Shelved: How Borders Bookstore Links the Economic Crisis with the “Israel Lobby” (and why I won’t shop there anymore)

I spend hundreds of dollars annually at my local Borders bookstore, purchasing books and periodicals that I consume at a pace (and to my wife’s chagrin, cost and volume) that makes it one of my largest discretionary expenses.  I love books, and despite the cost (and space in my home) I refuse to give in to the digitized/Kindle-ized future that I know is forthcoming.

But now I will refuse to do something different – I will refuse to shop at Borders bookstores. Here’s why – in its merchandising design and choice of book recommendation it made a choice that I find deeply irresponsible and equally offensive, both as a consumer and as a Jewish American.

In the front of my local store in Atlanta, Borders has a display that groups books together as a form of suggestive advertising (“Like these?  “Try these…”).  On this particular shelf, Borders suggests that if you like The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism by Naomi Klein, you should try:

•    Between the Lines:  A View Inside American Politics, People and Culture by Jonathan Alter

•    Reckless: How Debt, Deregulation and Dark Money Nearly Bankrupted America (And How we Can Fix It!) by Byron Dorgan

•    Now or Never:  Getting Down to the Business of Saving Our American Dream by Jack Cafferty

• The Israel Lobby and U.S. Foreign Policy by John Mearsheimer and Stephen Walt

Photo of Bookshelf (Like These? Try These...)

Read that list and look at that picture closely. See something wrong with it?  I sure do – and it is why I won’t shop a Borders anymore.  Chaos, American politics, dark money, saving the American dream and… the Israel Lobby.  On one shelf, Borders visually (and not so subtlety) links commentary on the “disaster capitalism”  and the global economic crisis with reckless assertions (and conspiratorial theories) about the power and influence of advocates for a strong U.S./Israel relationship. On one shelf, Borders reinforces the perception oldest of anti-Semitic canards (that distressed economic environments are linked with the power and influence of Jews) while reinforcing the dangerously modern trend of delitigimization of Israel and its supporters in subtle and not so subtle ways.

With the stocking of one shelf, Borders reminded me of the subtle danger in every economic crisis – the danger that it will be used to question the Jewish role in economic and political spheres of influence.

Now to be clear, I am not asserting that Borders should not stock and sell Mearsheimer and Walt’s book, nor am I suggesting that Borders not display the book towards the front of the store. Borders is a commercial enterprise that has the right to market and sell all sorts of books in the manner it desires, and I don’t question that right or prerogative. I am also not suggesting that we revisit the substance and the merits of the Mearsheimer/Walt book. While I think it is a deeply flawed and strongly biased work that diminishes rather than enhances the debate about the basis and nature of the U.S. foreign policy relationship with Israel, there have been far more experienced critics that have taken Mearsheimer and Walt to task on the substance of their research and argument, and I will not rehash those arguments.   Although I would not encourage anyone to read its faulty reasoning and distorted analysis (other than to see it for what it really is), Mearsheimer/Walt’s book should not be censored.

Nor should it be suggested reading – especially by a national bookstore. And even more so, it should not be suggested reading to readers with an interest in the arguments about the current economic crisis.

That is what concerns me the most – how subtle the suggestion is, and how the association of contemporary American challenges and the “Israel Lobby” is not only displayed, but suggestively reinforced. When I first noticed the shelf I struggled to reconcile the display with common sense. Perhaps all the books were on “contemporary topics of political interest,” as I am sure Borders might suggest. But that argument doesn’t hold. The other books  focus on economic and domestic issues and the causes/challenges of our current economic environment  (even the Klein book, which makes some one-sided and dubious charges against Israel, is largely a book on the nature of global capitalism) – so what is the link with U.S. foreign policy, especially US/Israel foreign policy?  If a book on international affairs was to be included on that shelf, why not include a book about U.S./China economic relationship or a book about the influence of bank lobbyists (topics that are much more likely to relate to the current U.S. recession than U.S. foreign policy towards Israel)?  Why direct readers to this particular book when they have a particular interest in unrelated economic circumstances?

I hated to ask why, because I hated to contemplate the answer.

However, I did question store management and then, via phone, Borders customer service. Specifically, I asked who makes the decision how to stock shelves the particular “suggestion” shelves. Both representatives told me the decision to group books in that format, and the particular groupings, are determined by individuals at corporate headquarters. They didn’t know what the factors were in choosing the books, or who approved the selections. Regardless, those books ended up stocked on a shelf in one of Borders busiest in the Atlanta metro region (and presumably elsewhere) – directing curious readers about contemporary issues to a book of questionable academic veracity and one that openly questions the motivations of hundreds of thousands of Jewish and Christian Americans that actively support Israel.

We need to call this what it is – a bookseller of national influence’s deeply irresponsible decision that propagates a dangerous myth of an associated relationship between the current economic crises and the Jews.  It is offensive, and it is outrageous. And while we must be vigilant in not over-exercising the assertion that such decisions are in and of themselves driven by anti-Semitic biases, we must recognize that these types of decisions further establish an environment where anti-Semitic and anti-Israel attitudes do not garner the outrage they deserve.

Chaos, American politics, dark money, the need to save the American dream and… the Israel Lobby. On one shelf Borders connects dots that have no basis to be connected. And it does so in a way that even discerning shoppers may not realize. Borders may not have an obligation to advance public discussion and intellectual curiosity, but when it undertakes to do so it has a responsibility to do so in a conscientious, rather than in a biased and provocative manner.

Everyone has a right to shop how and where they choose, and stores have the right to attract and serve those shoppers in any way they see fit. Personally, I will not support booksellers who specifically recommend to buys a book that misrepresents Jewish political involvement as a nefarious activity, and especially when that book is suggested to readers who found unrelated books of interest. Accordingly, my support of Borders has been shelved, and I suggest readers consider shelving their support as well until Borders explains its rationale and utilizes policies that prevent theses types of irresponsible decisions from occurring again.

If we all don’t stand up now to these types of subtle messages that reinforce ancient biases and faulty reasoning, then there may be new chapters in the long history book of how times of economic distress have fomented anti-Jewish bias. And that is an updated history book I don’t want in my collection – no matter how much I love books.

Jewish Communal CEO Salaries: Did the Forward’s Coverage Take a Step Backwards?

During these days when we are seeing how social media is fueling a Persian revolution in the Middle East, we can quickly forget that not too long ago Jews used the original form of social media, the newspaper press, to help revolutionize the quality of life of trade workers in the lower east side of New York.  The Jewish Daily Forward, originally a Yiddish only newspaper and the ‘conscience of the ghetto’ was (and still is) an important voice of Jewish America. It has maintained a vigorously independent and socially responsible voice of the Jewish press for over one hundred years. It’s reporting has constantly and consistently challenged its readers to look back at a reflection of the Jewish challenges of the time, while encouraging a forward-looking approach to solving those challenges.

Which is why the Forward’s recent reporting on the compensation of executives of major Jewish organizations is so dismaying. Its coverage raises numerous questions regarding the balance of the its reporting on the issue, and by raising those questions may actually have resulting in an unintended step backwards rather than its typical forward progress.

For those who have not read the article and editorial, in summary it was a report focusing on how several executives of major Jewish organizations did not take a pay cut or pay freeze notwithstanding the layoffs of numerous employees in their respective organizations.   Accompanying the news article, the Forward editorial board wrote “[t]his is not the time to withhold support out of anger or disgust; the needs today are too urgent. Instead, it’s the time to demand accountability from Jewish organizations and their governing boards.”

Now to be clear, I too believe that there is a need for shared sacrifice, and I think that the questions about executive compensation at Jewish organizations merit serious questions and conversations about accountability. I also believe that these questions cannot be ignored.  However, the reporting of news (as opposed to editorializing) about compensation practices at charitable organizations needs to be thoughtful regarding the context of the facts reported.  Each of the Jewish organizations mentioned in the Forward article are large sophisticated organizations with substantially sophisticated professional and volunteer leadership and it is hard to imagine that each of those organizations didn’t consider the issue of executive compensation thoughtfully.  We may not all like the answers, but we should not (as the Forward article seems to) assume some of the questions were not asked. We may demenad accountability, but does the Forward survey really demonstrate a lack of accountability?  Or did it identify a lack of sensitivity? There is a difference, and thoughtful journalism should distinguish between the two – even when editorializing.

However, even if one takes issue with the Forward’s line of reasoning, there is no question that a role of an independent press is to ask the questions the Forward asked, as well as opine as to its own independent analysis on the answers to those questions.  But in my mind, this recent reporting also raises some important questions to be asked of the Forward, and questions it should be asking itself.

1.    Was the story fully reported in a manner that gave complete context to its subject? The Forward focused on only select data (number of employees, total compensation, and personal compensation reduction).  Are there other factors that should have been included in the sampled data that would have given a more complete picture of the fact patter the Forward was reporting?  For example, are those individual executives subject to performance for pay evaluations?  What impact does the decrease in staff have on the increase in executive responsibility? What was the fundraising performance of the respective organizations and what percentages of contributions of those respective organizations are solicited specifically by the chief executive/executive director?  I’m not sure exactly what all of the relative data points are, but it seems like the Forward picked the smallest data set to make the most inflammatory statement.

2.    Was the news report sufficiently neutral when compared to the subjective comments in the editorial analysis? Rereading the article, one is struck by the first paragraph with its tragic/poetic description of waves of crimson lapping below the suites of chief executives. Far from a basic factual framing of the context of the article, that language  establishes the critical tone of the entire reporting effort.  While the reporting does provide a balance of perspectives, one can’t help but find the rhythm and the layout of the story to have a prejudicial orientation. I am not a journalism expert, but it did raise the question in my mind of whether what should have been an objective price of reporting tilted more towards a purposeful lead-in to a subjective editorial.

3.    Did the Forward live up to its own expectations of open disclosure? While highlighting the lack of responsiveness from some executives, it is hard not to wonder if the Forward’s own self-disclosure was sufficient.  A close read of its self- disclosure reads that its executives took a 10% paycut of compensation in excess of $80,000. If the publisher took that cut, based on the Forward’s information, it means the publisher took a approximately a $13,000 pay cut against an approximate $211,000 salary, a little over a 6% paycut.  That 6% is less than the 10% cuts taken by several community executives identified in the article.  My point is not to judge the pay cut, but rather to query whether even the Forward, by making readers do the math, was as forthcoming as it expected its respondents to be. In an article regarding accountability, transparency and leadership, did the Forward sufficiently walk its own talk?

4.   In responding to the factual reporting, did the Forward’s editorial outweigh its criticism over constructive suggestions about CEO compensation practices? The editorial commentary made some valid observations about the need for key executives of non-profits to be responsible regarding compensation in challenging times.  But rather than propose measures to help reinforce that responsibility, the editorial board missed an opportunity to be constructive, as opposed to just being critical. Interestingly, it punctuated its editorial with a reminder of its offer to create a public conversation between community members and community leaders – an important offer indeed. But while wondering why more leaders haven’t taken it up on the offer, did it consider whether it has adequately created an appearance that the conversation would be balanced and unbiased? And did this editorial help or hinder that appearance?

5.    Lastly, how did the Forward balance its Jewish responsibilities regarding the use of speech in the public forum with its reporting on an issue of community tzedakah? Again, I am not a journalism expert, nor an expert on Lashon Hara.  However, it strikes me that when the Forward makes statements that it knows may result in consequences that are damaging (to individuals, to organizations and to communities of need) then it is fair to ask the question of how the Forward balanced its Jewish responsibilities regarding proper speech.  The editorial is quick to argue that the CEO compensation is not enough of a reason for individuals to withhold their support of otherwise worthy charities, but a review of the reader comments suggests that some felt otherwise after reading the story and editorial. What is the Forward’s responsibility in this regard? Is its editorializing of the topic possibly Rechilut, in that it may incite ill feelings regarding otherwise noble charitable causes? These are questions that I would hope the Forward considered, especially given that the financial impact of its use of language may be very real.

