Why I ‘act to stop the hemorrhaging’
Images of the 1963 March on Washington are seared into my memory. Peter, Paul and Mary sing into the microphones with the Washington Monument as their backdrop. Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. shares his dream with the massive crowd.
I hear their voices and sense the heat, the humidity, and the weight of history on that day. Above all, I feel a pang of regret that I was not there to be a part of it.
I had a good excuse: I was only eight at the time. Still, I have lived with that regret for over 40 years. Other opportunities to stand with the masses on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., for other causes have somehow eluded me as well.
This time, as organizers prepared for a massive Save Darfur rally on April 30, the issue was too compelling, the timing too perfect, the excuses too weak not to go. And so I went.
Often I have been only vaguely aware or felt too impotent to take any meaningful action in response to various tragedies occurring in remote parts of the planet.
In my adult lifetime, there have been a number of genocides of which I was somewhat conscious, but did nothing about: The Hutu massacre of the Tutsis in Rwanda is among them.
Sometime in the past year, I watched the film “Hotel Rwanda.” It was after viewing that movie and feeling the accompanying guilt — that something so horrible could have happened only a few years ago, and I was more or less oblivious — that I resolved to do more about the genocide in Darfur.
“Doing more” has taken many forms, including reading, writing checks, offering study sessions, sermons and action steps in my congregation, joining our synagogue’s social action committee in meeting with U.S. Rep. Paul Ryan, helping to form the Darfur Action Coalition Wisconsin, etc.
But when I heard about the rally in Washington, I knew that I had to take one more step. I needed to stand shoulder to shoulder with others who are as troubled about this human tragedy as I am.
For me, the most significant aspects of the rally were: listening to eye-witness accounts of those who have escaped from or visited Darfur; putting a face on the people who have driven the advocacy on this issue (Ruth Messinger of the American Jewish World Service, primary among them); feeling like my voice really was being heard; gaining inspiration from those who use their fame to try to make someone else’s life better; shepping nachas at the impressive showing of the Reform movement at the rally (clearly one of the largest groups there); and being buoyed by the presence of thousands of young people, including one of my own Confirmation students.
As I look back on Aug. 28, 1963, and see in it a turning point for the civil rights movement, I pray that Sunday’s rally will be viewed as having turned the tide for Darfur.
But even if that is not the case, the lessons I learned at the rally will always be part of me and will play a strong role in determining how I respond in the future to human beings in need.
In the words of this week’s Torah portion, Aharei Mot-Kedoshim, never again will I “…stand idly by while (my) neighbor bleeds” (Lev 19:16). Instead, I will stand with others of like mind and act to stop the hemorrhaging.
Rabbi Dena A. Feingold is spiritual leader of Congregation Beth Hillel Temple in Kenosha.
In silence no more
By Carol Platt
Special to The Chronicle
I suspect that Sunday, April 30, 2006, will live on in my mind for decades to come. I don’t know what I expected before I arrived, but the Save Darfur rally in Washington, D.C., was little like I imagined.
The crowd’s size and enthusiasm amazed me; the speakers inspired me. I felt as though I was participating in something huge and important for possibly the first time in my life.
I first heard about the Sudanese conflict last summer and the atrocities committed in Darfur horrified me. I wanted to do what I could to help the people of the Darfur region and raise awareness at home.
When my congregation’s rabbi, Dena A. Feingold, asked if I wanted to go with her to the rally, I jumped at the chance. Though my views about the genocide were strong prior to the rally, my attendance in D.C. reinforced my beliefs.
I now plan to work with the Key Club at my school and organize students to send postcards to President George W. Bush. I also intend to put posters up around the school to educate those who do not know about Darfur.
At the rally, many speakers declared that the world’s silence was as harmful as the genocide. This sentiment deeply moved me; I strongly agree that by standing in silence, the international community is helping those murdering innocents in the Darfur region.
The rally, however, was no expression of quiet remorse; it was a group of people raising their voices as one to protest something wrong, something horrible. And I was proud to be there. It was truly the experience of a lifetime.
Carol Platt is a sophomore at The Prairie School in Racine. She is 15 years old and a member of Congregation Beth Hillel Temple in Kenosha, where she teaches Sunday school and aids in Hebrew school.
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