Omer 2025 Day 45

Day 44 | Day 46

Day 45: Change Sings: A Children's Anthem by Amanda Gorman
Tiferet in Malchut, Compassion in Leadership

This children's book really demonstrates why Amanda Gorman is the youngest inaugural poet in US history. She is able to distill big concepts, like compassion and difference into a compelling story. The illustrations by Loren Long are really the key to bringing Gorman's words to life. 

The book is a call to action, not just for kids, but for us all, to be leaders in our communities. Gorman's character in the book demonstrates leadership not just by doing the work of improving her community, but by bringing others into that work with her. Their leadership is rooted in compassion for the people around them. They see litter and are compelled to clean it up. They see people who are hungry and are compelled to feed them. They see outcasts and are compelled to welcome them into the community. In the book, it seems so obvious that those are the right steps, but we all know how easily we walk past these things every day without acting. 

Especially in our current political climate, I look to this book for a vision of a world with compassionate leaders, with people who thought of others and let that guide them into action.

Omer 2025 Day 42

Day 41 | Day 43

Day 42: Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln by Doris Kearns Goodwin
Malchut in Yesod, Leadership in Connection

I’ve read many books about the life and presidency of Abraham Lincoln, and Team of Rivals stands out as one of the best, and certainly one of the most influential. It offers a powerful look at how Lincoln constructed his Cabinet, not by surrounding himself with yes-men, but by intentionally including political opponents and skeptics, even those who had challenged him in the Republican primary and questioned his capacity to lead. To forge this unlikely group into a functional and effective team, Lincoln had to build genuine personal relationships, earn trust, and create space for their expertise—while still maintaining his authority as their leader. His ability to hold the egos and pride of these men, and to channel their talents toward saving the Union, is a testament to his extraordinary leadership. Lincoln’s willingness to embrace diverse opinions underscores a fundamental truth of our democracy: building bridges isn’t just admirable, it’s necessary for good governance.

Omer 2025 Day 21

Day 20 | Day 22

Day 21: Becoming by Michelle Obama
Malchut in Tiferet, Leadership in Beauty

I don’t usually read contemporary political biographies or memoirs, but I made an exception for Becoming by Michelle Obama and I’m so glad I did. I listened to the audiobook, narrated by Obama herself, and was struck by how relatable it was. Most of us will never know the level of power or public scrutiny the Obamas faced, yet her reflections felt grounded, intimate, and honest. 

Some of the most powerful moments come when she describes rising above the expectations placed on her—by society, by institutions, and even by her own self-doubt. She speaks candidly about the criticism she faced, especially regarding her appearance, and those moments are particularly moving. The contrast between the public caricature—too tall, too strong, not soft enough—and the private reality of a woman navigating leadership with grace and vulnerability reveals a deeper kind of beauty: the kind rooted in authenticity and resilience. 

Becoming is a testament to the idea that great leadership is not about perfection or image; it’s about courage, conviction, and the ability to stay true to oneself, even under the harshest spotlight. Michelle Obama reminds us that leadership rooted in respect and integrity is beautiful.

Days of Awe

My first Yamim Noraim - my first experience of the Days of Awe - were truly awe-inspiring. It was a new year and, for me, everything was new: the prayers, the community, the sacred time of reflection, the hunger. I was struck by the familiarity with which we address God, reverential, but still close. It was only years later that someone pointed out to me that all of our prayers for forgiveness are said in the plural. We have sinned. Remember us. It didn't draw my attention at first, because it felt natural. After all, we were all together praying. But not this year.

For most of us in the US, the pandemic has meant that we have spent the past six months keeping our distance from others, praying mostly alone. Most weeks, my husband and I watch our shul's new livestream of Shabbat services from our living room with our daughters, who alternate between watching and playing. We've done the same for the High Holidays, except for Yom Kippur morning. Our shul repeated the Yom Kippur day service to give as many people as possible the opportunity to attend a limited in-person service, and both were livestreamed for anyone to watch at home. I had planned to watch the later service in the afternoon while my children napped, but I found myself on Yom Kippur morning with an occupied toddler and a napping baby, and an hour to myself. I opened my borrowed machzor and davened alone - sometimes aloud, sometimes silently, sometimes in English, and sometimes in Hebrew. I paused to think; I read the commentaries in the margins; and as I recited prayers from "us" alone, I reflected on my lack of awe this year, the strangeness, and the distance from each other and from God.

Truthfully, I was not awed this year. I spent these Days of Awe alternatingly or simultaneously grieving, angry, and numb. There are too many reasons to enumerate. Just since Rosh Hashanah a long ten days ago:

Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg died. A feminist icon, a fierce defender of our rights and our Constitution, an outspoken and intelligent woman.

Our country is on fire. Literally (both naturally and man made) and figuratively. We are engulfed in rage and choked by partisanship.

We surpassed 200,000 deaths from COVID-19. Each of those people is missed by someone. Wear a mask.

Breonna Taylor was denied justice. Her trial and the lack of closure for her family and the country is just the latest proof of systemic racism and inherent inequality for our citizens.

