Trump cracked open an ugly American white secret that previous racist presidents managed to conceal, deny, or massage. The public cracking culminated with George Floyd, a moment when white America could watch racism in action of 8 minutes of police murdering a black man begging for his life, crying for his mother as the white policeman who took his last breath, looked at the camera with all the arrogance of legal protection that we have granted him.

White America and the rest of the world could see this secret, legal brutality against black America and grasp a more profound truth about this country: that all along it has nurtured practices that under the wrong elected regime could topple its democracy. What we saw is democracy’s fragility. We realized that we were complicit in the undoing of democracy while supposedly lauding and singing its praises. Since the murder of George Floyd we began to experience the truth that the city on the hill was lip service, a self-deceptive lie, that the “city” was, and has been, a gated community of institutions that protected the power of privileged rich white men. read more

“Geography here is everything,” writes Colum McCann on the first page of Apeirogon. The phrase recurs throughout McCann’s remarkable, compulsively readable new novel.  (BTW, an apeirogon is a polygon with an infinite number of countable sides.) The “here” is the Jerusalem and West Bank of the present and recent past, of the First and Second Intifadas, of Netanyahu’s unending reign of misrule, and of quagmires new and old. A sense of claustrophobia pervades McCann’s novel. It is a place of constricted and narrowed geographies and of intellectual claustrophobia as well; where the political options impinge and jostle one another, like cars vainly trying to pass one another on one of those tight roads in Palestinian communities only one car-width wide; a world where familiarity has bred a contemptuous and sometimes murderous understanding of “the other.” read more

Susya: Why We Must Stop Annexation
by Ayala Emmett
with photos by Gili Getz

The protests that flooded the US after the murder of George Floyd by the police have spread anguished cries for justice in this country and around the world. In the following account I describe my visit to Susya, a Palestinian village that is a cry for justice similar to what we have recently witnessed. The local demand for human rights in Susya or Minnesota is universal.  Following the protests in America, it is easier to see that the village of Susya reveals ominous implications for Netanyahu’s Trump-supported plot of annexation. read more

On June 3, more than 100 organizations in the mainstream of the American Jewish community issued a statement in the wake of the murder of George Floyd declaring outrage, calling on the government and law enforcement agencies to make change, and pledging to stand with the black community to bring about that change.

It’s a start, but it’s not enough. In fact, it reads more like one of the myriad corporate statements suddenly being issued rather than a statement representing a faith rooted in principles of justice and teshuvah. read more

“Do not murder” (Ex 20:13). It is one of the ten. “Don’t stand idly by when your neighbors blood is shed “(Lit 19:16) “Do not hate your neighbor in your heart (Lev. 19:17). Actually you must “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev.18:18). “He who takes one life, it is as though he has destroyed the universe” (Sanhedrin 4:5). Whoever can prevent his household from sinning but does not, is responsible for the sins of his household; if he can prevent the people of his city from sinning and does not, he is responsible for the sins of his city; if he can stop the whole world from sinning and does not, he is held responsible for the sins of the whole world (Shabbat 54b). Pretty heavy order. Not only do I have to desist from murder and hate. I must love and it is totally possible that I will be accountable for the sins of my household, my city and the entire world. read more

God has told you what is good,
And what God requires of you
Only to do justice
And to love kindness
And to walk modestly with your God (Micah 6:8)

On Monday June 1, as a peaceful group gathered near the White House to protest the murder of George Floyd, Trump chose to show domination. Earlier that day he had given governors a lesson in despotic rhetoric, “You have to dominate or you’ll look like a bunch of jerks, you have to arrest and try people. You don’t have to be too careful. It’s a movement, if you don’t put it down it will get worse and worse.” While American cities have been filled with cries of anguish and calls for justice, Trump rebuked the governors, “The only time it’s successful is when you’re weak and most of you are weak.” read more

Once again we watch with horror as a man begged for his life, handcuffed, face down on his stomach on the ground, as an American police officer, knee on his neck, murdered him in broad daylight.

George Floyd was the latest in a long list of victims of police brutality crying about losing the breath of life.  In 2015 Eric Harris said, “I am losing my breath” after he cried, “Oh God, he shot me.” And the deputy in the video is heard responding “F—your breath.” A year earlier in 2014, Michael Brown, an unarmed 18 year old, shot and killed by a policeman, his body uncovered, exposed to the sun for more than four hours as his mother and this whole nation watched the agony and desecration. read more

Like most religious congregations founded in America’s first century, Temple B’rith Kodesh was organized by a group of men. And, like most religious congregations, TBK has slowly evolved in its acceptance of women into its leadership ranks. However, women have been the heart of the community from its earliest years through the present day. Both inside the synagogue and out, TBK women have fulfilled the mission of Reform Judaism, “tikkun olam, the repair of our world, to bring about a world of justice, wholeness, and compassion.”^[1] While the congregation has only “lived” in Brighton since 1962, its women’s history, rooted in the Gibbs Street years, was firmly transplanted.^[2] read more

The pandemic is not really the problem. There were already too many people in the Rochester region without enough food to eat. There were already too many people lacking housing, clothing, decent jobs. There was already too much racism and too much political discord to address these issues. There were already too many people without enough food to eat, and now there are more.

I already gave regularly to Foodlink, because I am lucky enough to have the resources to do so, and because I have been impressed by Foodlink’s programs. They not only provide emergency food, but they support community gardens, teach classes on preparing healthy foods, and provide mobile produce markets in some of the city’s food deserts. read more

May 1, 2020. The news reports that a man shot and killed a security guard after being asked to wear a mask while shopping at a discount store. It is Sunday morning May 10, 2020 and I roll over and turn on the radio. The host is interviewing a covid-19 shut-down protester: “I know how to take care of myself,” he says. I open my phone and see an article about the almost 100 environmental regulations this administration has or proposes to reverse. There is a disconnect between the individual and the communal. There is a disconnect between man and the natural world. When did some Americans stop seeing themselves as part of a larger picture? When did the citizens put their trust in a government that clearly rewards the 1% at the expense of the remaining 99%? When did citizens collectively decide to support policies that spew the air and water with pollutants and endanger human sustainability? read more