I Will Not Become Complacent

On Tuesday, November 22, over 250 people from across Chicago came together with JCUA to reject bigotry, racism, and anti-Semitism, and to rededicate themselves to standing with the oppressed. Rabbi Megan GoldMarche of Metro Chicago Hillel delivered these powerful words.

On election night, my wife, Paige, and I decided to host a party for our college students. We figured it would be a historic night – we’d eat red white and blue popcorn and feel good about America, and progress, and the fact that our country validated our values.

As we sat down to watch the election returns, it was clear we had made a mistake.  While it may have been good for the students to be in a safe place surrounded by friends and supportive mentors, this was not the party we had envisioned, and both Paige and I were unprepared for the reality of the returns.

The days that have followed have involved counseling students who are scared for their own rights as queer young people; who are worried about friends whose status in America is less secure than their own, worried about access to birth control and health care, and have fears about where America is going.

I also heard from students who felt judged because they did not vote for Clinton. Or because they supported Trump. Or because they decided not to vote.  I listened to them as well.

I spent the days following the election listening to all of these voices. I spent my free time reading the hundreds of emails that flooded my Jewish community leadership listservs, signing petitions, texting friends in disbelief, and mostly feeling a bit numb.

On the Sunday after the election, sitting in the Philadelphia airport, I finally broke down listening to Kate McKinnon in her Hillary garb singing Leonard Cohen’s Halleluyah on Saturday Night Live. I sat and cried as I played the video again and again until Paige had to make me stop.  I was crying because the narrative I had been telling myself about the passage of time had been crushed. I believe the arc of history bends towards justice — this is my experience, this is my reality as a woman rabbi who in 2016 can be out as a lesbian living in a house purchased by generous donors under the auspices and with the support of the Jewish United Fund in Chicago where my wife and I serve as role models for young Jewish adults.  The America I live in is good to me. It was good to my grandparents who were children of immigrants and worked to provide for their families.  It has been good to my parents, who were able to raise my brother and I with every luxury a person could need, in the Chicago suburbs where I felt safe as a Jew and woman and eventually where I was able to come out at age 28 and celebrate marriage equality passing two years later — and 9 months after that marry my wife with 18 rabbis in the room — America and Judaism has been good to me.

Voting Matters

In September, JCUA joined ONE Northside to register voters in Chicago.  Read these reflections from some of our participants, and if you haven’t yet, GO VOTE!

I am so grateful to JCUA and for the opportunity to work with them and ONE Northside to help me fulfill my Mitzvah Project for Voter Registration. Even though I’m not old enough to vote, I believe it is vital that everyone who CAN, exercises their right. We are lucky to be living in the United States where we have the opportunity to make change through voting. If we want change in our country the best way to do so is through voting for our candidates.

I learned a lot by organizing the voter registration night in Uptown. I first organized a mini phone bank for the event and JCUA brought in others to help me achieve my goal. After a brief  “how to” we set out at the Wilson and Lawrence El Stops and for two hours encouraged commuters to register to vote and spoke with them about their values and concerns this election. In total the group I organized registered 24 voters! Not only did we get people registered we also got them thinking about the election and made sure that everyone knew that voting matters.

– Carter, Temple Sholom Bar Mitzvah Student

 

“Last week I participated in JCUA’s event to register Chicago voters in time for November’s election. It was my first time out canvassing, and I was feeling nervous. ‘There must be a better way that I could add value to this election and to our Jewish community?’ I thought. Canvassing is challenging. I was assuming that the last thing people want to do after a long day of work is stop and talk to a complete stranger.  I know I run into canvassers all the time, and I admit, I don’t stop.

My first 10 minutes out at the Wilson El stop, I was met with pretty much that response: people rushing by not listening to me or saying ‘No thanks’ without realizing I wasn’t trying to sell them something. I stayed strong though, you can’t take these things personally.

I was struggling with the script I was supposed to be using. It seemed lengthy and wasn’t rolling off my tongue like I felt it should. During the training they had instructed us to make it our own, so I decided to make some adjustments.  Instead of trying to engage people in conversation right away, I moved to just asking a quick question:  ‘Are you registered to vote?’  I thought this would work, but instead what I think people still heard was ‘Stop and talk to me about this election.’ No dice. We are inundated with election banter, and it can feel overwhelming to get into all the issues with a perfect stranger.

