As the economy started to fall apart last year, I noticed that it didn’t matter what kind of job people had or how much money they made; virtually everyone felt vulnerable. 

Except for the few on top who received a golden parachute, almost all of the rest of us worried about our jobs.  It didn’t matter if you worked as a janitor, a computer programmer, a carpenter, a manager, a consultant, a rabbi, a beautician, a teacher, a health care worker, an artist, a small business owner, or for a non-profit; many people lost their jobs, were cut back on their pay or hours, or had increased work loads.  People who had previously felt secure lost their homes or retirement money.  Even if we personally kept our jobs, we had family members and close friends who suffered.  For young adults just graduating, finding a job was not a given; looking for one was often a difficult and frightening experience.  For people who were in their 50s and older, looking for a job was humiliating.

This recession has caused people to take a second look at whether we are all so different from each other.  I think reconsidering that is a good thing. Workers of all economic levels and classes have many interests in common: we all want close relationships, respect from others, food in the fridge, and an interesting and meaningful life. We all want to breath clean air, and for our children to have good lives.  We all want jobs that are safe and pay decent wages; we want to work where we are treated well and where our opinions count. I believe life will go better for everyone, if we understand that we’re in this together.

In my work at the Jewish Labor Committee, I feel honored and lucky that I have contact with people who are fighting to stand up for what they deserve: a decent wage and decent working conditions.  I have been warmly welcomed by the Hyatt housekeepers, the Shaw’s warehouse workers, security workers, Commercial Cleaning janitors, carpenters, hospital workers, and other workers.  These workers understand that I represent the Jewish community.  They deeply appreciate our presence and want to know more about the Jewish faith and people. They want contact with us.  They want us among them and fighting with them.

On very rare occasions, I run into anti-Semitism in my job.  I make a point of having my feelers out to detect it - some could say I’m a bit paranoid. I can honestly say that the good will and thoughtfulness among workers is what stands out; the anti-Semitism is very small.

I have come to understand that although my life circumstances are different from theirs, I am really not so different from the workers the Jewish Labor Committee supports. I find this reassuring. My strong Jewish identity doesn’t change the fact that I am part of the workforce as they are. We are all workers, fighting for a just world.

In the last generation or two, many Jews became professionals. At that time, many of us moved to the suburbs and we were residentially segregated from people who earned less money. But we don’t have to let that separate us. When I look around, I notice that people in the Jewish community work hard at our jobs. In fact, I don’t know anyone in the Jewish community who doesn’t overwork. We take our work seriously. Nevertheless, many of us feel that we are not “workers” and we should not identify as “workers.” Some of us feel guilty for having greater access to resources than those who make less than we do. That further separates us.  But these feelings of guilt are really not useful.  We have to understand where they come from, and let go of them.

We are workers, or at least most of us are.  We should think about what that means. Who are our allies? What do we have in common? It seems like working conditions for everyone are being degraded. Together, we can stand up to fight wage cuts, lack of sick days, overwork, and lack of job security.

I’ve listened to many Jews tell their stories. I’ve noticed a theme.  Many of us long for contact with people who are working the kinds of jobs that our parents or grandparents worked.  We miss the lack of pretense; we are sick of the pressure to succeed.  Many Jews feel lonely and isolated out in the suburbs; some are moving back to the city.

In conclusion, we are all workers.  We don’t have to be separated by the jobs we have.  We don’t have to think of ourselves as different.

To all my fellow Jews, I invite you to take a step closer.  Come to a rally, and get involved.  Invite Hyatt 100 workers to come and speak at your synagogue.  Come work with the Jewish Labor Committee. Do this as a favor to yourself, not as charity.  Enjoy our heritage of working Jews.  Enjoy our future as well.

Marya Axner

Director

New England Jewish Labor Committee