To be clear, the Forward (and other Jewish news outlets, including even blogs) serve an important role, and shine an important light on community affairs, even when what we see in that light makes us uncomfortable. But that role is a powerful one that comes with great responsibility. As readers, we too have a responsibility – to ask the questions that challenge our news sources to serve their role in a fair and excellent manner.

Indeed, when we all ask the hard questions, even about those charged with the responsibility of asking hard questions, then we only move in one direction –

forward.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow: Key Questions on Jewish Innovation, Interruption, and Sustainability

In preparing for a recent flight to New York for some meetings that included discussions regarding the state of Jewish social innovation, I compiled a stack of recent ‘want to read, but haven’t yet read’ materials on the topic. But much like the rest of life, my best-laid plans were interrupted when I stopped at a newsstand in the airport to pick up the day’s newspaper. There on the shelf was a BusinessWeek headline too hard to ignore: “Innovation, Interrupted: How America’s failure to capitalize on innovation hurt the economy – and what happens next.”

How’s that for serendipity?

So rather than methodically review the stack I compiled, I boarded the plane and dove right into the BusinessWeek article with fascination.  It raises some key observations and questions regarding the last decade of commercial innovation and how the slowdown (or an evening out) of the nation’s innovation curve may have contributed to the current economic environment.  Focusing on the technology and biotech sectors, the article raises the question of whether innovative development really slowed down at all, or whether the barriers to the commercialization of those developments were the true culprits of stymieing innovation.  Certainly these are questions that are equally applicable to social entrepreneurs as well as those in the for-profit sectors.

The second article was the recent white paper titled The Innovation Ecosystem: Emergence of a New Jewish Landscape. The paper, based on the 2008 Survey of New Jewish Organizations, undertaken by Jumpstart, The Natan Fund and The Samuel Bronfman Foundation, raises several key findings and recommendations, several of which are precise observations that require much deeper consideration.  In reviewing a landscape of over 300 Jewish start-ups then in operation, the paper provides some compelling statistical information supporting a belief that the Jewish innovation is on a growth curve that reflects the underlying changes in 21st century Jewish life and that leverages developing social media and communications technologies.

Finishing the Jumpstart paper, I couldn’t help but think back to the BusinessWeek article I just read and wondered – Jewish innovation is important and seemingly fast-growing, but how do we ensure that this very important Jewish innovation isn’t interrupted?

Certainly we need to make sure that the question of sustainability is considered and anticipated thoughtfully, and not just by those who are active participants in the innovation ecosystem (or what I have previously referred to as the Zera’im movement).  But even more importantly, we need to make sure that the discussion is substantially outweighed by action. Action in developing Jewish innovators, developing models of financial sustainability, encouraging innovation in underrepresented areas of need (i.e. the Jumpstart survey finds that only 2.9% of Jewish start-ups self-identified as primarily social service organizations; a very small percentage given the size of the need), and reducing barriers for success.

Action should trump discussion, for sure. However, for the action to be meaningful, there needs to be some consideration of key questions raised (in my mind at least) by both by the BusinessWeek article and the Jumpstart paper. I don’t have answers to these questions (and I certainly welcome input from those that do), but I list them below as helpful suggestions for you to talk amongst yourselves. They fall into the categories of What, Who, Where, Why and How?

1.     What? First, we need to ask the tricky question of whether we are investing in true innovation that can have a sustainable impact on Jewish life, or are we investing in very niche areas of Jewish interest that are fashionable but not forward-thinking? Is there a difference?  How we answer these questions may very well determine how well we can develop even greater amounts of investment in Jewish innovation in the coming years.

2.     Who? The Jumpstart paper focuses on the ratio that many innovative efforts are independent entities (80%) as opposed to independently operating subsidiaries of larger organizations (20%).  But the question remains, by motivating innovation outside of established organizations, are we dooming those established organizations to an innovation deficit?  Rather than creating an accretive aspect of Jewish communal life, are we inadvertently creating an abscess that may actually damage it?  How can we balance the locus of innovation so that we get maximum benefit with minimum harm?

3.    Where? Are our existing community-based funding organizations  (as opposed to national foundations) sufficiently focused on funding regional and micro-regional Jewish innovation? The Jumpstart survey reinforces the belief that Jewish innovation  (on a percentage basis of surveyed organizations) is greatest in New York and California (57% of surveyed organizations are located in those two states).  Certainly those states have some of the largest population centers, but how do we create a broader national environment of Jewish innovation in places like St. Louis? Charlotte? Houston?

4.     Why? If so few organizations in the innovation ecosystem are focused on human services, how will we balance the legacy needs of existing infrastructure that primarily focus on servicing those needs; especially when those needs will be rapidly escalating as the baby boom generation shifts into an age where they may more frequently need those services?

5.    How? Assuming we believe that greater investment in Jewish innovation is essential to continuing the maintenance of a strong Jewish community, how do we inspire entrepreneurs to innovate in areas of greatest need?  Is that a fair question?  And if we succeed in motivating a shift of substantial regional and micro-regional investment in innovation (i.e. Federations invest more in innovative initiatives and start-ups as opposed to legacy areas of funding) what are the metrics by which we measure the impact of innovation against the cost? Is it the number of entities? Web-clicks? Participants? Or are there more general longitudinal metrics we need to identify and begin to measure?

As the BusinessWeek article suggests, experiencing a few years of innovation does not necessarily forestall great crisis.  We may all be quick to praise the current state of Jewish innovation (and rightfully so), but not without critically assessing what comes next. Also, pointing to characteristics of previous eras of commercial innovation, the BusinessWeek article notes that “no industrial revolution in the past has been based on a single technology” and points to the combination of railroads, electricity, telephone and telegraph as the fuel of the Industrial Revolution, and the confluence of several technologies in the era of innovation that seemed so dramatic in the 1990s.  Accordingly, innovation in one particular area of Jewish life may not be enough, we may need innovation in lots of areas, including inside existing centers of Jewish life. Otherwise, we may find that our innovation is interrupted and – for a people concerned with its survival –  we need innovation that is sustainable.

A Thin Line Between Love and Hate (In Praise of Officer Stephen T. Johns)

One of the things that I enjoy most about being a volunteer in the non-profit world is how often I am amazed at the seemingly limitless capacity for individuals to love another individual, a cause, a nation, and even an entire people.  These compassionate and caring individuals, whether they are professionals, volunteers, donors, or even occasional consumers, constantly remind me that love is a powerful source of charity and that the ways that love manifests itself is near limitless.  On one side of a line, love is what drives imagination and invigoration, in Jewish life and in life in general.  Love is, in essence, what drives so many of us do so many amazingly good things.

But there is another side of that line, and on Wednesday, June 10, 2009 events in Washington D.C. reminded all of us that on the other side of the line from love is pure, unadulterated hate.

Unfortunately, just as love is a powerful motivator, so is hate.  The Shoah was a manifestation of hate, an expression of humankind’s capacity for destruction in the name of hate. So often when we speak of the Holocaust we mention the ‘banality of evil’ – how such a monumental expression of hatred was exercised in the most mundane of actions.  But we can’t forget that the hatred embodied in the Holocaust, while not novel, was anything but banal when we consider it in the context of the senseless death of six million Jews and millions of others. There is no way to memorialize that kind of hate; instead we strive to create memorials to the goodness that such hate extinguished.

And one place that jointly houses the recollection of devastating hatred and the remembrance lost goodness is the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, where once again good encountered evil, love encountered hate. When James Von Brunn opened fire at guards protecting a space housing the memory of devastating hate, he created new, all-to-painful memories that hate has not yet abated.  Just as Jews have endured the consequences of hate since the Holocaust, hatred of Jews has endured since then as well.

James Von Brunn reminded us that there is a thin line between love and hate, and that the line has not faded one bit.  It is a line that has not dimmed with the passage of time or the relocation of place.  Just as that line was once drawn between the 22 year-old SS soldiers who operated gas chambers and the 70 year-old righteous gentiles who hid and saved Jewish souls from those very camps, another line has now been drawn between an 88 year-old murderous anti-Semite and a 39 year-old security guard who served in his own way as a righteous protector of a place of memory for six million Jews.

Officer Stephen T. Johns served as a bulwark on that thin line between love and hate.  In a place built to memorialize how at one time hate bled over the line to decimate a people of love, yet again there was blood spilled on that line; blood of a defender of memory and an obstacle to hate.

So once again, all of us who embrace the desire to do acts of loving-kindness are reminded that while we live so fully on one side of the line, there is another side of the line as well. A side that is holds back more than just despair and ignorance, more than just fear and loathing. It is a side of mankind that is dark and it is evil.

Yes, there is a thin line between love and hate. Stephen T. Johns lived and died defending the better side of that line. His death leaves one less defender on that line, one less defender of boundless love against the ferocity of unrestricted hate. We need a lot more Stephen Johns on that line – including every single one of us.

Then, perhaps, the line won’t be so thin after all.

The Middle East Clock: Eleven Minutes Past and Present

The history of the Jewish people and the State of Israel, like the history of other peoples and nations, is comprised of events and eras, moments and memories. And even though it is counted in lunar years, Israeli and Jewish time exists in the same world of minutes and hours that the rest of the world operates. While the names of months may differ, the day’s events are catalogued in the same twenty-four hour increments.

But for Jews and Israelis, time is not only a continuum of history; it is a chronology of survival. Their history, though filled with experiences of hardships and the implications of evil, is nevertheless a timeline that marks a people’s irrepressible desire to create and survive. This survival instinct was shared by generations of Jewish leaders who endured through history, only to – as Rabbi Ed Feinstein of Los Angeles describes it – “reenter history” upon the creation of the State of Israel in 1948. A reentry into history that may have been short-lived had President Harry Truman not recognized the nascent state a mere eleven minutes after it was declared by David Ben Gurion.

Eleven minutes – a brief moment in the history of the world, a pivotal window of time in the survival of the Jewish people.

And now sixty-one years later, it is hard not to feel that the Jewish people are once again in a time where minutes matter. With that in mind, Prime Minister Netanyahu’s recent visit to Washington D.C. was both a timely visit and a visit about being timely.  Notwithstanding the various perspectives of the politicians and pragmatists, there is an overwhelming unanimity on one matter – the clock is ticking and nobody wants it to get to midnight. The threat of a nuclear Iran, and the instability that it would further foment in the Middle East, are the most substantial existential threats to Israel have has existed since those first fateful minutes in 1948. But the similarities do not stop there.

Once again the United States is in a position where its actions, and the timing of those actions, are critical to the future of the Jewish state. In a world where the deligitimization of Israel has become far too common and where the gathering threats have become even more foreboding, Israel is once again looking to its first and oldest ally to recognize the meaning of minutes. The difference is that in 1948 it was the act of creation of the State of Israel that precipitated action by the United States, now there is a risk that inaction by the United States might allow the threat of an act of destruction of Israel to become unbearably real. Eleven minutes mattered then, eleven minutes matters now.

Like 1948, policymakers in Washington are debating matters relating to the existence of a Jewish state. In 1948, there was substantial turmoil in the Truman White House just days before the declaration of the state of Israel, with George Marshall and Clark Clifford locked in a debate that had great bearing on the future of the Jewish people. Now, in 2009, another great debate is occurring in a different White House as to the manner and timeline in which the Iranian challenge to the United States and Israel will be dealt with. This debate is not just in the White House, but in the halls of Congress as well. And like 1948, there are those who see the threatening clouds in the Middle East as one that requires restraint rather than action. There are the modern-day Marshalls and Cliffords and their debate is no less significant to the fate of Israel as they were then.  Even with the passage of those sixty-one years, we once again find the world in another window of time that feels like it is matter of minutes until the future of Israel is secured or destroyed. With a hateful leader of a resourceful nation racing to build a nuclear weapon that could hasten his desire to see Israel erased from the map of nations and vanished from the annals of history, once again the United States is at a moment where its pronouncements matter, where its intentions are being closely observed.