So I decided to get right to the point by saying: ‘I can register you to vote right here, right now!’  This worked so well! I actually had a woman turn around and come back to me, once she heard those words.  She repeated back: ‘I can register now?’ ‘In about a minute,’ I replied.  Done.  Easy.  I then captured the attention of another person, a man who had no internet, and didn’t have time to go downtown to register.  He was registered in less than 2 minutes, and was so grateful that I had been there to help him with what seemed to him like a daunting task.  We high-fived and hugged, and I then changed my spiel just one more time:  ‘Register to vote here, and get your free hugs there!’ ..pointing towards my new friend. He had turned my skeptical self into a grateful participant, with more faith than ever in the human spirit.”

– Susie Linker, JCUA Member

 

I Never Really Left Or Tzedek

By Sydney Bakal
2016 Or Tzedek Summer Participant

REGISTRATION FOR OR TZEDEK SUMMER 2017 IS OPEN!
Sign up before Jan. 15, 2017 to receive the Early Bird Discount.
Let Sydney, one of last year’s teens, tell you why you should.

This summer I participated in JCUA’s Or Tzedek summer institute, a program for teenagers in high school who want to explore Chicago and social justice work through a Jewish lens. In 12 days, Or Tzedek taught me so much, and encouraged me to keep learning and questioning. I want to paint a picture of just one of our evenings together this session, because it really reflects the intentional community Or Tzedek seeks to build…

One evening sitting down at the dinner table with our homemade stir-fry, we began discussing theatre. I’m not exactly sure how we ended up on the topic, but I shared that my school had done a production of The Wiz, and none of the lead characters were people of color. I was uncomfortable because the show is a re-imagining of The Wizard of Oz, reclaiming the American dream for people of color. Others shared that they too were uncomfortable; however, one individual said it would only be inappropriate if people of color were turned down for roles because the show was intended to create more lead characters who were people of color. Another individual said it would be a waste for such an amazing show to not be put on more often and that the music is for everyone. We debated and threw out many arguments, even talking about Fiddler on the Roof and The Diary of Anne Frank performed by non-Jews. We discussed the nuances, complexities, similarities, and differences. Even after dinner, our conversations followed us to the car and to bed.

Experiences like this one were so interesting because we got to speak our minds and hear others’ opinions judgement-free. I now have more tools and a better understanding of issues that I had never really gotten to talk about in the past.

I loved all of the different workshops we did throughout program. We expanded our understandings of privilege, oppression, police accountability, restorative justice, gun-violence prevention, community organizing and more. Most of all, I learned how to listen and how to have conversations about complex issues. Coming home I wanted to continue these conversations. I am currently planning a legislative activism program for my youth group, events to explore and learn about Englewood, and a workshop using theatre games to teach about power and community.

I feel that difficult issues are often put on the back-burner to maintain the comfort of the privileged. However, those who are oppressed must live the difficulties every day. We can only break down systems of oppression if we recognize that they exist. I never really left Or Tzedek; I try to question normative values and existing systems. I’m still having awkward and disquieting conversations, and I hope I can improve the systems of which I’m a part.

Shout Loudly and Don’t Hold Back

By Ben Halbig
JCUA Board Member

JCUA Board Member Ben Halbig gave this drash at Mishkan’s Yom Kippur morning services for the Isaiah Haftarah . As we move into this new year, Ben asks how can we do more? How can we make this year reflect “the fast God really wants?”

“Good morning. I’m Ben. I grew up on the East Coast, but Chicago has been my adopted home for the better part of the past decade – first as an undergrad in Hyde Park, and now as a practicing lawyer living in the Gold Coast. Mishkan has been my spiritual home in Chicago since I moved back after law school. As a Chicagoan and a Mishkanite, I am honored to be sharing a few thoughts on what we are about to read together.

This has been a rough year for Chicago.

Almost a year ago – just before Thanksgiving– a judge ordered the city to release a video showing a CPD officer emptying his 9 millimeter semi-automatic rifle into an unarmed high school student. The video of Laquan McDonald’s murder tore at the heart of the city.

I remember live-streaming the protests on Black Friday 2015 in my parents’ house in Maryland. You know what has stuck with me all these months? Not the thousands of young activists pleading for justice on Michigan Avenue but Channel 5’s interviews with angry shoppers whose plans for holiday bargains had been ruined by the march. “Why today?” “Why here?” “Why can’t they just protest in their own neighborhood?”

