ROI Community 10/28/11
Out on the Streets
Categories: Arts and Culture, Jewish Education
Heard about Occupy Wall Street? And what about ROIer, Daniel Sieradski's initiative, Occupy Judaism?
Well, given that I'm based in Israel, I was curious to get some perspective on what it feels like on the protest grounds. Also feeding my desire for first-hand reports were photos I came across on Facebook of a crowd of people, standing in a circle, holding parts of an unraveled Torah scroll last week. Amongst the faces, I recognized two ROIers, David Wolkin and Eszter Margit.
I wrote to both David and Eszter, asking them to share with me, and the Community, their experiences. I thank them for their speedy replies and I welcome any other emails which I will happily post to our blog!
Here are some thoughts from David Wolkin:
Well, given that I'm based in Israel, I was curious to get some perspective on what it feels like on the protest grounds. Also feeding my desire for first-hand reports were photos I came across on Facebook of a crowd of people, standing in a circle, holding parts of an unraveled Torah scroll last week. Amongst the faces, I recognized two ROIers, David Wolkin and Eszter Margit.
I wrote to both David and Eszter, asking them to share with me, and the Community, their experiences. I thank them for their speedy replies and I welcome any other emails which I will happily post to our blog!
Here are some thoughts from David Wolkin:
I was incredibly moved by participating in Kol Nidre at Occupy Wall Street just a few weeks back. Whatever I may think about the Occupy Wall Street movement (and I am putting this aside for now, part of me thinks it may not be fully relevant to my experience), it's a rare occurrence to encounter a communal prayer experience in which an entire Kehilah comes together spontaneously with the same intention and purity of heart. To be honest, I wonder if I'll ever experience anything like it again.
Just a couple of weeks later, I was asked to help facilitate a Simchat Torah ritual at OWS in my capacity as a member of Storahtelling, and I jumped at the opportunity immediately. While I do believe in supporting people's right to protest, I was immediately drawn back to the idea of a relatively spontaneous act of public Jewish ritual. Most of our experiences with observing and celebrating Judaism happen behind the closed doors of a synagogue. Sure, anyone is technically welcome to come on in, but how often would a random passerby actually choose to do so?
Once the crowd had gathered and come together in song, we unrolled our Torah in a giant circle, held up by those who were joining us. Amichai Lau Lavie quickly pointed to the highlights of our story from Bereshit to Devarim, calling attention to the Torah's repeated calls for justice. As he finished, we as Storahtellers came to the inside of the circle. Each of us approached the scroll and the people holding it up, who were asked to point to one word in the Torah. It was our job to take that word and convert it into a blessing for the person pointing to it.
I must confess that I was concerned that wouldn't be able to translate effectively, and I joked that I was planning on finding a vayomer near each person's pointed finger and coming up with a blessing about good speech or something. But I was amazed (or incredibly lucky) as I immediately recognized every word that was pointed to and found that the blessings came to me quite naturally, enabling me to bring about some really powerful moments between myself and my "blessees".
As I was just about done with my task, a woman who was walking by peeked her head in and asked what we were doing. "I'm offering blessings, would you like one?". It felt like a strange thing to say to a complete stranger, but she said yes. Reaching her hand over the unrolled Torah, she pointed directly to Adonai/Yahweh, one of our many names for God. I looked in her eyes and told her that no matter who or what she believed in, I hoped that she would have the opportunity to bring divinity into the lives of others. She looked surprised for a moment, in that way that people do when you give them a compliment that they don't think they deserve, and then she smiled and thanked me and walked away.
I'll probably never see that woman again in my life and I'm almost certain that she wasn't Jewish (I'm not terribly concerned about this), but what we shared was undeniably one of the most powerful moments I've ever had as a Jew. I know that going to a synagogue and observing conventionally behind walls would never have afforded me such an encounter.
This is why I can put my politics aside for these experiences. Judaism lived in public connects us to the world in a way that we do not consider. I think we need to spend more time exploring this.