A few weeks prior to those fateful eleven minutes in May, 1948, Dr. Chaim Weizmann sent President Truman a letter that stated in part: “The choice for our people, Mr. President, is between statehood and extermination. History and providence have placed this issue in your hands, and I am confident that you will yet decide it in the spirit of moral law.” Now, as Israel finds herself in another time where minutes matter, where the choice for Israel is between statehood and extermination, her supporters in Washington D.C. and capitals across the world must once again stand in the face of history and providence and make decisions in the spirit of moral law. Will the United States and its fellow members of the community of nations let this people who have reentered history face the threat of its nation being banished from history again?

We may only have eleven minutes to find out.

Itta Dozntmatter about Federation 2.0: A Response

“As an essayist I don’t believe in the fiction of an anonymous observer. Rather than the sham of objectivity, I think you should put your perspective up front. That’s only fair to the reader.” – Ralph Wiley

One of the most fascinating aspects of writing a blog is the nature of the comments that one receives after a post.  Generally after I post a new essay I receive several comments, some of which are publicly posted to the blog and some of which are emailed to me directly. Oftentimes the comments via email are done in such a manner because the commentator for one reason or another would prefer a direct conversation (or observation) as opposed to a more public contribution to a discussion I am proposing. In each of those cases I have kept (and will always keep) those email conversations confidential. I also have not (and will not) share feedback I receive without permission.  My feeling is that I am not a reporter with anonymous sources, nor is this blog a conduit for me to refract or reframe the comments of others in a manner of my choosing.  This blog reflects my own thoughts;  those who choose to join a conversation can do so publicly via the comment function or with me directly.

However, just as I respect the desires of those who wish to remain confidential when they contact me, I do not provide a forum on my blog for “anonymous” comments. When I receive comments that come from a source that is identifiable, I post them regardless of content and without edit.  When the comment comes from an anonymous email address or a disguised one, I do not post it publicly.  However, since I have not made this practice clear, I have posted the one recent anonymous comment I have received (since it was intended to be public), but going forward I will not post anonymous comments.

The first (and last) anonymous post on my blog is from a commentator named “Itta Dozntmatter” who wrote from an anonymous email address.  Itta (for lack of another name) posted an anonymous comment to my recent Federation 2.0 post and the comment (in its entirety) is as follows:

“Seth -

Are you working with anyone to accomplish this or are you just sitting back spewing ideas and waiting for someone to ask you to actually get your hands dirty? Stop writing, stop pontificating and actually produce a product and put your words into action. You are beginning to sound like the boy who cried wolf!”

Itta – as I do with everyone who contacts me about the blog, I want to thank you. First for reading the blog (I still marvel that people take the time to do so), and second for taking the time to comment. But moreover, you raise a good question, an interesting suggestion and a much-appreciated observation. I will address all three via the blog (since I don’t have your email to contact you directly).

1.    “Are you working with anyone to accomplish this or are you just sitting back spewing ideas and waiting for someone to ask you to actually get your hands dirty?” Itta – the answer to your question is yes to the first part and no to the second part.  As my peers here in Atlanta know (and as a cursory review of my bio would suggest) I am actively engaged inside the “established” Jewish community advancing many of the ideas that I suggest on this blog. I am always careful to note that the ideas in this blog are my own and are not intended to reflect the views of any particular organization. But make no misstate, as while serving as Vice Chair of the Jewish Federation of Greater Atlanta and as an engaged member of the Atlanta Jewish community, I actively speak about and advocate many of the ideas I discuss here.  I think there are numerous change agents in my own community (and elsewhere) that also share many of my same views, and as they contact me we begin to develop even more coordinated discussions about some of the actions I propose. So yes, I am working with others, but not nearly as many as I need. There is a reason I openly post my email – I welcome others to contact me to join a very important discussion in process.

As to the second part of your question, no I am not waiting for someone to ask me to get my hands dirty, I am asking others to get their hands dirty with me.  Contact me and be willing to be part of a group in Atlanta that helps create Federation 2.0 in our community (because I believe the Federation professionals are willing to create that vision hand in hand with local change agents).  But for those not in Atlanta, also contact me and be willing to be part of a national working group of change agents that work in support of a renewed Federation movement (as oppose to working to only eulogize it). And Itta, I would be delighted to have an open conversation about what “getting our hands dirty” means – even if we have different views, I am certain we would agree that the more hands getting dirty the better.

2.    “Stop writing, stop pontificating and actually produce a product and put your words into action.” So I am not certain that stopping writing is the best suggestion, and I very much try not to pontificate. But the idea of producing a product is one that I very much agree with, which is why I wrote and published Federation 2.0: Reimagining the Jewish Federation of Greater Atlanta.  It has plenty of observations, but plenty of actionable steps too. I continue to use that document as a blueprint for many of the actions I believe we need to take locally and nationally, and Itta – I welcome you and others to take that paper, find a piece of it that resonates with you, and lets’ get to work. A committee of one is not very productive, and a voice with no chorus is not very loud. As I now work to develop the local and national working groups that I propose, I am hoping that many of my words and ideas do get converted into actions. But as I am fond of saying, in this kitchen we need more chefs, not less.  Yes, I would like to see the changes I am proposing, but not to the exclusion of change others are seeking. Federation 2.0 isn’t intended to be only my vision, it is intended to be a model in which my vision, your vision and other individuals’ visions of the Federation movement are all shared, evaluated and implemented.  But before we implement tactics, we need to develop a strategy, and before we develop the strategy we need to identify some common principles of what our renewed movement will look like and feel like. The development of those principles comes from a discussion.  And a discussion is the very first action we need to take, but it needs to be an expeditious and inclusive action.  Sometimes I feel like I am having a one way conversation, I would be delighted if you joined me in this first action step, and then each of the action steps that follows.

3.    “You are beginning to sound like the boy who cried wolf!” Itta – thank you, that is good feedback. One of the hardest parts about writing a blog is the development and refinement of voice. To who am I writing and why am I writing at all? These questions vex me often when I sit down to write. Equally challenging is knowing how my voice is heard and interpreted – am I seen as a thoughtful critic that believes in the Federation movement but concerned that it has been transformed into a “system”?  I hope so. Am I a person who likes combining my experiences (good and bad) with ideas in my head in a thoughtful way then transforming those thoughts into action?  I am.   Do I always get the balance right?  Probably not. In the words of Whitman, I contain multitudes, and this blog reflects many (but not all) of them. You are telling me I am beginning to sound shrill, and that is important to know. Even if that opinion is not universally shared, I am certain it is shared by others. And it is a good reminder to me that I need to continue to develop my voice, and balance my thinking with doing.  But one disagreement – unlike the story about the boy that cries wolf, I am not lying – there really is a wolf. It is called apathy and it is already scattering much of the flock.

Lastly, I am fascinated by the anonymous name you chose for yourself.  As it is written, the name we make for ourselves says a great deal about who we are, what we do and how people perceive us. I write this blog under my name because I am hopeful of change I propose and I believe that my thoughts and words matter in helping create change, as will my actions.

I don’t know what your name is – you say Itta Dozntmatter.

My name is Seth Cohen – and I say it does.

Good Decisions in Bad Times: In Praise of Federation Community Allocations

In the words of Thomas Paine (or depending on your musical taste, the Kingston Trio) – these are the days that try men’s souls. With the economy in tatters, jobless numbers swelling, and pocketbooks suffering, charities all over the country are facing decreased campaigns and increased needs.  And of course in the Jewish community, the campaigns of federations have not been immune to this swift and painful downturn. Even those campaigns got an early start before the full onslaught of the economic retreat was felt have suffered substantial drop-off in contributions. In addition, there is the broad impact of Madoff, shrinking endowments and reduced government grants. Yes, these are trying times that can freeze us in the face of the challenges presented. But they are also times where we must nevertheless make decisions on how to confront those challenges. In the federation world, those decisions are often made by community allocations committees.

The good news? Even in bad times, these committees are making good decisions.

Taking my own community as an example, this week the Jewish Federation of Atlanta concluded its allocations process by accepting and approving the thoughtful and balanced recommendation of the local allocations committee. Paradoxically, even in these troubling times, the allocations decisions gave us all something to feel good about. Now make no mistake, nobody felt good about the decreased resources – notwithstanding the heroic efforts of the campaign team it is natural for everyone to wish there was more money to allocate to worthy affiliates and grantees. But what felt good was our collective understanding and appreciation of the way the allocations committee deliberated and decided how community resources should be allocated to meet community needs. The process was thoughtful, inclusive and exhaustive – and even though it resulted in reduced allocations for all, it balanced those reductions with targeted allocations to areas in which need is greatest. Painful decisions perhaps, but smart decisions nevertheless. And the best part? The tough decisions were made not by professionals or hired consultants, but the very members of the community that will be impacted by those decisions.

Now it is popular these days to bemoan how Jewish philanthropy is changing, that the sovereign donor is making more of his/her own choices independent of communal campaigns. In addition, the generosity of individual philanthropists lulls us into a false sense of security that foundations will always meet the targeted needs of the community. But there is an undeniable fact that a community allocations process, run effectively and inclusively like the one in Atlanta, results in broader, more sensitive and more balanced impact than independent decisions by individual donors and foundations. While foundations can be myopic in their focus, federation community allocations decisions must be based on a wide view of community need and consensus.

There is a reason why allocations committees have endured in our communities for so long – because they work.

So now, whereas for many years we have praised foundations at the expense of federations, in these trying times we should be thankful that we have our fellow community members making community decisions. Indeed, in many cases like today in Atlanta, these decisions seem imbued with the wisdom of King Solomon. Balancing local needs with out commitment to Jews overseas, weighing core human services needs with the need to provide education scholarships, maintaining infrastructure while also supporting outcome-focused initiatives – all of these balancing acts can only be genuinely conceived and decided by people who genuinely feel a part of the community they are serving.

Our challenges in these difficult days are great, but not unprecedented. We are reminded that, like now, there once was a time recorded in the Book of Judges (Nevi’im) that there was no king in Israel and everyone did as they pleased. These days we too have no king, and many times it seems like everyone is doing what pleases him or her. Nevertheless, we should not lose sight that in each of our towns and cities we have a kinship of community that demonstrates the wisdom of kings;  wisdom expressed by making community allocations decisions that give us all a reason to be proud – even in times that try our souls.

(Not) Waiting for Godot: Five Steps Toward Federation 2.0

“ESTRAGON:  (giving up again).  Nothing to be done.

VLADIMIR: (advancing with short, stiff strides, legs wide apart). I’m beginning to come round to that opinion. All my life I’ve tried to put it from me, saying Vladimir, be reasonable, you haven’t yet tried everything. And I resumed the struggle.”

Any fan of Samuel Beckett (or individuals with a passing knowledge of theater) will know those lines as the opening lines of “Waiting for Godot,” one of the most intriguing (and debated) plays of the modern era.  Notwithstanding its acclaim and endurance, questions continue to be asked about the message Beckett was trying to convey. Who was Gadot? And in the event he arrived (which he never does), what would happen?

Over the past few weeks the “Godot” question has plagued me, but for a different reason. As the conventional Jewish communal calendar comes to its summer recess, there is still a substantial question raised by many (including me in my previous posts): what is the future of the Federation movement?  For much of the Jewish world, this is a marginal question (at best) and increasingly an irrelevant question (at its most dangerous); but for those who have busied themselves with wondering about this future aloud, there tends to be a recurring and Godot-esque response: “let’s wait and see what the next leadership does when she/he arrives.”

Here is my suggestion: let’s not wait for Godot.

