Disaster Response and Community Investment Fields Join Together in DC

by: Laura Wintroub

Thu Nov 10, 2011 at 14:16:37 PM EST

We kicked off with a panel of representatives from FEMA and faith based disaster responders discussing the growing need for partnership among the public, private, and nonprofit sectors for effective long-term disaster response in low-income communities.  We continued on day two with a discussion led by David Wood, IRI Director, about the role of long-term disaster response.

Participants provided thoughtful input and ideas about the role for the Isaiah Fund to play in long-term disaster response.  Significantly, it was an excellent and rare opportunity to bring together representatives from disaster response organizations and community investment organizations to reflect, share, and brainstorm.

We look forward to a white paper that IRI will produce in the next few months based on the topics and ideas raised during the gathering.  There exist many more possibilities for collaborations between the disaster response and community investment fields.  Isaiah was proud to be a part of the event with IRI, and we are excited about lies ahead.

But What Should I Do?

by: Susan Lubeck

Fri Nov 04, 2011 at 15:03:33 PM EDT

On Monday I attended the annual fundraiser for Jewish Family & Children’s Services of the East Bay, where Robert Reich, interviewed by public radio host Michael Krasny, was the featured speaker.

Reich – Secretary of Labor in the Clinton administration, and now professor at UC Berkeley – captivated the hundreds of people in attendance with his forcefully clear opinions about how to fix the economy. Reich shared his innovative proposals for debt relief for students and homeowners whose mortgages are underwater, his humor, and his critique of inequality, which has risen to unprecedented levels in the U.S., and which, he believes, is a factor in causing economic downturns.

His most shocking statement was when he said that 37 percent of families with young children are now poor.  You could almost hear people shudder at the reality of this awful statistic.  In that moment I felt the contradictions of want amid wealth, imagining the immediate struggles of those families and the potential corrosive long-term effects of such inequality.

Soon after, in the Q&A period, a woman asked, with passion in her voice, “But what can I do?”

Reich had already made the case that presidents respond to organized constituencies. He had already said that in his view the “Occupy” movement is succeeding because it has created a quantum increase in public attention to issues of equity and equality, citing dramatic recent changes in coverage of these issues in The New York Times.  But for some reason he didn’t advise this person, so desperate to act, to get involved in organizing. 

I’ve seen the power of organizing – so-called ordinary people stepping into the public domain, building relationships, engaging in research, and using people power to shift policies, employment terms, and resources.  When we organize – through our congregation, union, neighborhood – we build leaders and relationships that transcend the short-term win.  We turn away from numbness and apathy and find our power to contribute and to build.  

Occupy the Language

by: Rabbi Aryeh Cohen

Wed Nov 02, 2011 at 10:41:23 AM EDT

One young man in Zuccoti Park in New York, part of the Occupy Wall Street encampment, holds up a sign which boldly declares: “We’re here, we’re unclear, get used to it.” This tongue in cheek message gets to the heart of what is uncomfortable for many in the media and the chattering class about the Occupy movement (OWS and its many many offshoots in all major American cities and many cities around the world). There is an expected, almost ritual nature to American political discourse. There are critiques, followed by demands, supported by emotional anecdotes and statistics, followed by the suggestion of legislative remedies. The chattering class then gets to work vetting these remedies on two levels. First, and most important, is the “horse race” analysis. The political climate will not allow this or the votes are there but only if the opposing party will compromise on this. And so on and so forth. Somewhere farther down, or on the inside pages, the wonks get to work dissecting the numbers. Within a week at most (usually a news cycle), its all old news. Nothing has changed. Perhaps a catch phrase has been added to the stump speech of this or that candidate.

It is very frustrating when a large group of Americans peacefully assemble to air their grievances without participating in these tried and true rituals. When they do not attempt to position themselves behind a candidate or leverage a powerful constituency, but, rather display their disaffection without feeling the need to issue bullet points which any politician or pundit could easily digest and regurgitate. And then they stick around. For a long time. And they do not feel the pressure of the news cycle to make decisions or appoint telegenic spokespeople. They just put up tents, hold long meetings which need to reach a consensus for a decision, put themselves in danger by reclaiming public space and using non-violence as a trigger and a weapon to reveal the repressive reflexes of the financial and political elites. It is maddening.