Senate Republicans are moving ahead (hypocritically) to install a conservative justice who will set back women's rights and women's health for decades, impacting not only myself, but my daughters well into their own far-off adulthood.

This president continues to undermine our institutions and degrade our moral decency.

Even though I recognized the danger to our souls in his gleeful rejection of civility (or "political correctness"), I have not been immune to it. I have matched anger with anger; I have judged others harshly; I have been cynical and arrogant. Worse, I have succumbed to moments of despair, convinced that none of it matters, that nothing will get better. There is no justice and there can be no justice as long as those in power subvert justice and act outside the bounds of fair play.

But then I read Isaiah.

"For I will not always contend,

I will not be angry forever:

Nay, I who make spirits flag,

also create the breath of life." Isaiah 57:16 

God will not be angry forever. I will not be angry forever.

"If you banish the yoke from your midst, the menacing hand, the evil speech, and you offer your compassion to the hungry and satisfy the famished creature - then shall your light shine in darkness." Isaiah 58:9-10

And not from the High Holiday liturgy, but always and increasingly relevant: 

"You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it." Pirkei Avot 2:21

Kol Nidre begins Yom Kippur not with apologies for the past year, but a request to forgive the sins and annul the vows we will commit in the coming year. Even as we ask forgiveness for past transgressions, we acknowledge that we will sin again. But maybe we will do a little bit better in the coming year. May we learn from our past mistakes, so that even as we sin anew in 5781, we grow a little better. And therein lies the hope.

I alone and we together must do better this year. We cannot desist from the hard work of rebuilding justice and civility. We must set aside our anger and get to work banishing evil and increasing compassion. Although the world is dark, we must be sources of light. Although the situation seems hopeless, we can provide hope. Although we know we will need forgiveness again next year, we begin the new year with our best intentions. We commit to be better, to do more, to draw closer to God, and to always remember that we are in this together.

Babel

This week's Torah portion is Noah. Things move fast in the first few portions of the Torah. Just last week there were only two people on Earth and now there is a whole world of people. After God floods the world, Noah and his family quickly repopulate. In the middle of a recounting of Shem's lineage, we read about the Tower of Babel (Genesis 11).

The Torah notes that "all the earth had the same language" (Genesis 11:1) and that the people gathered together in a valley and decided to build a tower to the heavens. Midrash (the Oral Torah) tells us that the people wanted to build a tower with a statue and sword on top to wage war against God (Artscroll Bereishis, The Sapirstein Edition Rashi, Genesis 11:1 note). If a person fell from the tower during construction, everyone kept working, but if someone dropped a brick, they mourned the loss of the brick and the delay it caused their work. In their single-minded focus on building the tower, life ceased to be precious; the people did not value the humanity of their fellow man. Being of one mind became toxic and destructive. So God gave them all different languages and dispersed them throughout the world. On one hand, when everyone spoke the same language and were of the same mind, they were able to join together in a unified undertaking of massive proportions. On the other hand, there was no voice of dissent among them to question their violent tendencies. Giving them different languages and dispersing them not only disrupted their endeavors, but diversified humanity as well.

Science backs up God here with a theory called the edge effect. You can learn more about it from this Hidden Brain podcast episode on the topic, but in short, studies on the edge effect show that working with people from diverse backgrounds increases the creativity of all involved. While it is natural to want to cluster with people who understand you and share your background, scientific and creative breakthroughs are more likely to come from diverse groups of people working together.

I can't help but draw parallels between the Tower of Babel and the political toxicity of our society today. When we surround ourselves only with people who think like us and only consume media that reinforces our beliefs, we are creating little Babels for ourselves. From our little towers of sameness where everyone speaks the same language, we propose to wage war on big ideas (capitalism, socialism, political correctness, the patriarchy, Big Pharma, etc), and reject the humanity and worth of anyone who does not contribute to our cause. What we can learn from the Tower of Babel and the edge effect, however, is that it is not good or productive for us to surround ourselves with like voices. Listening to only one perspective seems to inevitably lead us down a path to war. God's solution can be a model for our own attempts to do better today - diversify. Read multiple sources, talk to and really listen to the concerns of others, collaborate, learn a new language.

Shabbat Shalom

Quote of the Week: What One Does

"It is not what one says, but rather what one does, that makes all the difference in the world." Pirke Avot 1:17

In the wake of yet another mass shooting in America - this time at a high school in Parkland, FL - we must not only grieve with the families of those who lost loved ones, but demand action from our elected officials. Words are not enough.

The Hits Keep Coming

Ever since last Saturday the hits have just kept coming.

First, neo-Nazis, Klansmen, and other white supremacists descended on Virginia (an increasingly diverse and open state) to intimidate people and voice their hatred publicly. Then, a terrorist associated with them drove his car into a crowd of peaceful counter-protesters, killing Heather Heyer and injuring many others, while two police officers also died en route to help quell the violence. In Boston, a teenager shattered a glass memorial to Holocaust survivors - the second time this summer that vandals have attacked the memorial. Vandals also spray-painted the Lincoln Memorial. Monuments to the Confederacy are being removed from public spaces across the country as debate heats up over their presence and meaning in this charged political climate. Through it all, Trump has stuck by his most loyal supporters - the so-called "alt-right" conglomeration of white supremacists - while laying equal blame for violence and divisiveness at the feet of those who oppose them.

