communities and providing “a roadmap for courageous conversations.” Detroit’ s public premiere, planned for the Charles Wright H. Museum of African American History in April, was canceled due to the pandemic. But the documen- tary made its way into local educational platforms like the University of Michigan’ s Ross Business School — where the Diversity, Equity and Inclusion Task Force has worked with students to host webinars that apply the film’ s model of diverse communi- ty-building to the business world. BRIDGE BUILDING Blake Weissman, 20, is a student at the Ross Business School. Since spring, he’ s served as national youth president of Spill the Honey Foundation, the nonprofit behind the film. He works to bring Shared Legacies to college audiences through virtual screenings, discussions and webinars that engage students on issues like allyship, police reform and education. He also works with 17 youth ambassadors on campuses in Chicago, Philadelphia, Atlanta and Ann Arbor. In our polarized society, having a bridge-building ambassador on every college campus would be an amazing way to create “sustainable, lasting change from the inside out,” Weissman said. While he’ s passionately picking up the baton to run alongside a new generation of changemakers, Weissman knew “absolutely nothing of Black-Jewish relations,” before attending the Atlanta premiere with his family. When the credits rolled, and the original theme song played, he found himself on his feet applauding, sur- rounded by nearly 2,500 guests. “It was very, very powerful, and it planted a seed in me,” he said of the film. “This could have been a lost part of American histo- ry,” said Rogers. Since 2015, she’ s traveled from Selma, Ala., to Israel, collecting nearly 90 hours of interviews from those who haven’ t for- gotten the union. “It was in their memories, but no one ever asked them what they witnessed,” she said. Dating back to 1909, with the founding of the NAACP, the film explores the modern alliance between two peoples who have endured segrega- tion, racism and violence. It discusses the pinnacle of that alliance: the friendship between Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Rabbi Abraham Heschel during the Civil Rights Movement. Mutual respect and under- standing of these significant leaders is credited as the catalyst for Jews joining the Civil Rights Movement, just as King and Heschel’ s deaths in 1968 and 1972, respective- ly, point to the unraveling of the Black-Jewish bond. REVIVE THE COALITION Rev. Kenneth J. Flowers of Detroit’ s Greater New Mount Moriah Missionary Baptist Church says, “If people see the shared legacies and the work we did together, they’ ll understand now is the time to revive and renew that coalition of conscience between people of goodwill, people of morality, people who have great spirits about them, to step up and stand up for freedom, justice and equality.” Flowers, one of sever- al Metro Detroiters in the film, says Coretta Scott King shared with him the relationship between her husband and Rabbi Heschel when Flowers was a student at Morehouse College in 1979. These conversations helped him understand the importance of being involved with the Jewish community, he says, and keeping them involved in “Black-Jewish dialogue” and movements for justice and equality. Today, he serves as a leading mem- ber of the Coalition for Black and Jewish Unity and has been in conversations with Morehouse since the film debuted to bring education of the alliance to the school where Dr. King graduated. “We have far more in com- mon than what separates us,” Flowers says, of Black and Jewish communities today, “though there are things we need to do. If we look at what worked then, it can work now.” In addition to on-screen appearances, several Metro Detroiters played significant roles in creating the film, Rogers says, including fellow writer/narrator Shoshana Janer, film editor Stuart Shevin and friend Shari Ferber Kaufman who funded the initial filming in Selma. Shari’ s father, Fred Ferber, a Holocaust survivor liv- ing in Birmingham, is also featured in the film. Now 90, Fred says the first Black people he saw in his life were the American soldiers who rescued him from a Nazi concentration camp after the war. The film notes that sol- diers like these risked their lives to bring Ferber and oth- ers their freedom, even while lacking their own freedoms at home. Rogers credits the major fundraising of Shared Legacies to Atlanta, but Detroit, she says, is where the idea started. Years ago, she saw Dr. Clarence Jones, a lawyer and speechwriter for Dr. King and a future friend and ambassador of the film, speaking to a group of high school students at the Wright Museum in Detroit. Jones remembers today, “I told them that much of the success the Civil Rights Movement was able to achieve was because of the substantial support we received from the Jewish community. I wasn’ t just talking about financial sup- port and contributions, but about people who actually joined and worked with us. “To me, that’ s one of the untold stories. But, I’ m a wit- ness to it.” Blake Weissman “IF PEOPLE SEE THE SHARED LEGACIES AND THE WORK WE DID TOGETHER, THEY’LL UNDERSTAND NOW IS THE TIME TO REVIVE AND RENEW THAT COALITION OF CONSCIENCE.” — REV. KENNETH J. FLOWERS NOVEMBER 19 • 2020 | 43