Blog

Welcome tothe daily recaps from the Adult Civil Rights Trip with Tzedek America. Over the course of this transformative journey, we traveled through the American South to explore the history, legacy, and ongoing impact of the Civil Rights Movement. Each day, I shared reflections, learnings, and powerful moments from our experiences—bearing witness to the stories that shape our collective responsibility to pursue justice today. If you missed an email, we have collected the recaps below. 

Wednesday, April 23, 2025

Shalom from Memphis, Tennessee, Friends!
I’m so delighted to have the opportunity to share a bit about what our group is learning and experiencing on our Civil Rights Trip these next few days! We have an incredible group of folks traveling together from Temple Israel, joining together with a group from Congregation Shalom from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. As many of you know, I took our Temple teens on this trip last year, and we had all had profoundly moving experiences as we learned about the history of our country. So I was thrilled when our adult learners were interested in taking this trip. We once again partnered with our friends from Milwaukee, and with our tour company, Tzedek America, based in Los Angeles. 

Today, we started with some tone setting and foundational learning here in Memphis, Tennessee. Memphis played a pivotal role in the Civil Rights Movement, is the home to the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel, the location where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was killed. The Lorraine Motel was made famous not only because of its inclusion in the Green Book (a travel guide published during the Jim Crow era to let African Americans know where they could safely stay), but because it was frequented by celebrities and musicians, including Nat King Cole, Ray Charles, Aretha Franklin, and many others. It is now home to the National Civil Rights Museum. 

After touring the museum, we debriefed with one of our trip leaders, Pastor Rondell Eskridge, who is a Youth Pastor at a church in Los Angeles. He first connected with the founder of Tzedek America 5 years ago, when Avram brought a group of Jewish teens to connect with the youth of Rondell’s church. Their goal was for black teens and Jewish teens to learn from each other about their own lived experiences. Since then, Rondell has partnered with Tzedek America to join trips (including our trip last year!) to provide a personal perspective on what we are learning.  Pastor Rondell is a wealth of knowledge about the history of racism and segregation in our country, and we are so incredibly fortunate to learn from him. 

Today, as we debriefed, we spoke about Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and he reminded us that while America largely celebrates MLK as the hero of the Civil Rights Movement and remembers him with honor, that was not always the case. While he was living, Dr. King was a thorn in the side of the majority of elected officials. Yes, his philosophy was one of nonviolence, but as Pastor Rondell taught today, “making peace is a violent act. To make peace, you come against someone else’s status quo.” To change the status quo, you have to become an agitator, you have to demand for things to change, and that demand for change is, in and of itself, violent. 

As I ruminated on Pastor Rondell’s statement, I found myself thinking about our liturgy; Oseh Shalom, specifically. Oseh comes from the word “la’asot” — “to make.” We pray to God as “the one who makes peace.” Peace, even in our liturgy, is not passive, it can’t simply just manifest itself without an exterior force moving us towards it. And whether it is God or human beings, peace requires action — we are required to do something to make peace. Dr. King knew that. It is up to us — all of us — to be the ones who make peace. 

We ended our day with live music at Memphis’s only lasting juke joint — Wild Bill’s. We had a blast singing and dancing with the band. Tomorrow, we’re touring Memphis’ historical sites and then will end our day in Birmingham! More updates to come tomorrow!

L’Shalom,
Rabbi Berezin

Thursday, April 24, 2025

Shalom Friends,
Today we spent today immersing ourselves in the spaces of key moments in thy history of the Civil Rights Movement in Memphis.

We began our day with some important learning with one of our trip educators, Pastor Rondell. What started out as a debrief on the history of juke joints soon turned into an important conversation about the place that music occupies in African American culture. In a world that consistently and systemically degrades black and brown people, music has been a much needed outlet for communal and individual expression; a place where you can "lay it [your troubles] all out on the track." Or, as I often like to say from the bima on Shabbat, an opportunity to leave your schmutz at the door.  

We continued our morning on a guided tour of the key historical sites and landmarks that hold importance to the Movement. Elaine Turner was our tour guide. Among the many sites we visited,  we stood with Elaine in front of her family's historical marker -- The Lee Sisters earned their family the title of the "Most Arrested Family Civil Rights Family!" It was an incredible honor to hear Elaine recount her experiences firsthand, sharing how she and her sisters would move from restaurant to restaurant, closing one restaurant after another as the owners refused them service.  

We began our tour at the I AM A MAN PLAZA,  a memorial dedicated to the Memphis Sanitation Workers Strike. Protestors would gather each day for weeks on end in that church courtyard,  holding signs that read "I AM A MAN" to remind people of their humanity and desire to be treated with the dignity owed to each human being. After weeks of protesting to no avail, they called in Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. The night before his assassination,  Dr. King gave his infamous "I Have Been to the Mountaintop" speech in Memphis; these words are engraved on the letters of the I AM A MAN monument.  