I wish I could stand here and tell you how I am not them, how I would have been with the protesters. But the truth is – I know in my heart of hearts, I am a shopper. I am an employed white man living on the North Side of Chicago. When I think and talk about violence in in our city, it’s something that happens to other people. I don’t know anyone who has been shot this year. I don’t fear for my life when stopped by police.

Isaiah’s words in the passage we read today can be disheartening in the middle of the day on Yom Kippur. He’s essentially telling us that, after about 18 hours of fasting, praying, and asking to be inscribed in the Book of Life, we are doing it wrong. This is not the fast God wants.

You’d think after all these years of reading Isaiah’s words, we might get it right. But his message seems to be really hard for us to hear. What makes it so hard to hear?

Linking Values to Action

By Iszy Licht
JCUA Member

I first connected with JCUA two years ago through my work as a student activist at Northwestern University. I was the President of a new student group on campus committed to working against gun violence, Northwestern Students for Gun Violence Prevention. We volunteered at the JCUA’s 2014 Freedom and Justice Seder. This event was both meaningful and inspiring, providing me with an opportunity to learn more about the devastating impact of gun violence on Chicago’s communities, while also celebrating and putting into action my Jewish practices and values. I have been an enthusiastic member of JCUA ever since.

I believe in a Judaism rooted in action and social justice. Tikkun Olam, the traditional Jewish concept urging individuals to engage in social action, has always been a major component of my Jewish identity. Through my parents’ values, volunteering experiences, Jewish education at Solomon Schechter and Chicagoland Jewish High School (now called Rochelle Zell Jewish High School), and college courses on racial and socio-economic inequalities, my Jewish identity has become inextricably linked to my beliefs in progressive values and equality.

Or Tzedek is for You

By Abby 
Or Tzedek Alumni – Summer 2016

As someone who has had her fair share of experiences with programs targeted at Jewish teens, I can confidently say that Or Tzedek was one of the most meaningful experiences that I’ve ever had–Jewish or not. Or Tzedek is unlike any other program in that it combines politics, identity, activism, independence, community organizing, urban exploration, group living and Judaism all in one.

Or Tzedek is unique because it is open to all denominations of Judaism and therefore attracts a wide variety of Jewish backgrounds and experiences. This gives an added layer of sophistication and wisdom to all activities and conversations within the program. Despite our differences, everyone in Or Tzedek – the staff, campers, and community partners – has a passion for making the world a better place. Whether sitting around the dinner table, walking around Chicago, or listening to a workshop, everyone’s devotion to being the change they want to see in the world permeates everything we do.

The itinerary for Or Tzedek caters to all interests and sections of social justice work. Whether your thing is direct service or community organizing, Or Tzedek has it all. This past summer we did some of everything: registering people to vote, handing out lunches to those in need, tours through the city, workshops on identity and privilege, picnicking in Millennium Park.

Another really fantastic thing about Or Tzedek is the Kehillah, or community. You really get a chance to get to know everyone, and the program is designed to build one community, not split off into small groups. Even if you don’t know anyone going in, everyone is extremely open and welcoming. If I had to choose one thing that I took away from Or Tzedek it would be the people.

The staff are some of the loveliest people you will ever meet. They have so much love, empathy, grit and integrity, and it shows. The group of teens that Or Tzedek attracts cannot be replicated anywhere else. Every single person has a shared goal: to be kind, smart and respectful. I challenge you to find a group of people anywhere else that can provide the same support and kindness that the people in Or Tzedek have.

So to anyone considering signing up for Or Tzedek: Do it. Whether you’re a seasoned social justice warrior or just getting started, Or Tzedek is for you. No matter how prevalent your Jewish identity is in your life, Or Tzedek is for you. If you’re looking for an awesome group of people Or Tzedek is for you. If you love the city and urban living Or Tzedek is for you. If you just want something productive to do with your summer, Or Tzedek is for you.

Reflecting on a Year of Organizing

By Anna Rubin
JCUA’s AVODAH Organizing Fellow Emeritus

As part of closing out my year as a community organizer at the Jewish Council on Urban Affairs, Marla Bramble, the Director of Organizing at JCUA and my supervisor, asked me to reflect on what I expected this year to be like beforehand, and what it has been in reality. This piece of reflection has been challenging for me because I really had no idea what to expect coming into this year. For any of it. What would my housemates be like, what would my job be like, what would Chicago be like? What even is community organizing?

