Beyond Accessibilty

by Larry Kaufman
Member, RJ Blog Editorial Board

As regular readers of this blog know, the blog, and the Reform Movement, are currently focusing special attention on accessibility issues, and numerous posts have indicated that accessibility means more than ramps and grab bars and large-type siddurim – it also means hospitality and compassion and inclusiveness. 

February is a good month to have as wide-ranging a theme as we do, because it is one month in which we don’t have to devote any space to holiday observance.  We have Tu B’shvat behind us and Purim and then Passover ahead of us, but this month, nothing. Maybe that’s why nobody has paid enough attention to the calendar to be reminded that February is Black History Month. But a provocative “over-the-transom” submission to the blog has called it to our attention, and in fact, has juxtaposed the issue of how our congregations and their members relate to people of color with the issue of how we relate to people with disabilities.  

The anonymous author has presented a tale of personal history, unfortunately not in a way that meets the editorial standards of the blog, but still raising issues that need to be discussed in this forum devoted to all aspects of Reform Judaism. He and his partner are both converts to Judaism; in fact, their mutual attraction to Judaism is what brought them together, he a self-described mixed race Black man with a spinal cord injury that confines him to a wheelchair, she a blind Asian woman, living on a meager income in a small rural community 100 miles away from the nearest Jewish presence. But amid this array of tzuris (troubles), what the author finds the most hurtful is the failure of Jewish organizations, Jewish clergy, and the few rank-and-file Jews with whom they have come in contact to welcome them with open arms and unconditional acceptance.

“I told this story,” our correspondent says, “because making Jewish buildings accessible is a nice gesture.  Teaching people not to stare and offer a willing hand to a disabled person is thoughtful.  But what about the person trapped inside the body? Their disability might be color, or physical disability, or living so far below the poverty line that they are excluded from Jewish events…. Disability Awareness Month should mean more than just being made aware. The real question is, to what length are Rabbis and Congregants willing to [go to] …include all people, those with physical disabilities that can be seen and those whose disabilities may not be seen so easily?”

The author concludes with some concrete suggestions for bringing the disabled and disadvantaged closer to their Judaism and to the Jewish community:  transportation programs to bring isolated Jews into regular contact with urban Jewish communities, subsidized Israel trips for the disabled a la Birthright, grant programs to help the disabled help themselves out of poverty. But his key point: we don’t want your pity, we don’t want your awareness, we want your acceptance.  

In many of the “accessibility” posts this month, our writers have described communities and clergy who have risen to the occasion of supporting members with physical or mental impairments.  The tale of woe I have just presented reminds us of other conditions that present obstacles on the road to acceptance:  isolation, poverty, color, and just plain differentness. Can we generalize from this one example that, as the disabilities are compounded, acceptance becomes exponentially more difficult?  

As I so often do, I am posing questions and not providing answers.  I ask you to answer for yourself and your congregation how you measure up on the inclusiveness scale, not only with people suffering from one of the aforementioned disabilities, but especially as they compound.  Think not only of your institutional responses, but of your individual responsiveness as well.   

These are good questions, not just because it’s Black History Month, or Disability Awareness Month, or Poverty Mitigation Month, but because it is part of our year-round fulfillment of what it means to be a Reform Jew.  How do you, and your congregation, measure up?