A Culture of Caring

So said Hillel: “That which is hateful to you, do not do to another. That is the entire Torah, the rest is commentary.” What are we to make of the fact that Hillel believed that the entire Torah could be distilled into this one directive? It seems that Hillel is telling us that at its core, the moral foundation and essence of our faith and practice lies in our treatment of other people.

As members of the YU Counseling Center, we are so often immensely proud of the way our students live by Torah values of kindness and embracing others. On the occasion that we observe the opposite, it is important for us to speak up. In a recent article, “The Culture of Permissibility,” Schneur Friedman brought to light a painful reality where language is weaponized to “other” some of our students; to divide rather than unite. And while it saddened us to read the article, we are grateful that he wrote it.

Time and again, our tradition emphasizes the importance of caring for the other, or the stranger, and treating them as we would want to be treated. The Torah commands: “The strangers who

reside with you shall be to you as your own; you shall love each one as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt” (Vayikra 19:34). Rabbi Jonathan Sacks explains that the history

of the Jewish nation is deeply rooted in the experience of being strangers, or being “othered.”

Avraham was commanded to leave his homeland. Moshe endured personal exile before leading Bnei Yisrael. Bnei Yisrael endured years of oppression before finally finding their home in Eretz Yisrael.

According to Rabbi Sacks, God made us into the world’s archetypal strangers so that we would be uniquely equipped to show up for those who feel like outsiders in our own midst. This feels especially salient today, as many Jews find themselves excluded from spaces where we had once believed we were welcome. In an instant, we have become strangers again.

Psychologists have long emphasized the centrality of a sense of belonging for human well-being. Studies show that social connection is correlated with increased longevity, happiness and resilience. Feeling connected to a community provides comfort and strength, and makes us feel part of something larger than ourselves. Conversely, when one is cast out or “othered,” the isolation that results can be devastating, inflicting psychological harm akin to physical pain.

“Othering,” or treating someone as though they are not part of a larger group, even in subtle ways, stems from fear; fear of those who seem different from us, or fear that our own beliefs are being threatened. But excluding someone with our behavior or speech is not the solution. Being derisive towards others is antithetical to our personal and communal value system.

And yet, all of us have at some point experienced that feeling of being different. Whether because of our religious observance, appearance, sexual identity or beliefs, we have all at times been made painfully aware of that which separates us and makes us different from others around us. As Rabbi Sacks notes, it is in our communal DNA to be tragically familiar with the experience of being a stranger.

So then, what are we to do? How do we apply our own experiences of exclusion to ensure that others feel included? What is our responsibility when it comes to ensuring a culture of inclusion and respect in our own YU community?

A fundamental way we create a sense of belonging in our communities is through the language we use. Words do more than convey information — language is a powerful tool that signals who is “in” and who is “out.” Everyone yearns to be seen and accepted, but for those who already

feel marginalized or unsure of their place, inclusive language can be a lifeline.

This means that those who feel on the outskirts — for whatever reason — are the very people we are most called to protect. Whether they are members of our student body, the broader Jewish community or the even larger human family, we are responsible for standing up when their dignity is threatened.

This is not always easy. Are we really expected to risk our own standing to advocate for the inclusion of someone we barely know — even someone whose way of life is so different from ours?

The answer is yes. Loving those who are just like us is simple; there is no courage in that. True strength lies in standing up for the dignity of those with whom we may disagree. Inclusion does not demand conformity, nor does it require us to agree with another’s beliefs. To be inclusive

simply means that regardless of our differences, every person deserves a place at the table. Protecting those who are different from us is not just an act of kindness — it is a necessity. A culture that tolerates name-calling ultimately fosters marginalization and exclusion. The integrity of our community demands that we stand up for all its members.

From a young age, children are taught that in times of crisis, they should “look for the helpers.” To seek out people who provide comfort and security when we feel threatened or afraid. Today, as adults, it is our turn to take on that role. At a recent LGBTQ sensitivity training held by the Counseling Center, Dr. Jeremy Novich reminded attendees of the impact of individual overtures on a community’s overall environment. Each one of us can reach out to someone who feels like the “other,” showing him or her that though some may treat them as strangers, we see them as our own. Demonstrating through our words and actions that despite our differences, everyone in our community is worthy of respect, dignity and acceptance.

Above all else, let us remember that the essence of our faith is the way we treat others. The rest is commentary.

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Photo Caption: YU’s Counseling Center

Photo Credit: Sruli Friedman / The Commentator