Corps members live communally in their Jefferson Avenue house uptown
Purim Masks
Corps members prepare for Purim celebrations by creating masks
Planting trees in Central City
Rachel Glicksman works with residents to beautify the neighborhood
Celebrating Chanukah
Corps members welcomed coworkers and community members to their home
Learning about Bayou Bienvenue
Alum David Eber teaches the group about deforestation in the cypress swamps
Highlighting the Jewish Community's Involvement in Rebuilding New Orleans
This site is hosted by AVODAH: The Jewish Service Corps, which launched its New Orleans program in the fall of 2008. AVODAH engages young people in direct work on the causes and effects of poverty in the United States. This work partners Corps members with service providers and residents in low income communities and equips our Corps members and alumni to emerge as lifelong agents for social change, whose work for justice is rooted in and nourished by Jewish values.
Over the past few weeks I’ve felt excited, nervous, joyous, scared, passionate, confused, ambitious, courageous… sometimes all in the same day and sometimes all in the same hour! It’s such an incredible city with so much to explore and so much that prompts self-exploration. I am tested daily on how I react to different situations, which I think is an incredible opportunity.
Jordan updating the Community Events board at the New Orleans Women's Shelter
My experience at the women’s shelter has been so many things. I love it here! I am the Employment Program Coordinator and have been leading group and individual workshops on resume writing, collecting lists of transferable skills, cover letter writing, mock interviews and job search strategies. It’s been an amazing opportunity to get to know the residents and some of their stories, motivations and hurdles. This shelter is a transitional shelter, so there is no cap on how long residents can stay. There are fewer than 20 residents, which poses obvious conflict for me. I field about 25 calls a day from women and girls seeking immediate shelter and I have to refer them to other shelters or complete screening forms to add them to the waitlist. I constantly struggle with the pros and cons of different types of shelters. Is it best to have an overnight shelter that sleeps 150 people so that fewer people are sleeping under freeways at night? Or is it better to have a transitional shelter that creates a space for women to empower themselves through case management, employment programs, and parenting classes so that they can live outside of the shelter sustainably? A few weeks ago I attended a Domestic Violence conference and in one of the workshops we watched a documentary on women who have been incarcerated and are on life sentence for killing abusive partners in self defense. One woman explained how she was asked, “why didn’t you just leave?” She explained how she had filed over 45 police reports, but all the cops were friends with her husband; she called the one shelter in the area, but they were full; she had nowhere to go. When she tried to leave, she ended up sleeping in her car with her children and then returning back to the house. This made me livid and sad that I could be one of those people on the other line at a shelter telling a person there was no room.
For the last four years, most of my food advocacy has been on a college campus. I worked in my community. I had a stake in the aesthetics, the educational priorities, the social and environmental footprint, and, of course, the food itself. No one questioned if I had a right to be there, voicing my opinions and fighting for my views.
Then I graduated, moved to a new town, and began to work as a community outreach coordinator for a community health clinic. Community outreach coordinator. I remember trying on the title, wondering, What does that even mean? I imagined myself as a sort of translator, making sure that people involved at every level of the clinic could actually have their voices heard. It made a pretty picture in my mind. Translators, though, cannot add their own ideas and opinions. As part of a progressive clinic, whose patients also suffer at higher levels than average of chronic diseases like diabetes, hypertension, and high cholesterol, how could I work to advocate for better access to safe, healthy, but still convenient foods? What if the people I was “translating” or “interpreting” for had other priorities? Suddenly, I was struggling with my role, my place as an advocate in a neighborhood that was not mine.
I am excited to report that on a recent Friday evening, we held the first meeting of the NOLA minyan, an egalitarian, independent Kabbalat Shabbat service and potluck dinner that will be happening on a monthly basis. This event was the brainchild of a young group of us “imported do-gooders” (AVODAH and beyond) who have detected a need in our Uptown neighborhood for a prayer experience that lays somewhere on the Jewish spectrum in between a reform temple and Chabad, since currently those are our sole local options. While there are two wonderful synagogues with fantastic leadership in Metairie, a nearby suburb, many of us have been seeking a traditional Jewish space sensitive to the needs of a wide range of people that does not separate us from where and with whom we live. This minyan is our opportunity to bring that space to life and to try and build a fantastic, unique community around it.
For the past two months, the organization I work with, Jericho Road, has been hosting “Community Dinners” for members of the neighborhood to come together, share a meal, receive some sort of training and discuss events going on in the neighborhood.During our dinner in September one resident stood up and shared his dream for a Halloween event in our neighborhood. He called it “Trunk or Treat” and described how in a previous neighborhood he had lived in, residents would deck out their cars with Halloween decorations and load up their trunks with candy. Last year he took some kids from the neighborhood to trick or treat in the Garden District, a far wealthier community only a few blocks away, and lamented the fact that little trick or treating took place in Central City. However, with only a month to go, a full time job, and little funding for this project, he felt that planning a Trunk or Treat wasn’t a feasible idea, for this year at least. I sat there and nodded my head, I figured that we’d do something next year, when there was a neighborhood association or something to sponsor it, I figured we’d stick to small dinners for now.
Rachel Glicksman (far right) helped to plan a "Trunk-or-Treat" event in Central City
But the other residents didn’t agree with our assessments of the situation, and were enthusiastic about providing a safe environment for trick or treating. Two residents volunteered to participate, and when the local church got wind of this, they donated their space, recruited volunteers and solicited donations from their members. Instead of a “Trick or Trunk,” we put together “The Great Pumpkin Parade” – a Halloween carnival set up at stations throughout the neighborhood, culminating at the church grounds with food, prizes and even more games. I still wasn’t sure it could succeed, even up until last Saturday morning, I was unsure if our work would pay off. Well, nearly a month after that idea was initiated, I’m glad to say that we did it. This Halloween, volunteers donned bright orange shirts, residents opened their homes to trick or treaters, and children in costumes from Tinker Bell to the Batman to bloody vampires filled the streets.
