One Success Story The Jewish Fund for Justice is a model for social action between blacks and Jews. ROBERT NEUWIRTH SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH NEWS obile, Ala. An af- l f uent Jewish congregation joins a con- frontational black community • organization to fight for affordable hous- ing. New Haven, Conn. Suburban Jews stand side-by-side with inner-city home- less people to fight for more permanent housing and better conditions in the city's shelters. Tulsa, Okla. A synagogue links with a black Baptist Church to "adopt" a trou- bled city housing project. /— Washington, D.C. Members of the city's Jewish community form YACHAD (in unity), a non-profit group dedicat- ed to mobilizing resources to finance and build low-income housing. While newspapers blare that blacks • and Jews are at each other's throats, while the mere presence of Jesse Jack- son on the political scene still irks many American Jews, while leaders from the Jewish community and other minority groups seem increasingly far apart, _ there's a new message emerging from the grass roots. It's a Jewish version of "Do the Right Thing." In Mobile, New Haven, Tulsa, Wash- ington, and dozens of other cities and towns around the country, temples and synagogues are forming alliances out- side of the Jewish community to fight for social justice. The weapons they are using in the battle are traditional Jew- ish values — tzedakah (the command- ment to spread righteous- ness) and tikkun olam (the mandate to repair the world). "There have been lots of opportuni- ties for presidents of Jewish federations to sit down with their counterparts at the NAACP or the Urban League," says Meir Lakein, an organizer with the Homeless Persons Organizing Project in New Haven. 'There have been almost no opportunities for the average Jewish person to speak with the average per- son who lives below the poverty level." In their first action, the homeless peo- ple in New Haven decided to use Sukkot, the Jewish harvest holiday, to illumi- nate their struggle. Together with sev- eral Jewish congregations, they built a sukkah on the green, at the center of the city. Mr. Lakein argues that this kind of joint action is key to re-establishing trust between relatively well-off Jews and poor people. "These personal ties are the only way to break the barriers down," he says. Breaking down the barriers is what the Jewish Fund for Justice (JFJ) is all about. Formed in 1984 by Si Kahn, a community organizer and director of the Grassroots Leadership Project in Char- lotte, N.C., JFJ, now headquartered in New York City, has been at the fore- front of efforts to build a Jewish con- stituency for social justice causes. With 7,000 donors, it's hardly a threat to the United Jewish Appeal, but last year JFJ passed an important milestone: in its short history it has now given out more than $1.4 million in grants. In 1992 alone, the Fund handed out more than $400,000 to non-profit groups. All told, it has helped 207 organizations in 42 states and the District of Columbia to combat poverty and inequality. JFJ backs a wide spectrum of groups: interfaith coalitions working on social issues; agencies providing training and support for immigrants; rural organiz- ing projects; toxic cleanup campaigns. JFJ funds groups whose work might not be well received by other, more cautious foundations. For instance, this year JFJ gave a grant to Inner City Press/Community on the Move, a controversial Bronx com- munity group that has angered New York City officials because it organizes people to take over vacant buildings in an effort to force the government to build housing for the poor. And a JFJ-sup- ported group in Mobile will soon target its city's negligent landlords, many of whom are Jewish. Though it does not require the groups it funds to have a Jewish component, JFJ sees itself as a catalyst, a clearing- house of information for Jewish groups that want to get involved in the kind of work it supports. The Fund sees itself as a catalyst, a clearing house of information for Jewish groups that want to get involved. - "I don't know if all of this is going to add up to a major refocusing of the Jew- ish community's efforts," says Marlene Provizer, the Fund's executive direc- tor, "but it is encouraging to see that some of the seeds that are being dropped out there are getting noticed." The JFJ has grown dramatically in its eight-year life, in part because of a perception that the mainstream Jewish organizations around the country, while supportive of dialogue groups, are not prepared to invest energy and dollars on social action. Jews are moving in- ward, notes Sherry Frank, who leads a black-Jewish dialogue group in At- lanta. The Fund believes joint advocacy is the logical next step after dialogue. It has come up with a plan to encourage Jewish groups to bond with low-income communities: it offers what it calls syn- agogue challenge grants — money for community empowerment efforts that involve active participation by mem- bers of a Jewish congregation. The idea is not just for the congrega- tion to give money, but for its members to get personally involved. "Our alliance was historically based on shared concerns and then imple- mentation," says Steven Dow, head of the social outreach committee of Con- gregation Bnai Emunah in Tulsa, and a spearhead of the synagogue's joint ef- fort with the Antioch Baptist Church to help the residents of the Comanche Park housing project. 'We were marching to- gether during the civil rights movement. We weren't sitting around having dia- logue groups about what the problem was." ❑ This article was made possible by a grant from The Fund for Journalism on Jewish Life, a project of the CRB Foun- dation of Montreal and the Jewish Tele- graphic Agency. Any views expressed are solely those of the author. >- CC 29