My Labor Seder
I held my eleventh and last Labor Seder as part of my job at the Jewish Labor Committee (JLC) in Boston, Massachusetts, USA. In this Seder we tell the story of the Jewish people—their coming out of slavery and fighting their way to liberation—and we draw parallels with present-day work campaigns and struggles for liberation.
We invite workers to tell their stories, and they do. Many of them discharge as they stand in front of almost three hundred people and tell what it has been like to go on a strike or be locked out of their jobs, and to come together with other workers and be backed [supported] by the larger community.
The workers in the room are of every race and religion. There are many different workers: construction workers, hotel workers, teachers, janitors, utility workers, domestic workers, and more. There are also interfaith clergy, Jews and Jewish leaders, union activists, young adults, elected officials, and older folks.
What I think is most useful about this event is the contradiction [to distress] it provides for everyone in the room. In general, workers of all backgrounds feel that no one cares about them and their lives. It’s a big contradiction for Gentile and Jewish workers to be welcomed into a Jewish religious setting and to tell their stories and be appreciated—in particular, be appreciated by Jews. Gentile workers also learn a lot about Jewish tradition; many of them have never had such an opportunity. For us Jews, it is a huge contradiction to be with Gentile workers and see them appreciate us and our world. We share our most precious holiday with them, and that is a big contradiction. For middle- and owning-class Jews, it is important to hear the stories of working people. For working-class Jews, we get to see our worlds finally come together.
I always give a speech in the beginning of the Labor Seder. Below is part of the speech I gave this year. (In June 2019, I will be leaving my position at the JLC to do other things.)
PART OF MY SPEECH
It was a love story—me and the Jewish Labor Committee.
My husband, Mark, had a friend, David D., who was the Regional Director of the New England JLC. David told me about the organization and invited me to a meeting. I went, and it was love at first sight. I walked into a room of Jewish organizers, Jewish construction workers, a few Jewish labor attorneys—these were my people. Labor people and Jews—that was an important connection that spoke to me.
So when we go out to support the workers on a picket line with our JLC signs and people come up to us and ask, “Why do you care about us?” “Why is the Jewish community here?” I explain that we care about workers, and we are workers too.
It’s always been a love story. How could I not fall in love with the workers who are brave enough to risk everything and stand up against these big companies and institutions? Like the Tufts Dining Hall workers, who work in the city where I’ve lived for almost thirty years. Some of them had been working as temporary workers for fourteen years. People of all backgrounds and races, fighting side by side. And here they are, fighting for a union and a contract. How could I not fall in love with them? Could the Local 26 Dining Hall workers from Tufts stand up? And while we’re at it [while we’re doing this], how about the UFCW [United Food and Commercial Workers] workers who are in the middle of a big fight with Stop & Shop, a company that wants to cut back benefits and pensions and pay? Would those workers stand up? How can I not fall in love with these folks?
There was the time that a bunch of us were arrested because we’d blockaded the Hyatt Hotel, and I was in a holding tank (in the police station) with twenty other women that had also been arrested. And Rabbi Toba led us in the Shehecheyanu, the prayer for a special first time that you are doing something—in this case, getting arrested. How could I not fall in love with all the women in the holding tank—hotel workers and supporters together?
Two weeks ago, I go to protest outside the Stop & Shop store in Somerville [Massachusetts, USA]. Two guys come up to me from Local 25, the Teamsters union. They ask if I will take their photo while they are holding my JLC sign. Of course, I will. I ask if they are Jewish. Yes, they say they are. I tell you this story because you never know who is Jewish and who is not. How can I not fall in love with these guys?
How can I not fall in love with the Jewish students from Harvard and Tufts and Smith colleges who are standing with workers to make sure they get a fair deal? And all the union organizers that I work with—people who work day in and day out [day after day] because they deeply care—how can I not fall in love with them?
So what I feel most thankful for, while I’ve been director of the JLC, is that my days have been filled with opportunities to fall in love with people. And that’s how I feel about everyone in this room. And if I could, I’d sit down with each of you for a good hour and hear your story.
And if I had to give one piece of advice to new organizers, I would say, “It’s okay to fall in love with the people you work with.”
And the other thing I would say to everyone is, “Don’t let them divide us.” Those with wealth and power want to keep it, and the way they disempower us is to divide, divide, divide. They want us to think Muslims are bad people, and Jews are bad people, and Black and brown people are bad people, and Palestinians are bad people, and Israelis are bad people, and immigrants and LGBQT people are bad, and women are bad, and men are bad, and workers are bad. And that has seeped into our culture, and we have to root it out of ourselves and each other. These messages come in many different packages, like a seemingly innocent radio conversation comparing stay-at-home moms with working moms, as if one is better than the other.
We have to clearly and visibly stand up for any group being attacked. When one of us is attacked, we are all under attack.
Yes, there are people who do very bad things, and we need to fight their policies and actions as hard as we can. But even those on top are people, too, and at some point we need to figure out how to win them over to understanding that their lives will be better if they treat people well. We have to defeat bad policies and win over each human being. It’s a long-term goal but not an impossible one.
And that leads me to the question that people have been asking, “What are you going to be doing next in your life?” because people know I’m not going to sit at home and watch TV after I leave my job. In addition to continuing to help out at the JLC, I’m interested in two other things: I want to speak about and work with people on understanding and standing up against anti-Semitism. And the other thing I want to do is address climate change, because that’s what we all have to face if we love our children and our children’s children and all living things. I’m not saying that everyone needs to quit their jobs in order to do that, but every one of us needs to make it a priority in our lives and figure out how to integrate it into our work. There are so many opportunities for creating jobs that will help us transition into a world that treasures all human beings and all life.
Somerville, Massachusetts, USA
Reprinted from the RC e-mail
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