We’d walked maybe a couple of miles under the ever-thickening gray clouds, bouncing slightly to the barely audible rhythm of the brass band that drifted from somewhere out in front of us and trying desperately to stay ahead of the mounted police or, better said, their horses—the horses that, unsympathetic to the slow pace of the throngs, plodded tirelessly on our heels and breathed puffs of hot air down our necks.
“Ice cold water, ice cold beer, only a dollar!” sang out vendors as they passed out drinks from their truckbeds to outstretched hands, and others wheeled their wares right along with the rest of the walkers. Never too old for a good time, even some of the ancient twisted oaks were decked out with shiny loops of beads. Onlookers leaned against the bright pink walls of iconic Esplanade Pharmacy or lounged on cement porches watching the goings-on in the busy street.
I had followed parades before, treading tirelessly behind elementary school bands as they marched down a rural road for the better part of a day, little girls twirling their batons and bigger boys striking their drums to celebrate Independence Day. I usually found it an exhausting responsibility. Here, though, I was determined to enjoy myself. I stepped in time to the music, bopping slightly like every good former-member of an a capella group. I looked eagerly around, soaking in the novelty of this hodge-podge of people who seemed to be from all walks of life: the members of the Black Men of Labor Social Aid and Pleasure Club, hosts of the second line and men of the hour, in their pink or green flowered suits with their colorful feather-tufted umbrellas; the girls in skinny jeans and bedazzled shirts with neon sneakers; the free-spirits in earth tones, sandals, and jauntily cocked straw hats; the men in ragged T-shirts and worn jeans. Some older men free-styled through the line, stepping low and leaning out, smiling quietly to themselves. They seemed to be somewhere far, far away. I longed to join them, but something, a wall of self-consciousness, of not quite being “in,” held me back.
On our final retreat, the 2008-2009 AVODAH New Orleans Corps Members spent the weekend in Poplarville, MS. During the retreat, Corps Member David Eber dressed up as Moses and asked us to write out own 10 commandments for sustaining a life-long commitment to social justice. We created a video called The 10 Commandments of AVODAH New Orleans.
It has been pointed out that at the end of the video it looks like a memorial tribute to Yaeli. In case you were wondering, the amazing Yaeli Bronstein is still alive and well! She wasn’t able to attend the retreat, so that’s why the video is dedicated to her.
John “JT” Thompson, founder and director of Resurrection After Exoneration (RAE), was interviewed recently by CNN’s Becky Anderson for the network’s Connector of the Day segment. JT spent 18 years in prison, 14 of those on death row at Angola Prison, for a murder he didn’t commit. Watch the clip below to learn more about JT’s experiences and to learn more about the work being done by RAE.
AVODAH Corps member and blog contributor Tina Wexler works with JT as an Exoneree Advocate, helping exonerees adjust to life outside prison. Also on staff at RAE is Ora Nitkin-Kaner, an AVODAH alum (08-09) hired on full time as the Program Manager this summer.
One week after moving to New Orleans and beginning Avodah, I got a call from my family letting me know that my grandfather passed away. That day, some of my housemates put together a lunch bag full of food for me to take on my flight back to Michigan with me. They signed the bag, “Love, Your Avodah family.” In the face of death, I began to think not only of death, but life, family, and Judaism as well.
My Papa was never one for organized religion. Regardless, he was always proud of being a Jew. He grew up in a household where Yiddish was spoken and socialist ideals of equality were as much a part of life as Judaism. He used to joke that the shorter the shiva, the better. Unfortunately for him, shiva is not for the dead, it is for those left behind. When my housemates put together a bag of food for me, it reminded me of the tradition while sitting shiva of bringing food to those in mourning. It is a tradition to help those in need.
The first time I got very homesick for my New York home was when I realized October had come to New Orleans without the pomp of changing leaves, chilly, dramatic fall breezes, and the corresponding change in the mood and fashion of those around me. Fall always signals a shift in energy in me and those around me, signals newness along with new school years and the Jewish fall holidays. After 22 years in New York, of course I’ve come to associate fall newness and energy with a shift in my natural surroundings.
This year, though, I’ve shifted my own natural surroundings by picking up and moving to an environment that is hot, sticky, and almost constantly wet. Friends from New York have supported me, but always commented on the difficulties I would face in such an environment: always warm and humid, with loose definitions of seasons; so susceptible to flooding and a larger-than-life insect population. I was worried, knowing how easily my energy, mood, and personality are shaped by my environment… It’s sad, but true.
As an AVODAHnik during the 2008-09 program year, David Eber worked as the Sustainability Outreach Coordinator at the Lower 9th Ward Center for Sustainable Engagement and Development. He has been able to continue his work at the CSED beyond the AVODAH program year thanks to successfully raising money through two grants he himself wrote.
David’s focus has been the St. Claude Initiative, designed to revitalize St. Claude Avenue, the main thoroughfare in the Lower 9th Ward. He has been working with community members and local artists to paint murals that reflect the culture and character of the neighborhood on 17 empty buildings in order to beautify the area and bring back local business.
David is one of six AVODAH New Orleans alumni from last year who continue to live and work in New Orleans.
This blog gives our Corps members space to write about their experiences in the year-long service program as they question, explore, and grow into lifelong agents for social change whose commitment to social justice is guided by their Jewish values.
Posts on this blog do not necessarily represent the views of AVODAH: The Jewish Service Corps.
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