After 11 months of work, programming, and bayit reflection sessions, I can’t say I’ve totally figured out community organizing. But I definitely have a better sense of what it is and what its place is in the Jewish community in Chicago and in my own life.

Organizing this year has looked like many different things for me: I marched for a just budget during Moral Mondays downtown, I occupied the capitol in Springfield while singing “We Shall Overcome,” I shouted “Si se puede” alongside domestic workers after a long day of lobbying. I’ve had the opportunity to work with so many individuals and organizations who are working to combat our city’s problems and challenges through intentional, grassroots, systems-based organizing and action.

But at the beginning of the year there was often this lingering doubt in the back of my mind. I heard speeches and stories from young, black, queer organizers from Chicago who are leading the charge for comprehensive trauma care, police accountability, and an end to the ever-rising death toll in our city. I saw the news stories about the fierce parents of the Dyett hunger strike, who were my first real exposure to people putting their bodies on the line fighting for justice.  And at times I felt like organizing Chicago’s Jewish community was a cop out. As we know, a majority, though certainly not all, of Chicago’s Jewish community lives life with a certain amount of comfort and relative socioeconomic ease. On the most surface level, these battles and others don’t appear to be many of our battles.  Why organize the Jewish community at all? Or to put it in Community Organizing terms, what is my self-interest in focusing my work on galvanizing my fellow Jews?

But after a bit more time, what many of my coworkers and members had been saying to me all year finally sank in: These are my people I’m organizing! There is no race, region, activity, hobby, political affiliation, etc. that I identify with more strongly than I identify with the Jewish community/Judaism. And 1:1 after 1:1 this year (side note: 1:1s are intentional conversations, they are an organizer’s bread and butter, and they are probably the most defining component of my year), I spoke with members of the Chicago Jewish community who told me that their Judaism is also inextricably linked with a personal pursuit of justice in some meaningful way. I’m sure many of you here tonight would say the same thing. I hear the Jewish call for justice being echoed in individual after individual in our city, and I want to help fan these flames. I want to be a part of a community that heeds the imperative for action that is now central to my Jewish identity.

This identity has been shaped enormously by these 1:1 conversations, as well as the countless conversations I had with my housemates this year. My roommate, Sarah, and I often stay up late talking about fears and hopes surrounding our new Jewish community and our personal Jewish identities. Some of my favorite AVODAH programs this year have pushed my housemates and me to think critically about what we want our Jewish community to look like and how we can, and should, be a part of making that change happen.

Through AVODAH and JCUA, I’ve realized that, if the Jewish community is going to continue to be my community, then I have a responsibility to hold us accountable to our values and to ensure that we act powerfully in the world in pursuit of justice. That’s my self-interest, and that’s why JCUA’s work is essential. I view it as a great privilege that I was able to organize my own community this year and to feel deeply connected to our victories and fears.  I am excited to continue to be a JCUA member and to build my own power as well as the power of a Jewish community pushing for transformative social change in Chicago. And while I am sad indeed that my year in the bayit is coming to a close, I am bolstered by the knowledge that I now have a houseful of people who will not shy away from holding me accountable to my values – our shared values – and who will push me to always organize and show up with my Jewish pride at the forefront of my identity.

Building a Jewish Organizing Voice

By Ben Goldsmith
JCUA Member

On July 10^th, I was thrilled to attend Jewish Council on Urban Affairs’ first daylong community organizing training for members. On a clement summer Sunday, 30 JCUA members spent eight hours learning the nuts and bolts of organizing, connecting with each other, and discussing what a Jewish voice in social justice organizing sounds like. The strength of member interest in this training says a great deal about the appeal of JCUA’s contributions to the University of Chicago trauma center campaign and the Domestic Worker’s Bill of Rights campaign to members of the Jewish community. It says that members of Jewish communities throughout Chicago are connecting with JCUA’s vision and are hungry for opportunities to work for social change by organizing Jewishly. For most members in attendance, this was the first formal organizing training. As a full time tenant organizer, I have gone through Organizing 101 types of trainings in the past but I had never trained in community organizing with an emphasis on Jewish values, or what JCUA calls “organizing Jewishly.”