I would suggest that what is going on, intentionally and unintentionally, is a massive project of rethinking the language, of redefining central terms of our vocabulary. This is a somewhat glacial enterprise which is also, at times baffling. Its been done before. Those efforts also met with resistance and lack of comprehension by those in power (“the 1%”).

What's a Jew to do?

by: Amy Dean

Fri Oct 28, 2011 at 15:49:17 PM EDT

In the United States during the 1930s, revolution was in the air. With the stock market crash and the ensuing Great Depression, the broken economy was failing most Americans. This gave rise to a spectrum of responses, providing communists and socialists on the left and fascists on the right with a compelling argument that capitalism and democracy were fundamentally flawed. With millions unemployed and living in poverty, people were primed for change.

But in the United States, the revolution never came. Capitalism survived the 1930s. So did democracy.

Instead, the calls for social change compelled President Franklin Roosevelt and the U.S. Congress to pass sweeping reforms, while the Supreme Court provided the new laws with a constitutional seal of approval. Today, the reforms of the New Deal remain vital to America’s compact with its citizens: part safety net, part ladder of opportunity.

Since 2008, economic conditions have sparked new movements for change. Organizers behind the Tea Party conservatives, the Ron Paul libertarians and isolationists, and Occupy Wall Street’s anti-corporatists all believe another world is possible. The messages are simple and clear. “End the Fed” the libertarians proclaim. “Tax the Rich” the occupiers chant. “Seal the border” the tea partiers insist.

In the 19th and 20th centuries, Jews were attracted to revolutionary, utopian movements like socialism and communism. Anti-Semitism made life hard for Jews, and the idea that we could create a more just society in which Jews and other embattled communities would be accepted as equals was very appealing.

Eventually, though, utopianism lost its luster for most American Jews. The revolutions of the 20th century often turned out to be more dangerous than the flawed societies they replaced. Both Stalin and Hitler inspired followers with their visions of utopia. Reform, not revolution, became the norm for American Jews.

Today, iin economic and soical conditions reminiscent of the 1930s, Occupy Wall Street (OWS) is generating considerable excitement and some nervousness among American Jews. On the one hand, its critique of economic inequality and of a political system that excludes most voices from civic discourse resonates with the community’s liberal majority. On the other hand, Jews have often been scapegoated during economic crises, accused of being puppet masters behind the scenes.

So, what’s a Jew to do?

We can take a lesson from the 1930s, and advance an aggressive reform agenda that addresses the critique of structural inequality put forward by Occupy Wall Street.

Thoughts on Radical Hospitality

by: admin

Wed Oct 26, 2011 at 11:38:22 AM EDT

During PJA & JFSJ’s second annual Bay Area Sukkot Potluck on October 16, Bay Area Regional Director Susan Lubeck spoke about radical hospitality, and how community and tradition together help us be our best selves.  Sukkot’s passed, but Susan’s words will resonate all year long. Read them here!

By Susan Lubeck

Today’s theme is radical hospitality!

Why stretch ourselves to imagine and take steps toward practicing “radical hospitality”?  Radical hospitality – and Sukkot – reminds us not just what is right, but what is real.

We are interdependent – the permeable walls of the sukkah teach us this. Deep down we know that what happens to the hotel worker without a union, who has backbreaking workloads and has to work multiple jobs to feed her family, ultimately affects us.  Because we know that the fate of the undocumented immigrant – who works in a Mercado or cares for our elders -- is part of our story, and we know that when we partner with him as he exercises courage to organize, we are both stronger. Because we know that the growing inequality that has become so rampant in America – reaching levels not seen since 1929 – is creating insecurity and unemployment even among educated people, especially young adults, including some of you here today.

Pushing ourselves to imagine a just society, and step into the public sphere to help create it sometimes feels like swimming upstream – upstream against distractions, cynicism.  Community helps. Tradition helps – we sit in the sukkah and remember the wisdom of our ancestors. Today, we connect with both the pleasurable and demanding parts of our tradition and with each other, taking steps to build our vision and our community.   Community helps us be our best selves.

I fully believe that the Jewish community – with all our diversity and all our mishegas – has a huge contribution to make to waking us up to our interdependence, and helping us win a more just and compassionate America.  