If we are truly in the window of opportunity to reframe and renew one of our most central, enduring, and impactful modern Jewish movements, then we can’t rely merely on the arrival of a professional CEO or the engagement of new volunteer leadership. We need to take significant, broad-ranging and constructive actions (not just budget cuts) to bring Federation 2.0 into being.  And we need lots of participants in this endeavor, participants that are not satisfied waiting for change, but participants who want to create change.

We have not been at such a fundamental inflection point in the Federation movement for decades. Not to slight the many years of merging, restructuring and strategizing, but those were inflection points tied to reorganizing the Federation system. What I am writing of is reimagining the Federation movement. Once the movement is reimagined, we can then begin the process of converting our system to meet the vision of a renewed movement.

However, to look forward, we can use wisdom by looking to our past. At one of the our movement’s great moment of inflection, at the 1969 General Assembly, Rabbi Hillel Levine, then a student, spoke of being part of the “children of timelessness” who nevertheless want to “participate in building the vision of a great Jewish community.”
In what could easily pass as something being heard in 2009, Levine said in 1969 “we don’t want commissions to ‘explore the problems of youth.’”  Rather, he stated, “we do want to convert alienation into participation, acrimony into joy – the joy of being possessors of a great legacy – a legacy which has meaning for today.”

In similar spirit, it is time again to bring forward the great legacy of the Federation movement in America to have relevance today. And we don’t have time to wait. We need to act, and act swiftly.

In personal hindsight, eighteen months ago when I first started circulating the white paper titled Federation 2.0: Reimagining the Federation of Greater Atlanta, I made (at least) two mistakes. One, I relied on thoroughness over brevity, making the action plan too lengthy and detailed to make it actionable. And second, I encouraged talk rather than action. Learning from my experiences I now propose, in brief form, specific action steps for bringing Federation 2.0 into reality and helping us all take possession of the great legacy that awaits us.

1.   Refrain from placing blame about the status of Federation 1.0. There are many who would be quick to compose a laundry list  (privately and publicly) of all those who are to blame for the current state of the Federation system and constituent Federations. Where does that get us?  It is an empty endeavor that does not hasten the development of Federation 2.0, and traffics more in institutional memory than impassioned creativity.  The blame game is destructive and dividing, and our endeavor to move forward is weakened by both. Regardless of how our opinions may differ, our endeavors should be based on kavod and the language we should use with one another should be language worthy of our endeavor. Let’s leave the ‘I and thou’ to Buber and focus on the “we and us” While actions matter, language does as well.

2.    Engage our legacy. How many smart women and men have been engaged in the Federation movement only to eventually find their passion and engagement waning for one reason or another?  Locally and nationally we need to reach out to the disaffected and disenchanted, we need to harness their memory to help create a different future. And not only people, we need to remember some of our texts. Not just religious texts, but communal texts. Levine’s speech, Rabbi Herb Friedman’s book, Heschel’s essays on radical amazement – the history of our movement and the ideas of our people should inspire us to recall our mission even as we reimagine our approach.

3.    Open source our ideas. In the few short years I have been engaged in Jewish communal leadership I have been amazed at the insight and creativity inside of both career social workers and emerging social entrepreneurs. In reimaginging the Federation movement, we cannot engage only those that meet certain experience levels and donor status, we need to engage passionate Jews at in all stages and interests. We need to open up the discussion broadly, energetically, imaginatively, and audaciously. We need to use social media tools, virtual town halls and in-person listening tours we need to move swiftly, but not by being exclusive in our discussions. Yes, there is always a place for focused discussions of our most generous supporters, but as I discussed in the Federation 2.0 white paper, we need to make sure that we do not forget that the base is broader than the pinnacle and our movement is one of many, not few.

4.   Create a national Federation 2.0 working group. This is not just a New York City project, and with apologies, it is not just Chicago, Boston, Atlanta, and Los Angeles’ project either. It is not just a “Big City” project and it is not jut an executive committee project. It is a national project. It will require input from Seattle and Savannah, Providence and Pittsburgh.  We will need engaged leaders from all over the nation to commit to a discussion where we frame a national agenda for the Federation movement. This working group is not inside out or outside in, but a true partnership between those inside the system and those outside of it.  An agenda should be set for discourse, but with a goal towards answers. This working group should be self identified immediately, and begin its work immediately, with substantial discussion having occurred by November.

5.    Utilize the 2009 General Assembly as a forum for the debate and adoption of a renewed agenda and approach for the national Federation movement. Forty years have passed since that 1969 GA, and it is time that we engage in a discussion and debate of the magnitude we had then.  UJC should reframe the GA in the context of a great national debate, and rather than recognizing ribbons we should look to rigorously debate a national agenda for our movement. Call it “GA 2009: Reframing, Reimagining, and Renewing our Movement.” Cut the attendance cost and bring people of all backgrounds and ages to be part of the discussion.  Create nationwide conversations during the same days for those that can’t come to Washington (and nationwide plenaries via national teleconferences and webcasts).  Then, at the conclusion of the GA, adopt an agenda and national approach that is bold and imaginative. Create working groups for that agenda to continue the national dialogue and to keep us accountable regarding our approach. And let our movement once again spread across the country energetically from the bottom up, not the top down.

So there you have it, five actionable steps for the development of Federation 2.0. Yes, we still need leadership to arrive and yes, we should have high expectations of her/him.  But we cannot wait for Godot.  As that play ends…

“VLADIMIR: Well, shall we go?
ESTRAGON: Yes, Let’s Go.”

We too must go – go forward.  Who’s ready?

History, Facts, Faces, and Faith: The Case for Maintaining Overseas Allocations

It is that time of year again, the time of counting. I don’t mean just the counting of the Omer, which we do, daily in our synagogues and temples; I mean the counting of dollars and cents raised by our communities as part of our various Jewish community fundraising campaigns. It is the time when we make our final estimates and declare our final projections; the time when we begin to make decisions about where the dollars we raise will go, and how they will be spent.

And this year, more so than any in recent memory, there are fewer dollars and there are harder decisions.

Our communities at home in the United States are all suffering from the unprecedented economic hardships – the ledger of financial resources is short and the list of people in need is long. Our day schools are suffering attrition at rates that are alarming and emergency assistance requests are increasing at a pace that is dismaying.  With all this in mind, there is an increasing sense across American Jewish communities that we need to make sure that before we send too many Jewish dollars overseas to Israel, to the JDC, to the Jewish Agency for Israel, that we must take care of our needs here at home first, at the expense of our overseas allocations.  Not without hand wringing and hearts breaking, we argue and posture that ‘just this year’ we can reduce our overseas allocations to keep more money in our communities.

But after seven years of serving as a volunteer in local Federation planning and allocations decisions, and notwithstanding my involvement in many local Jewish organizations, I am convinced more than ever of the following:  in this time of economic crisis, we should not and cannot disproportionately sacrifice our overseas allocations for our local needs.

There are four reasons why we must honor our commitment to Jews across the world, most substantially in Israel and the Former Soviet Union: History, Facts, Faces, and Faith.

History is significant threefold  – the history of combined philanthropy, the recent history of our local communities, and the history our children and grandchildren will learn. As we sit around our board rooms in our Federations and Jewish Welfare Boards, we cannot and should not forget that much of the history of combined philanthropy was to efficiently and powerfully address the needs of Jews around the would.  That is our history, and that remains our mission. Certainly recent economic history challenges perception of our past, we more viscerally remember our much more recent local history of retraction and need.  In the midst of this recent history, we cannot help but momentarily forget how we got here when we are overwhelmed of the question of where to go in the future.

But we should not forget we are making history too – how we respond to this crisis will be recorded for our children and grandchildren to know. And they should know this – even when we suffered at home, we never forgot our obligations abroad.  Our history should show, it must show, that in time of our greatest need, we still honored our past – we remembered the places of our history and the needs of Jews that still remain in those places.

The facts and faces of overseas needs are critical factors to remember in our allocations decisions and oftentimes are the most easily forgotten. Our local needs confront us every day, we feel their impact, and we know the people who suffer the loss. We are also inundated with data and information that build the case for keeping dollars at home in our own communities.  We are overwhelmingly persuaded by the facts and faces that surround us when we are making our decisions – we know what we will feel when we walk out of our boardrooms, and even more so, we know what we will hear.

That is exactly why we must not sacrifice our commitment to helping Jews overseas. The facts are no less compelling – in these economic times the need is even greater in Israel and FSU.  The pain is even higher. The danger of losing Jews is even greater, and the other networks of support are even weaker. We know, factually, that the need exists. Butt we don’t see there faces everyday – we don’t know their names.  When we walk out of our boardrooms, we won’t hear from them; they won’t call to complain.

They will be the silent cuts – and the faces we do not see. And while our local community needs will be more apparent to us over the coming year, and motivate us to dig into our pockets even deep in the coming year, the needs of our brothers and sisters in Israel, FSU and elsewhere will still be far removed from us.  We can’t forget them now, because we may not remember them later.

Lastly, our overseas allocation is a matter of our faith. Not just our faith in one another, but our faith in G-d as well. As a Jewish people we are in a great partnership – not just in communities and not just with our “overseas partners,” but we are partners with G-d in acts of creation, of sustenance, and of compassion for G-d’s people.  That partnership not only includes those partners we see day-to-day and live in our towns and neighborhoods. We have partners all over the world that have joined with us in G-d’s acts of creation throughout history. We cannot choose to recognize that partnership in part; we must recognize it in whole. And this partnership, this holy partnership requires us to make holy decisions – decisions that require sacrifice of ourselves.

So there it  – history, facts, faces, and faith. The four legs of the table on which we must do our counting; the four factors we must consider when doing our deciding how we will protect and preserve our support of our fellow Jews overseas. It is my case for preserving our overseas allocations this year, and it is my plea.  But my questions remain:

In this time of counting – how will we count? And who?

The Federation Movement is Dead; Long Live the Federation Movement

Perhaps one of the most frequently heard refrains regarding any existing organization, initiative or program is that “if it didn’t exist, we would need to create it.”  It is spoken in boardrooms and parking lots, by professionals and volunteers alike. It is often said in moments of frustration and defense, and rarely in times of admiration. It is a refrain that often is much more true than false, but is often used falsely in the defense of ideas that have grown stale in a tin breadbox of conviction.

We often say this about our local Federations, the Federation system and United Jewish Communities.  We say, with firm conviction, “if they didn’t exist, we would need to create them.”  We say that the current model of Federations may need to change, but that the need for Federations has not changed. We say that if we can only fix what is broken we can preserve what is of value.

But what if we are wrong?

What if our current model of the Federation system is of a nature that is fundamentally past its prime? What if the effort to adapt our Federation system and reengineer United Jewish Communities exhausts us from using those same energies and intellect to create anew?

We must have the strength to come to a fundamental realization about the state of the Federation Movement as embodied by our current Federation system –

it is dead.

But in its death, it presents an opportunity for it to be reborn.

While the basis of its need still exists, we have long ago outgrown the humble origins of the Federation system. The history of its birth, its growth, and its decline is a great chapter in American Jewry. But it is only a chapter… there must be another.

Now there are those reading this essay that will immediately start defensively listing all of the successes and the triumphs of the last century of federated Jewry. Make no mistake, all of those successes and triumphs are due recognition for their displays of strength and appreciation for their magnificent results. There is no question that this Movement has achieved more that we could have imagined…

but we need to imagine more.

We now, at this moment of unparalleled economic challenge, find ourselves looking at a Movement that has shed much of its “move” and is hand wringing too much about what it has “meant.”  It is a Movement that has been transformed into an establishment that has lost its flexibility to adapt to the times in which it exists. Federation infrastructure has remained a tool that is highly responsive during times of crisis, but is adrift when the crisis abates. The Federation system, no matter how innovative and forward thinking some of its leadership is, nevertheless does not present itself as the vanguard of Jewish innovation.

