By Kathy Ruiz Goldenkranz

I am a Mexican American and a Jew by Choice. My extended family, both my mom and dad’s families, were all Central Valley farm workers. At the age of 14 I worked for the United Farm Workers, setting up and participating in corporate grocery store chain picket lines. As a high school student I marched in the streets of Modesto against the Gallo Wine company’s practice of hiring nonunion labor at below the union wage to work in the grapevine fields in deplorable conditions.

That same year, 1972, I wrote a letter to then California Assembly Speaker Leo McCarthy, who was authoring a bill to make it illegal for companies to hire children under 14 to work in the fields. I knew this issue well because starting at age of seven I’d been cutting grapes from the vines outside Fresno, working eight hours a day in the hot sun and earning about $3 a week. As a result of my letter, I was invited to testify in Sacramento, and I am proud to say that the bill passed.

That experience transformed me. I have been an activist ever since.

I am an union organizer in the building trades, board member of a community dental clinic providing excellent care for low- and moderate-income people without insurance or on assistance, and founder and chair of an interfaith coalition which promotes full GLBT inclusion within houses of worship in our neighborhood.

In addition, through my temple I co-chair the healthcare team that is part of Communities Organized for Relational Power in Action, a 25-member faith-based community organizing group that advocates for justice and fairness in healthcare, immigration, public safety, education, affordable housing, and economic justice. This issue is deeply personal: I am one of 22,000 women in America who is a victim of a faulty jaw joint implant that was untested yet approved by the FDA, and which has cost me upwards of $25,000 a year for the last 17 years.

When I teach community organizing, I like to tell the story in Parashat Yitro (Exodus 18:1–27). Burdened by his workload, Moses has sent his wife and children to live with her father, Jethro, who is a Midianite priest. At the Israelites’ camp Moses holds court in his tent for many hours each day to hear and decide upon the disputes of the Israelites, one by one. 

After a while, Jethro comes to see Moses; he wants Moses to be reunited with his family. Seeing the long line of people waiting for Moses, Jethro knows that his son-in-law cannot continue to live like this. He advises Moses to establish a leadership council within each tribe to hear and handle individual grievances, except for the most extreme cases. Moses follows Jethro’s advice.

This parashah teaches two lessons: First we can benefit from the insights and ideas of people from other faiths. No person can or should try to handle all matters alone. Instead, he or she should empower others to share in the workload—it’s through teamwork that we create a just society. Second, family comes first, followed by the needs and concerns of others. Once the tribal leadership subgroups were created, Moses’ family could return home and be with him once again.

To be most effective we need balance in our lives. When I prepare my 7th grade temple school students for becoming b’nai mitzvah, I always tell them that doing their own social justice work will add to the joy of this milestone, creating a balance between  being the center of attention/receiver of gifts and helping others in the community.

This is how we perform God’s work on Planet Earth.

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