So my hope is that you’ll fully enjoy yourself today, meet someone new, and move to take one new action in service of radical hospitality and community.  I’ll now introduce Sam Ruben, a Jeremiah alum who is doing just that.

Community Organizing Residency: Reflections

by: admin

Wed Oct 12, 2011 at 16:11:48 PM EDT

In mid-September, 25 people from different faith backgrounds gathered together in New York to meet each other and embark on their six-month participation in the Community Organizing Residency. COR Residents are placed in congregations, community and issue-based groups, religious seminaries, unions, and more in the Chicago, Los Angeles, New York, San Francisco, and Twin Cities areas. During their first retreat the Residents learned about each other, explored their reasons for participating in the program, and thoughtfully discussed what the next six months would look like.

Here are the reflections of two Residents after completing the training and beginning the program:

Bread in Water: An Interfaith Story
By Samantha Schoer

Recently I attended a Muslim nikah, or marriage, at the Islamic Cultural Center of New York. Super excited by the prospect, I bought a headscarf and prepped my outfit the day before, making sure to combine modesty and style. My Muslim friend and fellow COR Resident, Faiza, had invited the rest of our New York cohort, since, as part of COR, we are supposed to experience each other’s religions through holidays, services or cultural events. My excitement fizzled when we arrived as I glanced up at the imposing dome and saw a mass of beautifully colored clothing whizzing by me through the gate. I suddenly became filled with trepidation. Should I hide my Jewish star? What if people ask how I know the couple? How do I put on this headscarf?! Suddenly I recognized one of my COR compatriots crossing the street, who also seemed hesitant to enter without our Muslim friend leading the way. When yet another friend showed up, we bravely entered together, trying not to make eye contact or explain why two Jews and a Christian couldn’t figure out how a hijab works.

I had made sure to switch from converse sneakers to nice flats outside the gate, only to be shamed by my ignorance as I watched everyone remove their shoes into a hectic pile before entering the mosque. Once inside, however, my nerves calmed as I scanned the room and saw multiple yarmulke-clad heads and many women without head coverings. There was a large contingent of women dressed in Hindu saris, all part of the bride’s family. Here I was: a member of an interfaith cohort, among a community of interfaith folk all gathered to celebrate this couple. It was being called the “Royal Muslim Wedding” on Twitter, due to the prominence of the groom, Khalid Latif, the NYPD Chaplain and the Imam of the NYU Islamic Center. It seemed as if everyone in the city wanted to be included.

As I settled in, I wondered if there would be Salah, or daily Muslim prayer, during the service. I knew it was only to be done by Muslims and I imagined myself sitting up as everyone bowed and prostrated while Arabic hummed in my ears. This reminded me of the many times I had spent at Catholic churches over the years, always awkwardly sitting in my seat as people began genuflecting on their knees all around me. Surprisingly and wonderfully, the entire ceremony was catered for everyone’s communal understanding. Any passage from the Qur’an read in Arabic was immediately translated into English. The Imam used pop culture references and the bride and groom were married before they even read their personal vows. When Khalid nearly cried discussing his love for his new wife, we all sighed collectively. The entire ceremony felt natural and beautiful.

As we were leaving, we ran into Chelsea Clinton dressed conservatively in black. I understood the nervous look on her face that echoed concern over whether her headscarf was covering up her blonde hair. Feeling more brazen post-wedding, I walked right up to her and made sure that my group of powerful, inspiring friends got a picture to document this day with the “New York Royal Daughter” herself.

Though I have just recently started my interfaith organizing residency, I already feel included in a bigger religious community that thrives in New York City. My Muslim friend who invited us to the wedding joined some of the Jewish participants in Prospect Park for tashlikh (the ritual of casting off one’s sins by throwing bread into water). We all discussed what it meant to pursue social justice and community work in light of our own wrongdoings and hesitations. As each piece of bread was thrown in the water, I couldn’t help but feel our misconceptions, fears and sense of solitude floating away.

Samantha Schoer is a COR resident with Domestic Workers United. 

Reflections: Between Doubt and Hope
By Nate Sutton

Lutheran theologian, Vitor Westhelle, makes a distinction between two kinds of space. The first is topographical, or geographical, space (topos). This is the kind of space we map: properties, neighborhoods, regions, nations. This topographical understanding of space tends toward exclusion. Gated communities, ethnically insulated neighborhoods, “redline” lending policies, and nationalism, for instance, are all witness to this inclination toward segregation. After all, as Robert Frost lamented, “Good fences make good neighbors.”