So in retrospect, as the Movement matured, and in its effort to harness wealth and achieve outcomes, it failed to ignite imaginations.  It turned from organizations created by need into organizations maintained by inertia. The Movement no longer was shaped by visionaries like Herb Friedman, but by committees and quorums.  As the Movement matured, (notwithstanding its financial success), what was once communal became further professionalized and what was once dynamic slowly ossified.

And as the Movement matured, it could not help but begin to grow tired from carrying its own legacy on its back. Even in its age, it was resilient  – the Israel Emergency campaigns proved that – but it nevertheless began to die. Our praise turned to platitudes, our exhortations turned to excuses. And like a modern day Council of the Four Lands, our Movement became more of a spectacle than a success, a gathering of individuals rather than a gathering of ideas.  In the face of ever surmounting challenges, it became a Movement much more focused on reengineering than reimagining.

So now, with Federation after Federation retrenching, reformulating and reducing, the Movement is gasping its last breaths – smothered by a system gasping for air and dollars. Community institutions of philanthropic engagement are morphing into professional centers of philanthropic management.  They have taken the 80/20 rule to its logical and most dangerous extreme and, as a result, engineered the narrowing, not the expansion of the Federation Movement. In many ways, the Federation Movement as we once knew it is dead.

So now we must face the question squarely – if it doesn’t exist, do we need to create it anew?

I think the answer is yes.  And the time to do it is now.

Jewish Leadership at the Water’s Edge: A Call for Action

With all of the change swirling around us, it has been challenging to organize, synthesize and verbalize my thoughts on the state of the Jewish community in 2009. The organizations in which I am involved, like all of the organizations in which we are all involved, are struggling to reconcile the challenges with the needs and the resources with the requirements.  And while normally I am one to encourage systematic and methodical planning, now I feel like we must boldly  lead by action.  And in order to encourage  action by others, we must do more than just evaluate and understand the nature of our adversity; we must fearlessly lead our communities through our challenges to reach the other side of greatness.  Until now, I have not been able to articulate this strong desire to see my fellow community members, volunteers, and professionals, rise up and lead.  I have listened to planners and prognosticators, seers and scholars, each one of them expressing their voices… their view of what we need to do.  But now I have finally found my voice that I have been searching for and below is my encouragement, my cajoling – my plea – that we not let this moment pass without a great uprising of Jewish leadership… strong and visionary leadership that will lead us through these stormy waters.  This is not a plan… it is a call to action for Jewish leaders at the water’s edge.

From time to time in the history of the Jewish people, moments arise that challenge us to reinforce our Jewish faith and reassert our Jewish purpose. There are, at these moments, great leaders that help us understand and define the decisions we must make and the paths we are offered to follow.  In some cases they are leaders that are shaped by the moments, and in other case they are moments shaped by the leaders. In each case, they help achieve clarity of vision in foggy milieus of difficulty. They are leaders that take bold steps while providing gentle reassurance. They are leaders that do not just stand with us at the water’s edge, but who lead us into the sea and across the river.  Such leaders are called forward in each generation of adversity and drink from the well of Jewish strength that runs deep through our generations and refreshes each succeeding generation of leaders that come to drink from it. These leaders appear in the chronicles of Jewish history at the moments of their calling and leave legacies of faith and fearlessness, courage and community.

My friends, this is our moment, and we must be those Jewish leaders for our time.

We cannot underestimate the challenges we are facing nor the opportunities available for us to embrace. We live in a time where the establishment of the State of Israel still stirs our hearts, but the existential challenges it faces still turns our stomachs and in a time where seemingly limitless financial prosperity has suddenly turned into seemingly limitless financial distress. We live in an era where the quality of Jewish education gives us great encouragement, but the magnitude of Jewish assimilation gives us even greater pause for concern.  We face an increasing amount of anti-Semitism, yet some of the greatest damage to our Jewish infrastructure is the result of thievery of one of our own.  Even in the face of the hate of strangers, we still struggle to build bonds of brotherhood and understanding with one another.

Our challenges are great and they are many.

Yes, these are challenging moments – the moments that call out for great Jewish leaders. For leaders with vision and boldness, with an understanding of the bastions of our heritage and the towers of our future.  Leaders who know that the brightness of the Jewish experience, the collective Jewish journey on which we are all traveling, cannot dim and cannot end. It is an experience bound by a covenant that we must uphold and cannot revoke. In these times, the call for these leaders is strong, it is overwhelming, and it is deafening.

We must answer that call. We must be those leaders.

But being those leaders will mean more than just answering a call – it means more than just showing up. That is not leadership – that is attendance. We must search not only our hearts, but also our history. We must not bemoan the tests that face us, but we must engage the texts that teach us. We cannot muddle or meet our way through our challenges; we must face them squarely and respond to them strongly. We cannot simple respond hineini – we must do more than that.  We must not just say we are here; we must show how we will go from here to there.

But how can we do this? Our institutions are shaken and our strategy is unclear. We cannot plan on relying on only that which we know, but also that which we must create. We must reimagine not only our institutions, but also the way we, as individuals, encounter those institutions.  We must face our challenges, not turn away from them in the hope they will be delayed or distracted. We cannot believe that help is on the way and that time will bring reinforcements – we must be that help and we must signal that time.  Indeed, our strength lies not in safety by avoidance, but by the certitude of Jewish survival.

This is our time, we cannot hide and we cannot falter.

The Jewish leaders before us have faced slavemasters and emperors. They have faced those from outside who would harm us and those from within who have betrayed us.  Those leaders have faced the type of evil and uncertainty that suffocates the sprit and weakens the knees.  But in each generation those leaders have embraced the breath of survival and stiffened their backs in the face of earth-shattering blows. They have fought our enemies from the caves of the deserts and through the walls of ghettos. They sacrificed themselves in their unwavering faith in their God and their people and left legacies of pride and resoluteness.  They did not falter, and nor can we. We must respond to this moment, we must breathe deep breathes of courage and together firmly face our challenges.

We must not just stand at the water’s edge, we must cross.

Like Moses and like Joshua, we cannot simply stand on this side of the water.  We must have faith that in crossing among the high waves we will be fulfilling the next phase of our own journey forward.  We cannot turn back and we cannot hesitate. What stands on the opposite side is not death and despair, but beauty and redemption – nothing less then the next holy steps of a holy people.  We cannot refrain from taking those steps; we must take them with fervor and firmness. As leaders, we must cross that which threatens to engulf us, but cannot extinguish us. We must go to the water’s edge, and we must be the leaders that those waters demand of us.

This is our moment. We must be the leaders standing at the water’s edge.

And for the sake of our and future Jewish generations –

We must cross together.

The Rally and the Realization

Like other Jewish communities across the United States and the world, on Wednesday night (January 7) the Atlanta Jewish community hosted a rally in support of Israel in its fight against Hamas terror. There were hundreds of individuals in attendance  – Jews from across the community, Christian supporters of Israel, elected officials and other members of the Atlanta community.  Sponsored by the Jewish Federation of Greater Atlanta and organized by members of the local Israel Professional Council, the rally included passionate presentations by numerous community members, including Steve Rakitt, the President of the Jewish Federation of Greater Atlanta, Ambassador Reda Mansour – the Consul General of Israel to the Southeast United States, Rabbi Ilan Feldman, Scott Allen  – a regional leader of Christians United for Israel, Mayor Jere Wood – the mayor of Roswell, Georgia, and numerous others.  It was a powerful evening of community and solidarity – from the opening notes of the Star Spangled Banner to the final notes of Hatikva, the night was filled with passion for Israel and support for its fight against the enemy it faces.

But the most powerful moment I encountered did not occur during the rally, but occurred just before the it began. As I was walking from my car toward the synagogue at which the rally was held, a young man yelled toward me, asking me to wait for him. He was new to town and was not certain exactly where the synagogue was. He had heard about the rally and cared enough to come, even though he would not know anybody there.

His name is Puneet. He is not Jewish, he is of Indian descent.

As we walked toward the synagogue we exchanged introductions and pleasantries. But I could help ask – why was he there? Why come out to a rally where he did not know a single person? Why spend that night away from his wife in a room full of strangers?

And then that most powerful moment occurred.  As we walked together in the cool night, Puneet shared with me that he was there because he felt, while not a Jew or an Israeli, that India’s fight against terror and hate, was the same fight that Israel was fighting. He recognized that the hate and venom that fuels terrorist murders in India, most recently in Mumbai, is the same hate and venom being rained down on Israel in the form of Qassam and Grad missiles. Puneet felt that even though he was not a Zionist, he too felt “enough was enough.” He came to stand with Israel because he believed Israel’s fight is just.

Puneet reminded me, in the moments of our conversation, that while supporters of Israel often feel alone, we are not. There are good people, Christians, Indians, people of all creeds and colors that believe in the justness of Israel’s fight against terror and the terrorist organizations like Hamas that traffic in hate and violence.  That while we often feel (and many times rightfully so) that the world opinion is resoundingly anti-Israel, there nonetheless are voices that join our chorus of support for Israel. They are not necessarily our coreligionists, but they are kindred souls. They believe in hope, in freedom, and in peace. They believe that people have a right to feel safe from the shattering explosions of terror, and freedom from the specter of death that is designed by merchants of division.

They stand with us as we stand with Israel.

As we entered the synagogue, Puneet and I were separated, and I did not see him the rest of the evening. But I received an email from him the next morning, and he shared with me how much he learned during the rally, and how much he was glad to meet with other like-minded people. He and I agreed to meet again – to continue a conversation we started as we walked to that synagogue in order to attend a rally for a country that represented our shared ideal.

Israel is important. It is important to Jews, to Christians, to Indians, and to people who appreciate its values and who support it in its struggles. It is important to Puneet.

And for that we should be grateful and inspired.

I know I am.  Thanks Puneet.

Memo to the (Federation) File: It is time for the “He” to be a “She”

This past week I had the unusual opportunity to participate in breakfast briefings with two outstanding professionals that head two important international Jewish organizations. First, I attended a small breakfast with Robert Singer, Director General of World ORT.  Then two days later I was invited to the home of our local Federation president for a breakfast briefing by Moshe Vigdor, the Directory General of the Jewish Agency. Both men are impressive and both men projected skill and confidence even when discussing the immense challenges their respective organizations face in these uncertain economic times.  Reflecting back on both meetings, both educated me about the issues facing international Jewry, and both reminded me of the importance of organizational excellence.  Two meetings, two outstanding men.

But as I look back at the similarities of the meetings, here’s the question that is most on my mind…

What about the women?

I have thought a great deal about this question recently, in part because of my two daughters, but also in part because the absence of women professional leadership in Jewish organizations is conspicuous to those of us who spend a great deal of time in Jewish communal affairs. When I look around my own community in Atlanta I see a substantial number of women in volunteer leadership roles, presidents of federation, schools, the JCC, synagogues and so on.  And I see women in numerous professional roles in those same organizations.  In fact, I see Jewish women in all aspects of Jewish life except in one place…

… at the very top.

I know that I am not the first to notice (or bemoan) this fact, and I have found several resources that have been instructive on shaping my perspective on the matter.  Most substantially, I have found the report “Creating Gender Equity and Organizational Effectiveness in the Jewish Federation System: A Research-and-Action Project” prepared on behalf of Advancing Woman Professionals and the Jewish Community and United Jewish Communities to be a helpful (albeit four-year old) point of reference in my statistical understanding of the issue.

There is a significant amount of research on the question of where women are at in professional Federation leadership, and there even has been some action.  But clearly not enough.

So here is one piece of advice on how to take action, substantial and meaningful action, in addressing the woman deficit in CEO roles at international and national Jewish organizations:

Make sure the next CEO of United Jewish Communities is a woman.

I suggest this knowing full well that some critics might assert that I am proposing status outweigh merit.  That is not the case at all. Especially since I believe that there are several qualified candidates that would have both status AND merit. Focused searches are frequently used to find CEOs that have key attributes that an organization needs, and this case would be no different.  If UJC is serious about taking action to put women leaders in top positions throughout the Federation system (a clear and important need), then the best place to start is at the very top.  That would be action that is well overdue.

