holmes. “He tried to kill me. It leaves a growing, burning feeling. I have nightmares and see myself falling into a deep hole and I have no one to get me out.”

Police torture victims (left to right) Victor Saffold, Mark clements, Anthony Holmes and Darrell Cannon. Photo taken by Brian Jackson of the Sun-Times

Holmes was one of several witnesses to testify at Burge’s Jan. 20 sentencing hearing. And though the prosecutors are pushing for a sentence of at least 30 years, U.S. District Judge Joan Lefkow only extended Burge’s suggested sentence of 15 to 21 months in prison to 21 to 27 months.

“That’s a slap in the face to everybody that was in that station house being tortured by Burge,” said Dickie Gaines, a longtime Chicago community activist and friend to several Burge torture survivors. “I think his sentence should be a maximum sentence,” he said.

Zakiyyah Muhammad, another community activist close to several of the torture victims, said she would be okay with Burge’s light sentence under one condition.

“If it can be a life of hell and torture then it can be okay because that’s what Burge put hundreds of men and women through,” she said.

Melvin Jones, another torture survivor who testified at Burge’s hearing, said he was still going through such a life of hell and torture.

“It comes back in my everyday life. It comes back in my dreams. It comes back every day I walk this earth,” said Jones.

Freedom and Justice Seder Entertains and Inspires

Every year, the Jewish Council on Urban Affairs holds a Freedom and Justice Seder to both celebrate Passover and raise awareness of pressing social justice issues. The 2010 Freedom and Justice Seder brought housing, healthcare, worker justice and immigration issues to the forefront of the discussion.

This year’s seder was co-sponsored with Beth Shalom B’nai Zaken Congregation on Chicago’s South Side. You have never attended a Passover seder quite like this!

(Video produced by Katherine Randall.)