As we drove through Memphis, we saw Slave Haven, which was a famous stop on the Underground Railroad. We saw labor union headquarters,  churches that were the meeting grounds and birthplaces of ideas that propelled the Movement forward, schools and restaurants that denied entry to black people. We made a stop at the Dr. Martin Luther King Reflection Park, a space dedicated to reflecting on the words that Dr. King shared in various speeches he delivered through his life. There, we also saw a beautiful sculpture, named “The Mountaintop,” to honor Dr. King’s Mountaintop speech. The artist purposefully made this sculpture for people to attempt to climb. Few have ever made it to the top; a reminder that we have still not seen the other side of the mountain yet and we must work towards it every day.  

As I reflected on our day, once again some of the words that Pastor Rondell shared this morning have stuck with me through most of the day. “Hate has no highlights, only victims,” he taught. There are no winners in the game of hate, only losers. As we move through this Civil Rights Journey, I know that these words and that lesson will stay with me, and I hope you might think about them too.

I wonder, what would our world look like if we came from an abundance mindset rather than a fear based mindset? To really believe that for others to have more, it does not mean that I have less. To really understand that for more people to have greater freedom and greater access, it does not mean that I inherently have any less freedom or less access. These fears are what sow the seeds of hate and intolerance. There is no room for them in a just and equitable and peaceful society. And hate has no highlights, only victims.  

Tomorrow, we’ll be exploring Birmingham and spending Shabbat together at Temple Emanu-El. I look forward to updating you more soon!
 
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Berezin 

Friday, April 25 and Saturday, April 26

Shalom from Montgomery,

These past two days have been a whirlwind of powerful, emotional, and challenging learning experiences. On Friday morning, we began our morning hearing from the incredible Pastor Gwen Webb, a participant in the Children’s March in 1963. Pastor Webb was an inspiration to us all, sharing openly about what motivated her to join the Movement. She spoke passionately about why she felt called, even as a child, to join the fight for a better world. Thousands of children participated in the Children’s March, some as young as 4 years old, and were arrested in droves. A thread that has been woven through our learning here has been the centrality of music, and in particular spiritual music, and Friday morning was no exception. Pastor Webb guided us in linking arms as she and her friends were taught to do, and shared her version of “Turn Me Around” changing the lyrics from “we shall overcome someday,” to “we shall overcome TODAY.” 

We headed over to Kelly Ingram Park, the location where the Children’s March was planned, and became the site of police brutality and violence we still see imagery from today. Children were sprayed down with water hoses with 7,000 lbs of pressure, requiring 5 firefighters to direct; they were attacked by police dogs. Now, the park is home to sculptures memorializing these vicious attacks.

Pastor Rondell led us on a guided tour of the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute, and then we walked to the 16th Street Baptist Church and paid our respects to the four little girls who were murdered by a bombing in their place of worship.

Before Shabbat, we visited the conservative synagogue, Beth El’s Civil Rights Experience, an interactive learning exhibit to teach about the Jewish community of Birmingham and their role in the Civil Rights Movement. Finally, we welcomed Shabbat at the beautiful Reform synagogue, Temple Emanu-El. I was delighted to have the opportunity to share Shabbat with my classmate and dear friend, Rabbi Adam Wright, who welcomed us into his community with a sense of true southern hospitality.

On Saturday morning, we headed to Montgomery. We spent the morning touring two out of the three Equal Justice Initiative sites (the third we will see tomorrow). The Equal Justice Initiative was founded by Bryan Stevenson, and works to shine a light on injustice and poverty in the African American community. We boarded a boat on the Alabama River, and listened to the narration explaining that we were on the same route that thousands of black and brown people found themselves on as they were sold into slavery. We soon entered the Freedom Monument Sculpture Park, a massive park filled with one of a kind pieces of art telling the story of slavery in America. 

After, we toured the Legacy Museum; one of the most stunning and powerful examples of storytelling I have ever seen. As you walk into the museum, you are greeted by a horrific yet stunning sculpture — the watery graves of those who died en route to America. Here, you can stand in front of jail cells and watch holographic images as they tell you firsthand accounts of experiences in slavery. As you move through the museum, from slavery to the history of lynching to the Jim Crow era, you see the evolution of racism to modern day, ending in a powerful exhibit on Mass Incarceration and showcasing the horrors that the African American community face each and every day. 

After lunch, we drove to Selma. We were privileged to go on a guided tour with Terry Chestnut, whose father was the attorney for the Civil Rights Movement. He showed us key areas of town, pointing out where important meetings and gatherings took place. We were treated to an incredible surprise — a visit to the home of Rev. Tucker, who was Dr. Martin Luther King’s bodyguard. In the famous picture of Dr. King kneeling on the bridge, deep in thought, Rev. Tucker is there in the background. And to our horror, one of the cemeteries we visited, Live Oak Cemetery, has a section that is funded and maintained by the Daughters of the Confederacy. There, Confederate Flags fly in freedom. There, a monument to Nathaniel Bedford Forrest, founder of the Ku Klux Klan, stands in proud memory. There, a statute as tall as a house stands in honor of Robert E. Lee. As Pastor Rondell pointed out earlier on this trip — only in America do you see monuments and flags to the losing side freely and proudly displayed. Only in America do you see Confederate Flags, symbols of injustice and oppression, symbols of brutality and lynchings, permitted to fly. 