Much has been made of the nature and power of women’s philanthropy and the annual Lion of Judah conference held recently in Israel amply showcased way women personify such power and generosity.  But women have more to offer the Federation system than just their dollars and their wisdom in leadership of our volunteer and lay organizations. They also offer skill, perspective and judgment that can lead our professional organizations as well.

The UJC website notes that “Jewish women are setting the standard for creative philanthropic giving and commitment to future generations.”  I could not agree more. But it is time to change website rhetoric into organizational action.  If UJC wants to take a bold step in demonstrating its commitment to future generations of women in the field it will make sure that it sets the standard by selecting a woman as its next professional leader.

It’s time for the “he” to be a “she” – and with all due respect to Robert and Moshe, I look forward to seeing “her” at a breakfast briefing in Atlanta sometime soon.

(Jewish) Community Organizing: Lessons from the Obama Campaign

Regardless of one’s political affiliation, the recent election of Barack Obama as the forty-fourth president of the United States is a momentous event to consider. In a time of dramatic concern by so many, the Obama campaign has given an equal number of people in the world a moment of radical amazement.  There are certainly many lessons to be learned with respect to the Obama campaign in the political context, but the strategies and tactics deployed by the Obama campaign also hold numerous lessons of how we can better organize our Jewish communities.

1.    Positive messages create positive results.  Certainly in 2008 there were numerous negative topics to be discussed, including a war in the Middle East, and a troubled economy at home.  But Obama, while voicing concern about those several topics, nevertheless focused on a message of hope and change. So too must our Jewish community focus on positive messages.  While so much of our Jewish message is framed in the context of “never again,” too little of it is framed in the context of “Yes we can.”  True, there are great challenges facing our community – slowing affiliation, a nuclear Iran and Jewish apathy.  But much is going right as well – and we need a positive message if we expect people to join a positive Jewish campaign for change.

2.    Small contributions count as much as big ones.  Much has been made of the Obama campaign’s record-shattering fundraising.  But what has been remarkable about that effort is how many of the contributors were first-time political contributors and how many made small, but repeated, contributions. Also remarkable was the way Obama’s campaign tapped into the financial power of the netroots community.  Our Jewish community would be wise to quickly learn these fundraising lessons and apply them to our own efforts.  We are missing a tremendous opportunity to engage community members philanthropically in new and different ways – ways successfully deployed by the Obama campaign.

3.    Investment in field operations and social networks matter.   The Obama campaign redefined the power of the ground game in the recent election. Whereas Hillary Clinton focused on the big states with large primaries, Obama also focused on the states that had caucuses, understanding the power of small collections of passionate individuals. By engaging in places big and small, Obama created a network that engaged voters where they were in ways they wanted to be engaged, where in person or online. Sounds like something we would be wise to do with American Jews – meeting Jews where they are, and leveraging emerging social technologies to make those meetings happen.  We need to improve our Jewish ground game, before that game becomes too difficult to win.

4.    Agents of change still need voices of experience. Obama knew that one of his greatest weaknesses was the perception of his inexperience. So what did he do to counter that criticism? He found one of the most experienced senators to serve as his running mate. Rather than fear the influence of a more experienced leader, Obama embraced it. We should apply the same lessons in our Jewish communities.  While we need to embrace the fresh ideas that come from inexperienced Jewish innovators, we need to make sure those innovators embrace the experience and wisdom of our more seasoned leaders.

5.    Words matter. Perhaps the one critical mistake of the Obama campaign was when he commented that voters in Pennsylvania were bitter and cling to their guns and religion.  The Obama campaign credits that moment as a defining one in the campaign – after that episode Obama took a greater role in the campaign and worked to more carefully craft his message.  The care we need to use in choosing words in the Jewish community is no less important. When we refer to the “problem” of intermarriage we would be wiser to describe it as a “challenge.” Just like voters don’t like to be considered bitter, spouses don’t like to consider their marriages problems. If we want to be successful in our campaign for the engagement of more Jews, we should mind our words carefully.

6.    Create multiple paths to success.  Early in the campaign the Obama campaign said they were going to create multiple paths victory, including campaigning in states long ceded to the Republicans. And that is exactly what they did, so that on election night there were multiple ways for the electoral votes to add up in Obama’s favor. If we are wise, the Jewish community will learn from this experience and also focus on strengthening multiple paths to engagement.  If we want the numbers to add up, we need to create new and novel ways of Jewish engagement.

7.   Embrace the complexities of identity.  Obama has a complex racial background, one he embraced and transcended during the campaign. The Jewish people also have a complex background, filled with nuanced and conflicting identities.  Rather than getting mired in identity conflicts, like Obama we need to find common threads that help us transcend our individual insecurities about our identity.  Jewish identity has become a word we struggle to define and often endeavor to avoid. We should embrace the complexities of Jewish identity and perhaps we may find that there will be many more of us to embrace.

8.    Believe.  Obama believed he could win the presidency, and defying all expectations, he did.  People believed in his potential to effect change because it encouraged a belief that change could occur. Perhaps no greater lesson to be learned the Jewish community is the power of belief – belief in one another and belief in our collective ability to make our Jewish community stronger.

So there you have it, eight lessons from the ’08 Obama campaign. Even with these lessons in hand, it is fair to wonder if can we change the way our Jewish community engage individuals with the same level of success the Obama campaign achieved.  The parallels are remarkable – just like the current state of our nation, the current state of American Jewry gives us much for concern, but much more for pride. And while even the greatest challenges may still lie ahead of us, the strength of our Jewish past and the resilience of our Jewish spirit give us much to aspire for our collective Jewish future.

As a Jewish people, can we too achieve our goals?  The answer must be no different that the one boldly spoken by our new president on a clear, and clearly victorious night  – yes we can.

And we must.

One Year Later…

In a rare occurrence, I have back to back personal posts, and for those who regularly read this blog for my other essays, I apologize.  For those who have read this blog form its beginning, you know that it was inspired  by my friend Jon Barkan z’l who passed on from this world one year ago today.  There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about my friend, and what we all miss in his absence.  Nevertheless, while we honor those who have died with our memories, we also honor them with our lives and the way we live them. Even as we find ourselves sometimes lingering in the shadow of death, we must draw ourselves into the light of the living – to fill voids, to create anew and to celebrate all that life has to offer. I am certain that is what Jon would say  -  and that is what I now say as well.

This morning I was given the privilege of addressing a group of pro-Israel activists at a local AIPAC function. It was fitting that this gathering occurred on the first secular anniversary of Jon’s passing – it reminds us that important work must go on, life must go on, and that it it incumbent upon all of us to recognize both.

Below is the text of my comments delivered this morning.

Comments Delivered to Atlanta-Area AIPAC Breakfast Briefing on 12/7/08

My friends, I am glad to be here with you today, in a room full of pro-Israel activists who have taken time out of your busy lives to spend some time learning about and advancing the interests of pro-Israel politics in our nation. And even as we gather together, it is not lost on any of us that there is one dear friend that is not in the room with us today – our friend Jon Barkan.

One year ago today, we woke up to a world without Jon walking among us.  It was hard for us – it is hard for us – to fully reconcile the loss we all suffered, the loss his family suffered, the loss our community and Jon’s many communities suffered.  There is rarely a day when we don’t speak of our memories of Jon, and the ways he impacted all of us.  And never a day has passed where we haven’t felt diminished by the loss of his ability to do so much, to be so much, and to help so much.

Nevertheless, we have soldiered on with the memory and the legend of Jon in our hearts and minds.  And we have soldiered on in a world that, in many ways, has changed around us.  We have a new US administration and new elections in Israel. We face new economic challenges and new and increasing challenges in the international arenas.

However, there is much about our world that has remained the same. There is still a need to recognize that Israel has numerous enemies that pose serious threats to its safety and its very existence. There is still a need for a strong US/Israel alliance, with substantial economic, diplomatic and military ties.

There is still a need for a room full of pro-Israel activists to gather to learn about ways to support pro-Israel policies and the elected officials that establish those policies.

So in the days following Jon Barkan’s death, many of us recognized that perhaps one of the best ways to honor our friend – a friend who was an enormous pro-Israel advocate, was to inspire and recognize other pro-Israel advocates to do what Jon did – work tirelessly to strengthen the bonds between our two nations.

Through the generosity of several individuals and families, including many in this room, the Jon Barkan Israel Advocacy Award was established.  The award shall be given annually to an individual living in the Atlanta, Georgia metropolitan area who is under the age of 40 and has demonstrated an extraordinary commitment to Israel by means of leadership, activism or involvement in organizations or activities that strengthen the bonds between Israel and Atlanta-area Jews.

Criteria for selection includes demonstration of significant leadership ability, level of passion and involvement in pro-Israel causes, and the potential for greater pro–Israel leadership responsibility in the future. Nominations will be solicited from across the Atlanta metropolitan area and the selection process will be administered by local professional and volunteer AIPAC leadership.

The annual recipient of the award shall be formally recognized at the annual Atlanta-area AIPAC Community Event and, along with a plaque commemorating the award, the recipient shall receive a $1,000 stipend to be used for attendance to the AIPAC Policy Conference (held annually in Washington D.C.) in the year in which the award is given.

To date, over $23,000 has been pledged to endow the fund. Contributions are tax-deductible, and to the extent any of you are doing year-end tax planning with respect charitable contributions, contributions can be made to the fund at any time for any reason. My wife Marci and I have done exactly that, and I invite you to join us in that honor of our friend.

The process for selecting the first award recipient is already underway and if you have any nominations, the professionals at AIPAC will soon be communicating with you the opportunity to share such nominations.  The recipient will be announced at the community event this spring.

When speaking of a righteous Jew who has passed from this world to the next we say – zichrono livracha – let his memory be a blessing.   May that be the case with our friend Jon Barkan, together let us remember on this day and each day that his memory is a blessing.  And let us ensure, with the Jon Barkan Israel Advocacy Award, that his legacy continues to be an inspiration to future generations of pro-Israel advocates.

Advocates just like you.

Thank you.

A Pause for Reflection in Memory of My Grandfather

For those of who who tune in here for my most recent thoughts on Jewish community, I hope you will forgive one post of personal reflection.  Seven days ago, my grandfather, Wilfred S. Cohen/Shalom ben Yosef HaKohen, was laid to rest in a small cemetery in  Rotterdam, New York.   Born in Brownsville, NY, my grandfather lived ninety-four years, sixty-eight of which he was married to my grandmother. He is survived by  her, four children, eight grandchildren,  four great-grandchildren, and countless memories, stories and pieces of wisdom.

He died in the same hospital in Schenectady, NY where I was born thirty-five years and one day prior, and his life, his love of family and his commitment to his community are examples for me and my children to follow all the days of our lives.  Even in celebrating a life well lived, it is is still difficult not to feel diminished by the loss of a family member and a friend. His life and his memory remind me that my community starts at home with my family, but hat it extends beyond d the door of my home as well.

Below is the hesped I delivered at his funeral.

A Hesped For My Grandfather
Wilfred S. Cohen/Shalom Ben Yosef HaKohen, Z”L
1914 – 2008
25 Cheshvan 5769 / November 23, 2008

At this time, and at this place, as family we feel both big and small. We feel big because we are reminded that as a family we are more than the sum of our parts, more than a collection of names and faces, but a community of individuals that span from east to west, from north to south.  We are more than our own small families of parents, children and grandchildren, we are also brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles and cousins too.  In this moment of remembrance of the life of our grandfather, we remember that we are part of a larger family as well, and that while a bit smaller today, our family is nevertheless big.

