The theme of this year’s keynote, as you all
know, is “Honoring the People's Author by Building
Communities.” Now, I don’t have much experience
with writing speeches, so I was at a bit of a loss for
the proper way to start off. I would have looked to
past years’ keynotes, but I’ll be the first
to admit that, like most of the teens and young adults,
while my body is almost always in attendance, my mind
is usually still asleep at this point of the conference
As I thought about the theme, the first idea that occurred
to me was to write about the community that exists at
the CSJO conference, and about all the good friends
I’ve made over the years. I thought about talking
about how each year I meet new people and pick up with
the old right where we left off the year before. About
how with each year the numbers wax and wane, different
issues are raised (along with many of the same), and
yet there’s always the sense of belonging as soon
as you walk in the door on Friday.
At the same time as I was thinking about the great
community that we’ve built here, I couldn’t
help but shake the notion that this speech should be
about something bigger. The more I thought about how
great the people and the atmosphere is at these conferences,
the more I came to realize that we have at our disposal
a great tool for building a better community outside
of these three days a year. That those of us in this
room (and those of us still asleep upstairs) have an
obligation, not only to ourselves, but to this community,
as Secular Humanistic Jews and simply as good people,
to strive to change our world for the better.
While I realize that this sounds idealistic, the more
I thought about it, the easier I realized it was. There
are the little things one can do on an everyday basis,
things to improve the environment like walking or biking
instead of driving, even brightening someone’s
day with a simple thank you or have a nice day. But
this isn’t enough; sometimes one has to move beyond
the little, easy things to those that require sacrifice
or courage. Even something that sounds as basic as standing
up for what you believe can be one of the most difficult
things one can do.
This fact was brought home to me quite clearly this
past week. As many of you know, I graduated this past
Sunday from Vassar College. In the school newspaper,
on the back page, which is the humor section of the
paper, a satire of the choice of Samuel L. Jackson was
presented. The issue was not that they chose to satire
Mr. Jackson, but rather that in doing so they utilized
language and imagery that feeds into the stereotype
of the African-American male as being violent and dangerous.
This caused offense to many in the community, in particular
a number of students of color, and we organized a meeting
to discuss the issue.
From these conversations, which included the authors
of the article, both white, we realized that prior to
our explaining it to them, they had not realized the
effect that their choice of language might have on people.
We realized that this was just the latest in a long
line of incidences regarding race that seem to come
up every year or so and yet nothing more is done than
talking about the issue until things die down. One must
understand that Vassar, though it has a reputation for
being a progressive, liberal institution, lags behind
on race and diversity. As a result of its lacking even
a minority recruitment program, there are usually no
more than 5 or 6 African-American males in most entering
freshman classes. The article was merely representative
of the willful ignorance and lack of diversity that
is fostered at the school.
We decided that we had had enough of talking the issue
to death and decided that we should organize a protest.
The problem was that this was the Friday night before
graduation on Sunday. Many of us that were graduating,
myself included, were afraid of the reactions that we
might receive from both the other graduating seniors
and the faculty, as well as the 1000 guests that would
be in attendance. We were worried that they would not
understand why we were protesting and be offended. Along
with the fear of a negative reaction from our peers,
our professors, and the general public, there was the
feeling that graduation should be a celebration and
that any action we might take would detract from that.
Because of these and other factors, it was a difficult
decision to go forward with organizing the protest.
After much discussion and internal debate, we decided
that irregardless of the repercussions, it was necessary
to speak out on what we saw as a great wrong, not only
at Vassar, but also within society as a whole. We committed
that no matter what people’s reactions might be
that we would stand up for what we knew in our hearts
to be right.
The next day was spent making as many armbands as we
could from the piles of clothes that students were throwing
away in preparation for moving out. We also decided
to draft a statement that we could hand out with the
armbands and circulate in order to inform people of
why we were protesting so that they wouldn’t dismiss
us out of hand. We explained that along with wearing
the armbands, we were standing in silence for a minute
after the president asked everyone to be seated and
then standing with our armbands in our fists for 15
seconds before sitting when we returned to our seats
after receiving our diplomas. We worked all day and
well into the night making the armbands and working
to get the language in the statement so that it was
satisfactory to all of us involved in the organizing
process.
The next day we handed armbands and statements out
to the senior class, the faculty, and those in attendance.
The response that we received was quite overwhelming;
around half and possibly even more of the senior class
were wearing the armbands, along with a large number
of the faculty and audience. Even more surprising was
the numbers who stood with us for the beginning of the
president’s address. As expected though, it was
only those of us who had been intimately involved in
the organizing process that stood with our fists raised,
but all in all, the protest was an overwhelming success.
From discussions with people afterwards, and when we
were handing things out, it was the first time that
many of the people there had realized that the problem
existed at Vassar. From this decision to stick up for
what we believed was right, we had managed to change
the way people looked at the situation at Vassar, and
perhaps I’m being idealistic, but I would like
to think that our actions have helped to begin the move
towards a solution to the problem. By taking action
to open people’s eyes to the fact that this was
an issue that needs to be addressed, I would hope that
I in some small way have worked to make the community
at Vassar a better place.
Sorry for have gone on talking about myself, but I
felt that it was the perfect example to illuminate my
point. Sometimes it is necessary to take risks in order
to follow what you believe to be right. It is this that
I am asking you to try to do, as I will continue to
strive to do, to stand up for your beliefs, to refuse
to sit idly by while others are oppressed, while your
rights or those of others are violated or removed. By
working to uphold the values that we share as Secular
Humanistic Jews, that of working for the betterment
of all beings, we can all work to build better communities
throughout our lives.
In closing, I would like to read to you a quotation
from Sholem Aleichem that I came across while deciding
what to write on:
“Life is a dream for the wise, a game for the
fool, a comedy for the rich, a tragedy for the poor.”
It is my hope that you will share the wisdom that all
of you have in order to help bring to reality the dream
that I know many of you share with me that we can make
a difference in this world, to change it for the better.
So I ask of you, never stop dreaming and working to
make those dreams come true, so that the day may come
when life is a tragedy for no one and a comedy for all.