Bread and Roses

Rabbi Adam Greenwald

Director

Miller Introduction to Judaism Program

American Jewish University

Rabbi Adam Greenwald is the Director of the Miller Introduction to Judaism Program at American Jewish University, the largest learning program for those exploring conversion to Judaism in North America. He also serves as Lecturer in Rabbinics at the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies. In 2016, Rabbi Greenwald received the Covenant Foundation's Pomegranate Prize in Jewish Education.

Rabbi Greenwald is the editor of On One Foot, an introduction to Judaism textbook and curriculum, in wide use across the US and Canada. He is a Fellow with the National Center for Learning and Leadership (CLAL)'s "Rabbis Without Borders" initiative and speaks and teaches nationwide on issues of conversion, inclusion, and engagement of Jewish millennials.

Prior to coming to the Intro Program, he served as Revson Rabbinic Fellow at IKAR, one of America's most innovative spiritual communities. He received his BA in History from UCLA and his MA and ordination from the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies in 2011.

posted on September 1, 2022

As we go marching, marching, in the beauty of the day,

A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray,

Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,

For the people hear us singing:

Bread and Roses!

- James Oppenheim

On a freezing January day in Lawrence, Massachusetts, in 1912, a group of young women marched at the head of a large crowd of striking workers. They worked as operators of the huge, mechanical looms in the massive textile mills that covered the newly industrialized Northeast. Loom operators worked long hours, were paid a pittance, and, worst of all, labored under terribly unsafe conditions. The tiny fibers that filled the air left them with never-ending coughs, and many young women died from chronic lung conditions usually found in people three times their age. The young women's banner read: "Bread, yes, but roses too."

The Lawrence mill workers' strike became known in the annals of American labor history as the "Bread and Roses" strike. The poet, James Oppenheimer, wrote a famous protest song commemorating that action, declaring: "Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes; hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread -- but give us roses." It has been sung by everyone from Pete Seeger to Joan Baez to Ani DiFranco. The poem's words declare the profound truth first articulated in the Book of Deuteronomy: "Human beings do not live by bread alone" (Deuteronomy 8:3). It is not enough to ensure that people have the bare minimum they need to survive, every human being also deserves those things that give life meaning, beauty, and joy.

In Tractate Ketubot, the Rabbis discuss another verse from the Torah, which instructs us to provide for those in need "sufficient for their needs, in whatever they lack" (Deuteronomy 15:8). They conclude from the repetition in the verse that while "sufficient for their needs," refers to the essentials of survival, the addition of "in whatever they lack" commands us to go further in restoring a person to full dignity. The Rabbis and later halakhic writings debate precisely how far this responsibility extends. Still, all sources concur that we owe far more to those who are most vulnerable than simply that which keeps them alive to the next day. Bread, yes, but roses too!

Once sacred American holidays like Labor, Veterans, and Memorial Days, have largely been stripped of their original power. For many of us, they have become excuses for backyard get-togethers, long-weekend road trips, and – of course – sales. However, these holidays have messages of enduring significance: Labor Day honors the heroes of one of the most successful movements for human dignity in history. Laws forbidding child labor, ensuring safe working conditions, requiring a minimum wage and overtime pay, and a host of other protections are the direct result of the courage and sacrifice of so many, including the women of Lawrence. As Jews, we are committed to the idea that all people ought to be treated with the dignity that comes from being made in the Image of God. As such, we should take Labor Day's observance seriously as an expression of our Jewish values.

I end with a personal story: Several years ago, a creative friend threw a party on Labor Day and invited people to come dressed in costumes reflecting on the theme of "work." While most people took that as an excuse to dress like one of the Village People, one woman arrived dressed in white with a large bouquet of baguettes, interspersed with roses. I couldn't attend that party, but my friend called me the next day and said: "There was someone at my party whose costume made me think that the two of you need to meet!" Six years ago, she and I were married on Labor Day weekend.