But individually, we feel small as well. We are diminished by the loss of a husband, a father a grandfather, a cousin and a friend. We are small in the face of a much larger understanding of life, and ultimately death.  We are dwarfed by the number of memories we all hold, the number of stories we share, the number of tales we tell.  In this moment of remembrance of Bill Cohen, we remember that while our family may be big, this passing of a man we love nevertheless makes us small.

In our home we sometimes play a game of big and small, in Hebrew  – gadol and katan. In the deepest biggest voice the girls say “GADOL” and in the sweetest smallest voice they say “katan” – it is a children’s game.

But today in this most adult of moments, as a grandson of Bill Cohen, I can’t help but think only gadol.  And when I think of my grandfather, it is hard to imagine that there could be a man who could better fit the term gadol.  He was big in our lives, big in his pride of his family, big in his opinions and big in his love.

As a Cohen, he also merited the name and recognition as a Kohen, a man of priestly status – and in our family he was truly the Kohen Gadol – the Big Cohen.

While thinking of our grandfather as the Kohen Gadol of our family, we cannot help but think more about the qualities in the man we loved and the soul we remember.  In biblical times, the Kohen Gadol was a man of special honor, of priestly nature and of service to his community.  He wore robes befitting a man of his status, and nothing of his attire was more brilliant than the breastplate, the Hoshen, on his chest.

In the days of his life, our grandfather also wore such a brilliant badge of honor that, in more ways than one, reflected the brilliance of his life and the illumination on his family.

It is written that the breastplate of the Kohen Gadol, which was made in accordance with very specific instructions, had four rows of gems, three gems in each row, making twelve different gems stones total.

Four rows, twelve gems.

Grandpa Bill and Grandma Fran had four children – four rows of gems in their lives. Laura, my father Jay, Marilyn and Bobbi – each a unique and precious gem. And each of those gems begot others, sons and daughter in-laws that were loved like they were and are their own children. Grandchildren and great-grandchildren were in those lines of gems, gems that Grandpa Bill wore proudly on his chest all the days of his life.

But the number 12 holds an important meaning as well, and held an important meaning to Grandpa. Eight Grandchildren and Four great-grandchildren – those gems were also twelve gems that illuminated the Hoshen of our Kohen Gadol.  Jen and David, Eric and Seth, Julie and Adam, Marissa and Michael, Matthew, Morgan, Danielle and Jordan. They were more than names to Grandpa Bill, they were the gems that he kept, along with Grandma Fran, closes to his heart.  Twelve gems on a breastplate of honor.

And how he kept them close.  Until our grandparents moved to Florida fulltime, there was the twice a year “trek of the Cohens”  –  a journey from North to South, visiting each of the children and grandchildren along the way.  The trip from Willsboro to Florida was more than just a trip, if was a journey of family, stopping to talk, to share, and to watch some CNN.  But even in remembering those trips, there was much more than just dinners and cable news. In fact there was always a different kind of CNN – the Cohen News Network, that stopped in each of our homes, reminding us of our links to one another, the stories of our families, and the events in the lives of those we loved. When our grandparents came on those trips they brought more than pies south and oranges north, they brought their love and their lessons. While they may have been passing through on their travels, in the travel of Grandpa’s life, his children and grandchildren weren’t drive-bys, they were permanent points of pride.

We can all remember so many memories, up at camp, on the boat, at the Point, in town, in Florida, in our homes and in our lives. We can remember countless stories of the penny arcades, of the northern New York towns, the Village Bazaar and the bizarreness of south Florida. And even if we can’t remember all the names of our second and third cousins, we remember the names of the people who made an impact on his life, Mr. Paine, the neighbors at the camp, the friends in Florida, so many names.

We remember what he told us. How he told us he was proud, proud of us, proud of one another.  He set an example to us the way he loved Grandma, they way he felt concern for his children, the way he was respected in the communities that he lived in, the way he respected those communities by always giving back and being for them a leader.

My brother Eric, rightly, describes him as a noble man, a caring man, a community man and a family man. But even more than that, to us he was all of that and then some. He was a true Cohen Gadol.

One final story, perhaps not familiar to many of us.   It happened on Wednesday, May 5, 1954.  At the time The Village Bazaar was not even a thought – our grandfather was the manager of Pearl’s in Keeseville. It was the last night of John Prescott’s term as president of the Keeseville Chamber of Commerce, and new elections were to be held. But it was not the most simple of elections as John Prescott, the outgoing President, was discouraged by the attendance and the overall state of affairs of the Chamber. There was some debate whether an election of the officers was even appropriate.  However, after discussion, the consensus was that those who were interested in the matters of the Chamber had been present or otherwise accounted for, and therefore the election was appropriate.  Bill Cohen was elected without a dissenting vote and he was empowered to appoint his own secretary.

So here we are today, and rather than warmth of that spring day, we feel the chill of the onset of winter. We are gathered not to elect, but to remember the president of our special chamber, our Cohen Gadol.  His optimism was correct and foretelling.  In his discretion, he has appointed each of us his secretary, to be a scribe of the memories of his life, of the stories of our days with him, of the hopes he had for all of us.  Like every man, he is laid to rest in his most simple of attire, however, we should not forget the way he wore the brilliant Hashon, with its four rows of gems, and its twelve gems of life, representing his love for all of us.

May his memory be a blessing…. a blessing that is gadol, not katan.

Memo to the Federation File: The New (Human) Capital Campaign

During the past few months, one can rarely avoid a discussion of the impact of the ongoing economic challenges facing many Americans.  Avoiding such conversations is even more rare in the hallways of nonprofit organizations that depend on the generosity of their donors to provide critical financial resources to address a variety of compelling needs.  These organizations that often struggle for funds even when times are good now find themselves in a time of dramatically increased need even while many of their supporters are more hesitant about their individual ability to give generously. Notwithstanding data that indicates that generosity does not diminish (and often increases) in times of great need, it is nevertheless clear that in these belt-tightening days that many people, when reconciling the numbers of diminishing 401(k) returns and increasing 501(c)(3) appeals, just can’t make the math work.

So these are long days and nights for fundraising campaigns – calls to donors are as much about friend-raising as they are fundraising, for just as there are many individuals who may offer a bit more financial help, there are those who reveal that they are in a bit more financial need.  And along with the greater demands to find financial resources to help those in that seek it, there will soon be challenges to be faced in ways that we haven faced domestically in perhaps generations. How our communities meet those challenges, and how we allocate the resources necessary to help overcome them will be defining questions for community leaders in the months and perhaps years ahead.

So it might seem odd that I would suggest that at this time of immense challenge that we focus on an immense opportunity to commence a new type of national Jewish communal campaign – a capital campaign of sorts, a human capital campaign.

Yes, we must continue and expand important financial appeals in our Jewish communities to serve local, national and overseas needs (we should not forget that the crippling effects of the global slowdown that impacts us at home has tremendous impact on the needs of vulnerable and at-need Jews in places like the former Soviet Union).  But we need to expect that for many individuals who are struggling to cope with their own personal financial challenges, engaging in acts of Jewish philanthropy may be an option that, for the time-being, must be left untaken.  Whether helping shore up their parents’ financial needs, struggling with their own limited ability to maintain synagogue memberships, day school fees or JCC dues, many Jews who would nonetheless like to remain engaged in the community may feel financially shut out.  In the face of these economic limitations, they may feel like what they have to offer the community is diminished, and therefore their engagement in the community should diminish as well.

Nothing could be farther from the truth. And the leaders of the organized Jewish community need to make sure that not only does the false perception of these individuals manifest themselves in our communities, but that we proactively take measures to seize the opportunity offered by those who want to find alternative ways to give back to their community.

Now is the time for us to engage in discussions with those who want to give time rather than money and capture their energies in ways that help us collectively face the challenges that confront us. Sure, many of our most vaunted professional leaders and long-time volunteers may be able to put the current challenges into perspective, but the emerging viewpoints and ideas of new volunteers and leadership will help us define pathways to future achievement.  Individuals who long invested in the community by writing checks may now find that being engaged in a volunteer leadership role is equally fulfilling. And then as economic times improve and they can more generously give once again, our communities will benefit from both time and money.

Therefore, I think right now is the time, an important time, to engage in a discussion of how we embark on the great Jewish human capital campaign.  A campaign with realizable goals locally and nationally for engaging new volunteers, and new volunteer leadership.  A campaign that does not diminish the value of giving financially to philanthropic endeavors, but one that reinforces the value of investing personal time in the organizations that pursue those endeavors.

Now this campaign would not be without its challenges.  Like any great effort that brings in new individuals to organizations and movements there are always questions of ability to integrate the new volunteers leaders into existing roles, to create new roles and opportunities for personal investment and to provide volunteers/leaders high quality experiences that reinforce their desire to give their time to the community.  These volunteers and leaders must be powerfully engaged, educated and empowered to effect change in our communities and help create new avenues of Jewish experience.  And they should have some fun.

Equal to the systemic challenges with respect to the new volunteers/leaders we need to anticipate challenges for our professionals. Many of our senior professional leadership have grown up in systems (most notably the federation system) that have not achieved much-needed and dramatic reengineering of core strategies related to volunteer engagement. Figuring out new ways to engage leaders and new ways to synthesize their strengths into existing organizations is no small task. And as many have realized, Jewish communal organizations are not necessarily bastions of adaptability – recruiting substantial numbers of new volunteers/leaders will require many organizations (and their professionals) to be responsive to the new ideas, approaches, and technologies – each which may be at odds with decades of organizational experience/tradition.

This human capital campaign needs to start at the bottom and at the top. We need new faces at our most basic committee levels in our local communities, and as I have suggested previously, we need new ideas at the top of our local and national organizations.  The human capital campaign is not narrowly focused or easily satisfied.  It requires fundamental changes in the way we recruit engaged Jews and the way we govern organizations that are led by them. We need to challenge old assumptions and embrace new visions. Even those visions that require resources we might not be able to collect in the coming days, months and perhaps even years. Because by encouraging and allowing those visions to take root, we will be harnessing the passions of visionaries who create them.  And when the financial resources are there to transform those visions into realities, the human capital campaign will infuse new life into these financial campaigns as well.

Yes, we face challenging times. And yes, in these challenging times we tend to monitor our campaigns closely – aspiring, stretching and achieving those goals we must achieve to address the needs we face. But lets not be too cautious lest we lose this opportunity to engage in a great new capital campaign  – a human capital campaign that seeks to benefit from the greatest resource of all – the hearts and minds of the Jewish people.

Heal the Bay, Heal the World: In Memory of Dorothy Green

This essay is the first in an occasional series that will address Jewish life, the natural world, and those individuals and organizations that care about both. Special appreciation to my friend Carolyn Oppenheimer who was the first to remind me that we should not just about care about sustaining the Jewish people, but we should also give equal care to sustaining the world in which we all live.

While many of us are activists for various Jewish and non-Jewish causes, unless you live in Southern California or are familiar with the environmental efforts related to water quality issues, you might not know about the recent death of the Dorothy Green (1929-2008), a legendary environmental activist in the Los Angeles area.  Regardless of your personal passions and interests, however, a remembrance of Ms. Green’s life should give us all a reason to pause and reflect about the nature of Jewish leadership.

For those who are not familiar with Dorothy Green, no short summary can do her justice.  But nevertheless, her life can be partially described as follows:  by caring enough to help heal the Santa Monica Bay in southern California, she helped redefine an entire state’s approach to water policy and sustaining clean coastal waters. Prompted by her brother’s experience with sewage-polluted water in Marina del Rey, Green convened a group of like minded activists to create Heal the Bay, a tremendously impactful water quality initiative that is widely credited for redefining local and state policy related to the clean-up and preservation of the Santa Monica Bay.  In addition to Heal the Bay, Green started or assisted with the development of various other organizations related to water polices, as well as supported numerous other cause that were meaningful to her and her family. Even as she faced physical illness, she persevered, and in turn in, her longevity and devotion to her community and her causes have garnered her the reverence of multiple generations of local and national activists and policymakers.