We had the honor of hearing from Mr. Carrington, a foot soldier in the Movement in Selma, who marched on Bloody Sunday and was brutally beaten by a police officer on the back of a horse. And yet, he didn’t let his injuries stop him from participating in the march from Selma to Montgomery. When we asked Mr. Carrington what he learned from the Movement, he said simply: “I learned how to be human.” We ended our day walking across the Edmund Pettus Bridge. As the day turned to evening, we stood together and made havdalah. 

After two heavy, emotional days, it is hard to put into words what I feel at this moment. My heart is heavy. I am desperately sad and ashamed of what human beings have endured simply because they have black and brown skin. And yet my heart is also full — full of awe at the bravery and courage of the men and women and children who decided to fight for the world as it ought to be instead of settling for the world as it is; full of gratitude for the people willing to teach and share their stories; full of hope because I have heard from people who have been part of the change they wished to see and if they can do it, so can we. So right now, I’m holding both of these emotions — the heaviness and the fullness of heart. 

Yesterday, Charles Wood, our tour guide at Kelly Ingram Park, taught us that “a half truth is a whole lie.” I’ve been sitting with those words for the past two days and am struck by how resonant they are in the world we live in today. Charles shared this in reference to the way history continues to be redacted to make it more palatable. When we looked at the sculptures of the water cannons shooting at the children, for example, they are standing alone. Unless you knew otherwise, you would assume that the water canons were remotely controlled because there are no people standing there aiming them. And yet, we know that it took multiple firefighters to aim them. But the city of Birmingham did not want people to not trust their first responders; to be hesitant to call firefighters if the need arose. And therefore, there are no police; no firefighters aiming those water canons. A half truth is a whole lie. It’s as true now as it was then. 

Tomorrow, we head to Georgia. More to come.

L’Shalom,
Rabbi Berezin

Sunday, April 27, 2025

Shalom Friends,
I'm writing this final update to you from the plane as we fly back home to Omaha. It's hard to believe that this long awaited Civil Rights Journey has come to an end. These past few days have been a whirlwind of experiences that have challenged us to grapple with what it means to face the darkest parts of our country's history.

Today,  we confronted the horrors of lynching. We began our day at the Equal Justice Initiative's National Memorial to Peace and Justice, which memorialized the 4,400 people from over 800 counties that were brutally murdered between the years of 1877 and 1950. It's hard to fathom the magnitude of 4,400 names. The reality of seeing those names hanging from steel monuments is staggering; it takes your breath away. 

Together, several of us located the Douglas County monument with the names of the two lynching victims from our hometown: Will Brown and George Smith. One wall at the memorial denoted the absurdities that paraded as "reasons" for lynchings to occur -- everything from "did not let a white man beat him in a fight" to "stood behind a white woman in line."  One placard in particular stopped me in my tracks -- Douglas County's Will Brown was lynched in "1919 by a riotous mob of up to 15,000 people." 15,000 people and not one of them stopped a brutal murder.  

We then made our way to LaGrange, Georgia where we learned the story of the lynching of Austin Calloway in 1940. When this lynching was brought to light, the police department came forward to acknowledge the pain and terror they caused to Austin Calloway and his family. A service honoring this act of teshuvah (repentance) was held as a marker was erected at the church. We were privileged to hear directly from the two folks who did the primary investigating of the lynching, bringing it to the attention of the community and the police department, demanding that this atrocity no longer be swept under the rug. And we heard from a retired police officer who took part in this act of teshuvah and listened to why this act mattered to him.  

We ended our journey with a visit to the graves of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Coretta Scott King to pay our respects. 

As I sit here on the plane, thinking about our once in a lifetime experiences, I'm grateful most of all to our speakers. It is not easy to share a piece of yourself with strangers.  And yet, our speakers and teachers were gracious and open, eager for our questions, and willing to speak about painful and traumatic experiences so that we can learn from our history and teach our children to do better.  

One of the most impactful parts of this experience was the genuine invitation to ask questions -- to ask anything we wanted to know, or had ever wondered about, in a safe space free of judgement. To be able to ask a question that, in other spaces, and with other people, would ordinarily be inappropriate or off-limits. In these spaces of deep, important, sacred learning, no question was considered inappropriate or off-limits, because it was torah lishma, learning done for the sake of heaven.  

This learning,  this experience,  these people,  this work is holy. It is sacred work for for the sake of heaven. As Jews, we bear the responsibility to work towards healing,  towards teshuvah,  towards tikkun olam, the repair of our broken world. We bear the responsibility to teach these lessons l'dor vador, from generation to generation.

We bear the responsibility of working towards a world of shalom,  a world of peace, for all people.

"Olam chesed yibaneh," we pray. Together,  we will build this world from love.  

This Shabbat, May 2, we invite you to join us for services where we will hear reflections from a few of our travelers about their experiences. We are eager to tell you about our journey, to share its importance,  to find ways for our community to continue this sacred work. So please, if you see one of us, ask us anything. Because no questions are off-limits. 

L'Shalom,
Rabbi Berezin