Reflections from Rabbi Avrin on teen trip to the South

Wow. Wow. Wow.

Ali King, our Bet Shalom Religious School Director, and I just returned from a weekend of travel with eight teens from our synagogue.  We started the trip in New Orleans and then made our way to Selma and Montgomery, and then back to New Orleans to head back home. It was a lot of driving for one weekend but worth every minute.  The group we went with was made up of 2 sophomores, 5 juniors, and 1 senior.  6 of them have been studying together all year through a racial justice elective we offered in our religious school, and the other 2 just joined us for the trip.  The experience we had together was transformational and one I hope every single American will consider at some point in their lifetime.

We arrived in New Orleans mid-day on Friday and after a traditional southern lunch on Bourbon street, we did a full afternoon walking tour of the French Quarter, that we learned actually had greater Spanish and African influence than French.  The tour was called a “Hidden History Tour” and the goal of the tour was to tell the story of New Orleans through the eyes of the oppressed instead of the oppressor, as we are accustomed to hearing.  We learned about the current effort being made to reclaim the history of black people who were brought to this city as slaves, who were beaten, sold, separated from their families, abused, and killed.  Our tour guide, Leon, walked us by significant areas of the city, we explored monuments, statues, buildings that housed slave auctions, the Catholic church that sponsored them, and on and on. We looked at primary sources and heard the stories of those who lost their lives, those who stood up to power, and how those in power orchestrated it all behind the scenes.  It was a different way of seeing a new city, the contrast of life and death, joy and pain.  It was hot, we were getting dehydrated and sunburned, but we didn’t want it to end. It was such a powerful way to begin our trip.  In the evening we drove to Tulane Hillel and on the way were able to see a number of different neighborhoods of the city… some poor, some wealthy, and then a classic college town.  It was the perfect way to unwind, rest, and welcome Shabbat with a warm and welcoming community.

In the evening we drove through our very first Bayou to the city of Slidell to give us a head start on our journey the next day.  We woke up bright and early to head to Selma, noting the drastically different landscape of Mississippi than we are used to in Minnesota. We entered the state of Alabama, not once, but twice, because I mistakenly drove in the left lane the first time and at the last second a large truck sped up and obscured our view of the “Welcome to Sweet Home Alabama” sign that was being carefully scripted to be on video as the words “Sweet home Alabama” played over the van speakers.  It was a complete bust so we got off at the first Alabama exit, turned around, and gave it a second go.  

We arrived in Selma and were immediately horrified to see the damage from the Tornado that devastated the city last month.  It was awful.  We happened by an old synagogue, Temple Mishkan Israel, and walked around the beautiful building, learning the history of a Jewish community that was once vibrant and is now so incredibly small. 

We got to the foot of the Edmund Pettus bridge and met our tour guide, Terry, who was the son of J.L. Chestnut Jr, Martin Luther King Jr’s attorney.  Terry was 6 years old on March 7th, 1965, and was with his father on the day that later became known as Bloody Sunday, the first attempt to march from Selma to Montgomery for voting rights that ended in bloodshed and horror. 

Terry spent over 3 hours with us, walking with us across the iconic bridge and then all around the city of Selma. Terry taught through personal stories, and everywhere we went, people said hi to him, and to us.  He was a local celebrity and so proud of his father. As we learned about the historical significance of the city, we also saw personal photographs, learned anecdotes about Martin Luther King Jr, about the many individuals who lost their lives, about John Lewis and his extraordinary impact.  We saw a beaten down city, we saw an old plantation turned event venue. We saw a cemetery where confederate soldiers are buried, that had confederate flags all over, erected recently by the “daughters of the confederacy.”  We couldn’t believe it.. but also we could. 

As we prayed with our feet that afternoon, we saw the bravery and the determination of a generation on whose shoulders we stand, and who we owe so much more than we are currently giving to fulfill the dream that they worked so hard to initiate. 