And those are just some of the national problems we face. I haven't even had time to delve into escalating tensions with North Korea, Trump's calls for a renegotiation of NAFTA, his continued attacks on Senators who refuse to kick over twenty million people off of their insurance plans, the ongoing Russia investigation, and another terrorist van attack - this time in Barcelona. All of that deserves its own attention. And yet, here I am, learning something new and disturbing every few hours about the state of our nation. The latest of these revelations was that police refused to protect a Charlottesville synagogue from armed neo-Nazis who stood outside with automatic rifles shouting Nazi slogans during Saturday morning services.

Of all the discussions happening nationally in the wake of Charlottesville, I am most mesmerized/horrified by the fact that some of this stuff is still up for debate at all. In the past week in Facebook conversations with friends of friends, I have been appalled to learn that some people confuse non-violence with inaction; that others think showing neo-Nazis respect will encourage them to change their ways; and that even more don't understand the difference between memory and honor. Here is a sampling of some of those conversations.

Ignore Nazis and they'll go away vs. Let's punch Nazis in the face. 
Should we punch Nazis? How can we best act in the face of injustice? When does turning the other cheek or ignoring the problem cross the line into condoning it or becoming a bystander?

Ten Of The Best Times That Someone Punched A Nazi In Comics is just one of many examples in our popular culture (expressions of our society's values and moral compass) that documents our need to meet action with action. It strikes me as proof that we believe action is necessary for good to prevail over evil. If violence begets violence, then it is a perfectly natural reaction to meet a white supremacist's aggression and violence with like means (i.e. punching). It might not be the most effective way of defeating them in real life and it is probably not the safest idea, but I think the instinct to punch them comes from a feeling that anything less will inadequately display our disgust for them and their ideas.

What differentiates good people from white supremacists is our ability to measure that reaction - to recognize it as a base instinct that might be momentarily satisfying, but ultimately counterproductive. And the question is: Where do we go from there? How do we channel that desire to punch, to take action, into something constructive?

One solution that was offered was to ignore the white supremacists, but it is disingenuous to suggest that we ignore the problem and do nothing, as if inaction is the same as non-violent protest. Martin Luther King, Jr. marched, Gandhi went on a hunger strike, Heschel "prayed with his feet [paraphrased]." And each of these heroes of non-violence also used language as an outlet - inspiring change not only through action, but also through words.

The ability to articulate a message is fundamental to changing minds. Finding words to express the sorrow, disgust, and fear that these terrorists instill in me is a great challenge, but giving voice to those feelings is also incredibly empowering and ultimately very satisfying. Being able to name something, to identify it, and to share your feelings with others keeps us from bottling up the hate and rage until it boils over into violence. Naming something for what it is also limits its power, which is why Trump's refusal to call out white supremacy in his reactions to Charlottesville is so infuriating.

"I don't speak because I have the power to speak; I speak because I don't have the power to remain silent" -Rabbi A.Y. Kook

That said, language has limits. Sometimes I do not have words to describe the depth of a feeling, try as I might to do so. And when that happens, I look at pictures of Captain America punching Hitler as an outlet for a rage with no name and a feeling that I can't do enough, no matter how many words I spill into the vastness of the internet, how much I donate to anti-Nazi causes, or how many rallies I attend. People have limits.

So, what can we do when language fails, when violence is wrong, but the need to act remains? I'm sorry to say that I don't have an answer, but I know that we must find one, because Judaism requires that we meet oppression and injustice with action. As Elie Wiesel said, "We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented."

Everyone deserves respect, even Nazis vs. No, not Nazis.
Someone actually said to me online, "Punching people doesn't diffuse or eliminate hate. Showing respect does." 

I said this when Trump was elected and I will say it again: respect must be earned. I don't respect white supremacists. Their ideas and actions are morally reprehensible. Anyone who wants to see the decimation of entire races and religions has not earned respect or a place in any meaningful dialogue. Showing respect to white supremacists will not diffuse or eliminate their deep-seated hatred and might give them the false notion that their hate is a respectable, acceptable position to hold.

There is value (historically, culturally, etc) to keeping Confederate monuments in public spaces vs. It's long overdue that we remove these monuments from public places of honor.
In a moment of weakness, the Israelites sinned against God by building a golden calf and ascribing to it a history of freedom and a relationship of guardianship that was rightfully God's. They prayed to the calf and held it up as their new god. Moses, upon seeing this shameful display, did not equivocate. He did not say, "I see the value you have imbued in this object," or attempt to explain away their actions as the result of the people's fear and uncertainty at his long absence. He did not say, "There is blame on many sides; both the calf-worshipers and God were equally wrong." He did not insist that we keep the calf intact and prominently display it as a reminder of our "history" and the "cultural legacy" of people who turned their backs on the most fundamental belief of our young religion. No! He melted it down, ground it into dust, and scattered it in the water.

