Rabbi Heller's Blog

Since 2009, February has been designated as Jewish Disability Awareness, Acceptance and Inclusion Month. The month takes on a particular flavor this year as the term inclusion has become controversial or even poisonous in some circles. There are clearly situations where terms like inclusion have been twisted to promote particular agendas (including some that are specifically harmful to Jews), but equally unhealthy is a backlash to seeks to destroy anything that might be remotely associated with that term.

A very useful text to drive our conversation about ability and inclusion is found in this week’s Torah Portion, Yitro.

After one of the most remarkable experiences in the Torah, the giving of the Ten Commandments, our portion concludes with a commandment that is relatively obscure but has profound implications for how we create a truly inclusive community. “Do not ascend my altar by steps, so that your nakedness not be exposed.” We take for granted that ramps are a sign of sensitivity to disabilities. US construction codes require elevators or ramps so that those with limited mobility can access every part of a facility.  

A common approach to disability awareness is “accommodation,” making sure that there is some alternate path for those with different abilities to participate but acknowledging that that may not be the same path that others take. There is a door to come in through, but it isn’t the front door. Inclusion is a much more powerful approach. It says that all should have the opportunity to participate to their fullest extent without being treated as inferior or second class. 

The Torah understands this difference. Not everyone needed a ramp to climb the altar - the priests had breeches that shielded their dignity, and stairs would have been fine. But because some needed that extra dignity, God commanded that the same path to ascent be provided to all, offering inclusion rather than accommodation.

Inclusion is ideally not intended to give precedence or privilege to one group over another. It is not about saying “you deserve have it easier or be held to a lower standard than everyone else.” Rather, it is about removing barriers and enabling everyone to participate to the fullest extent of their abilities. This is particularly essential for folks with different physical or intellectual abilities, but really applies to all of us.

Our congregation wrestles with these questions in key ways. For example, in a very literal way, one of these struggles  parallels the conversation in our portion about ramps. Almost a decade years ago, when we were renovating our facility, we made sure that we were handicap-accessible. Every part of the building, including the bimah, can be reached via a ramp. We were very accommodating, but not inclusive. Someone who can’t climb stairs can’t come in through the main entrance, but rather has to go around to the side. Recently we upgraded our sound system so that folks with hearing aids (and those watching at home and unable to attend in person) could hear as well as those sitting up front. As we think about future upgrades to our facility, I hope that we can move towards being truly inclusive, rather than merely accommodating.

More broadly, I am averse to tokenism, reserving specific leadership or participatory roles for people of one age range, gender, or type of ability. On the other hand, if there are factors that are preventing certain types of people from participating fully, then we are diminishing our community by excluding them. We owe it to ourselves to ask whether it is necessary to perpetuate patterns that hold people back, or if we can instead build an altar that all can climb.