The Colors of Jews: Racial Politics and Radical Diasporism

4 Praying with our Legs

105 Praying with Our Legs We believe that to kvetch is human, to act divine. —Progressive Jewish Alliance, Los Angeles The late Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel is reported to have said, of the famous 1965 Selmato -Montgomery civil rights march, “I felt like my legs were praying.” In cities across the nation, Jews have created locally based, visibly Jewish antiracist, antipoverty initiatives. These groups emerged as progressive Jews grew collectively troubled by the Jewish right wing presenting itself as the voice of U.S. Jews, while Jewish progressives, broadly active in progressive movements, were mostly invisible as Jews. In response to an increasingly fractious self-proclaimed Jewish right, progressive Jews have visibly mobilized Jewish organizing around racial and economic justice. Although most of these groups are locally created, defined, and controlled, some have had significant contact with each other. In several instances, older and more developed groups have offered trainings and consultations to the newcomers.1 Some of these consultations were funded by the Jewish Fund for Justice (JFJ), which in 2000 created the Jewish Social Justice Network precisely to support this sense of connection and cooperation among those Jewish social justice groups that had received some funding from JFJ.2 The Network folded in 2004 for lack of funds, but the concept of attempting on occasion to speak with a strong united voice has found a different format. In April 2004, the Jewish Council on Urban Affairs (JCUA; Chicago), the grandparent of us all, assumed leadership, creating a conference on working Jewishly for social justice. In December 2005, with curriculum designed by the much younger but fast-growing energetic Jewish Community Action (JCA; St. Paul–Minneapolis), in Chicago, under the auspices of JCUA, some sixty activists were trained in community organizing . In addition, JCUA has facilitated working with UNITE/HERE and [4] Jenny Romaine 106 the colors of jews other unions, honoring the Jewish historical role in the needle trades specifically and labor movements more ­generally. But largely the groups work to visibly and Jewishly confront racism and fight for economic justice. What is the theory and practice of such groups? What are they good for? What makes them Jewish? What is the relationship between this antiracist work and Jewish racial and ethnic diversity? In pursuit of these questions, I interviewed the leaders of four such groups: Jewish Council on Urban Affairs in Chicago; Jewish Community Action in St. Paul; Jews United for Justice in St. Louis (JUJ); and Jews for Racial and Economic Justice in New York (JFREJ). There are many­ others I might have chosen. (In the following chapter, I interview leaders of groups focused specifically on Jewish diversity.) Many of these groups deliberately evoke a framework that goes something like this: Jewish history teaches us to welcome the stranger, reminds us of the dangers of racial hatred, and instructs us to pursue justice. The following, from the website of Minneapolis’s Jewish Community Action (JCA) is typical: ”Love the stranger because you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Deuteronomy 10:19) Because you once knew how it feels to be a stranger, you should know better! The admonition to love the stranger occurs 36 times in the Bible, many more times than Sabbath observance rules, dietary laws, or admonitions against stealing, lying or coveting. Why the stranger? Because the stranger is weak, defenseless, alone—scorned, wronged, and in need of protection. Our grandparents were “strangers.” My grandfather came to this country in 1883 as a young boy of 13, all by himself. Somebody met him at Castle Gardens and brought him to a family. I know where he lived, a tenement on Essex Street on the Lower East Side in New York, because I searched for it and found it. He was taken in as a child, made a life and raised a family. This is my story. Your story is likely to be similar. If your grandparents or great-­grandparents were not embraced as strangers, you would not be here today. Likewise the assertion that Jewish religion, ethics, and/or values instruct us to pursue justice. From the website of Chicago’s Jewish Council on Urban Affairs (JCUA): Tikkun Olam commands Jews to reconstruct the world by reaching out to those in need. Tzedakah comes from the Hebrew word tzedek which translates as justice. According to the 12th Century Jewish 107 sage Maimonides, the highest form of tzedakah is helping people to...