The training was led by JCUA’s Director of Organizing, Marla Bramble, Jim Field, Director of Organizing with Chicago Coalition for the Homeless, and Aryeh Bernstein, a JCUA member and consultant. JCUA members learned about building and leveraging people power, and equalizing power relations to change the minds of decision makers. This included practical skills, including the basics of organizing an accountability session with an elected official or other decision maker, and the effective framing of an organizing campaign. Members also tried their hands at the all-important 1-on-1: the bread and butter of community organizing. In a 1-on-1, the organizer builds a relationship with a community member through…

From the Many, One

By Lisa Bendoff
JCUA Member

Before I begin discussing the Illinois Domestic Workers’ Bill of Rights (IL DWBR), in the spirit of full disclosure, I must make the following confession: I am just a simple E pluribus unum kind of gal living in a crazy mixed up Bellum omnium contra omnes sorta world. That’s right, I believe in “from the many, one” (coalitions and allyship) over this ugly “war of all against all” that is currently being waged – particularly against those trying to earn a wage. A minimum wage. A living wage.

Disclosure disclosed. Confession confessed. I begin.

It is not every day one is approached with the invitation to become a better human being. When James Povijua, the Campaign Director for the IL Domestic Workers’ Bill of Rights came and spoke before JCore, I was extended that very invitation. He began with a brief history of the long fight for domestic workers’ rights in the United states (the struggle stretching back to FDR) and the specific fight here in Illinois. He spoke of the hard, difficult work already achieved by the Illinois Domestic Workers Coalition and the efforts remaining. 

What I did not know at the time was that in addition to inviting me to be a better human being, James was also inviting me and the other members of JCore to take several trips down to the state capital. But that was just fine. My unum was all fired up, ready to get on a PluriBus and go down to Springfield to lobby on behalf of the Illinois Domestic Workers’ Bill of Rights!

These were good trips to Springfield not only for the successful lobbying that was done on behalf of the IL DWBR – and we were successful – but for the way the members of the different coalitions came to know one another. We came to know each other by our given names and not only our coalition names. We came to know each other and I hope trust one another.

Passage of the IL DWBR is serious. It will determine whether existing laws will be amended to include Domestic Workers. The passage will mean respect, dignity, and humanity. The Illinois Minimum Wage Law. Respect. The Illinois One Day Rest in Seven. Dignity. The Illinois Human Rights Act which provides recourse for sexual harassment in the workplace (often someone’s home). Humanity. How do we exclude Domestic Workers from these basic rights? How can we in the Jewish community allow this?

Meet JCUA’s 2016 Summer Interns

By Andie Linker
JCUA Intern

JCUA has 3 dynamic individuals joining our team for the summer! Keep on reading to get to know them a little better.

Ethan Ramsay

Ethan hails from Oak Park, Illinois and currently attends Carleton College, where he studies history. He is passionate about theater and recently directed a play entitled “My Kind of Town” which was about police brutality in Chicago. His favorite family tradition from growing up was observing the Iranian-Jewish Passover tradition of hitting people with green onions during the Seder, which serves as reminder of the pain inflicted upon the Jewish people. Ethan connects to Judaism through the lens of social justice, and is excited to work at JCUA because he believes that Judaism is all about taking action and he is passionate about giving marginalized people a voice.

Tali Shapiro

Tali is from Highland Park, Illinois and studies at Vassar College. Last year, she took a gap year all throughout Central America, which she looks back upon fondly. Tali loves to sing, and is a member of an all Disney a cappella group at school. Her favorite Jewish holiday growing up was always Hanukkah because she loves lighting candles and eating Latkes. Tali is excited to work at JCUA because she loves surrounding herself with like-minded, progressive Jews. She wants to explore her own Jewish identity through working with social justice and Judaism.

Andie Linker

Andie is from Chicago, Illinois and is a journalism student at Northwestern University. She loves to bake, and is very involved with Northwestern’s chapter of Challah for Hunger, where they bake and sell challah weekly and donate the proceeds to Jewish foundations. Andie’s favorite tradition growing up was spending most every Friday night dinner with her family and observing their own version of Shabbat. Andie is excited to work at JCUA because she has grown up hearing about and living among the problems that face Chicago everyday, but often did not know what she could do about it. She loves that JCUA is able to blend action with Judaism, an identity she holds very close.