Occupy Wall Street, by Eszter Margit
I finally checked out Occupy Wall Street on Simchat Torah Friday afternoon where I participated in a unique service with Dan Sieradski, Amichai Lau-Lavie and other ROI friends, including, Naomi Less and Liz Nord.
It was the most well organized and disciplined yet cool crowd I’ve ever seen. Plastic tarps neatly folded and stacked (as protesters were not allowed to build anything overnight except for a pop-up Sukkah), lending library filled with hundreds of categorized books, regimented volunteers holding nicely crafted signs with clear, concise messages. Self-appointed speakers shared their thoughts, Hyde Park style, others listened without interrupting them, repeating their words as loud speakers and amplifiers are not allowed in New York’s public places. Most everyone was well-dressed, expressive, and confident. They were even disciplined when standing in line for free, healthy, organic food. Leftovers neatly composted, while everyone got cleverly educated about the process. A meditator quietly sat cross-legged elevating the spirit of the place. Protesters attempted to fully observe the law: publicly shunning alcohol and drugs, on their best behavior, ready to get arrested any minute yet ready to keep on standing up for their lawful rights.
When a tough looking policemen came up to our Jewish group, my heart sank for a second. I remembered the films I saw online portraying unjustifiable police brutality against supposedly rightfully protesting individuals. The New York police was much more tough than the European forces. But it turned out that this policeman was Jewish and was drawn to us by the sight of the Torah.
My husband was asked to blow the shofar at the beginning of our ceremony – like the Shofar FlashMob turned us into Mr. and Mrs. Shofar, somehow connecting our public performances in bringing our tradition out to the open and showing less familiar aspects of it to anyone curious.
About a hundred of us, mostly peers I knew from Manhattan, formed a ‘circle of unity’ where Amichai Lau-Lavie, founder of StorahTelling, now a rabbinical student at JTS welcomed everyone. It made me self-conscious that almost as many people were documenting this heavily broadcasted event as actually participating in it. Amichai emphasized that in our circle everyone, Jewish and people of other faiths, man and woman, straight and gay, liberal and conservative, religious and secular, rich and poor, anyone in the 99% had a place. An equal place.
We unwrapped the Torah and held it in a circle. It became our own sign of protest, a sign with magical Hebrew words on it, containing much deeper levels of many other, partial truths that were represented at the hodgepodge of signs that other activists held in Zucotti Square. Amichai gave a unique, funny and thought provoking StorahTelling-style reading of the scroll pointing out social justice and human rights issues in it. Cain and Abel’s story taught us that we ARE actually supposed to be our brother’s keepers, that Korah’s rebellion was a movement for democratic leadership, but Moses said no, that Zelophehad’s daughters fought for women’s rights, and fulfilled their mission.
Muslims with headscarves, Chinese people, and some Jewish passers-bys joined our circle. Volunteers gave out blessings to people holding the scroll based on what words we pointed at randomly. An African American woman pushed her way among us to get a blessing and said that we made her day. Dan Sieradski, master of ceremonies, got the very fitting word ‘Cohen’. Maybe it wasn’t by accident that my word for the year was ‘food’ and my husband’s ‘shelter’. As the world is facing economic hardships, struggling for such basic necessities is becoming more challenging to the 99%. People around the world are expressing their dissatisfaction with the malfunctions of neo-colonialism. When making a living is becoming more difficult for the 99%, artists are especially struggling to be able to work without the existential stress, interruptions and distractions of daily life. Our organization, Art Kibbutz NYC, is aiming to provide a solution to artists’ need for a peaceful space, time and community to work and create - at least during the time of their residency.
As we headed home, we contemplated on the irony that while Sukkot is a holiday of transition, reminding us of the precarious nature of our existence, during the entire Occupy Wall Street experience, the Sukkah was the only ‘permanent’ structure.
And a piece in the Forward: http://forward.com/articles/144298/
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