When Kamala Came for Shabbat Dinner

Guno צְבִי

We fight, We win
While we’ve hosted many Members of Congress, Kamala Harris was our first Senator. This was in 2017, and it was a private trip, we were told, so that Doug Emhoff, her Jewish husband, could finally see the Jewish state and also experience a special Shabbat. No one had to tell us the significance; there were already whispers of a Presidential campaign.

On the one hand, there is nothing remarkable about our Shabbat meals: candle lighting, angel cards, kiddush, blessing the kids, motzei. But Kamala wanted something special.

She lit the candles with my wife, Rabbi Susan Silverman. They waved in the flickering lights and whispered the blessing together. These were the candlesticks Susan’s grandmother brought out of the pogroms of Poland to America, and she shared their story, and how remarkable it is to light them in a sovereign Jewish state.

We sat around the table: Kamala sat across from Susan, Doug across from me, and everyone else was spread out. One thing you noticed about them right away: Doug loves Kamala — big time. It radiated, as they held hands or caught each other’s gaze.

Susan explained each of the rituals, and the two guests were most taken by her linking the creation story in Kiddush with the exodus from Egypt: “The purpose of creation, as I understand it, is redemption. For Jews and for all people.”

Kamala brought up solar energy and climate change. I was happy to tell her about our goal of going 100% solar daytime for Eilat and the Arava, which we achieved this year, and how we are bringing that model to African countries with U.S. government advocacy and financing.

https://forward.com/opinion/452489/when-kamala-came-for-shabbat-dinner/
 
Reflections on the face of America


Kamala Harris is the hope that America will love my mixed race family

My daughter and I are dancing. We are screaming. We are full of joy. I am throwing my daughter in the air as she laughs hysterically and chants “KAMALA!!! KAMALA!!!”

My husband comes in, bemused by the scene. What in this bleak summer of pandemic panic and canceled plans could spark such a burst of joy?

When I tell him Kamala Harris has been chosen as Joe Biden’s running mate, he lets out an uncharacteristically loud “YES!!!!”

We all laugh.

This is my house. There are three of us, plus Goldie the fish. We are American. We are Jews. Two of us are Ghanaian. One of us is the son of immigrant parents.

We are proud of who we are. We celebrate it. We wear Kippahs and Kente cloth. We dance to Highlife and Paul Zim and Matisyahu.

We eat Jollof rice and Matzah ball soup, fry latkes, and bofrot. We are a home that treasures the American melting pot and believes that diversity is what makes America strong.

We are a home a lot like Kamala Harris’s home. She is the daughter of an Indian immigrant and a Black Jamaican American. Her kitchen boasts black-eyed peas with collard greens and Masala Dosas. She is the Stepmom to two Jewish kids who call her Momalah.

Just like Kamala, my daughter will grow up with multiple rich cultural identities and be encouraged to embrace all of it. Just like Kamala, my daughter will grow up Black in America.
https://forward.com/opinion/452488/...-the-promise-of-an-america-that-will-love-my/
 
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