But a second kind of space, “choratic” space (chora), is different. This is space between spaces, a place of transition. Choratic space is at boundaries, or in “borderlands,” marginal places where revelation takes place and truth is evident. Sometimes, choratic space is geographically familiar. Christians, for example, recognize Golgotha, the location of the crucifixion, as a choratic space. It is a place between Jerusalem and the countryside, between death and life, between humiliation and redemption, between Roman imperial oppression and God’s justice.

Sometimes, however, choratic space is unpredictable. Central New Jersey is topographically ambiguous, but for the participants of the COR opening retreat, Mount Eden Retreat Center in Washington Township was a choratic space. It was a place between past and future, between strangers and friends, between doubt and hope. The leaders and participants subscribe to a wide variety of creeds and spiritualities, yet the retreat space was profoundly mutual, quickly cultivating trust and love. This was a “thin place,” a space where God encountered members of the group in each other. It was no utopia, but rather an authentic human community, centered in both the Divine and the other. From this space, we entered new and challenging territories. But we entered them together, inspired to a new hope for God’s future.

Nate Sutton serves as pastoral intern at Faith Lutheran Church in Glen Ellyn, a Chicago suburb, which also serves as his COR residency.

What is Leadership?

by: Miriam Grant

Wed Oct 12, 2011 at 13:34:46 PM EDT

Yom Kippur offers a point of teshuva, which means turning, changing course, and beginning anew. The Jewish holidays, along with the upsurge of demonstrations across the country, reminds me of the importance of imagining the world we want to create.

It feels important in this moment to celebrate our new cohort of Jeremiah Fellows, who have just embarked on a journey towards deeper leadership.

While preparing to kick off the Jeremiah Fellowship last month I repeatedly asked myself, "What is leadership?"  Today, inspired by the enthusiasm and commitment of the Fellows, I offer these thoughts.

Leaders are clear about their values and driven by purpose. They make time and call forth the energy to act in service of their purpose.  Leadership is a living process that moves from values clarification to taking action.  It is a process that supports thoughtful and dynamic interaction with the world to create social justice.

I take inspiration from the Jeremiah Fellows, who have each committed themselves to this process of transformation. Dedicating their time and energy, the Fellows are joining together as a community of thinkers and doers, to learn more deeply and intimately about local issues that evoke questions of social justice, and to choose to become more skillful leaders who can create the world they imagine.

Miriam Grant is the Senior Jeremiah Fellowship Coordinator at PJA & JFSJ

A Jewish Perspective on Occupy Wall Street

by: Stosh Cotler

Fri Oct 07, 2011 at 12:30:24 PM EDT

At PJA & JFSJ, we’re thrilled to see the issues we talk about every day – the need for good jobs, affordable housing and fair lending practices – appear on sign after sign calling for an end to the inequality and poverty that prevent millions of Americans from living lives of dignity.

Many of us have found this call to action in our Judaism. PJA & JFSJ was formed so that we would have a way to act together as Jews to address inequality in our nation. Today, though, a critical mass of Americans nationwide are hearing the call, and feeling the pain of need and want firsthand.

Before the recession, the number of individuals and families homeless or living in poverty was unacceptable. Today those numbers have skyrocketed – along with the unemployment rate – while growing ranks of working Americans can no longer afford to feed their families.

It’s no surprise that a lot of folks are moved to act – to demand change and articulate a vision for our future. It’s no surprise that Americans want to reclaim the values of fairness and opportunity that our nation has historically stood for. For me, it’s meaningful that so many people who have sat on the sidelines feel invested in America’s future again.  For me, it’s a hopeful moment when the people demanding change pictured on Page One aren’t representing the Tea Party, they’re folks who want help for all Americans – the 99 percent.

Most of all, it’s hopeful to see a call again for the common good. To see a sense of community. Many of us went down to Wall Street this week to stand with Occupy Wall Street.  The call for structural change is being heard around the nation. Americans are uniting to call for solutions to the inequality that’s dividing and wounding our nation. This isn’t about being a revolutionary- it’s a call for common sense measures for rebuilding and sustaining our country to meet the needs of all its people.