In a series of Tweets today, Trump ranted about the increasingly "foolish" removal of the "beautiful statues and monuments" of the Confederacy, which are "the history and culture of our great country" and which he claimed will be "greatly missed and never able to be comparably replaced."

Here is what we "learn" from a "beautiful" statue of Robert E. Lee in a public park. That traitors to our nation deserve to be honored and venerated. That the racist goals of erecting these statues (largely in the 1880s-1910s to reinforce Jim Crow and segregation and 1950s-60s in direct opposition to the Civil Rights Movement) are not repugnant to our society today. That this particular "history and culture of our great country" is the history and culture we want to hold up as "great." That neo-Nazis and the KKK deserve to be respected in the national debate about who we are and for what we stand.

If we want to learn from these statues, then they should be in a museum where those meanings can be explored and contextualized. They don't belong in public places.

We should never bring up Hitler lightly, but I do think that it is an apt comparison in this instance. Maggie Penman put it best: "To equate Robert E. Lee with Hitler would be lazy, and bad history. Hitler's name is invoked too casually, and too often. But since the white supremacists protesting the removal of Lee's statue in Charlottesville brandished swastikas, and openly made the Nazi salute, the connection to 1930s Germany was invited by the marchers themselves." Germany remembers the history of WWII without statues of Hitler, because they recognize that statues of mass murderers and war criminals are not appropriate or necessary to historical memory.

When we talk about preserving shameful parts of our history, we have to recognize a difference between remembering and honoring. These statues and monuments to Confederate generals were erected as part of a revisionist history that sought to glorify traitors to our nation. Recognizing and remembering the racism that spawned these statues is the history we should be remembering and in light of that history, we have to reject the continued veneration of people who sought to destroy our country.

It is not only history that should concern us, but our future too. By leaving these symbols of hate and oppression in public, we leave present and future white supremacists with the misconception that their ideology is a welcome and valuable part of America. These symbols of hate are fodder for budding white supremacists, like Dylan Roof, who see the Confederate flag and other "lost cause" Confederate symbols as an invitation to continue that violence and oppression today.

It's long past time to take these monuments down. Put them in museums with the proper educational materials to contextualize them and remove the sense of honor they hold, or, like the golden calf, let's melt them down and grind them to dust until all that's left of them is the memory of regret at ever having created and deified them in the first place.

A rhetorical question

​In November, just days after the election, I got in a Facebook-friendship-ending argument with my uncle about fear in the age of Trump. 

The argument spanned many topics, but for the bulk of it, I argued that the millions who voted against Trump (myself included) had legitimate fears. These fears were based on his campaign rhetoric that attacked, among others, women, minorities, immigrants, LGBTQ individuals, people with disabilities, Muslims, and Jews, while dog whistling to the scum of our society, and based on history (as a history major who focused domestically on the Civil War and internationally on WWII, I know a thing or two about what happens when hate is given power).

The fears I confessed from my heart were reduced by my uncle to "liberal talking points," and he assured me that, "None of what you and millions of your like minded people think will happen will actually happen."

I unfriended him for many reasons (not all political), which just came to a head in this argument. I was tired of being belittled and devalued, because of my age and gender, as if my experiences as a millennial Jewish woman counted for nothing if they did not lead to the same life conclusions as a white Catholic baby boomer. I was tired of having my education treated as if I'd been brainwashed. And I was tired of talking to a brick wall who, for all his expressions of love for his family, somehow thought that a movement based on hate and resentment would make America great.

At the time, just days after the election, from my grief and despair, I offered this tiny shred of something-like-hope. I would not (and could not) expect better of Trump than he had proved he was capable of, but I suggested that he could (the onus being fully on him) attempt to rebuild the bridges he had burned with over half the country.

In that time, he has built bridges only with dictators and white supremacists. My fears and the fears of millions proved not to be "liberal talking points." They have come to pass.

Photo from Politico

There are Nazis in the streets of Charlottesville. Emboldened by a president who espouses so many of their views and refuses to condemn them, they descended on Virginia wearing Hitler quotes on their t-shirts, waving Confederate flags, and brandishing torches, proposing to take our country from us.

Their definition of American greatness is at odds with America. Their voice is not one of "many sides" to count in the debate about who we are; it is not even a choice. Our ideals, as expressed in our founding documents, in our songs, speeches, and poems, are not hatred, xenophobia, and violence, but life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, the great American melting pot (or salad bowl), a place to breathe free, where we offer liberty and justice for all. Any "side" that rejects these fundamental ideals has no place in our national conversation and deserves no voice in shaping our national identity. The fact that the president offers them a seat at the table and a voice is embarrassing, disgraceful, and horrific.

And, so, I have a rhetorical question for my uncle, who is not a bad person at heart: "Is this the America you wanted?"

Anti-Semitism and the President

​Let's talk about all these JCC bomb threats.​

I work at a Jewish Community Center. Thank God the building I work in has not yet been the target of a bomb threat, like ​nearly 70 other ​JCC​s across the country in the past month, but ​the threats still hit home​. My friends and colleagues have been evacuated from their offices and children shepherded out of harm's way per carefully-planned security procedures. These threats, some near and some far away, echo in my workplace in heightened security checks and more frequent reviews of evacuation plans.