We left Selma and made our way to Montgomery in 45 minutes, a route that took marchers 4 days to complete back in 1965. When we arrived in Montgomery we visited the Civil Rights Memorial Museum and took in the power of the culmination of the journey we started earlier in the day.  That evening we did a walking tour of the city, seeing the place where Rosa Parks boarded the bus where she refused to give up her seat. We saw the Dexter Avenue Church where Martin Luther King Jr worked for many years, organizing the bus boycott and orchestrating pivotal events of the Civil Rights movement.  We sat in reflection and discussion on the steps of the Capitol, reflecting on the experiences we have had, all while watching hundreds of teens gather and take photos for prom. We were welcomed with kindness every place we went, hospitality that stands in stark contrast to the “Minnesota Nice” we are used to. We called it a night, some of us (the adults) earlier than others, in preparation for our final day.

Sunday morning we visited the Legacy Museum in Montgomery. It was up there as one of the most impactful museums I’ve ever visited.  The museum told the story of black people in America from “enslavement to mass incarceration” in a way that touched emotions and challenged our minds. It started with the story of the mass deportation of African people to the Americas in the 1500s. The visual story-telling was done through the use of personal testimonials told through video, technologically advanced graphs, visual art, photography, sculpture, and endless primary sources.  There was a room that was a recreated jail cell where you could meet individuals who were sold during the slave trade.  There was a phone booth where you could look into the eyes of a person who was wrongfully convicted and serving life in jail with no option for parole.  It was devastating and heartbreaking.

I found myself over and over again grappling with the dehumanization of an entire people and wondering how in the world it was possible for humans to see and treat other humans in such inhumane ways. I consistently found myself questioning how humans can be so incredibly cruel.  What astonishes me the most, in some ways, is that though we have certainly come a long way since the mass deportation of black people in the 1500s, we, as a country, are still so shockingly racist.  Racist in our policies and practices that allow for mass incarceration, police brutality, and the suffering so many face living in poverty. How is it possible that we go about our days and so regularly just look the other way to the inequality, suffering, and injustice in our country?

This week’s Torah portion is Acharei Mot-Kedoshim.  It’s a double portion that includes the explanation of the scapegoat that took on the sins of the people, as well an entire chapter on the idea of holiness and what we can do in our lives in order to become a sacred people.  These two concepts, scapegoating and holiness, are on opposite ends of the spectrum of humanity.  The one side represents the worst of humanity, the way we take our own faults and rationalize them away by convincing ourselves that our own shortcomings are somebody else’s fault.  It represents the way the human mind is somehow able to act with cruelty or sit by and watch as others are treated as objects instead of as humans.  On the other end of the spectrum, is the concept of holiness, the best of humanity.  The ability we have as humans to look into another person’s eyes and see the beauty of their soul.  It represents the power we have to stand up in astounding acts of bravery, putting our own lives at risk in order to save a stranger. It represents love, hope, and kindness.  

This weekend we saw both ends of the spectrum presented in this week’s Torah portion. We saw the cruelty and the beauty, the suffering and the generosity.  As Jewish Americans, this story is also our story.  It is all of our stories and a story we need to know more about in order to move forward as a minority in this country.  Time and time again, we learned about some of the overlapping narratives of Jewish Americans from the time of slavery through today.  There is never one story of one people.  There are layers upon layers of narrative that intersect in various ways and the more we learn, the more connections we discover.

I believe so deeply in the power and importance of these types of trips.  The learning that is done in one weekend in an immersive environment can have a greater impact than an entire year of classroom learning.  Beyond that, the bonds and relationships formed through travel do not compare to anything else.  Traveling in a 15 seater van, staying up too late, waking up too early… the silliness, joy, food adventures, and jokes. It all contributes to a sense of bonding through shared experience, some intense, some light.. all together.  My hope in sharing these words and these photos is to bring just a taste of what we experienced to our broader community… to inspire continued learning about our past and engagement in the issues still that continue to impact our country… and to encourage others considering this type of immersive educational experience to take the leap.  I assure you it will be worth it.