One of the voices you don’t want to miss in this conversation is Rabbi Aryeh Cohen, PJA & JFSJ board member and professor of Rabbinic literature at the Ziegler School for Rabbinic Studies of the American Jewish University. In his post on Occupy Wall Street, he offers a Jewish perspective on what it means to be part of a community of obligation.

Yom Kippur with Fred Shuttlesworth, Steve Jobs and Alfred Nobel,

by: Jason Kimelman-Block

Fri Oct 07, 2011 at 12:39:05 PM EDT

Reading the obituaries of civil rights icon Fred Shuttlesworth and Apple founder Steve Jobs in the paper yesterday, it struck me that as different as these two men were, both left behind  powerful obituaries they spent their entire lives writing.

I wonder how many of us are doing the same -- dedicating our life's energy and work to writing the story that we want others to tell?  In the Selah Leadership Program, which I direct, one powerful exercise we do is to have participants envision their own passing and funeral.  We do this not to be morbid, but to help each individual to reconnect with their understanding of their purpose in the world -- who they were put on this planet to be.  That process can be profound and can help reorient us to living lives of meaning. For Alfred Nobel, the inventor of dynamite, this process was no exercise, but actually occurred in 1888, when a newspaper mistakenly printed his obituary instead of his brother’s, writing "Dr. Alfred Nobel, who became rich by finding ways to kill more people faster than ever before, died yesterday." Determined not to be remembered his this way, Nobel established the prizes that bear his name and remain his legacy.

Jewish tradition does not wait for trainings or obituary misprints to offer us this process.  The practice of Yom Kippur, with its fasting, abstinence, wearing of a burial shroud, and focus on the fact that this year may be our last, creates a simulated (but much safer) "near-death experience."  The wisdom of this practice recognizes that it is only by confronting the sober reality that we are in this world for a short time that we can truly orient ourselves around our deepest values, purpose and make our unique impact on our world.

Alan van Capelle to Lead PJA & JFSJ!

by: Simon Greer

Mon Oct 03, 2011 at 09:38:07 AM EDT

I am thrilled to share the exciting news that Alan van Capelle will take over as President and CEO of PJA & JFSJ in January.

Alan currently serves as Deputy Comptroller for the City of New York, where he advises Comptroller John Liu on all matters involving public policy, inter-governmental relations, media and community. For the seven years prior, Alan was the Executive Director of the Empire State Pride Agenda.  At the Pride Agenda he developed a reputation as an avid fundraiser (nearly tripling its budget), a committed coalition builder (bringing together labor, business, and faith communities), and an accomplished, high profile activist on behalf of LGBT rights for New Yorkers. Alan came to the Pride Agenda after almost ten years spent in the labor movement helping building service workers negotiate fair contracts, creating one of organized labor’s most effective political action committees, and helping to pass groundbreaking legislation to protect workers.

The recent vote by the New York State Senate to legalize gay marriage in New York was made possible in no small part by Alan’s leadership while at Empire State Pride. His insistence on having a Senate vote in 2009 provided clear targets for the 2011 gay marriage campaign. Building support for marriage equality in the State Assembly and among previous governors provided vital momentum for the passage of New York’s Marriage Equality legislation.

Alan's public record of accomplishment is impressive, and based on that alone he would be a strong candidate for this job. But it is the less public side of Alan that will allow him to be an extraordinary leader of PJA & JFSJ. Alan is a devoted partner to his husband, Matt. He is an uplifting presence in his synagogue. He is a committed volunteer to children in New York’s most neglected neighborhoods.

When I came to what was then called Jewish Fund for Justice more than six years ago, I had never worked for a Jewish organization. But I believed deeply that the Jewish community could and should be a major force for social change in America. I saw the deep connections between my work as an organizer and my Jewish identity.

Alan’s background is similar. He and I first met more than a decade ago at an annual gathering of young Jews, where we were both beginning to explore these connections. Where I found a Jewish home at PJA & JFSJ, he found one at Congregation Beit Simchat Torah, an important LGBT synagogue in New York City. 

Now he will bring his formidable skills and personality to bear full time in the Jewish social justice movement. I cannot imagine a more appropriate choice to lead PJA & JFSJ during this period of tremendous challenges for our country and exciting opportunities for our organization.