Dealing with anti-Semitism comes with the territory of being Jewish and it takes many forms. It can be an off-handed remark based in ignorance, graffiti scrawled on a synagogue, headstones overturned in a Jewish cemetery, or threats to Jewish community centers. If you can stomach it, you can listen to an audio clip of one of the past month's phone threats here.

I​ would be lying if I said it wasn't at least a little scary to go to work everyday in this environment, but I am less gripped by fear than by anger. I'm angry that my workplace is a target because it is Jewish. Of course, I'm angry that anti-Semitism exists and is on the rise. I'm angry that these callers and vandals have so much hate in them and that anti-Semites and hate-mongers feel empowered in America today.

When the first few waves of threats were called in, I thought I didn't need or want our 45th president to respond. I certainly wasn't going to hold my breath waiting for him to express concern for our communities. He was, after all, dealing with other enemies - the media, the National Park Service, millions of cases of voter fraud, and refugees and legal green card holders - and he has been busy spending our taxes traveling to and from his Florida resort. Besides, his speech - stilted, unrefined, combative, and limited in its expressive vocabulary - has never been able to move me to anything but repulsion. I did not need him to make some hollow statement, some empty gesture. 

Except, I did need that.

Yesterday, another 11 JCCs received threats and, like all the others so far, they turned out to be hoaxes. But yesterday, I realized that I had lost count of how many threats had been reported this year. Was this the third round or the fifth? How many times now had the Birmingham JCC where I used to work been forced to evacuate? And after watching the president specifically dodge a question about combating anti-Semitism just a week before, I had finally had enough.

This president does not get to claim that he is the "least anti-Semitic person that you've ever seen in your entire life." He does not get to hide behind having a Jewish daughter or excuse himself because Israeli Prime Minister Bibi Netanyahu has "known [him] for a long time." This president ran a campaign of hate. His campaign rejected civility (or "political correctness"), revived the anti-Semitic and xenophobic rhetoric of "America First," and evoked old stereotypes and tropes linking Jews to some secret global power structure that does not exist. He retweeted neo-Nazis and was hesitant to denounce the support of the KKK. His campaign and his victory gave hope to anti-Semites, racists, bigots, and all the worst slime of our society. And so, while I knew that nothing he could say would ring true to my ear as I enter my workplace every morning, I did still need him in his capacity as our president to say something.

Yesterday, after the latest 11 JCC threats, his Jewish daughter, Ivanka Trump, tweeted:

Last night, the White House released a statement condemning "hatred and hate-motivated violence."

This morning, Hillary Clinton joined in:

After all that, the president himself finally uttered the words he had been avoiding. During a visit to the National Museum of African American History and Culture, he said:

"The anti-Semitic threats targeting our Jewish community and community centers are horrible and are painful, and a very sad reminder of the work that still must be done to root out hate and prejudice and evil." 

It is one of his more coherent sentences, without the asides and repetitive hyperbole characteristic of his speech. It is, of course, not enough. It feels insincere given his history on the campaign trail and the fact that it took almost 70 bomb threats and a month of nagging to get him to say anything at all about an issue that the president should be forced to address. So, while his statement left me every bit as underwhelmed as I expected it would, the fact that he said anything when he so clearly did not want to feels like a small victory and I'll take it.

Coming Together on Thanksgiving

This Shabbat we will read Chayei Sarah, the life of Sarah, which recounts Sarah’s death and burial, Isaac’s marriage to Rebecca, and the death and burial of Abraham.

As so many of us come together with family for Thanksgiving this year expecting harsh political disagreements, I am reminded of Abbey Bartlet’s wise words on The West Wing:

“What most people find it important to remember is that, in the end, the two sons [Isaac and Ishmael] came together to bury their father.”

Skip to 1:30 for Abbey's story

If you are celebrating Thanksgiving this year in a politically-divided home, I hope that you and your family will be able to set aside your differences and truly have a happy Thanksgiving.

Dear Trump Supporters

Dear Trump Supporters,

I know that some of you are not racist. Some of you were appalled when Donald mocked reporter Serge Kovaleski, bragged about sexually assaulting women, and attacked the Kahns, a gold star family. Some of you voted for him in spite of those things, because the Maytag plant in your town moved to Mexico, your insurance premiums rose again last month, you're tired of gridlock in Washington, or you just couldn't bring yourself to vote for Hillary.

But some of you are in the Klan and some of you are neo-Nazis. Donald appealed to them too and that should scare you like it scares me. So don't tell me that it's un-American or disrespectful not to support this president. 

It's un-American not to call out those disgusting elements of our society and it's disrespectful to write off my fears - and the fears of so many others - just because "not all" of his supporters are in the KKK and you don't think he will actually do some of the things he promised during his campaign.

I will continue to stand up for what I believe and make my voice heard, because that is what patriotic Americans do. We participate, we advocate, and every two years, we vote. So you and Donald have two years to prove that you are better than the worst of your coalition. 

