Summer of Activism

By ALLISON LAUTERBACH

I did not want to be a tourist- anything but the woman wearing the plaid shorts and striped shirt, camera dangling precariously from her neck, with a bag that held everything with various 'Walking Tour' maps of DC dangling from her pockets. It's a tough gig to avoid the tourist clich' during a summer in D.C. But, I had a job to do, a class to take, and lectures to attend. I was a Reform Jew, an activist, an intern and a student. I was one of 19 other participants in the Religious Action Center's (RAC) Machon Kaplan Program.

I wanted to be like that 30-something man in a business suit reading the Washington Post, his suit impeccably put together. I saw him each day, riding the Metro on his way to some job that will help him either change or take over the world. I took that image and shaped it to fit my 5-foot-3 inch female frame. All of the participants of the Machon Kaplan Program, college students ranging from sophomores to recent graduates, were placed in a variety of internships, all with organizations that reflected the political views of the RAC itself. Five days a week, we'd go, we'd file, we'd do data entry, we'd do our projects, we'd change the world with tikkun olam in our individual ways. That was the premise, we had to do with it what we wanted, to shape our summer in our own ways.

I wanted to be like my advisor from the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice (RCRC), Amy, recently out of graduate school and working in a field she loved. She was pursuing her passion. Never having heard of RCRC when I had been assigned my internship, I read up on the organization. I learned that it is a pro-choice movement with a religious foundation that acts as a coalition across a variety of different religions. I became excited that my summer experiences would be in a pluralistic setting. Amy, as well as the other men and women in RCRC, dedicates her life to a cause with which I grew to identify with more and more. While I had entered my summer casually saying I was in support of a woman's right to chose, I became a dedicated, enthusiastic supporter throughout my internship after encountering all of the anti-abortion rhetoric and reading all of the religious support for reproductive rights.

I wanted to be that intern, who, in the matter of six weeks, became a whirlwind in the office and changed the world in a big way. I can't claim to have actually done that, though. However, while some of my friends were off filing and entering data into computers, I knew that the work I completed was part of an important effort. I was in charge of creating a response to the current anti-abortion movement that equates abortion with such horrors as the Holocaust, black lynching and other forms of mass killings. Upon first reading such hateful articles and claims, I broke down. I could not continue with my work because I was literally offended to my core- as a modern Jew, as the granddaughter of Holocaust escapees, as a young woman, I could not handle such disturbing accusations. With that new found emotional-drive and the support of the amazing people in my office, I had a new energy, a new set of reasons to continue with the project. Now, when colleges encounter this type of anti-abortion protests, the RCRC can send materials- letters to the editor, fact sheets, frequently asked questions and answers, essays- that I compiled. The entire time I was not only contributing to a political cause in which I believe, but I was also defending my heritage, bringing my Judaism to my internship.

I wanted to be one of those people devoted to text study, living the rich tradition of Judaism and carrying on the course of study like generations have before me. Three days a week, we would study with a professor, Max Ticktin of George Washington University, and delve into various Jewish stories and analyze their relevance to modern Judaism and tikkun olam. I wanted my back to ache, my eyes to strain, after a night of intense debate over our morning discussion. At night, we would listen to a variety of lecturers ranging from delegates of the NAACP to an Israeli Embassy spokesperson, from Baptist leaders to grassroots activists. Our brains were humming, trying to take in the wide array of information we received on a daily basis.

I think we all wanted to be like David Saperstein, the director of the RAC. Speaking with us throughout the summer, Mr. Saperstein, a lawyer, rabbi, professor and lobbyist, provided a wealth of insight and information. While our group would sometimes get a little bored after a few minutes with other speakers, Mr. Saperstein kept us on the edge of our seats for hours, wondering how soon we could apply to rabbinic and law schools, how we could emulate the passion with which he works and the commitment to Judaism and social action by which he lives.

By the end of the summer, I just wanted to sleep. Running around to museums, theatrical performances, Shabbat services, and receptions, we absorbed as much of the city as we could. The nights were a mixture of reading, writing and discussion and only a few hours of sleep. The impromptu song sessions with friends playing guitar became staples of the experience, reminding me of Jewish sleep away camp and solidifying a sense of the Reform Judaism culture we had created within the dorms. Shabbats were a sweet mixture of putting the stressful work week behind us, realizing the prospect of sleep, and sharing the beautiful hugs and Shabbat greetings amongst my colleagues. When I returned home, I was emotionally, mentally and intellectually exhausted, still trying to take it all in.

While I didn't take over the world like the man on the Metro might some day, I somehow managed to ease my way into the working culture of Washington D.C., making my contribution to the pro-choice movement and the social action community. While the work of David Saperstein and the RAC is high above my head on a pedestal, I am proud to have just been a part of it. The D.C. humidity, the Jewish texts, and the people are all part of my experience. I realized what I had become and what I probably was all along: a political-social activist, a college student and a proud member of the Reform Jewish Community. And once in a while, I was a tourist.