Justice, Justice You Shall Pursue: Making Inclusion an Everyday Practice

This is an adaptation from a D'var/speech given by Kelly Friedlander on 2/21/25 at JUDEA REFORM CONGREGATION in Durham, NC.

Happy Jewish Disability Awareness, Acceptance, and Inclusion Month!

Each February, Jewish communities worldwide come together for Jewish Disability Awareness, Acceptance, and Inclusion Month to say: we see you, we value you, and we are working to make our spaces truly accessible to all. This isn't just about awareness—it's about action and transformation.

"Justice, justice you shall pursue," teaches our Torah. And in pursuing justice for the disability community, we must first understand this fundamental truth: disability isn't a narrow path—it's a broad highway with countless lanes, each one valid, each one worthy of recognition, each one deserving of accommodation and respect.

Disability Touches All of Us

Disability is not something that happens to "other people"—it touches all of us. With over 42 million Americans and 1.3 billion people worldwide living with disabilities, this isn't a small group on the margins of society. This is the scale of human potential we overlook—that we lose out on—when we fail to build a truly inclusive world.

You might be born with a disability or acquire it later in life—perhaps through aging, as our bodies and minds naturally change over time. It might be visible to others or remain hidden from view—like the mental health conditions that profoundly shape one's daily experiences. It might be temporary, like recovering from an injury, or it might be a lifelong companion. But here's what's crucial to understand: these aren't separate categories of people. We are all part of the rich variety of human experiences.

The Real Barrier Is Exclusion

Disability isn't a flaw—exclusion is. The world disables more than any diagnosis ever could. The challenges faced by people with disabilities stem not from their conditions but from how we've constructed our world.

When a wheelchair user encounters stairs, the barrier isn't their wheelchair—it's the inaccessible design. When a deaf person struggles in the workplace, the obstacle isn't their hearing—it's the lack of accommodation. This unfair treatment based on abilities is called ableism—a form of privilege—and we can see it everywhere—in our buildings, our organizations, and even the words we use.

Beyond Government Solutions

And for those thinking, "Isn't this the government's job?"—the reality is that government efforts have consistently fallen short of meeting genuine needs.

Consider this stark reality: currently, in North Carolina, 17,771 individuals with disabilities wait an average of 13 years for essential services—basic supports like respite care, employment assistance, personal care assistance, and transportation.

When individuals finally receive their services, they often discover that what's available still doesn't adequately meet their needs for successful community living. North Carolina ranks 41st among states in supporting people with intellectual and developmental disabilities.

We cannot wait for perfect systems before taking action. As we've long been taught in our tradition: "You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it." When we see our institutions struggling to meet needs, that's not our signal to retreat—it's our call to step forward.

Individual Actions Matter

This is precisely where we, as individuals and as a community, have both the power and responsibility to intervene. When systems fall short, our personal actions become even more crucial. A government can mandate accessibility, but we create genuine welcome. A policy can require accommodation, but we build true belonging.

Think about it: Every time you advocate for captioning at an event, every time you choose an accessible venue for a celebration, every time you design a flyer with clear fonts and high contrast—you're filling gaps that larger systems have left open. Your individual choices ripple outward in ways that legislation alone never could.

And we cannot forget the importance of our individual actions and choices at this moment in our country. Our nation is experiencing a rollback of policies that promote diversity, equity, inclusion, and accessibility. Systems are being dismantled, people are being targeted.

At the 2025 inaugural prayer service, Bishop Budde asked President Donald Trump for mercy for marginalized communities. It was a brave request. But Jewish tradition calls us to go beyond mercy. Mercy hopes for kindness; justice insists on what is right. And we are a people who pursue justice.

We are not asking for mercy for people with disabilities. We are not asking. We are seeking justice. We are seeking ways to ensure justice happens.

Justice Requires Persistent Action

"Justice, justice you shall pursue"—justice is repeated for a reason—justice must be part of both life's defining moments and its quiet daily decisions. When the text commands us to "pursue" justice, it acknowledges that creating a just world requires ongoing, intentional effort. Like water carving through stone, our pursuit of justice must be both gentle and relentless, shaping the world through persistent action.

So here is my challenge to you: I challenge you to commit to making inclusion an everyday spiritual practice in your life. At a time when many voices are being silenced, inclusion can't be a quiet value. It must be a loud, unwavering action.

The pursuit of justice begins with our daily choices. Inclusion isn't just a policy or program—it lives in the small moments of our everyday interactions. Taking action to create an inclusive community for all is a significant way for us to radiate God's holiness.

Making Inclusion an Everyday Practice

We've created a short guide to making inclusion an everyday practice. This document suggests ways to actively be inclusive in digital spaces, your workplaces, and social circles. I hope it provides you with some practical tools to take these principles beyond today's gathering and into your daily lives. These small but intentional actions can create ripples of change in our community.

The guide isn't meant to be exhaustive but rather a starting point for each of us to consider how we might make our spaces more welcoming for everyone. Each seemingly small act of noticing, of speaking up, of adjusting—they're like stars that, together, light our way toward a more accessible world.

It does not go "Justice, Justice... I hope for it..." It says, "Justice, Justice, you shall pursue."

As Jews, we are commanded not just to wish for justice, but to pursue it actively. This means taking responsibility for making our spaces—physical and social—truly accessible to all. It means recognizing that inclusion isn't an act of kindness, but a fundamental expression of our values.

Let's move beyond good intentions to meaningful action. Let's commit today to being champions of inclusion in our daily lives. Let's make our community—and our world—one where everyone belongs.