Ready? Go.

Our President and Our America

I've been seeing a lot of people using #NotMyPresident on social media since Donald Trump was elected, almost inevitably followed by someone telling them that it's un-American or unpatriotic. I don't use this particular hashtag for two reasons: 

First, it's factually inaccurate. Unless I move to Canada or Israel, Donald will be my president. We can debate the merits of the electoral college, but just because I don't like the outcome doesn't change the fact that he was elected and will be the president in January.

Second, if #notmypresident is meant to capture an idea, then I would rather elaborate on that idea than rely on an imperfect and inaccurate phrase. The divisions and complications so starkly laid bare in this election cannot be accurately expressed by any three words or 140 characters. We have this whole beautiful language with which to work and the vastness of the internet to share our thoughts, so let's not sell ourselves short. Among my many criticisms of Donald was his "politically incorrect" style of speech. His supporters lauded him for speaking without thinking, but this is not a virtue; it is a sign of deep disrespect for the person with whom you are conversing. Composing a fully-formed thought is a sign of the seriousness with which a presidential candidate (and certainly a president) should take his position and is a basic courtesy that I can extend to you.

Again, I do not use #notmypresident, but I would like to hope that saying Donald Trump is "not my president" has, among others, these underlying meanings:

• He does not represent my values.
  
• He has not proven himself by his words or actions to be a respectable man.
• He has antagonized groups into which I fall and about which I care deeply without apology.
• He has made no visible, concerted effort to be my president - a president for all Americans - even those of us who did not vote for him and who might be uncertain about (or afraid of) his vision for America. Instead of reaching out to better understand and heal the deep divisions in our nation, he is on Twitter attacking the New York Times.

I hope that if you use #notmypresident, you mean it as shorthand for any of the ideas above and if you do, then I would implore you to expound on that using however many characters you need to make your point clearly. But you might just as easily say that Donald is "not my president" as a way to shirk responsibility for him, because you didn't vote for him, and that is un-American. As patriotic Americans, it is our responsibility to hold our president to a higher standard and demand that he represent all of us. Donald is the next president, but this is not "Trump's America;" it's my America and your America too.

Politics, Pain, and Prayer

I unfriended my uncle on Facebook yesterday. I'm sure that he believes it is because we disagree (to put mildly) on almost every political issue, but I have many family members and friends with whom I disagree politically and it has never come to that. This is not really the appropriate place to get into the reasons we aren't "friends" anymore, but I mention it because trying to express myself to my uncle, whose callous disregard for experiences and feelings that are not his own has often left me frustrated, finally helped me put into words the emotions that I have been struggling with since Tuesday night. Much of the feelings below are excerpted from the last Facebook conversation I will ever have with my uncle.

First, of course, I am disappointed that Hillary didn't win, though I am heartened by the fact that she won the popular vote and won my home state of Illinois and my current home, Virginia. I am confident that her vast experience in law and government would have served this country well.

Along with that disappointment is fear. Many, myself included, are now grappling with a President-Elect whose campaign was built on tearing us down. Donald said, among many other insults that: women are either sex objects or else we are pigs who are bleeding out of our "wherevers;" Mexicans are rapists and drug dealers; Muslims celebrated 9/11 and are all terrorists; the disabled are deserving of mockery; Jews control the "global power structure;" African Americans all live in crime-ridden poverty in the inner cities; and I could go on. I am afraid as a Jew and as a woman. I am afraid not just for myself, but for friends and strangers dealing with bigots, misogynists, and racists - on Twitter and in real life - who feel emboldened by Donald's brand of "political incorrectness," which is really just a way of saying that they can't be bothered to be kind to others. I am afraid for us and for future generations, to whom we have sent the message that civility and truth do not matter. Our presidents have always been deeply flawed men, but they are role models nonetheless, in whom we hope to find some kernel of decency for our children to emulate and aspire to. I fear for a nation of children who might emulate Donald's pride in ignorance and his dismissiveness if not outright hostility to his opponents. He belittles people with whom he disagrees rather than addressing their concerns. He has no regard for the truth, facts, or grammatically-correct sentence structure. He has a huge ego. Sadly, this has gotten him far in life, but I would personally like to achieve success in a better way and I would hope that we expect better of the next generation.

Since I will be stuck with him as our president for the next four years, I have to hope that my fears will prove to be unfounded. But it is on Donald to build the bridges that he burned with women, minorities, and so many other people who are hurt and afraid. Trust and respect must be earned and he has a long way to go before he has earned that from me.

I will leave you with the Prayer for Our Country from Siddur Sim Shalom, the prayer book of Conservative Judaism, which I think we need now more than ever:

Our God and God of our ancestors: We ask Your blessings for our country, for its government, for its leaders and advisors, and for all who exercise just and rightful authority. Teach them insights from Your Torah, that they may administer all affairs of state fairly, that peace and security, happiness and prosperity, justice and freedom may forever abide in our midst. 

Creator of all flesh, bless all the inhabitants of our country with Your spirit. May citizens of all races and creeds forge a common bond in true harmony to banish all hatred and bigotry and to safeguard the ideals and free institutions which are the pride and glory of our country. 

