American Freedom and Me

When the 2016 election results were announced I remember telling a friend that it felt like 1938 Germany. As an American Jew to remember this time in history is personal. Jews understand the lessons of history. It’s ingrained in us through years of Hebrew School and family dinners. No one ever lets us forget.  And right now, it feels that American humanity is falling prey to ancient patterns of phobia, isolation and persecution. But I’m hopeful that we can break the cycle this time. 

What’s different this time is that in America we have a generation of women who had parents (mothers and fathers) who believed in education because they knew how transformative it could be. This is a transformative freedom. My father’s generation of white American men were given education in exchange for service. In addition, they were given opportunities to purchase homes and build freedom through financial security for themselves, and more importantly, for their communities.

The American Jewish community flourished in this country because - for the most part -we were left alone. Our community was free to be in America. We were free of victimization. We were free of pogroms. We were free of concentration camps. But now I understand that in America we were free to be mostly because of our skin tone.

I am angry, really angry, and this is my cry out to white men and white women who, for whatever reason, are afraid of the rest of us. A long time ago I understood that a strong black man has more to fear from me, a petite white woman, then I do of him. But that is not what I was taught in my childhood on the edge of Roxbury, or ever in my life in America. I have lived my American life through the prism of a “white” person, but I know, as a Jew, I am not. 

I’ve grappled with my Judaism since childhood because it was the thing that was different about me.  I’ve grown to understand its importance to my life and am grateful for what I’ve been given. But I know that Judaism does not hold all the answers to this world and it’s mysterious, but I don’t think that’s its purpose.  I’ve studied and seen the innumerable and imaginative ways humans live life. And I’ve come to believe that religion exists to organize communities, and give us stories to help us understand an unknowable world.  It’s comforting to me and I love what I get from it. But I believe for too many it’s dispositive. 

That’s where the danger comes in.

Most of us come into this world to a community that we either accept or question or leave. I know that for those who question what they know, this journey is often enhanced with cannabis. Most likely one of the reasons white men have always been so afraid of it. It is clear this pandemic has given all of us a new perspective of our country and who we are and where are communities fray and connect. And I know, and I assume you do too, that we can use cannabis to end the darkness and build an America together that is not bound by the idea that freedom is just for white people. 

When this is over we will remember what the Trump regime did to us, to all of us Americans. American Jews and American Christians: American Muslims and American Hindus: American Mormons and American Jehovah’s Witnesses: American Wiccans and American Indigenous:  American Atheists and American Catholics. The regime intentionally divided our American communities because they are afraid of our freedom.  

For you to buy into my vision of the future and convince you to do your part to get there, I can only ask that you give what you can give. But the clever trick of giving what you can is that even the most selfish can do it. Truthfully, it’s remarkable selfish, really, to give what you can because it always makes the giver feel better. 

So, I take the challenge to envision a future I want to see and plan on giving what I can to create it. 

I want to build a future that really supports and empowers women.

I want to build a business that supports those who care for others. 

I want to build a company that trusts employees to take pride in their responsibilities.

I want to build a business that employs a diverse range of individuals, and may even hire a few men. 

I want to spend my days creating something that exists because of me, and not spend my time on this earth worrying what is happening to me. 

I will do this by building a business that supports me financially so my husband can retire and buy a food truck. 

That’s what I can do.

Although it is clear that the structures of this country continue to be erected in favor of white men, we cannot accept their vision of America carnage because we - the people whose faiths and communities have foundations in America - will not allow it. 

Together, American women and American men; Americans of every faith and ethnic composition, must use the freedoms we have to keep our country moving forward and stomp out falling prey to ancient patterns of phobia, isolation and persecution. For good this time. I want to be free to be me. But more importantly, I need freedom for my community to be. 

That is what American freedom means to me.