Dorothy Green was Jewish, a daughter of Polish immigrants and a mother of Jewish children, and she credited the Jewish tradition in shaping her active community involvement. But in an era where we often try to categorize Jewish experiences in terms of involvement in Jewish organizations and contributions to Jewish charities, it is easy to lose sight that perhaps the most core Jewish value is the recognition of the power of partnerships to change the world. Whether it is a spiritual partnership, a social partnership or a partnership spawned out of the mutual desire to manifest acts of loving kindness, the recognition of the need for such partnerships and the drive to create them is fundamentally Jewish in nature.

First with her efforts related to Heal the Bay, and then in her other endeavors, Dorothy Green did exactly that – she created powerful partnerships that helped heal part of the world that mattered most to her.  By doing so she actualized a partnership that exists on a more profound level – mankind’s role in a partnership with respect to the sustenance and preservation of  all that is natural in creation. And even though Heal the Bay doesn’t have the word “Jewish” in it doesn’t in any way diminish the Jewishness of her efforts or the mission of the organization she created.  Jewish leadership manifests itself in many ways outside the crisp categories that oftentimes seem to define our conventional understanding of Jewish leaders.  And Dorothy Green is an example of that kind of uncategorizable leadership, raised in the Jewish tradition, and manifesting those lessons to make a Jewish impact.

So, as with every death, we should stop and take pause to reflect on the lessons of the life that has been lived, Jewishly or otherwise. And in those lessons we might find inspiration for us to pursue those causes that we recognize as just, regardless of whether the fit neatly into categories of existing Jewish opportunity. There are numerous organizations that are inherently and explicitly Jewish, and many times we can influence those organizations to meet the challenges we identify individually or collectively. But other times we need to start from scratch – creating new partnerships to achieve common goals. And helping bind those partnerships together may be the common Jewish values we share and the universal values all of mankind should share. The kind of values Dorothy Green demonstrated in her lifetime.

With apologies to the television show “Heroes,” the life of Dorothy Green reminds us that rather than a mission to “save the cheerleader, save the world,” a more fitting mantra for aspiring heroes might be “Heal the Bay, heal the world.”   That is what Dorothy Green did – and fittingly she should be remembered as a true Jewish hero.

Star (of David) bursts: On the “Bursty” Nature of Jewish Engagement

Bursty. It’s a term I have started to use over the past several months when attempting to describe the nature of Jewish engagement.  Borrowed from the technical understanding of network theory, “burstyness” occurs in structured networks when the network experience a “burst” of activity, either as the result of intentional stimuli or because of the natural behavior of the network. The exploration of burst activity in connection with computer networks is an area that has received increased focus as our world has become more and more network-oriented.  Additionally, it has even taken on more innovative usage when characterizing the nature of workforce productivity.

My use of the term however relates to my concern for something far older than current network technologies – the Jewish people. The more time I spend in my local Jewish community and with my engaged and not-so-engaged Jewish friends, the more I recognize the ebbs and flows of their Jewish engagement.  While there are some friends who have consistent patterns of Jewish experience, many others seem to be engaged in bursts of Jewish activity. These bursts may participation in a single event, observation of a particular holiday, or association with a particular cause that they care about for Jewish reasons (even if the cause isn’t distinctly Jewish).  Sometimes they go through periods of time where they engage in several Jewish activities – only to then disappear from the community radar for an equal if not longer time. And while sometimes the burst of activity is driven by individual growth and opportunism, many times the engagement is more inspired by habit, fear, guilt or social pressure and acculturation.

Take the recent high holidays for example. There are many Jews whose familiarity with the rhythm of synagogue life is based on three days a year (for many it may even be only two). Shabbats, daily services and other holiday celebrations come and go, but the amount of time that many individuals spend in and around the synagogue barely registers on the dial. But on the high holidays, the activity is off the chart.  People who don’t make it to one Shabbat service a year get there hours early (early!) for Kol Nidre.  People who rarely peruse the synagogue bulletin, read every word of the service schedule and parking instructions (and of course the babysitting forms) twice (or three times!) to make sure nothing is missed.  The opportunities for spiritual experience can be found inside the synagogue (and outside as well) all year round – the network is always there, but on these few days, the burst of activity nearly overloads the system.

And the same occurrence happens in less Jewish religious experiences as well. Many people who have never thought of joining the JCC also never fail to miss the JCC community festival. And even those Jews who spend time in the Jewish community living and learning on a more consistent basis create their own times when their Jewish lives slow down or speed up – taking the summers “off” from the Jewish engagement and then bursting back into their Jewish lives as the first leaves fall in autumn.

Without surveying the vast landscape of literature on the state of modern Jewry, it is easy to recognize that the “Jew within” as described by Cohen and Eisen continues to redefine Jewish behavior across the spectrum of Jewish life. And while there are plenty of studies that review patterns of Jewish association and engagement, I have found that many of them fail to make the final reduction of theory into what is increasingly obvious – Jewish life in 2009 is not only made of the “sovereign Jew” choosing experiences and investing time and money in independent manners, but those experiences and investments are increasingly coming the form of discontinuous bursts. These bursts manifest themselves episodically over the course of Jewish lives, but also on a much short timeframes; bursts of Jewish engagement may cycle in the matter of weeks or months.  Taken together, these patterns of bursts of engagement give flavor to the burstyness of Jewish life as a whole.

And I don’t believe that as organizations, communities and as a broader people we have sufficiently adapted the opportunities for Jewish engagement to be responsive to this developing landscape of Jewish burstyness. As professionals and as volunteers we need to do so – much faster than we have to date. And our response can’t be bursty – it needs to be strong and consistent.

I will leave it to the much more thoughtful Jewish thinkers and academics to explain in more artful terms the nature of Jewish burstyness. But I think the imperative is simple enough – we need to develop Jewish experiences that create more and longer sustaining bursts of Jewish engagement. Birthright is one example of a large-scale systemic approach to developing one particular burst of Jewish experience and one correlative impact – a bursty experience of Israel is intended to create a lifetime of affinity for Israel. Without exploring the merits or results of that approach, one thing is clear – there is a burst of activity.  How we sustain that burst is another matter altogether, and as more and more communities focus on developing “post-Birthright programming” what they are beginning to find out is that when you start with a high quality, high-energy burst, the follow-up opportunities for subsequent burst need to be equally attractive and inspiring. If not, that initial burst may turn out to be… well … a bust.

So the question we should then ask, must ask, of our existing Jewish infrastructure is this: Are we designing and implementing opportunities for Jewish experience that are responsive to the bursty nature of modern Jews?  Similarly, are we coordinating the opportunities for bursts of Jewish activity in a way that help increase the number of bursts, sustain their lengthen and increase their magnitude?  These questions are questions that can be reduced to a more granular set of questions for each organization and initiative. For example, when planning a multi-part education/social/philanthropic initiative, is the programming responsive to the bursty nature of the target audience? Does its time commitment parameters exceed the typical length of burst that the target audience considers “available engagement time” for the offered experience? What is the follow-up plan for the burst, and when is the next burst opportunity?  If the answers to these questions aren’t known, or aren’t even considered, than it is likely that the potential of that specific opportunity to develop and magnify the number of Jewish bursts will be limited.

So back to network theory  - most network developers would tell you that a high functioning network is less bursty and more regular in its performance.  The network should be used in an optimal manner with a high level of activity so that bursts are irregular, not the norm. 

However, the Jewish network is a bit different… in an era where the level of engagement is inconsistent, and where we seek to encourage a high level of activity, bursts of activity and results in the “Jewish engagement network” are signs of what works, and perhaps what doesn’t. Understanding what makes Jews bursty will ultimately strengthen the future of one of the most important networks of all – the Jewish people.

The Fill-up and the Top-off (of Jewish Fuel Tanks)

Writing this post from the West Coast, my mind is still thinking of things back east – my family, my friends, and my gas shortage.

Wait – my gas shortage?

Yes, for those who have not heard, Atlanta is in the midst of a terrible gas shortage, the lingering consequences of the one-two punch of Hurricanes Gustav and Ike on the Gulf Coast refinery operations. For almost two weeks Atlanta has been suffering though a gas shortage, the like of which that hasn’t been seen since the Carter administration – empty tanks, long lines and rising frustrations.  The other evening on our way home from Rosh Hashana dinner my wife and I drove around for 45 minutes looking for a gas station that was (1) open and (2) had a line less then thirty cars deep. Suffice it to say after passing over twenty gas stations we finally gave up (and less an 1/8 of a tank of gas for our effort).

Now there are several reasons why the gas shortage has continued, and much of it has to do with the hurricane-induced shortage of gasoline deliveries to service stations.  Of course there is also the overarching addiction that our country (and commuter-filled Atlanta) has to automobiles and the gasoline that powers them. But what I find equally if not more frustrating is the fact that the magnitude of the shortage has been increased by the behavior of so many motorists who ceaselessly stop to “top-off” their tanks to make sure that their tank is never less than full. Even if they don’t have the necessity to fill-up, many drivers – motivated by fear – are nonetheless exacerbating the shortage by constantly diminishing the supplies as soon as they arrive by “topping-off” their tank. Now for many drivers who use their vehicles all day to perform their jobs, a full tank is a legitimate concern. But for many others it is not. And this irrational demand takes a substantial toll on the limited supply and exacerbates the shortage.

So, while I was waiting in line the other day to fill up my tank, and now again as I write this post, I can’t help but compare and contrast the way drivers in Atlanta are dealing with filling up their gas tanks with the way so many Jews fill up (or don’t fill up) their personal “Jewish” tanks.

Think of each Jew as a vehicle on a Jewish journey and his/her neshema, or soul, is the tank where they store their Jewish fuel. No less than the gasoline we put in our cars, the Jewish moments of learning, caring, creating and praying fuel those Jewish journeyers onward on their chosen paths. There are plenty of ‘service stations’ along those journeys, and there are different types of experiences that serve as that Jewish fuel. Some are high-octane and some are regular. Some stations are cheaper than others, and some have better customer service. We pass them everyday (or at least have the opportunity to pass them) and sometimes we stop in to top-off our tanks, and sometimes we don’t.  Just like a few of us do with our cars, some of us drive around with our Jewish neshemot on almost empty, and some of us make sure our tanks are always filled.

But in thinking about the gasoline shortage back in Atlanta, what I am wondering is what will it take to create an environment where, just like the gas stations in Atlanta, Jews are willing to wait in line to fill-up and top-off their Jewish experiences. What would it take to motivate those individuals to seek out those Jewish moments with a craving and exasperation they express when seeking ever-so-scarce gasoline?   What kind of Jewish experiences will it take, what kind of Jewish community must we build, to inspire a sense of urgency to fill our Jewish tanks every chance we get?

As I noted above, certainly one thing the Jewish community as a whole should be mindful of is to create a Jewish infrastructure that supports ‘alternative’ approaches of Jewish experience. Much like the mantra of alternative fuels for our automobiles, we should not be too dependent on any one kind of Jewish experience, because when the quality is diminished or there is difficulty in accessing a particular experience, sometimes people just… well… run out.  Instead we need to encourage alternative approaches to providing people the Jewish fuel to fill up their neshema.  Then, in embracing these new approaches, they might find it easier to fill-up and top off, and have a greater desire to do so.

We also must continue to innovate new ideas and new ways to deliver the existing approaches to Jewish experience. Not all that is old is bad (just like not all that is new is good), and we should be mindful that as much as we need to reimagine new experiences, we also need to refine aspects of traditional experiences. Refine them in ways that create demand, not just panic, joy not frustration.

So back to thinking homeward… hopefully in a few days the gas shortage will end and we will be back to our normal ways of consuming fuel. But hopefully this momentary experience with our irrational demand for fossil fuel for our car engines will remind us of the need for our Jewish fuel used in very important engines… engines that take us into our individual and collective Jewish futures.