May this land under Your Providence be an influence for good throughout the world, uniting all people in peace and freedom and helping them to fulfill the vision of Your prophet: "Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they experience war any more."

Count the Omer 2015: Day 8

Go back to Day 7  |  Skip to Day 9

Day 8: Chesed within Gevurah, Loving-kindness within Power

Hillary Clinton has announced that she is officially running for president with this video:

I have been #ReadyforHillary since her first presidential run in 2008 and have been following the will-she-won't-she political speculation for a long time. Since she officially entered the race (and even before) people have been speculating about the kind of campaign she will run, particularly noting the difficulty she will face in relating to everyday people. 

What perfect timing to discuss loving-kindness within power. It seems that there is a different kind of kindness that one must show when one is in a position of power. We believe those in power to be out of touch with everyday problems - whether they know the price of milk or the joys and discomforts of a long road trip - and thus expect them to go the extra mile to relate to us. Our presidential candidates, all powerful people, must also be incredibly kind and likable. As politicians on both sides continue to enter the field for the 2016 race, it will be important for them to strike a balance between power and kindness early.

#ReadyforHillary

Quote of the Week: Improve the World

US Capitol Grounds Memorial Tree

Aesculus Hippocastanum (Horse Chestnut)

Sponsored by Rep. Debbie Wasserman Schultz to honor Anne Frank

"No one need wait; start right now to improve the world"

You may remember in April that I was very excited about the upcoming planting of a sapling from Anne Frank's chestnut tree outside of the Capitol. Well, last week I moved to DC to begin a brand new graduate school program at George Washington University (more on that later) and celebrated my first full week in the city by walking down the Mall to find Anne Frank's tree.

There are a lot of trees across the west lawn of the Capitol, so if you are looking for the Anne Frank tree, go up to the steps of the Capitol and follow the path south. The tree will be on your left, right about where the circled tree is here:

I love the quote that they have chosen to accompany this tree, though I think it is a paraphrasing of this longer Anne Frank quote: "How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world." It seems especially appropriate in this location. The city seems constantly charged with a sense of purpose, perhaps because of its transient nature, which is inevitable in a city built around our ever-changing politics. Even when our government is at a near standstill, the people are active. DC is filled with long-time residents, newcomers, students, and visitors, who use every moment to learn and grow and improve the world - and the world needs a lot of improvements. Here are some recent issues that Congress has failed to make any better:

• Gun control, because we should have said #notonemore a long time ago
• Student loan debt, so Millenials can have a life someday
• Raising the minimum wage, so that everyone can make enough to live
• Extending unemployment insurance, because the job market is still hard
• Funding the Department of Transportation, so you can get from point A to point B without the road or bridge crumbling beneath you
• Immigration reform, because the system is broken

No wonder Congress' approval rating is only seven percent, the lowest it has been in history. I think it would do Congress some good to take another look at this little tree on their way to work.

Quote of the Week: Problem-Solving

"We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them." -Albert Einstein

Welcome to week two of the government shutdown. Our congressmen continue to be terrible at doing their jobs, digging their heels in on the policies and views that have gotten us into this mess in the first place. As the markets dive and the larger debt ceiling debate looms, I hope our elected officials will heed Einstein's advice and let go of their old thinking to find a solution and move us forward.

Speak Up

John Mayer's song Waiting on the World to Change came out at just the right time to really speak to me. It was 2006, I had just graduated high school, and I was looking forward to becoming an adult with real power over my life, which seemed woefully out of my control.

I had been politically frustrated since 2001, when 9/11 had shocked me into paying attention to the the political world around me. I was old enough to start to understand the effects of political decisions on my life, but too young to have a say, and by 2006, I was frustrated with an American political landscape in which we fought two seemingly endless wars against the idea of terrorism and domestically failed to come together, even in the face of Hurricane Katrina.

I had been spiritually adrift for years and my frustration with the world at large only made me more skeptical of God.

My universe literally changed when scientists announced that Pluto was not a planet after all. My beloved Cubs could not change their terrible luck and ended the 2006 season in last place in the National League.

In August, when Waiting on the World to Change was released, I was saying my last goodbyes to my high school friends and packing for college. As an 18-year-old college-bound woman, I stood on the edge of adulthood. I looked into a future that was set on a political trajectory that I did not like, but that was, nonetheless, full of promise, because, as John Mayer pointed out, it would soon be our generation's turn to try our hand at running things. College and adulthood would bring with it a chance to have some real power in my own life. All I had to do was wait a little while longer for the world to change.

It's been seven years and many things have changed. Personally, I have graduated college, held two full-time jobs, lived in three different cities, converted to Judaism, and gotten married. When I actually take the time to reflect on them, my personal accomplishments bring me real joy and fulfillment. From time to time, I feel like a real adult who has intelligent things to say and relevant life experiences.

The world around me has changed too. Some of those changes give me real hope that I live in a good and reasonable world. My first presidential election saw young voter turnout increase in numbers that surprised analysts and I thought that maybe my generation wouldn't have to wait that long to start making a difference. Encouragingly, the Affordable Care Act was passed to make strides toward real needed health care reform, Don't Ask Don't Tell was repealed, and support has swelled for gay rights, and during the last GOP primary, candidate Jon Huntsman warned Republicans against becoming the "anti-science party." I am also heartened by the possibility of Hillary running for president again in 2016 and becoming the first female president.

Despite all this, the world is not changing fast enough. The last seven years has also given rise to the Tea Party and a dangerously antagonistic Congress that seems intent not on moving forward as a nation but on stopping anything constructive from actually getting done. As I write this, Senator Ted Cruz is going into his 10th hour of continuous railing against the Affordable Care Act. It is the second time that the Tea Party has tried to use the nation's budget as a negotiating tool to change laws that they do not have the power to change in the way they were meant to. We have seen more mass shootings than I care to count anymore. After each successive Tuscon, Aurora, Sandy Hook, and Navy Yard, we are left less and less time to mourn before the screaming matches and blame games begin, all of which lead us nowhere. These things and so much more frustrate me and I am tired of waiting on the world to change. I have run out of patience for the unreasonable people on all sides. If we continue to wait for our turn, I'm afraid we will inherit a world so completely screwed up that we won't be able to fix it at all.

At the same time, underneath my frustration, I try to remind myself that loudness does not equal political support. If there really is a silent majority out there of sane people, please, for the love of God, speak up now. At this point, I don't even care what you have to say as long as it is logical and you can argue it without resorting to the negativity that pervades current discourse. I will work on finding my voice and gaining the confidence to speak my mind and I can only hope that others will do the same.

Count the Omer: Day 8

Day 7 | Day 9

Day 8: Chesed sheb'Gevurah, Loving-kindness within Justice
Support for gay marriage is on the rise, according to a recent ABC News/Washington Post poll and with the issue facing judgement from the Supreme Court, what an excellent time to talk about loving-kindness within Justice!

There are issues that we can look back on in history and think:
"What took them so long?"
"Would I have been on the right side of history if I had lived in that time?"
"Could I have made a difference?"

It is easy to look back with the benefit of hindsight and think that we would have stood up for the right thing, but we will never know how we would have acted if we had lived in a different time and faced a different set of issues. We only have the issues before us today. This week is about justice and strength, so take the time to stand up for something you believe in.

Count the Omer: Day 3

Day 2 | Days 4 & 5

Day 3: Tiferet sheb'Chesed, Harmony within Loving-kindness

First things first: check out the first and second days of the Omer.

Congress: known lately for not getting anything done. Why? They don't listen to each other and seem to have no desire to compromise on anything. Today, let's think about how harmonious our lives could be if our congressmen showed a little kindness to each other. How can you foster harmony and balance in your life (at work, at home, etc) by showing a little love?

Quote of the Week: Horses and Bayonets

‎"There are also a lot less horses and bayonets than there were in 1916." -President Obama

This is my quote of the week, because it makes me laugh. Enjoy this tumblr to laugh along with me.

On a serious note, though, I have to quote the candidates on Israel:

"Israel is a true friend. It is our greatest ally in the region. America will stand with Israel." -Obama
"If I'm president of the United States - when I'm president of the United States - we will stand with Israel." -Romney

This was supposed to be a foreign policy debate, and while the candidates got a little off topic with a lot of domestic policy talk, there was plenty of talk about the international scene. Almost all of that talk focused on the Middle East and, not surprisingly, Israel. This is a topic I have been waiting for all month and both Obama and Romney expressed unwavering support for Israel, as quoted above. I wouldn't expect anything less, since I don't think you can win a debate without expressing unwavering support for Israel. Because of this, I was listening for how the candidates spoke about Israel. To explain my understanding of the Israeli mindset, here is a story from my days teaching Jewish Sunday School pre-k:

The smallest boy in our class was also the youngest and newest, having just moved to Nashville from Israel. One day, while the other teacher and I were setting up for snack time, this boy and the largest boy in class (who had some aggression issues) got in a fight on the other side of the room without us noticing. We noticed quickly and broke it up. The first reaction of the Israeli boy's father was not: "How could you, as his teachers, let this fight break out in class?" or "How did this start?"

His first reaction was: "Son, when we get home, I'm going to teach you how to fight."

The Israeli mindset is self-defense. The Israeli mindset is not to confer with others when something happens; it's to react tough, immediately.

Here's what stuck out to me about the candidates' Israel rhetoric:

Romney, on one hand, seems to think he has a good enough relationship with Israel and Bibi that Israel would call him before deciding to defend itself militarily. I don't claim to have any great and deep understanding of the Israeli mindset, but what I do know is that Israel is proud, independent, and progressively defensive. I think Romney is kidding himself if he thinks Israel would include him in a decision-making conference call.

Obama, on the other hand, steered clear of talking about "what Israel would do" in any given situation. Instead, Obama spoke about visiting Yad Vashem and meeting the victims of terrorist attacks on Israel's border.

What do you think about Obama's and Romney's views on Israel? Who do you think has a better understanding of the Israeli mindset?